Imagine Being The First Amish Bitch In Your Village To Like Get Your Body Done Like Ass Shots Titties

imagine being the first amish bitch in your village to like get your body done like ass shots titties done and like beat face contoured… and then you walked into like the saloon or whatever amish people have and everyone dropped their irish fiddles and was shookedt? like everyone churning butter was just in shock and you walked across the artisanal wood floors in your wantmylook.com thigh high lace up heeled boots like your life depended on it… yes god

Seven-Thirty, Part I: Saturday

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You were planning on a productive – if lonely – weekend, but the little girl across the hall has different ideas about how you and Bucky Barnes should be spending your time.

Word Count: 5206 words (this is part one of three)

Warning(s): A tiny use of mild language. 

Author’s Note(s): This was written for @propertyofpoeandbucky‘s 2nd Mysterious Writing Challenge. My prompt was “Babysitter AU.”

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Saturday

There’s a moment, on Friday afternoons, when the world seems to melt away. In the closing of your apartment door, the careful sliding of one, two, three locks (this is New York, after all). And then begins the ritual, a slow unfurling of self from the layers of the week’s disguise: a blazer draped carelessly on the couch; bags flung in the general direction of your desk; the crisp sigh of a can of cheap beer. 

You come back to yourself on the couch, something dramatic on Netflix playing in the background. A period of calm is claimed in the easy, anonymous scroll of your phone. In those moments, it doesn’t matter that you’re alone, that everyone was too busy to make plans and that the people you love are slowly outgrowing the throbbing pulse of a nightclub, the frenetic enjoyment of one more drink, one more dance. They turn instead to the lure of more adult rites: mortgages and engagement rings and diapers. Carefully planned vacations, instead of haphazard road-trips. 

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Coming Soon: In the Dark

Warnings: Language

Words: 500

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: You only thought Ransom was an asshole, wait until you meet his family. Sequel to My Oh My & Trouble

Song: In the Dark by Camila Cabello

Thank you @hysteria87​ and @sagechanoafterdark​ for supporting me with this annoyingly lovable asshole.

*Spoiler free: no movie connections whatsoever.

I can see you’re scared of your emotions, I can see you’re hoping, you’re not hopeless.

“No.”

Your answer is quick, and Ransom flicks his eyes up at you over the top of his laptop screen, watching as you shake your head adamantly.

“Hell no.”

“Why not?” he questions, obviously annoyed by your quick response.

For the last two weeks your free time has been filled with his smug, arrogant ass. You’ve been fielding question after question on Steve’s life and maybe it’s selfish, but you just want a weekend to yourself.

You keep your attention on the towels your folding. They’re still warm – fresh from the dryer. “I – I have a date.”

“Since when?” he’s not convinced.

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Trouble

Warnings: Language, Murder, Smut-ish

Words: 2.7k

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Summary: Maybe the narcissistic playboy is smarter than most people give him credit for. Sequel to My Oh My

Song: Trouble by Halsey

*Spoiler free: no movie connections whatsoever.

Would you bleed for me?

Lick it off my lips like you needed me?

The bar is cozy – intimate – in your opinion for an east side dive.

You’ve been listening to this guy for the last hour and a half and it’s obvious by now he’s not connected to Fisk. Parker owes you lunch for sending you after this lead. You regret flirting in the beginning, because now he’s giving you the look.

Men.

The ringing of his cell phone is a saving grace and he excuses himself to take the call. Giving you a few moments to develop an exit strategy. Ducking out the back door is your first instinct.

“Hi,” the voice in your ear sends an icy chill down your spine, regardless of his hot breath against your neck. Your mind races with questions as he leans against the bar, cool gaze staring into you.

What is he doing here? The sound of his voice returning you to that night.

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Beautiful and Damned 1- The First Sight [Geralt of Rivia x Reader]

A.N: Your wonderful feedback to the preview made me so happy my loves, thank you! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think of this chapter, kisses! 

Reminder: This story will not follow the show’s plot, so even if you haven’t watched the series, you can still read it.

Summary: It’s a bad idea to sneak up on a witcher.

Word Count: 1992

Warnings: None.

You could still remember the fairytales you listened to so closely when you were still a child. The ones with pretty princesses, and scary monsters, a brave, very brave knights that would save the princesses from fearsome beasts.

“There was a princess, just like you,” your nurse would say, “Her mother the queen-“

“Like my mother?”

“Exactly like your mother, my sweet,” she would say, “She loved her so, so much….”

Every night, before you went to sleep, you wished for an adventure like that. A love like that, something that would place you right in the same place as those princesses. You had the title, you had the life, but in your future, you wanted something exactly like those fairytales.

No one told you that you would get it.

But again, no one told you that you weren’t supposed to wish really hard for something when you were a child either.

What happened later on was exactly like the beginning of a fairytale, because after all, every fairytale had to begin with a tragedy.

It was your tenth birthday banquet, when a witch with multiple beasts by her side cursed you, and at first, you didn’t even believe it until you took an apple from your cousin, accidentally brushing your fingers over his skin.

He was dead right that second, his lifeless body dropping to the ground much like the apple from your hands, the scream leaving your lips almost inhuman.

Then they locked you away.

Well, not really. You were still allowed to walk around the specific parts of the castle, with the condition of wearing your long gloves, and not letting anyone touch your skin.

Not that you could really hide it if they did, not after that knight brushing a finger over your cheek, and dropping dead in a second just like the others. In time, the story of you became a legend, and legends became gossips. You were called many names by the time you grew up; daughter of darkness they called you, grim’s princess, kiss of death….

“Your majesty?” your maid Cassandra’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked up from your drawing, and put the small piece of coal beside you, grabbing your gloves just in case.

“Yes?”  

“Your mother sends for you.”

“Oh.” You wiped at your hands carefully, then put on your gloves, “What for?”

“She said I was to take you to her room,” she stood on her tiptoes to peek at the parchment, “Oh that’s gorgeous, your majesty.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from smiling wide, “You really think so?”

“Oh definitely,” she looked up at you, “Will you gift me one after you’ve finished?”

“You’re the only person who gets to see them, so why not?” you winked at her, “If you find it to your liking, that is.”

“If you weren’t a princess, I say you would be an artist.”

“Don’t let mother hear that,” you murmured, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of it, then got up from your bed to walk to your full length mirror. You smoothed out the skirts of your dress, putting the crown on top of your hair and twirled around to check whether you looked your best, since you knew what sort of speech your mother would give you if she saw any kind of flaw in your appearance.

Cassandra stepped aside instantly as you approached the door, and walked right behind you as soon as you stepped into the hall. You flexed your fingers nervously under the leather gloves, avoiding everyone’s gaze in the hall and trying to ignore the way they all scurried away. It was supposed to be your normal after years and years, but it never failed to send a small surge of icy feeling through your spine.

You wondered whether they knew how lucky they were, to be able to simply touch someone even innocently, and not have them die in seconds right before their eyes.

Probably not. You hadn’t thought about it before you were cursed either.

You had gotten better at pushing that burning jealousy to the back of your mind, though. It was still there, you knew it was, and it got worse each time you saw a happy couple that could kiss each other, or touch each other. You could even hear maids’ whispers about their beloveds, all secretive and scandalous, but-

You did wonder how it would feel. Judging by their whispers, it had to be pure bliss.

The pure bliss that you could only dream of.

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too late - part two

Request: For the Anon who requested a fic with the reader and Diego were best-friends growing up but left with Five to the future and when they come doesn’t know what to do

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: A fight at the local donut shop leads to a new problem on Five and the readers mission to stop the apocalypses.

Warnings: Blood, injuries and death

A/N: *says am on hiatus but then decides to continue updating?* Sorry for randomly leaving without a heads up but here’s another update and part two to my series. If you have any ideas for this series then please feel free to say so in my requests and I’ll give credit when due. Also I know this sin’t exactly how the donut shop fight scene went but I decided to change it up a little, hope you guys like it and the pov also changes to third person when it switches to Vanya’s apartment btw.

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