what to do with a too big skirt

ok but consider: cheerleader Neil Josten

HEAR ME OUT I’M GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS I SWEAR

- so we all know neil’s mom said he couldn’t play exy

- you know what the next best thing to playing exy is

- obsessively watching exy and cheering for it

- his mom didn’t really mind (well, he did at first, but neil somehow convinced her it wasn’t terrible) as long as he didn’t get attached to a squad and shit

- boy picked up so much skill from local cheer gyms everywhere

- he trained sO HARD (like half because if he was better they put him closer to the game so he had a better view)

- his tumbling passes were legendary. with his speed he could do the craziest shit like so many back handsprings. a back tuck. crazy twists and everything.

- even though he’s a guy he’s still soooo short

- at one point his coach decided to make him a f l y e r - like this little 5"3 muscular ass boy getting tossed like 20 feet in the air by these peppy girls in short skirts - just imagine

- he kept going until sometime before his mom died, when he realized he might have put a bit too much effort into the sport. people don’t see boy flyers and pass it off, and one of his teams almost made it big. almost- neil’s mom made him mess up their last routine and they left shortly after crippling the squad’s chances at nationals

- neil never really cheered again after his mom died, but he sometimes watched the vixens’ routines, mentally noting their strengths and weaknesses and what they could do with them, but he never said anything because he only knew katelyn and… it’s katelyn

- no one knows about his cheer days. not even andrew. uNTIL

- one day neil is out running and hey look up ahead near the exy stadium it’s the vixens holding practice

- he’s totally just gonna go right by them because exy but then he hears some shouting

- as he gets closer he sees some guys trying to talk to the vixens. from the look of their body language and the girls’ tense stances, it’s not going well

- neil gets closer and hears some very rude and derogatory things being said

- he promptly tells them to fuck off, may have added a threat or two. the guys bail.

- the vixens tell him they had it covered but thanks anyway, and one is like “hey, you wanna have a real practice today?” like totally joking

- neil’s brain is like fuck it

-  “yeah sure can you guys fly me in a basket double twist”

- who are you and what have you done with our starting striker

- neil just basically joins their practice

- katelyn’s reaction was priceless

- not as priceless as andrew’s expression when he sees his boyfriend being thrown into the air by a bunch of cheerleaders on the way to practice

Drops of Jupiter [Jimmy Darling x Reader]

Warnings: SMUT, NOT PROOFREAD, loss of virginity, possible spoilers, some really weird angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing, possibly more

Word Count: 953

Request: “Could you do an angsty smut thing woth jimmy where its thier first time and she’s like ‘touch me’ and he is so overwhelmed and happy cause omg she loves him???? Idk man but anyways its fine if not and i rlly love ur writing and yeah :)” - Anon

A/N: ty ty ty my child. And I’m not good with angst tbh so ???

And apparently condoms weren’t a huge thing in the 50′s like what? As much as I write unprotected sex, the idea disgusts me tbh.

(I’ve had this in my drafts for forever, sorry!)

“Jimmy,” You whisper as your boyfriend messily tugs the buttons on the front of your blouse. “I can help you…” He pulls the navy blue sleeves down your shoulders, and off of your arms, letting it fall on the floor, much to your annoyance.

“I wanna do it.” You quietly agree, but moments later notice Jimmy grumble, fumbling with your bra. You reach around your back, un-clipping the black garment. He lets out a small sigh, admiring you.

It’s like slow-motion when Jimmy’s lips smash against yours in a quick, passionate kiss that would lead to him tossing you back on the bed, and him un-buckling his trousers with a sly smile, completely forgetting it’s your first time. It wasn’t until he noticed how fast your heart was beating that he remembered, and to which he attempted to stop his actions. After reassuring him that there was nothing to be afraid of, he began again, very slowly.

“My God Jimmy, I’m not made of glass!” You said, a little bit irritated. Alright, a lot a bit irritated. He knew that he could touch you, that you wanted to be touched by him, but he just couldn’t ever get it through his brain. The two of you had fooled around before, going so far as to you sucking him off in bed during the late hours of the night, thankful that he had his own caravan, but never actually done it. Every time you got close to it happening, he backed out because he was nervous. You weren’t letting that happen this time, though. You were going to show him that it was okay. Whether he believed you or not, well, that was up to him.

Pulling him down on the bed with you, you flip over so he’s under you. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. His size had never, ever failed to surprise you, and sometimes it felt like maybe he was too big. But through the times, he had managed to convince you that he wasn’t “too big” as you had originally thought. The thought still lurked sometimes, though.

“Darlin’, what are you doing?” You quickly shush him, trying to keep your thoughts (and confidence) in order. Sliding your panties off, you toss them to the side, along with your skirt, which Jimmy had previously un-zipped halfway. You hear Jimmy laugh nervously, mumbling something or another about you.

You line his cock up with your entrance, slowly sliding down. A small whimper escapes your parted lips, and Jimmy quickly brings his hands to grip your thighs. “Oh darlin’…” After a moment of adjusting to him, you raise yourself up, your hands on his chest, quickly falling again, the warmth already rising in your stomach. 

He groans again, feeling your warmth clasp around him. Jimmy mumbles nonsense, only every few words intelligible. You didn’t mind his sounds, just wished you knew what he was saying. You could make guesses, though.

With another thrust, the two of you fall into a nice rhythm. Every time you’d slide down, he’d buck up to meet you. It was a strange way to lose your virginity, but you weren’t really sure if there was a uniform way to do it. Moans spilled from your newly dirty lips, and somehow, pride was apparent in them. You were brand new to the game, but had Jimmy Darling (of all people!) a groaning mess beneath you.

“J-Jimmy!” You pant, Jimmy pushing you back down to meet his hips. He let out a loud grunt escape his lips, feeling you pulse on his cock.

Meanwhile, Jimmy was lost in his own little world. You were the center of his thoughts, how fucking gorgeous you looks sitting on his cock, the angelic sounds you made, the way your body moved… He was so proud of himself for landing a girl as amazing as you. His mind didn’t even jump to the fact that he didn’t deserve you, unlike usual. It was safe to say that you had blown his mind with your sudden dominance.

He had been with two or three girls before. They were awkward, mostly drunken encounters, who were quick and dirty in the back alley. A back alley Sally, if you will. And I mean, who would want to fuck the lobster boy sober? They had gone with whatever he lead with, and probably ignored him the entire time. None of them spoke up about what they wanted, or even attempted at communicating their needs. 

But you took charge, apparently, and Jimmy loved that.

With his hands still on your hips and in the perfect sync, he made an attempt at flipping the pair of you over, so that you were on the bed. A second later, you dismount the handsome boy and lay on the bed, the warm Florida breeze sticking to your skin. Jimmy eagerly takes the opportunity and climbs on top of you, peppering kisses on your neck and chest. 

It’s not but a few seconds before he’s mercilessly (well, almost) pounding into you. Now, it was your turn to be the moaning mess beneath your lover, enjoying every single second.

“Jim- Ah!” You shout, Jimmy’s hand quickly rising to cover your mouth. 

“Shh. We don’t wanna be caught, do we?” Shaking your head no, he lifts his hand. Quickly, and without warning, you feel yourself release over him again. He groans. Not but a few minutes later, both of you had finished and were laying messily sprawled out on the bed. “Well then…” 

“Well then, indeed.” You confirm. He smiles, pulling your bare body closer. And soon enough, the pair of you are fast asleep, praying that nobody entered the van until morning.

Women are a balancing act

Don’t eat too much, don’t eat too little. Don’t be fat, don’t be too skinny. God do you ever stop eating? Woah do you ever eat? The not-so-well-concealed looks of disgust, the not-so-well-concealed looks of concern.

Don’t be loud. Don’t be quiet. Have a voice in society, leave the talking to the big boys. You want something, speak up! No, no, when it’s your turn, sweetie. Ugh, she never shuts up, it’s obnoxious. Have you ever heard her talk? I don’t even know what her voice sounds like.

Make sure your skirt is long enough, but not too long. Don’t make yourself too available, but you don’t want to look like a grandma. Show off what you got, but if you do it’s your fault if anything happens. Was your skirt long enough? How is any boy going to look at you if you wear that?

Have sex, but stay innocent. Give us what we want, but we hate sluts. Virgins are so sweet. What do you mean you want to stay abstinent until marriage? Do you even live in our society? Live without sex is boring. Life with sex is disgusting. God, have you seen her? She’s banged every guy in the school. God, have you seen her? Still a virgin at her age.

Be smart, but not too smart. Boys like a smarter girl. Boys can’t stand it when you know more than them. Play dumb. Ugh, not that dumb, god, weren’t you even listening? They like a smarter girl. No, no, now you just look like a nerd. Girls don’t belong in the classroom, they have to take care of the kids. You want a well-paying job? Take some incentive and study. You can’t slack off because your a girl.

Do what you love, but don’t. Be yourself, unless it goes against what we say. Do you love to do your hair and makeup? Great, you’re good to go. Approved. Do you love videogames and guns? You’re faking it. You’re lying. You’re pretending. You’re wrong

—  Balancing Act. A little piece I wrote because I’m tired of walking on the beam. 
Imagine...Finding Sam’s Daughter

Originally posted by spntvdhunger

Request: Could you do a single dad sam where his daughter is trying really hard to get him with someone. So she runs off at the mall when she sees the reader, and tells her she is lost. Reader tries to help, child then plays match maker once sam is found lots of fluff and maybe a bit steamy (wink wink). 

Pairing: Sam x reader

Warnings: implied smut


Keep reading

NCT 127 + Ten Reaction to: A Girl Joining The Group

@thekpophut hope you enjoy! ~

Edit: also @lol-i-have-know-idea ty for pointing out I forgot Ten lol!! I keep getting confused w all the members … I might need need to cut back on the no. I write for … >.< but ty, seriously!


Taeil: He’s super … awkward. He wants to be a loving big bro but isn’t good at expressing his emotions so he’s distant. He’s very loving though and gives good advice, you just need to approach him first. Won’t stop you doing what you want e.g going to a party. But he does warn you about not getting too drunk or going home with a stranger. And is willing to wait up and be your ride, if you need one. Also willing to help you entertainment wise, in any way he can. But like with your personal life, you need to approach him first.

Originally posted by taei

Johnny: Acts like he’s an innocent big brother but secretly, just between you two, he’s the “cool” bro. He hooks you up with his hot friends and sneaks you alcohol if you’re of legal age. While the others may say “Oh that skirt is too short,” he’s the one who smuggles the skirt out so you pass by the others in jeans but change into it in the car on the way to the party. Oh, yeah about those parties … Any one that he dj’s, he invites you to (one again, only if you’re legal age). Johnny doesn’t shelter or coddle you. If you’re not practicing hard enough then he’ll definitely tell you off. And he’ll also slip you dental dams/condoms and warn you about safe sex too. There’s no nonsense with him haha.

Originally posted by withsuh

Taeyong: Is warm and inviting. Makes sure to include you in all their gags and games, treating you like one of the boys but also … not. He includes you but treats you like a delicate flower, yelling at the others if they hit you with a ball or curse around you. He just wants to protect you, esp. as you face a lot of haters, being the only girl in the group.

Originally posted by neotechs

Yuta: ”Oh great, another member. Just what NCT is lacking!” he jokes. It’s an antagonistic brother-sister relationship, where you act like enemies but he would fight anyone who hurt your feelings. Ok, maybe not fight, but he would definitely sass them out. On shows, he always says snappy remarks to your haters that leave the viewers in stitches.

Originally posted by nkmtos

Doyoung: Tries too hard to seem friendly and welcoming, to the point where it’s awkward. But once you get used to each other, he’s less awkward to talk to. Wants to be the one to help you fit in so if you form the strongest bond with him, he’ll be really chuffed.

“I already have a brother and now I have a sister,” he says fondly, whenever an interviewer asks about you.

Originally posted by doyoungce

Ten: Immediately calls you his “sister.” He’ll always drag you along to play games or cook, so you’re not bored or feeling excluded. He ensures that you fit in quickly. And hardly even notices that you’re a girl. He’s comfortable enough around you to even fart and not wash his hands lol

Originally posted by tenchittaphonsnose

Jaehyun: May be a little flirtatious but only in a friendly way, to boost your confidence. He knows that SM would murder you both if there was a romantic relationship so his comments are strictly platonic, meant to encourage you.

“Don’t worry about the anti’s! You’re beautiful and talented. You make the rest of us look worthless ~”

Originally posted by yonges

Winwin: Takes super good care of you. Knows that being an idol requires hard work and as the only female, you’ll be under even worse scrutiny than the others. So can be a harsh critic of your dancing skills but when you practice hard and impress him, he’ll treat you to ice cream. It’s a very “firm but loving older brother” relationship.

Originally posted by yutaejpg

Mark: Tries to act like you’re just another group member BUT YOU’RE NOT YOU’RE A GIRL OMG WHAT SHOULD HE DO??!?!?!?!? Will take some time to relax around you, since he’s overly conscious of the gender difference. But once he relaxes, he stops seeing you as a girl and more as a member of NCT.

Originally posted by beautaeilful

Haechan: If you’re younger, he will take pleasure in teasing and annoying you. Pulling your hair, flicking your ear, making smart remarks about “Oh this move is too hard for a girl” or “Should we really say things like this in front of a weak girl?” But he’s only doing it to annoy you and not bc he actually believes that girls are worth less than boys.

Originally posted by haenyan

If you’re older, he’s all sugar and spice and everything nice. He’s a perfect angel, always complimenting you and being polite. He’s doing it so you will buy him things and to ensure that he’s your favourite member.

“Noona, I love you.”
“I love you too, Haechannie. That’s why you’re my favourite member!”
*smug smirk*

Originally posted by donghyukslee

Don’t Make A Sound

Summary: Requested through Vikings Kink Bingo (I & 11 - Hvitserk & Praise Kink) Hvitserk likes to praise his good girl this time it’s when there’s company across the room


Warnings: NSFW, smut, praise kink, smut in public, language,


You and Hvitserk were quite the secret pair. The two of you often found splice amongst other in each other’s arms. It was hard to explain what the two of you were. In public Hvitserk would send you winks and swipe his tongue across his bottom lip to remind you what he could really do.



But he never showed you affection in public and you were okay with that because as soon as the two of you were alone he was fucking you better and better each time. That’s why on a night during Yule you were shocked when he waved you over to him. His brothers sat across the fire lost in their drinks and socializing.


You made your way over to him and he gently held your hand to led you to his lap. The moment he moved his cloak off his lap and you sat down, you gasped and widened your eyes. Hvitserk had his trousers down and you could feel his erection digging right between your thighs.


“Sshh, just don’t make a sound.” He whispered in your ear as he draped a blanket over your front.


Your heart pounded and you immediately became wet between your thighs. Pure adrenaline swam through your veins as he moved a hand beneath your dress and brushed the tips of his fingers over your moistened folds.


Despite the cold air, your face burned hot as he dragged his fingers up to your clit. Your breathing was starting to grow heavy but he did not make a comment.


You leaned back into his chest. “Hvitserk, what are you doing? The others will see.” You whispered lightly.


“Not if you be a good girl and keep quiet.” He replied smoothly as his fingers rolled over your clit.


You sucked in a deep breath and looked around to see that everybody was too busy talking to see what was happening. Yet you could not deny the thrill that you felt as he lifted the skirt of your dress up and shuffled beneath you.


“Remember, not a sound.” He whispered.


You felt the head of his cock press against your entrance as he used his other hand to wrench your thighs apart. The big thick fur blanket shielded you from the sights of others. They all didn’t notice when Hvitserk leaned his face into the back of your shoulder and thrusted very slowly inside you.


It had taken everything to swallow that moan that was building in your throat. Hvitserk placed both hands on your hips and started to slowly rock his hips back and forth. You bit your lip and let out a very quiet whimper.


“Hmm good girl.” Hvitserk whispered the praise in your ear as he started to move a little faster.


It was pure torture. Hvitserk moving all around inside you ever so gently and you couldn’t let anyone know. You saw his brothers glance at you but they paid you no mind.


“Your doing so well, Y/N.” Hvitserk mumbled as he continued with his thrusts.


He tightened his grip around your hips as he silently groaned. “Fuck you feel so tight.”


His words of encouragement made your body illuminate with fire. And he kept brushing his lips against the shell of your ear which made you shudder. You could feel yourself growing tight and your mouth fell open.


“Sshh, sshh.” Hvitserk whispered.


You felt warm tingles flood your insides and shoot right through your inner walls. Hvitserk moved his hands to your chest to keep you pressed up against him as your entire body trembled and jerked.


“Almost done Y/N, sshh. That a girl.” Hvitserk whispered between heavy breathes.


You bit your lip and whimpered.


He wrapped his arms around your torso and held in a tight hug as he pressed his face to your back to muffle his own groan before emptying himself inside you.


“Oh… Fuck.” Hvitserk whispered.


Your eyes went to the crowd before you and you noticed Ubbe getting ready to walk over to you.


“Hvitserk.” You whispered in panic.


Hvitserk lifted you up so he could pull out of you and fix himself. He made sure your dress was back down to your ankles before he gave your thigh a little re-assuring pat.


“It’s okay Y/N. I promise to reward you later with my tongue for being such a good girl.”


Your eyes widen as he twisted you sideways so you could look at him. He had just spoke out loud. He was showing you affection in public and when you finally realized it you had trouble figuring out if you were happy or scared.


For Hvitserk had never been so open before.


“Hvitserk, what’s this?” Ubbe’s voice pulled your focus. You looked up to see Ubbe pointing at you.


“I’m showing off my soon to be wife. What does it look like?” Hvitserk grinned and spoke the words loud and clear.


Everyone turned to look at you. All you could do was smile nervously at all of them.

@alittleblackmagic @rekdreams247 @sweetvengeancee @sconniebelle @unicorn-glitter-princess @alyhavoc @fawnbrrry @rrwilson66 @kolvanismirk @ivarthefuckboy @ivars-heathen @cracraforfandoms @kamcrazy123 @bluearchersstuff @fuckyou-and-fuckthis @float-autumn-leave @oddsnendsfanfics @whenimaunicorn @violetsonthelam @readsalot73 @manuugxlvis @hayleighloatx @kirah34 @dani-si @helavalkyira @rosie-and-honey @pandainfinitely @readallday24-7 @missbrightlyred @thatonepuremoment

VIXX as Boyfriends

Originally posted by greennocturne

N/Cha Hakyeon

Look at him pretending to be all innocent 😂 N would be such a sweet, caring, and romantic boyfriend. He’ll buy you a bouquet of roses and surprise you with it, just to watch the delighted smile on your face. He’ll spend hours cooking you dinner, complete with candles lit on the table, worrying about getting every detail just right.

Keep reading

Dancing Queen

Young and sweet, only seventeen. OOOOH OOOOOOOH. OOOh OOOOOOH.


  • Noctis can’t dance to save his life lmao. He’s okay at like, slow dancing, but only because you don’t need any real rhythm or coordination.
  • Prompto’s good. Like you’d expect him to be like Noctis, but the boy is gifted. He’s particularly good at learning choreographed dances.
  • Gladio can’t dance. Or really, he won’t dance. He feels too big and awkward. Which is a shame, because he’s got a great sense of rhythm.
  • Ignis can do formal dances, but he still hasn’t quite adjusted to being as tall and lanky as he is (puberty hit Sweetness hard and he never recovered). Come at him talking about anything casual and he’ll run
  • Nobody’s?? Ever seen Ravus dance??? They don’t even know if he knows what music is
  • Luna’s lucky she’s so cute because all she does is twirl around in circles. She somehow manages to do this off beat. She likes to watch her skirts billow, leave her alone
  • Aranea is queen of shaking her ass
  • So is Cindy, lordamercy
  • Crowe dances like a dad but she’s hot so nobody cares
  • Nyx is really good at belly dancing and shit like that. Probably gives good lap-dances too but I wouldn’t know, we aren’t talking
  • Pelna also dances like a dad, and again nobody cares because he’s fine
  • Libertus sorta just bounces along with whatever beat is going, he’s not a big dancer

jugheadbughead  asked:

I hope you are still doing this but can you do 90 plz?

90. Sorry I have feelings too…

“What are you even talking about?!” Betty moaned, her face buried in her hands as she sat across her boyfriend at Pops Diner.

“What do you mean “what am i talking about?” I have made it very clear exactly what I’m talking about.“ Jughead huffed, arms crossed and a permanent scowl etched on his face.

"I just don’t see why it’s such a big deal. It was one time Juggie! Literally one time.” The beautiful blonde explained, tugging on the ends of her cheerleading skirt as she reached for a book from her backpack.

“It’s the principle Betty! There are lines that you do not cross, there are… relationship lines!” The beanie wearing boy explained pushing his burger away “I have lost my appetite.” Jughead exclaimed, the most defiant look in his eyes.

“Oh my god, Juggie you are being so dramatic.” Betty tried desperately to conceal her giggles at her pouting teenage boyfriend.

“Sorry I have feelings too!” He threw his hands in the air, snatching the book from her hands and holding it out of reach.

“We were coming home from visiting my grandparents! I can’t help that my parents wanted to stop at Friendlys! And I can’t help that we don’t have any in Riverdale. I also can’t help that you weren’t there!”

“It’s a right of passage! As my girlfriend you should always tell me when you’re getting ice cream! I would’ve driven to meet you! I hear they have the best strawberry!” His tone was exceptionally whiny and Betty finally let her laughter release.

“It was two hours away! By the time you would have got there we would have been gone” she giggled, moving to the other side of the booth and plopping into his lap.

Jughead wrapped his arms around his girlfriends waist subconsciously.

“Instagram. I had to find out through Instagram.” He mumbled as Betty peppered kisses to his neck.

“I promise next time I get ice cream, you’ll be the first person I call, okay?”

Jughead sighed, dropping a kiss to her lips

“Fine. You’re forgiven. But milkshakes are on you.”

Betty melted into Jugheads chest, a smile on both of their faces.

“Deal.”

Lets talk about clothes..

Manners maketh man, but clothes make a woman.

Clothes relate to your personality. That much has always been true. If you feel timid, you dress timid. If you need to fake it, you put on a bold lip, strut your stuff and hope no one sees your mask slowly slipping.
It’s like that for the girls too.


You have Eun Jae who is so stuck in her innocence that she can’t do anything but wear baggy dresses with t-shirts. It reminds her of her youth. Back in school when she vaguely knew what was happening and she could vaguely deal with it. The progression is minimal. From Ye-Eun dressing her in season one for her Sunbae, to season two where her attempt to be sexy looks more like a doll dressed to the nines. But it suites her. Because as much as she doesn’t want to be, she is timid. She’s timid and vulnerable and those aren’t necessarily bad things. Her oversized dresses and running shoes portray her need for comfort, her need to feel a little familiar in a big unfamiliar world that mostly feels out to get her. But it’s interesting, because everyone always says that those that feel vulnerable or scared cover their wrists, they wear things that protect their hands because that is what they hide behind. Eun Jae’s wrists are almost always seen though. Her short sleeves and strappy dresses show off her arms because she wants to go out into the world and see new things, be a new person. But she also wants to feel at home and safe.


Contrary to this you have Ye-Eun, who used to be all pinks, glitter and short skirts but is now ankle length, hand covering blacks and greys. The trauma that she went through is clearly portrayed in her wardrobe, She hunches inside her big skirts and t-shirts, hoping they will make her invisible to everyone around her. The blame she feels is also very clear. Her statement color, pink, felt like it drew in her attacker. She put herself out into the world, only to be chewed up and spat out, hurt. Pink was no longer the way the go. Pink attracted predators. Pink attracted him. Now she was going to attract no one, she was going to be seen by no one. So she changed her hair, changed her clothes and turned herself into a wall flower. As her confidence grows though, so does the color in her wardrobe. Slowly the pinks come back. In a stripe on her t-shirt, the in the lining of her skirt. Clothes portray who we are and want to be on the inside, on our outer shell. 

 
Jin Myung went through a development. In the first seasons she wore what was cheapest, comfiest and probably easiest to wash. Now, in a professional setting for the first time she hopes to evoke an aura of ‘I know what I’m doing’. The green tones her suites have portray her want to be recognized but only a certain amount. She wants to be noticed, she wants to belong. Her slightly too big blouses however prove that she is still the woman she attempted to leave behind. Skintight and fitting is not Jin Myung. No. Jin Myung-sshi is still all caution and warning signs. So when shes home she is in sweats with her hair tied up because there is no comfort to be found in her suits and sometimes all you need is a little comfort. 


Eun portrays what conforming to society might look like. She was told all her life that she couldn’t have her hair long, that she was too tall to be a girl - ever mistaken for a boy. If you tell a kid something long enough, eventually they come to believe it. So she wears long shirts, cargo pants and vans. Because if they’re going to think I’m a boy, they I may as well make it convincing. She wants to step out of her shell though - she owns a skirt, she owns brightly colored shorts because Eun is not all timid, she’s not all bark. Sometimes she’s bite too. But she conforms, because doing anything other than that seems like too much work, it could hit too close to home. She could get hurt again. So, she stays in her sneakers and suit pants and hopes that someone will look closely enough to notice that she is trying though. 

 
The most interesting case is Ji Won, the free spirit who portrays the gypsy ideal. Her kimonos and blue patterned dresses scream ‘look at me’. Putting on new clothes and playing characters is her thing but you can tell towards the end of the season that she is lost. After her encounter at the house something changed. Her clothes, while still long, flowing with bright aspects – changed. That’s because the way she held herself changed. The blacks that she never wore are suddenly very present, the sunglasses that once looked adorkable now seem sad. Because clothes adapt to how a person feels and suddenly everything that Ji Won felt was wrong.   

[A work of 10 minutes but whatevs]

Leigh Bardugo Quote Starters

A collection of rp starters from all of Leigh Bardugo’s books, because I love her. And Six of Crows was an absolute masterpiece. Challenge; If you reblog this from an RP blog, send them one!


  • “What’s the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet?“ 
  • "Knife to the throat?”
  • “Gun to the back?”
  • “Poison in his cup?”
  • “Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you’ll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won’t matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart.” 
  • “I would have come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together-knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”
  • “The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true.”
  • “No mourners. No funerals.”
  • “I missed you every hour. And you know what the worst part was? It caught me completely by surprise.”
  • “It’s not natural for women to fight.“
  • "It’s not natural for someone to be as stupid as he is tall, and yet there you stand.”
  • “I will have you without armor. Or I will not have you at all.”
  • “When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.”
  • “My ghost won’t associate with your ghost.”
  • “The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.”
  • “The water hears and understands. The ice does not forgive.”
  • “I’m a business man. No more, no less.”
  • “You’re a thief.”
  • "Isn’t that what I just said?”
  • “When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable.”
  • “The less you say, the more weight your words will carry.”
  • “We are all someone’s monster.”
  • “Fear is a phoenix. You can watch it burn a thousand times and still it will return.”
  • “I am not ruined. I am ruination.”
  • “Please, my darling, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?”
  • “Watch yourself, princes bleed just like other men.”
  • “Yes. They just do it in better clothes.”
  • “I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath.”
  • “What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.”
  • “Anything worth doing always starts as a bad idea.” 
  • “I will strip away all that you know, all that you love, until you have no shelter but mine.”
  • “Make me your villain.”
  • “Men mock the gods until they need them.”
  • “Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don’t forget. They tell each other who to look after and who to watch out for.”
  • "Let’s not say things we don’t mean, my love.”
  • "You’re better than waffles.”
  • “But I’ve also been known to answer to ‘sweetheart’ or ‘handsome.’”
  • “Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.”
  • “You love trickery.”
  • “I love puzzles. Trickery is just my native tongue.”
  • “The easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch. You take his attention and direct it where you want it to go.”
  • “Scheming face.”
  • “Greed is your god.”
  • "Greed bows to me. It is my servant and my lever.”
  • "You and I are going to change the world.”
  • “And there’s nothing wrong with being a lizard either. Unless you were born to be a hawk.”
  • “How many times have you told me you’re a monster? So be a monster. Be the thing they all fear when they close their eyes at night.”
  • “Maybe love was superstition, a prayer we said to keep the truth of loneliness at bay.”
  • “You aren’t a flower, you’re every blossom in the wood blooming at once. You are a tidal wave. You’re a stampede. You are overwhelming.”  
  • “Oh, and the easiest way to make someone furious is to tell them to calm down.”
  • “And that was what destroyed you in the end: the longing for something you could never have.”
  • “I don’t hold a grudge. I cradle it. I coddle it. I feed it fine cuts of meat and send it to the best schools. I nurture my grudges.”
  • “There are two thrones on that dais. You could see me any time you liked.”
  • "I’m not used to people trying to kill me.”
  • “This action will have no echo.”
  • “I hope you weren’t looking to me to be the voice of reason. I keep to a strict diet of ill-advised enthusiasm and heartfelt regret.”
  • “I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important.“
  • “You have a way of talking that makes me want to shoot someone. Preferably you.”
  • “People point guns at each other all the time here. It’s basically a handshake.”
  • “Do you answer a question directly?”
  • “Hard to say. Ah, there, I’ve done it again.”
  • “Weakness is a guise. Wear it when they need to know you’re human, but never when you feel it.”
  • “You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.”
  • “I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”
  • "Everyone needs a hobby.”
  • “This whole ‘shoot me’ thing is starting to concern me.”
  • “Suffering is like anything else. Live with it long enough, you learn to like the taste.”
  • “You know the problem with heroes and saints? They always end up dead.”
  • “Where do think the money went?“
  • “I’m perfectly capable of being stupid on my own.”
  • "I came here for you. You’re my flag. You’re my nation.”
  • “We are alike as no one else is, as no one else will ever be.”
  • "I’ve had a lot of nicknames, but that one is easily the most accurate.”
  • “If only you could talk to girls in equations.”
  • “Always hit where the mark isn’t looking.”
  • “Who’s Mark?”
  • “I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important.”
  • “It’s a vow that if I can’t be anything else to you, at least I can be a weapon in your hand.”
  • “What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.”
  • “Do you have a different name for killing when you wear a uniform to do it?”
  • “Brick by brick, I will destroy you.” 
  • “Do you blame me for every mistake I made? For every girl I tumbled? For every dumb thing I’ve said? Because if we start running tallies on stupid, you know who’s going to come out ahead.”
  • “Well, if it gets too bad, give me a signal, and I’ll get up on the banquet table, toss my skirt over my head, and do a little dance. That way no one will be looking at you.”
  • “Did you tell him what I showed you in the dark?”
  • “When we get our money, you can burn it to keep you warm.”
  • “I’m going to pay someone to burn my money for me.”
  • “Why don’t you pay someone else to pay someone to burn your money for you? That’s what the big players do.”
  • “I can’t decide if you’re a fearmonger or a coward.”
  • “And I can’t decide if you’re an idiot or an idiot.”
  • “Maybe your tutors didn’t cover this lesson, but you do not argue with a man covered in blood and a knife up his sleeve.”
  • “You wouldn’t know a good time if it sidled up to you and stuck a lollipop in your mouth.”
  • “Thanks for being my best friend and making my life bearable. Oh, and sorry I fell in love with you for a while there.”
  • “Facts are for the unimaginative.”
Halloween Confessions

One year, when my son and daughter were age three and five, I made them be dirty bags of garbage for Halloween. This is what happened.

It rained hard that year, and not just a little rain, no, this is Western Oregon. It was a pounding rain that could drive a small child to their knees. The kids woke up early that morning, put on their flimsy Power Ranger costumes, and rampaged through the house in a pre-sugar rush of epic proportions. Listening to the rain pounding the roof I was doubtful it would ease in time for them to go trick-or-treating. I was right.

By mid-afternoon I knew we needed to stay home and did my best to explain the situation to them in an understanding manner. All hell broke loose and overall hysteria ensued. Tears, recriminations, and begging took the place of their happy excitement. My daughter swore I would never be forgiven, and she carries her grudges with a death grip.

Finally, it became obvious neither logic nor parental authority would remedy the situation. We were going trick-or-treating. Their snow suits would keep them warm but not dry, rain coats would keep them dry but not warm. Desperate, I announced that they would be dirty bags of garbage or we weren’t going.

They refused to take off their Power Ranger costumes. So, snowsuits were placed over the costumes for warmth, then I cut and Duct taped large, heavy trash bags over the top and stuffed them with wadded up newspapers. A thick tinfoil hat pinned to their hoods acted as a final defense against the rain.

Off we went, into the raging storm, to gather candy I most certainly didn’t want them to eat.

The question everywhere we went was, “What are you two supposed to be?” My kids would mournfully reply that they were trash.    

They’re adults now, but they still remember that Halloween. I wonder if their future children will also be dirty bags of garbage.

Another year, when my daughter was seven, I made her be a pregnant farmer. This is what happened.

I’ve never been a big fan of Halloween, as I always limited the sugar intake of my children. Because I was unwilling to spend much time, money, or effort on costumes, my kids had to create their own. This task was quite often left until the last minute. My son solved the problem by wearing camouflage every year, but my daughter was far more particular.

That year, as the witching hour arrived, she still hadn’t settled on an idea and was tearing through the house in a raging panic. Her brother stood by the front door screaming at her to hurry. He was getting more frustrated by the minute. I tried to stay detached from the drama, as I wanted them to solve their own problems whenever possible.

Finally, I just couldn’t it take anymore.

I grabbed a long, patchwork skirt with an elastic waist that had made a mysterious appearance in our home, a straw hat, and a pair of rubber boots.

“You’re going to be a farmer,” I told her.

She seemed to accept the idea, but when I put the skirt on her tiny frame, it fell off and landed at her feet. It was too big. Another round of madness ensued.

Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it in the waist band. This held the skirt in place, but it left her with a huge bulge in the front.

“There,” I said. “You’re a pregnant farmer.”

“But, I don’t want to be pregnant,” she wailed.

“Well, you should have thought about that before you got yourself into this mess,” I replied.

She accepted the solution and off we went.

At that point in our lives, we were living in Holier-Than-Thou suburbia. The sight of my tiny, grumpy, pseudo-pregnant daughter waddling up and down the street gathering candy was an unusual sight to be sure.

“What are you supposed to be,” everyone asked.

“A pregnant farmer,” she cried, “but I don’t want to be pregnant.” Her expression was heartbreaking.

The sympathy she received resulted in extra-large handfuls of candy dutifully deposited into her sack. It didn’t take long before she caught on to her tragic backstory, and she quickly learned to exploit it. We had to come home twice so she could empty out her candy and return to her ruse.

And that’s the story of how my daughter was a pregnant farmer for Halloween.  

3rd Hour: Bad Behavior- Jimin(Smut)

Originally posted by ohparkjimin

1st Hour: Bangtan High- Jungkook

2nd Hour: A Helping Hand- Taehyung


The only thing he can ace is participation. In and out of the classroom


Req: May i have an Office smut between the reader and Jimin please?

Req: a series of high school au for each member? can be smut or fluff!



“Oh god.” You moan as soon as you enter the principal’s office with a stack of neatly aligned papers, watching a smug grin curl on Jimin’s lips as he sits in the principal’s reclining chair.

“Hello Y/N.” His eyes roam your attire, displeased to find barely a lick of exposed skin from your stockings to the hem of your skirt.

“Nice try.” You jut out a hip, neatly placing the stack of papers on the corner of the desk.

“Such a kind and orderly office aide.” Jimin hums, giving you a thin look laced with bad intention. “It’s always so nice to see you.”  

You couldn’t say the same, especially after having him in here nearly every day for the past few weeks. And especially after having to be in the same school as him since middle school where you confessed your love and had him laugh in your face.

So you couldn’t really describe his all too regular visits as nice.

It seemed every time he came the reasons became stupider and stupider, as if he was just looking for an excuse to get another red card. You can’t deny the first time he came in you were a little flushed to see him, for even your reasonable demeanor could not resist the temptation of his godly looks.

You believed him to be a good student, maybe a fuck boy since he always had girls on every arm but good for him. He was getting more action in a day then you had in your life. You had to give credit where credit was due.

Now though you are just annoyed. With his presence. With his looks. And how your stomach still panned out every time you came into contact with him. From lust or dread you wished you didn’t know.  

“What are you even doing in here? Oh, wait, let me rephrase that, what did you do this time to end up in here? And why are you sitting in the principal’s chair?

“So many questions.” He rolls his eyes, taking a lip between his teeth and rolling it in boredom. “I may have told the teacher to go fuck herself with a screwdriver. And then I may or may not have commented it probably would be too big for her since she’s so uptight.”

Your mouth falls open, shaking your head at his endless stupidity before continuing your rant. “Nonetheless, you’re only allowed to sit here and here.” You point to the cheap chairs behind you. “These are where the bad boys have to wait.”  

Jimin leans over the desk, suddenly interested with your words. “You think I’m a bad boy, Y/N?”

Keep reading

So Darkness I Became Pt. 3 - Stark!reader x Tormund

a/n: First of all, ~*some people*~ are still alive because FITE ME. Second of all, I have always admired Tormund’s honesty and how he lays everything out on the table. Third of all, thank you to everyone who has liked this story and sent me supportive messages. I’m touched. If you would like to be tagged in these installments, I’ll be happy to oblige.

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 5772 

Your name: submit What is this?

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five// part six // part seven // part eight // part nine // part ten // part eleven// part twelve // part thirteen

You opened your eyes and found yourself sitting in a chair in a small room. You blinked, and creeping dread captured your heart. The banner hanging on the wall…

“Mother!”

You stood at once, heart now pounding for the shouts through the halls.

“Mother, Mother please!”

Running through the door of your chambers, you began to panic.

Smalljon had Rickon by the arm, dragging him like a dead body. “She isn’t your mother, you bloody fool! Stupid fucking boy!”

“No!” You flew to slam your fists against your husband’s back. You pushed and shoved until he turned around. “Let him go! Let go of him, he’s just a little boy!”

“Then control the boy!” he shouted in your face. He was almost as big as the Greatjon, almost the biggest man you’d ever seen, and you were no taller than Mother.

You hated how he made you retreat, made you cower, made the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, but you stood between him and Rickon. Your youngest brother, only nine, wrapped his arms around your legs and wept into your skirts. Without looking away from your husband’s eyes, you reached back to touch the boy’s hair. “He’s confused. It isn’t his fault, Lord Umber. Tell me what he’s done, and I’ll see he’s disciplined properly. You’re much too big for such a small matter.”

“Mother, please!” Rickon cried again. “I want to go home, Mother, please.”

“Do you hear this?” Smalljon sneered cruelly at you, stooping over you. “He wants to go home.”

“And he also thinks I’m his mother, but he’s wrong on both counts. It’s not his fault that he’s not all there. If Ned were to chew too loudly, it would be acceptable for me to start to drag him on the floor?” you demanded.

“Don’t talk about my boy,” Smalljon uttered threateningly.

“Then don’t hurt mine!” You shouted far too loudly, and now, as Smalljon crept closer, you were truly afraid.

“Shut him up. Shut him up now!”

“Ricky!” You clenched your eyes shut against your husband and tried to pull Rickon up. “Darling, quiet now. Everything is all right, my sweet. Ssh, hush now. You’re upsetting Father.” In truth, it sickened you every time you had to refer to Smalljon as such, and it sickened you to use it to manipulate Rickon, and you never would, were it not for his safety. He quieted within seconds, and slowly stood behind you.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sorry, Father.” He shook like a leaf.

You stroked your hand through his curly mop of hair and smiled kindly. “Everything is all right, darling. Go and play with Shaggydog.”

He sniffled, then ran the opposite way, leaving you with an angry Smalljon. You looked up at him again, tried to breathe steadily. “I am sorry, Lord Umber, for whatever he did, and I am sorry for what I have done. He isn’t well. I’ll send the maester.”

Smalljon pressed you up against the wall, his hands hard and unforgiving. “Do you know what I think, dear wife?”

You shook your head, eyes closed again. “No, husband, I don’t.”

“Y/N.”

“I said I don’t.”

Big hands took your shoulders, and you were screaming.

“No! No, stop! Get away, don’t touch me!” you cried, pushing the hands away.

“Y/N!”

You opened your eyes again, and everything was changed. You were safe in your bedchambers, tucked into your furs like a babe, with the aching knowledge of Rickon’s death and the touch of Smalljon still burning your skin. You blinked again, and saw the man you’d been fighting was Tormund.

“Oh, shit.” You sat up and shook your head at his troubled face. “No, no, I’m sorry. Please. Forgive me.”

Loud pounding came to your door. “Lady Stark! Lady Stark!”

“I was only sleeping!” You called to the guard. “Please, I am safe and sound.” After a few seconds, footsteps faded away. You sighed and frowned up at Tormund. “You probably think I’m mad.”

He shook his head, a darkness polluting his strong features. “You were dreaming about him.”

“Not pleasantly.”

“I know.” Tormund pulled his fur coat over you and tucked you against his shoulder. “You’re having those dreams more often.”

“I am sorry, Tormund. You don’t have to stay the night in bed with me, I’ve told you.” You tried to smile, tried to shift the black mood. “You only have to fuck me properly, remember?”

It only made his face more sour. “Tell me.”

Realising there was no avoiding it this time, you sighed and lay back against your pillows. “I dreamt I was at Last Hearth, and Smalljon was bullying Rickon. His mind was addled by everything that had happened to us and our family, and, by the time he turned eight, he had convinced himself that I was Mother. It just made things worse, the poor love. It made Smalljon angrier, and killed my heart. I was standing up for Rickon in my dream. Smalljon didn’t like that. Tormund, you’d never seen me in your life and only saw Rickon the day he was killed. There was nothing you could have done.”

“I know that.” He said it, but you suspected he couldn’t feel it. He sat beside you, bare-chested and scarred, looking down at his hands. Hands that had stabbed Smalljon Umber’s face. You grabbed one of them and pulled it to your chest.

“You owe me lessons today,” you reminded him. “You must take me to Winter Town. I’ve got a gift for Ser Wun Weg Wun Dar Wun. Did I get that right?”

“What lessons, why Winter Town, and what about Wun Wun?” Tormund gracelessly threw back the sheets and furs to look at you.

“My dear Ginger Giant, I had hoped you remembered. My only use in life has been what I learned from Maester Luwin. Osha said I was good as a wood witch with herbs and healing. Of course, I can’t say whether that’s true or not, but when the Valemen marched on Last Hearth and gave me the wonderful news, I swore an oath to treat any man or woman who fought for the Starks. Imagine my surprise when I rode into Winterfell and found a giant. A real giant, not like you giant. Wun Wun. He was barely hanging on by a thread, and he looked like a pincushion with all those arrows sticking out of him. Jon convinced him to let the healers help him, and we did. I think he’s wonderful. I’d always wanted to see a giant, but really, he’s marvelous, not a spectacle. All the stories Old Nan told of giants eating bulls whole and mixing blood in their porridge, and Wun Wun won’t even eat another creature’s flesh.”

“What in the hell does that have to do with a gift?”

You laughed, completely unashamed of your naked body on which his eyes feasted. “He’s getting well again. And we owe him so much more than we can afford to give. I spoke with Edd. You know, Jon’s friend who’s ‘not’ Lord Commander? I sent him a raven asking for the bow left by one of the giants slain at the battle of Castle Black. Don Goh? I asked him for the bow, and requested ballista be made by the smiths here. Now, Wun Wun can arm himself and shoot back.”

Tormund smiled and bent his neck to kiss you. “You won’t stop until you’ve armed everyone from beyond the Wall, will you? I’m proud you’ve done this for him, She-Beast. You’re the very best of us.”

“I thought it best to lead with that.” You smiled back, but cast your eyes down. “I also have to tell you I’m leaving Winterfell for a time.” The room fell quiet and still. You felt your lover shift on the feather mattress, felt him gazing down at you.

“…What?” His big hand practically covered the span of your belly. “That’s buggering nonsense. You’re a Stark of Winterfell. Where the fuck else do you belong?”

“I’ll be riding for Last Hearth—”

He scoffed loudly. “The fuck you are.”

“My father taught me to honour my duties. I’m not very good at that, unfortunately, which is why I’m commonly referred to as ‘The Wildling’s Whore’—”

“Who said that?” he shouted. When you reached for his hand, he snatched it away.

You straightened your back against the headboard. “Listen to me, Ginger Giant. I refuse to stop being with you because you make me happiest and chances are there won’t be any of us left in a year, so what does my duty to the House of Stark matter in the long term? I don’t need to marry or bear sons. I’ll never have the chance, or, if I did, I would bring a child into a world where…where all the evils of the known world are coming for him. But I do have a son, and he lives at Last Hearth.”

When Tormund finally looked at you, his gaze was hard enough to stay your next words. He stood from the bed you’d been sharing and started to pace the length of the foot of the bed. His shoulders gathered tension, as did his brow, and when he looked at you again, his eyes were of dark ice. “You gave him a son.”

You jumped when he shoved a trunk out of his way and knocked over a screen. “It isn’t—”

“You didn’t want to, I know.” Tormund held on to the edge of the long table, his arms shaking. “Smallcock Umber made you take his seed and you hid the little boy to protect him from the invading forces. You’ve kept him secret to keep anyone from murdering him. Bring him here, Y/N. He’ll be ours. I’ll raise him.”

“I paid the price of not giving Smalljon sons in blood, I promise you, I’ve never borne a child for him or any man,” you said quickly, fighting the stinging strangle in your heart. “Little Lord Umber, little Ned. He’s no one left but advisors and a maester, and you know how many people have called for his head on a pike. He’s only a boy, and he faces so much now, and I broke my vows of marriage, but I won’t break my oath to family. What kind of woman would I be to leave her son alone at the end of times, surrounded by his enemies?”

Tormund appeared relieved, but it was still overshadowed by anger. “You don’t belong in that place where he beat you and forced you. It is a cursed place. Nothing good will come of this, and the Umber is not your son, he is not your child, you are not responsible. His people are responsible for him.”

“I agree that I don’t belong there, never want to lay eyes on it again, but I must see to Ned, and then I will return. I didn’t mean forever. When the Valemen came, we didn’t know what it meant, what would happen. I kept Ned with me while his father went to battle because he was still only a boy, an innocent, and he was so frightened to see the cavalry. He thought he was going to die, that I would die.” You kissed his crooked knuckles. “He’s been brave, he’s done well, but I’ve gotten a raven from him. So I’ll go.”

“I don’t like it.” Tormund closed his fist around your hand. “If you think you’ll go without me, you’ve hit your head on that board too many times.”

“I can’t take you,” you whispered gently. “It’s Last Hearth.”

He scowled. “All of a sudden you feel shame for sucking my cock?”

Now you frowned and grabbed him rough by his shoulder. Eye to eye, you spoke softly. “Never. If we live to the end of the week or the end of this century, never. Ned is a boy of ten years old and he’s suddenly Lord of a House that despises the Free Folk. As I’ve thanked you for so very much these months, you did kill his father, and he’s terrified of you. If I had my way and took you by my side, it would create nothing but trouble for a sweet little boy in a shite situation. I have to be cautious in this, Tormund, I must be wise.”

“And what if it’s a trick? What if somebody’s slit the boy’s throat and lures you back to kill you and your claim on Last Hearth? Send for the boy and bring him to me, I’ve no son anymore. If you claim he’s yours, I’ll still raise him, better than Smallcock. I can teach him to hunt, to shoot, to kill, make him strong, make him a real Northerner.” Tormund’s voice rose with every other word, and each brought a fresh pang to your heart. It was only the second time he’d mentioned his son to you.

“Ginger—”

“Stop.”

“Do you think me a fool? Dolorous Edd sent four men of the Night’s Watch along with Wun Wun’s bow. They will accompany me.” The argument was twisting your stomach. You had known it was coming, of course, but it threatened to tear your nerves to pieces. You longed so desperately for the easiness between you to return, and to speak no more of sons. “And before you say it, no, I wouldn’t rather have a crow with me than you, but when the people of Last Hearth see Lady Stark—Umber—riding with brothers of the Night’s Watch, that will increase their faith in the North and ease their minds about Ned. They are some of Edd’s trusted men and no one who betrayed Jon.”

“You know they are rapists, don’t you? You know what they could do to you, these strange men you don’t know, these fuckers I’ve been fighting and killing since I was a lad? They’re rapists, killers, they’re cunts, they’re not me.” Tormund was shouting now, inches from your face.

Your shoulders drooped and your head lowered. “Then you tell me what to do.”

“No,” he snapped.

“Tell me what would make you feel like I’m coming back in one piece and not pieces.” You gripped his arm tight, but kept your voice low and soft. “I want to respect your wishes, but you have to be willing to make concessions. I’m not done with you, and you aren’t done with me, that’s fairly obvious, or you wouldn’t be so angry with me. I want to come home. To you. So, please.”

Tormund chewed on his lip for a moment, then sighed and drew you against him. “All right.”

At the end of a fortnight of traveling home, you saw the fires of the watchtowers of Winterfell. Pyp and Grenn flanked you on either side, Ser Davos, the wonderful, abiding man, rode in front, and Wun Wun strode casually to your right, his bow at his back. It became downright embarrassing when Tormund insisted on having Ser Davos involved, but, looking back, the inclusion of Wun Wun shouldn’t have surprised you.

It had taken a while for the point to get across to the giant, just why you, Pyp, Grenn, and Tormund had wheeled a barrow in front of him with the ancient bow inside. When Wun Wun had looked to Tormund and the man nodded, you smiled again, rather nervously, and did a curtsey before him.

“I am grateful,” you spoke slowly, as Tormund had instructed, and pointed to the bow. “This belonged to Don Goh. I had it brought here for you, and look! Arrows fit for you to shoot!”

Wun Wun had looked at you a moment, then reverentially picked up the bow once belonging to his kinsman. He fingered the string, tested its tautness, and finally looked again to you after placing it on his back and standing straight. “Stark.”

You could certainly count that as one of the greatest things that had ever happened to you.

Later, after arrangements had already been made, you’d stayed behind in Winter Town with Tormund late after checking on Karsi’s girls, and you heard him speak to Wun Wun.

“If they charge, kill ‘em all. If they turn traitor after welcoming her in, kill ‘em all slow for me, old friend.”

By now, however grateful you had been for the enduring assistance of the giant, the Onion Knight, and the two lovable twats Jon still called brothers, your ass was killing you from riding so long, and if you never heard Ser Davos speak about which knots were best for sailing slow again, it would be too soon. Because Wun Wun was conspicuous even from a distance, the gates of the castle opened and warm, glowing light poured out. Getting closer now, you saw the shadow of a four-legged beast, and soon heard her soothing howl. You managed to hide your tears from your travel companions and had them dried before climbing down from your horse, but coming home had never had such meaning, even before.

Standing in the courtyard was your brother and sister, but you got on your knees on the cobblestones to welcome Rose in your arms. She was downright playful even, pawed at your legs to tempt you into coming to play, licking your arms and face. You laughed through it all, your arms loose around her neck, and scratched her ears before standing.

“Always nice to see you prefer her to us,” Jon said with a tired smile. You hugged him next, then Sansa, sharing the wolf slobber and your love for them freely.

“I’m happy to be home,” you told them, and really, you were. So damn happy just to see your siblings still alive, again. Ser Davos passed by with little more than warm regards and a smile for you all, fatigued himself and aching to be in his own bed. You turned to the rest. “Wun Wun, I am grateful to you yet again. You may rest in the tower, if you wish, you are welcome here as long as I live. Pyp, Grenn, we’ve talked about this, and I’ve already written Edd, you’re staying to rest yourselves and your horses a few days.”

Grenn clapped your shoulder amiably. “Yes, m’lady. We are ever at your service.”

You rolled your eyes at his light mockery and snickered. “Don’t keep the whores waiting, then.”

Sharing a few more words with your sweet Sansa, the men and giant dispersed, Jon taking his brothers for a late meal and decent ale.

“How was it, then?” she asked, holding your hands in hers.

You smiled. “It will never cease to be so sad and so funny that I’m the eldest sister, and you dwarf me. Oh, that was an asshole thing to say, right?”

“I would marry Lord Tyrion again in a heartbeat, if it meant never coming here to Ramsay. He was kind. I should have seen that for what it was in King’s Landing. And no one can help that you’re short, sister.”

The two of you hugged again, and you kissed her cheek. “It’s late, dear sweet. You should go and rest.”

She smirked as she turned, still looking over her shoulder at you. “You just want to find the wine and Tormund,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“He’s here?” Your own voice was incredulous. “He’s back from the Gift? Already? How?”

“You were gone for some time, Lady Stark.”

Your heart soared instantly and you could hear he was only a few yards away, behind you. Sansa gave her sweet, soft smirk for being so clever with you and left for her rooms quickly to give you privacy or to save herself from having to bear witness, you did not know.

When you turned to see your Ginger Giant, all the tension left your body, all the pains from such a long journey, and all you could feel was bubbling joy within. You laughed softly as Rose panted and circled around the two of you, still itching to play. “You look bloody naked without all those furs.”

He did, but it suited him so well. He was still so tall, so broad, so handsome, and your knees truly did wobble when he reached you and kissed you long and hard. You expected some raunchy retort or filthy words, but you were met with only more kisses until you could’ve begged to be taken then and there.

“Come with me,” he said when you’d stopped expecting words. You forced your eyes open only to see he was leading you away from your chambers, toward the godswood.

“Tormund,” you whined, “I would be so very in your debt if you could just to take me to bed, fuck me silly, and be there for breakfast in the morning.”

Ahead of you, he gave a raspy laugh, but that was all. When he felt you weren’t moving quickly enough, he’d tug on your arm, and he twice had to shoo Rose away before she made a noise as if offended and went off to hunt.

“I haven’t prayed in years,” you admitted as you stood before the little pond beside the heart tree. You touched the face carved there, tracing its features.

“I didn’t bring you here to pray, She-Wolf.”

You bounced on your feet, eyes curious when you turned back to him. “Why then?”

“Because I’ve had a bit too much to drink. Had a bit too much every night. No man can lie in the godswood, so you will believe me.” He stood over you now, making your heart pound within your chest. Canopied by the thick red leaves above, it felt almost like a secret place that only the two of you knew.

“I don’t think you are a liar, Tormund.”

He shook his head, and you could see the inebriation, a bit. He sat awkwardly on the ground and pulled you down to his lap, also a tad awkwardly. Gazing at each other, it dawned on you just how much you had missed him. You wanted to tell him, but Tormund put his hand on either side of your head and touched your foreheads together. “Shut up. I’m going to say a lot of things and I don’t want you to interrupt me with your big, beautiful mouth. Aye?”

You laughed softly. “Aye, you mad fool.”

“I hate when you say that the world will end. Hate it with all my guts. I know it could be true, but it seems like you don’t have any faith left in you at all, and I hate that. I hate knowing you’ll only stay with me because you think the world will end, so what the fuck does it matter if you’re fucking a wildling and not some buggering Lord? I hate that you convince yourself I’m sort of king so that it’s easier to lower yourself. I hated that you left, and hated you a bit for leaving. Hated that it was so easy, that you wouldn’t let me come. I didn’t fucking go to the fucking Gift. I trailed you, and when I saw it seemed safe, I came back and drank. Haven’t really stopped. Don’t interrupt. I hate you think that I can’t or shouldn’t keep you safe. I hate your fucking moon tea—I want babies. Your babies. Tiny little babies who’ve been kissed by fire, with the green eyes of a Stark—but you’d only give sons to a Lord, like Umber. I hate what you were taught a man is, and I hate that I don’t fit it right, so I’ll never be the man you want. I hate how ignorant you think I am. I hate that you hate goat’s milk.”

You blinked at him, not entirely sure how hurt you should be. Your heart sank to your knees, and the rest of you sank against him. Tears pricked behind your eyes, but damn them. “So, you’ve brought me into the godswood so I would know you really mean how much you hate me?”

Tormund looked bewildered and pawed at his mess of hair until it was far messier. “I don’t hate you. I hate all these things I can’t change because I love you.”

Your eyes snapped shut and your throat quivered. Fight all you wanted, you couldn’t stop bitter salt tears from marching twin tracks down your cheeks. You began to shake your head, little jerks from side to side, and tried to pull away. “You’re just drunk.”

He grunted in frustration and locked his arms around you, almost too tight. “That’s exactly why I brought you to the one fucking place you can’t say that I lied, and you’re still too stubborn to listen. I hate that, too, but I bloody love you, you stupid girl.”

“You can’t,” you whispered.

“Because I’m lowborn? You are better than thinking like all these other empty-headed idiots. You’re my Lady, the only I’ll ever see, because I think you people are fucking mad to be this way. You understand what I’m telling you?” He shook you in his arms. “I love you and I hate that you can’t love me and I hate that I hate it because why shouldn’t I get to give as few shits as you?”

“I don’t give few shits,” you said tremulously. “Tormund, these things you think about me, I could never…I’m just living to be lying by your side.”

“I don’t want that!” He shook you again, complexion growing more ruddy. “I don’t want you to live that way! You should be living for other things, too, like the brother who came back from the dead, your sister who wishes she was dead, the babies I want to put in your belly! I wanted to be what makes you happy!”

“I told you, you make me the happiest.” He had your arms pinned down, so you wiped your tears on his shirt. “I told you I didn’t want to go back there, but it was my duty to Ned. I have said shit about the world ending half a hundred times, but how can you truly think that I wouldn’t still be with you, even if it were a sweet summer and all the horrible things were gone, or never real to begin with? I think you’re the strongest man I’ve ever met, how can you think I don’t believe you could or should protect me? I think you shouldn’t have to, I think it isn’t your problem—”

“That is horse shit,” he growled forcefully.

“I can’t lie here, remember?” You tucked your head under his chin and tried to breathe steady. “You can’t love me, because I’m nothing. I’ve always been nothing, and I let all the ones I love die or suffer terrible things because I’m weak and small and I want you to protect yourself and not die trying to save me. I was fucked by a man who hated your people and willingly became his wife. I stopped flowering—I drank the moon tea, and he found out and beat me bloody for killing his child. I hated wildlings, too, long before. Once upon a time, when the world seemed so lovely, but looking back, I don’t know that it ever was. I look up to you, not down on you. That is who I am. Small and weak and angry and vengeful and I will always do the stupid, wrong thing. You’ve always been free, and you always will be, and you should b-be free, not with me. You’re better than I’ll ever be. You are perfect. You’re so perfect, Tormund. I never…I never meant to make you think those things.”

“It wasn’t his choice, if you had a baby. It’s your choosing. Everything is your choosing.” Tormund leaned back and let you go, head against the bark of the heart tree. “Go.”

“What? No.” You straddled his lap and leaned close to his face again. “I won’t go anywhere without you again, I promised. I swore to you.”

“You heard what I had to say, let me spill my guts on the ground, and then tried to convince me you’re not to be loved. Is that your way of being kind? Is that your goodness or your cruelty?”

“What?”

“You’ll say anything but to leave you be. Tell me you don’t love me, then, and be done with it all. I know you don’t.” He was scowling like you’d never seen, and it was a hot knife in your belly.

You gripped his shirt tight at the collar with both of your small hands, shaking for anger, now. “Is it cruel to not want you to waste it on me? Do you know that you are the only thing I have ever done in my life by my own will and desire? Do you know the truth, Tormund? That it crushes me to think of this war, for it will kill you, and I think my heart will truly perish when I learn that I’ll never see you again. Being with you means throwing aside my duties to my house, and I do it gladly. If I had to leave to keep being yours, I would. I would take up a spear above the Wall, because you are my king and I will follow you. Fuck them all, you are a true man to me, the only man that I choose or will, ever. You are everything wonderful that I’ve never known in my life, and I would know it all if only I could. I would climb the Wall and not stop until I made it to wherever the bloody hells you’re from. I would give this castle, I would give this kingdom if it were mine to give. Can you hear, or did you really drink too much of your revolting goat’s milk? I love you, you fucking Ginger Giant. You stalker. You bear-fucking animal person.”

“Oh for fuck’s—I never fucked a bear, you know I never fucked a bear, I don’t want to talk about the bear I never fucked. I want to talk about babies.”

“Not here,” you whispered through the laughter you shared. Once it began, neither of you could stop, and you wound up splayed together on the hardy grasses. You kissed him when you could breathe again. You wanted to kiss away all the little things he hated until there was room for him to love your more unfortunate qualities. “Take me to bed, aye? Take me there just like this.”

“You may have to be the one who takes me.” Tormund made a face and ground his hand against it. “I’m not tempered to being without you anymore. I’ve been drunk almost the whole time.”

You forced yourself to stand in your dusty riding clothes and held your hand out for him. “What do we do now? What comes next?”

Tormund rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck once he was upright. “I think we’ll sleep. I think I’ll wake up and remember me guts on the ground and what an ass I’ve made of myself, feel like shite, but then I’ll remember that you love me, and my head will quit aching, and I won’t leave you alone until you’re awake, and then I’ll start to nag you about making tiny babies with names the day they’re born, and maybe I’ll tell you about Torwyn.”

“How about this,” you began, supporting him as you walked. “When you win the war and come home to me safely, it’s time for sons.”

When? So it’s when now?” He looked younger instantly, like someone had washed away the lines that had etched so heavy on his face.

“You are right. We could die, but we may also live, and what is life if you do not dream of a future worth living in?” In the dark of the corridor, drunk Tormund was not so quiet as mostly-sober Tormund. You shushed him repeatedly, and were relieved enough to cry when you saw your bed.

Tall-Talker lay atop Tormund’s thicker furs, too warm to wear in Winterfell, which were piled on top of your writing desk. Many of his things were clustered throughout the room, creating a bit of a mess, as your maids were wary of touching his belongings, but the disorder made it feel much more like home.

Once your doors were shut and locked, you exhaled heavily and went to wash your face in the basin. From your polished metal mirror, you saw Tormund struggling with his shirt behind you. You watched for a few moments, feeling both exhausted with him and delighted in his very existence, before turning to assist him. “Tor—yes—Ginger Dear, you have to hold still. Tormund, you’re much bigger than me, I may need a ladder to help you disrobe. Just hold still!”

He grunted and groused while you worked, and eventually he stood with his bare chest and gold-banded arms, swaying just a bit and smirking. He pointed at you, then laughed a bit. “You’re little.”

“Your little Lady, aye.” You tossed his shirt aside and stood back to begin to untie the closures of your own. “Did you really follow me to Last Hearth?”

“O’ course I did. I told you, you weren’t going to go without me. You didn’t have to know that I was there. I had to.” The second your chest was exposed, his hands reached out. Playing with your tits took up much of his attention span. “When you said you would leave, it felt like a cold knife slid down me throat. I slept here most nights, in spite o’ Jon, because…”

“Tormund, please.”

“I’m going to fuck you when you wake up, you know.” He staggered toward the bed and plopped face-down on his side. His next words were too obscured by furs and linen for you to hear, but you were sure it was something cheeky along the lines of his usual ‘cumming buckets’.

By the time you climbed in beside him, he was already snoring. You scoffed and turned him on his side, something you’d found effective before, but your annoyance was chased away by how carefree he looked in slumber. Like a baby, almost. You settled down, nestled in, and felt sleep tug at your arms and legs and the corners of your eyes. You yawned and slipped your hand inside of his. “I do love you,” you whispered, eyes closing.

Jealous?

Pairing: Mick Davies x Reader

Word Count: 1962

Warnings: SMUT.

Notes: I would like to thank my muse, @perseusandmedusa, for this amazing idea. This is to make up for all the feelings I’ve been giving you all recently. I’m very sorry(not sorry). Hope you all like it! xox


“I just don’t understand why she has to be the one to do it!” Mick protested, growling angrily at Ketch as you rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your fairly exposed chest.

“Because, Michael, she has the… assets… needed to reel it in,” Ketch replied calmly, giving you the once over as he smirked.

You felt yourself blush and immediately regretted wearing such revealing clothes. You were to be the bait for the head honcho of a vampire coven. Ketch had insisted you wear something alluring so you’d chosen a black mini skirt and halter top that didn’t really leave much to the imagination.

Mick’s face contorted with rage as he glared at the man. “Well I don’t like it. What if she gets into trouble?”

“Okay, please stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you snapped irately. It was the same every time the three of you had to do a hunt like this. Mick worried too much, Ketch was too breezy and they always talked about you instead of to you; it was getting on your last nerve. “I’m a big girl, Mick. I know what my role is here. Entice the sucker, lead him out here, Ketch does the rest. You’re gonna be in the bar keeping an eye out so what’s the big deal? We’ve never had a problem before, we won’t this time.”

Mick opened his mouth to protest but you lifted a finger, silencing him instantly. Turning on your heel, you shook your head in exasperation as you pushed the door of the bar open, knowing Mick would wait a few minutes before following. You had to keep your head in the game but it was becoming increasingly difficult, especially when all you could think about was him.


Keep reading

Green Eyes

Anon Request: AU!They live. Harry is about 8 y-old and the Potters are at a family outing in the muggle world. they meet the Dursleys and friends. Petunia complained a lot about her whore sister and the wastrel that she married. The Potters were clothed casually, but clearly a lot of money was expended there. They have 6 y-old twins Daisy and Sam (Dearborn-Potter) and Lily is pregnant. 

“What are they doing here?”

Petunia Dursley should’ve known who it was the moment her husband Vernon questioned their arrival with such disparagement.

“I thought you said they were poor, Vernon.”

Vernon’s question almost didn’t register in Petunia’s brain but Shannon Dursley’s suspicious inquiry made Petunia blink out from her reverie. Petunia looked over at her sister-in-law and saw that Shannon’s beady blue eyes were fixated on someone behind Petunia. Petunia placed her cup of lemonade down on the park picnic table and turned to see what Vernon and Shannon were looking at with disdain.

Petunia’s heart dropped when she saw the familiar flash of auburn hair and the perfect white smile.

“That’s your sister Lily, right?” Shannon said to Petunia, “And her husband?”

Petunia’s eyes flashed dangerously.

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mikannie week day 1: High School AU

Title: Bad

Summary: Mikasa has been her school’s token goth and bad girl for years, so when Annie Leonhardt transfers and tries to be the baddest bitch, Mikasa puts up a fight.


“Eren,” Mikasa said, grabbing his collar and pulling him until his brown ear was close to her lips, “who is she?”

“Who, the blonde?” Eren asked, pointing at the short girl in a bun, black jacket, and loose red tie. Mikasa smacked his hand down and hissed, “Yes.”

“Oh. Annie-something. Transferred here from God knows where.”

“I-I-I wouldn’t mess with her, Mikasa,” Armin said. He took a bite of his sandwich and downed it quickly. “Jean told me she set a fire in her last school.”

“Jean’s an idiot!” Eren shouted. The cafeteria got a bit quieter. Mikasa scanned the room for Jean but did not see him, however, she did see the girl, Annie, her cold-grey eyes on her. Her stomach turned into butterflies.

Eren continued, “An upperclassman told me she punched a teacher.”

“I doubt it,” Mikasa said. Her fingers tugged her choker to one side as she observed Annie. The tips of her toes barely touched the floor, and her fingers, legs and face were all thin and frail. “She’s so tiny.”

“Well, k-kids are already a-a-afraid of her.”

Mikasa let go of her choker. This girl could potentially be seen as the baddest girl in school. If she won that title, that would not only be humiliating, but also dangerous to Eren and Armin, seeing as her rep was often the only thing keeping them safe from their idiocy.

Looking back over at Annie, Mikasa saw her chewing a tuna sandwich, looking at nothing in particular. “I suppose I’ll have to see what she can do.”

… … …

When Mikasa first heard the loud, gritty guitar, she thought the lunch lady at the cash register was playing her music again, and just ignored it and took a slice of pizza. She was surprised to find the lunch lady speaker-less, until she turned around, ready to go to her table, and saw Annie Leonhardt at her own.

A small amplifier was plugged into the wall, and plugged into that was a chord leading to a red-and-white guitar. Annie strummed furiously, her left hand switching positions every eight strums. Mikasa recognized it as the chords to My Chemical Romance’s “DESTROYA.” She would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t find Annie biting her lip, chest pulsing to the beat, kind of hot, anther heart skipped when Annie looked up at her, flicked her eyebrows and smirked. But Mikasa forced a scowl and walked off.

As Mikasa made her way to her table across the cafeteria, she heard the chatter of the other tables.

“She’s going to get in so much trouble!”

“You think she cares? She’s crazy.”

“Do you think a teacher’s gonna stop her?”

“Uhh, maybe. Oh, you know. I heard she punched a teacher at her old school.”

“I’d like to see Mikasa Ackerman take her on.”

Mikasa scowled at the last bit she heard. She sat between Armin and Eren with a thud, thinking, ‘I’m going to have to remind them who’s boss.’

… … . .

It seemed that the whole school was gathered around the graffiti, talking and pushing to get a better look. Mikasa knew her separation, sitting on the bench in the schoolyard, was a dead giveaway, but that was part of the display. “They squash personality and cut creativity with axes,” a loud boy said, syllable by syllable, “they teach us fake history but nothing about taxes. Damn, that’s deep.”

Mikasa felt herself tense as Annie came into view. She was carrying her guitar, clad in a black sweater far too big for her, a plaid skirt and her signature bun and red tie. She walked down the sidewalk until she spotted the graffiti and curved into the grass. Mikasa watched her read the graffiti, thinking, 'What do you think now, bad girl?’

“Who would do this?” a high pitched voice that Mikasa recognized as Christa Lenz’s said. Annie looked to her left as Christa said this, her eyes locking with Mikasa’s.

As Annie approached, Mikasa sat up straight and crossed her arms, looking Annie dead in the eye.

“What’s your problem, Ackerman?” Annie said, crossing her arms. “You’ve been acting like a freak since I first met you. Or are you just a freaky goth?”

Mikasa stood up at her full height, which was at least a full half foot taller than Annie. She seemed to notice the height difference, but only lifted her chin in response. She had guts, Mikasa had to admit. “My problem is that you think you can transfer her from some preppy school and claim the title of 'bad girl.’ Well, Leonhardt, I’ve had that title for three goddamn years, and I’m not going to be lose it to some pipsqueak.”

Annie scowled. “You think you, an emo shit-”

“Goth.”

“Goth shit, can be the baddest bitch here? I can kick your ass six ways and sideways. I’m not afraid of bull.”

“Oh really? Then prove it.”

“It’s on.”

The bell rang and Annie and Mikasa lingered, staring at each other like it was a contest. Then Annie turned away and joined the sea of students entering the building, and Mikasa couldn’t help but wonder what she was getting into.

… … …

A growling sound greeted Mikasa as she left English. She looked to her right and saw a blonde on a skateboard. She had to stand on her tip-toes to be sure, but it was Annie. That red tie was unmistakeable.

Idiot, she thought, though she did not stop watching. One slid down on the hall’s floor a few feet in front of her. She jumped over him, and Mikasa’s stomach lifted with Annie’s hovering feet. She and her black skateboard landed with a clap, and the humming continued. Mikasa had to admit, that was kind of awesome, but this show couldn’t go.

As Annie approached, Mikasa lifted her right foot. When she was just a foot or two away, Mikasa stuck her foot out. She winced as the skateboard pinched her big toe, but collected herself with pride as Annie continued forward and fell off.

Students began to laugh as Annie got back on the board. She glared at Mikasa– she couldn’t stand that icy, stabbing look– and whispered, “Asshole.”

Mikasa watched her swerve around her foot and continue to skate down the hall. The laughter slowly faded.

What Annie was doing was cool, but not bad. This would be her advantage– she knew how to break the rules where it mattered most. She’d show her who’s bad yet.

… … …

Annie couldn’t decide whether she was happy or angry that Mikasa was wearing that outfit. She walked into health class just seconds late, wearing a dangerously short black mini skirt, a low-cut black blouse, fishnets that pressed into her thick thighs, and spiky boots, bracelets, and a dog collar. Annie felt her southern regions ache as she took in her curves and lumps, and she had a feeling she wasn’t alone in that sensation.

“Miss Ackerman, that outfit is distracting to me and the rest of the class,” Mr. Shadis said. His lips were pursed and Annie couldn’t tell if he was staring at Mikasa’s boobs or legs. Perv.

“That’s your problem,” Mikasa declared, then walked over to her seat behind Annie. She watched her thighs bounce, then turned to Shadis. He looked frustrated, although for what reason, Annie couldn’t tell.

Mikasa had said that with such a quick, over-casualness, she had to have anticipated that reaction. So she wanted to play dirty? She wanted to really break the rules? Annie could do that.

… … … .

The lockers next to Mr. Zeke Jaeger’s room (Annie’s homeroom, Mikasa had surmised) were graffitied. There was a red A, an orange N, a yellow N, a green I, a blue E, and a sloppy, purple exclamation point. Mikasa stared at them, back against the wall.

'So Annie’s gay,’ Mikasa though. she couldn’t say she was surprised, but her breathing did grow noticeably faster. Goddamnit, she was gonna kill something if she was crushing on this girl.

That aside, this was a wise choice. The teachers would hate this for a number of reasons, the girls would fear her, and the talk about it was already exploding right next to her.

“I told you she was a dyke,” Hitch Dreyse told Marlowe Freudenberg.

“I bet Jaeger will flip,” Jean Kirschstein laughed.

The classroom’s door opened. “Come on in, guys,” Mr. Jaeger said in an exasperated tone.

Mikasa followed Hitch and Marlowe inside. This was not over yet. She had an old, but good trick up her sleeve.

… … … …

Mikasa, as usual, did not take notes during health. She didn’t even take out a notebook. Except this time, she took out an unopened box of thumbtacks. She opened it and took out just one, and Annie watched her play with it for most of class. Her fingers were thick with long, black finger nails, but they expertly twisted the tack and flipped it.

When Shadis left the room to talk to the French teacher, Mikasa dashed out of her chair and towards his desk. Annie heard the thumbtack drop. Someone gasped and others laughed and Annie just watch Mikasa cooly walk back to her seat not even looking at Annie. That was disappointing.

She sat down just as Shadis entered the room, and the class went silent as he made his way to his desk. Annie’s heart stopped as he began to sit, then winced when he yelped.

“Oh, ffffuu….” Someone snorted as he reached around to pull the tack out of his ass. “Alright, who did this?”

Everyone was extremely silent. Annie looked at Mikasa– her arms were folded.

“Really? No one?”

More silence.

“Alright, then, you’re all in detention on Saturday! I swear, you students are atrocious, between this, Miss Ackerman’s blatant disregard for the dress code, and that graffiti yesterday– I know what those colors mean, and it’s disgusting! Don’t–”

Annie tuned out his ramble. so this guy was a homophobe and a pervert. Why, she’d like to-

Suddenly, she had an idea.

… … .

Mikasa knew Annie had something up her sleeve when she sat down at the desk right next to her. She kept an eye on her all through class, and she noticed Annie glancing at her frequently, too. But she wasn’t holding anything out of the ordinary, and was acting normally (aside from watching Shadis intently), so Mikasa was unable to predict her trick.

Meanwhile, Shadis was talking about why abstinence is safest. “….and it is important to wait until you’re very ready. As you all know, sex is between a man and woman–”

“Is it, though?” Annie shouted. Everyone looked at her, including Shadis. Something was about to happen.

Shadis huffed. “What else would it be?”

“Ha. Watch this.”

Mikasa didn’t remember much of what happened next. She saw Annie’s hand reach for her, felt a tug on her pentagram pendant, and then her lips slammed against Annie’s. Her eyes flew shut on instinct.

It was all over. Annie was no doubt, the baddest, most fearless girl in school. But her lips were surprisingly soft, thin and very warm, and Mikasa’s heart and lungs weren’t working, so she kissed back. Their tongues rubbed briefly– it tasted odd, bitter, but beautiful.

When they separated, the entire class was whooping, cheering, clapping and laughing. Shades was scowling so hard his eyebrows threatened to invade his pupils.

“OFFICE! NOW!” he barked. The class continued to roar.

The two girls quickly got up, very cautious to make sure their shoulders weren’t ruling. They walked towards the door.

“I win, by the way,” Annie said as soon as the door shut behind them. They walked down the hall together.

“Congratulations. You’re the worlds biggest rebel, without a cause.

"Well, you could, you know, give me one.”

“What does that mean?”

Annie drew a deep breath, and they turned left. “The poetry you graffitied was pretty good. Do you write a lot of poetry?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. I’m into chicks who write poetry.”

Mikasa’s breathing went shallow, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation, but she cooly said, “Really? Why?”

“I sing their poetry to them while I play. It’s kind of uniting and romantic. Plus, they’re like wise princesses you have to fight for. I’d fight for y–them.”

Mikasa pictured Annie serenading her on the guitar at lunch, then imagined her drawing a sword as Mikasa hid behind her. They were images she was not comfortable, but they made her face flush, and she was a little more okay with Annie being the bad one.

Followup 1 to How Your Costume Shop Works:

@addicted-to-nostalgia​ asks “What about specialized things like beading and embroidery on costumes? Are there people who do specifically that?”

Again, the short answer is: sometimes?

I know when you’re talking about things like Game of Thrones and probably other Really Embroidery Heavy movies/tv shows (and I haven’t worked formally on movies/tv yet, just made the occasional thing on contract but I would bet that their costume shop process is pretty much the same as the one I outlined for theater) they have an Official Embroidery Crew, so in that case yes, stuff does go to a completely different group of folks who specialize in just that.

HOWEVER, honestly, embroidery and beading often take a LOT of time, so it’s rare for a theater costume shop to decide to do a lot of them, because it’s the teams themselves that’ll do it, not a specialized person. More often than not, if you’re beading something it’s just little bits, like adding beaded fringe to a 20′s dress, or adding individual bead/sequins/heat set rhinestones to something for light bounce. This is where prebeaded fabrics (as much as they’re a pain in the ass to work with) make all the difference-the time it takes to crack the beads off and secure the ends through the seams is still less than beading the whole thing from scratch. Not that it *couldn’t* happen from scratch, just that it’s a big time and man hour investment.

As far as embroidery, it’s much the same-it’s another big man-hour investment, and at least with that there are generally other ways for theater to fake that embroidered look, because our audience is usually at least 20 feet away. Trim is used a lot for stuff to look semi-embroidered, I’ve definitely machine-free-arm “embroidered” things before, and honestly, even puff paint or Sharpie judicially used in a big enough house will read as embroidery. In the case of a small theater, yeah, sometimes you have to do it, and that again, usually falls to the person on the team with the most previous knowledge of it. My experience with adding embroidery has been mostly “this needs to look rustic or ethnic” or “we can’t see this so we need to outline it in something.” In the theater, if you’re trying to do a Big Embroidered Game of Thrones Dress, you’ll usually find a pre-embroidered fabric, cut the motifs you want out, and re-build it as a big applique onto the dress itself, like so:

(this is beaded flower fabric with a red mesh that’s been pinned to a Big Fuckoff Red Satin Skirt by our designer and now we have a student stitcher whipstitich that all on-much faster than doing it all by hand)

The order in which you add the embroidery/beading is also dependent on what it is/where it goes too. On Big Red Skirt there, we knew that the beading was going to have to overlap seams, so we put it on last. HOWEVER, it’s a lot easier to do beading/embroidery flat, so frequently we’ll try to do as much applique or embellishment work like this as we can before putting the garment actually together. (this of course also depends on what you’re adding, because a flat faux-embroidery applique is a lot easier to feed through the machine than big beaded flowers like the ones up there. 

Lustful Thoughts (Dick Grayson x plus size reader)

Requested: Fav character x plus size reader gets lost somewhere because reader gets distracted by something cute, and the character gets turned on by the reader and whispers in her ear about what they want to do.. - @honestythehedgehog

AN: I hope you like this, I know it’s kind of short, I’m sorry

Warnings: Smut (kinda) mostly dirty talk, and cursing

-

It was a cool and breezy day, so you decided to go for a walk outside in the woods behind the Wayne Manor. As you walked from the back door to the woods you didn’t notice the person following you.

As you started walking into the woods, the fresh smell of trees and grass hit your nose. You continued to walk through the forest enjoying the calming alone time.

As you passed by a tree, you saw something furry move fast past you. As you walked closer to it you realized it had been a bunny. You bent over to get a better look at the adorable little creature.

As you bent down you didn’t notice the figure watching your every move with lust. Dick watched as you bent over your skirt had pulled up, showing your panties off to him. God you panties looked just as delicious as he imagined them.

The truth was that Dick had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. You two had been friends since you two were young, and he always liked you. But as he reached his horny pubescent teenage years and so on instead of thinking things like what it would feel to kiss you and hold your hand,( which he still did) he started to imagine dirty things about you when he touched himself at night. So this view for him was heaven.

He felt his cock harden at the sight. He imagined all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. Before he knew himself what he was doing he quietly walked up to you. As he reached you he placed his hard on right against your ass.

Surprised by the sensation you jumped a little, making your butt push further into his hard on. He growled at the feeling.

“Mmm keep doing that babe.” As you heard that voice, you know it belonged to the one and only Dick Grayson.

“Dick.” You breathed “what the hell are you doing?”

“I just couldn’t help myself. Your ass is just too perfect.” He pushed himself further into you. He gently grabbed your chubby stomach motioning you to stand up straight. You did and the sensation of his hard dick on your ass make your panties dampen.

“I just want to bent you over and shove my cock deep into you. Having you scream my name over and over again, telling me to go faster.” He groaned as he moved a hand around to the front of your skirt almost touching your panties.

“I want to bury my big cock into you while I spank your perfect ass.” His hand went right over your panties cupping your sex. “You’re so wet babygirl. You’re practically dripping babe. Sensitive little thing aren’t you?” You whimpered.

“Please Dick.” You whimpered out.

“What do you want y/n.” Dick wrapped an arm around your stomach and pushed you further into his chest. “Tell me.” He growled in your ear.

“I-I….” You tried to get something out but you couldn’t register what was happening. Your crush since childhood felt this way about you? You must have been dreaming. Before you could get out anything you heard someone call your name.

“Y/n! Y/n!” You heard the voice who you recognized as Bruce’s. As you and Dick heard that Dick pushed you behind a bush.

“Dick-k.” You whispered “He’ll find us.”

“Not if you don’t keep quiet.” He whispered as he slipped his hand under your skirt again. You let out a whimper as his fingers traced your lips.

“Dick.” You breathed leaning your back into his chest, trying to relax.

“Don’t worry babe no one will find us-” as Dick said that Bruce turned the corner to see you two. As he did Dick quickly pulled his hand out of your skirt making sure Bruce didn’t see.

“There you are y/n, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You nodded your head “I need you to help me plan things for the next bouquet.”

“Ok.” You huffed and began to follow Bruce back into the mansion but before you left Dick, he grabbed your arm pulling you back so your ass was pressed again his hard on.

“We aren’t yet done darling. I’ll be expecting you in my room after dinner.” He breathed in your ear and all you could do was nod, leaving Dick with the biggest smile on your face.

Office Slut

I walked into Ms. Lovato office and set the papers down on her desk. As I was on my way out I ran into her. “Mind watching where you going?” she said. “I’m sorry.” I mumbled. “Do you have the paperwork I asked you for?” she said taking a seat. “Uh… yes. It’s right there on your desk. ” I said pointing to it. Ms. Lovato picked it up and flipped through the papers. “Thank you yn.” She got up from her chair and her heels clicked as she walked over to her door. She closed it slowly and locked the top part of it. “I-I should probably get back to work.” I tried to get past her but she wouldn’t let me. “You don’t have to worry about that. Take care of me first babe. ” She walked closer to me and placed her hand on my back causing my breathing to hitch. “People will hear us though…” “It doesn’t matter. You want to show them how good I’m fucking you anyway. ” Demi pushed me towards the desk and threw all the stuff on the floor. “Strip for me.” I felt my heart start to beat and my hands were sweaty. “I’ve never done that before.” There’s a first for everything right?“ demi replied seductively. I blushed hard and moved my hand towards my shirt. I unbuttoned the white blouse slowly and threw the shirt at her. Ms. Lovato was her sitting on her desk with her legs spread wide open and touching herself through her red thong. I felt my panties instantly become soaked from the sight of her. I placed my hand down my skirt and turned around. I looked behind me and bit my lip. I slowly bent down and stuck my ass out for her. "What are you thinking about Ms. Lovato?” “I’m thinking about fucking your pussy.” I shimmied out of the skirt and tossed it towards her. I took off my panties too and shoved them in her mouth. “who do you think you are?” she yelled. I blushed and became embarrassed. “I’m sorry Ms. Lovato.” “no call me mommy now.” she took my hand and made me sit down on the chair. “have you ever been fucked by a girl yn.” “no… I have a boyfriend.” “I don’t care. your pussy is mine right now slut.” demi reached in her desk and grabbed a 12" dildo. “how big is his dick?” she asked. “around 8 inches.” I blushed. “that’s pretty big. well I’m gonna fuck you 2x as better.” “I’d love to see you try.” I mumbled. “excuse me?” “nothing.” demi bent down and blew on my pussy making me jump from the contact. I ran my fingers through her hair and pushed her more into me. demi took a long lick from my asshole to my pussy. I let out a soft moan and squirmed in the chair. “oh fuck baby.” I murmured. demi slapped my pussy, “I told you to call me mommy you slut.” “im sorry mommy.” I whimpered. demi grabbed my hand and pushed me over the desk. she started massaging my pussy and nibbling on my ear. “you like that?” she whispered in my ear. my jaw dropped open and I nodded my head. demi placed the cock at my lips and shoved it in my mouth. I frowned at her and choked on the cock as she shoved it to the back of my throat. I bobbed up and down and sucked on it, getting it nice and wet. she smirked and instantly shoved it in my pussy without warning. demi spread my ass cheeks with one hand while she fucked me hard with the other. “tell everyone what an office slut you are yn.” I reached out to grab the edge of the desk and I moaned loudly. “Im a slut mommy! I deserve to be punished.” “yeah you do whore.” she said still ramming the cock into me. “it feels so fucking good.” I said backing my ass up on the dildo. “holy shit!” I said still moaning. “God you look so hot right now yn.” I slapped my hands on the desk and cried out her name. “Let everyone know how good your boss is fucking you.” “Oh fuck! You are demi!!” I was on the verge of cumming and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I released on the dildo and my legs were still shaking. She slapped my ass and there was a red handprint left on my ass. “You should get back to work.” Demi said smirking. “But I didn’t make you cum.” “Then that means you can come back later.”


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