Creek

She’s a patron saint of rape and abuse victims

She took a vow a chastity

A low born guy demanded her to be with him and she turned him down

For this she was imprisoned and tortured. This is how she lost her breasts (details not required)

She was repeatedly raped.

The Catholic Church regards her as a virgin for her peity despite the rape. (No matter your views on virginity this is a pretty interesting statement)

She was sentenced to death to burn at the stake but was saved by an earthquake

In her holiday people make titty cupcakes

People didn’t always know the stories behind all the saints. There are a lot after all. And even a talented artist is going to struggle to convey that the pale tan lumps on a plate are, ya know, not little bread rolls or cakes or whatever.

Request:  Imagine using an Ouija board with the Legends

You knew it was ridiculous, hell, you certainly didn’t believe it to be real, but no matter the thoughts to the contrary, a small part of you couldn’t help but look forward to the Halloween tradition you had started all those years ago. 

Getting the rest of the team on board, however, that was another matter altogether. Ray and Sara had been happy to join in, never one to shy away from a new experience. Somehow Sara had convinced Kendra and Leonard to join in too, with a reluctant Mick standing in the background, attempting to look disinterested as he watched on curiously with Jax practically chopping at the bit next to him. But most surprising of all was the one person you had expected to join Martin anywhere but in the heat of the action, Rip Hunter.

Really he was ASKING for it

This guy was BEGGING to get smashed in the head with a baseball bat

Synopsis : Batman has a reputation of always being impassive. Of being very in control of his emotions. But of course, you being his wife, you know his secrets and weak spots… And apparently, sending him dirty texts while you guys are in public definitely works very well to fluster him /Drabble-Minific.

You know that Tik Tok trend where people send a dirty text to their s/o while they’re in public ? I don’t know why I find it so funny and all, but today during my lunch break I was scrolling through the app and fell on a few of those and…boom. This story was born haha. Written in half an hour while I was eating pasta, I hope you’ll like it nonetheless :

TW : SLIGHTLY Nsfw. I mean. The subject itself is “dirty texts” so ya know haha. No actual texts will be shown, but insinuation will. 

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

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Not amused. 

One. Two. Three. Fo-

Here it goes. 

He hears the little “beep” of his phone, notifying him that he just received a text.

Not any text though. 

A text from a family member. It was a very specific “beep”, for when one of his kids, you, or Alfred were sending him a text. 

You’re a little disappointed he changed the alert sound back to that boring “beep” it has always been.

You rather liked, when Jason pranked him and instead put a recording of himself saying “dingityding motherfucker, ya got a message from one of us”. 

It wasn’t very tasteful for sure, and yeah, you probably shouldn’t’ve found it so funny…But solely for the face your husband and the people he was talking to made, it was all worth it. 

So what if you were nodding along to Bruce’s sermon as he was scolding your son, while simultaneously, when your husband wasn’t looking, giving two thumbs up to Jason ? 

Anyway. Here was the family “beep”. And here it goes.

A smile to the people he was talking to meaning : “Apologies, I have to take this.” as he takes his phone out of his pocket. 

Not that it surprised anyone. He was Bruce Wayne, a busy billionaire who owned multiple enterprises and who was constantly on the move to something new. His phone ringing wasn’t exactly something special. 

Him answering during a conversation wasn’t either. 

Not only did he have the reputation of being a rather busy bee, but he was also  known as quite a protective father. His children were not present at the gala that night, meaning any calls or texts could be an emergency from them. 

Of course, nobody even suspected himbo Bruce Wayne to be the scary Batman, so no one could quite understand how worried Bruce could get about his kids. Yet Bruce Wayne has been a family man long enough by then for everyone to know he was a “doting father”. 

The fact he always protected them from too much media coverage, or how angry he would get when someone would be a little too chummy with them purely by interest…

You always found it sweet. 

That he cared so much about his family that even those not knowing him at all, even those only seeing his “Brucie Wayne” persona (minus the Playboy side he gave up long ago when deciding to make it official with you) noticed.

Of course, you knew he wasn’t always the perfect father. Or husband. But the fact he always tried so hard, and no matter what, always cared so much (maybe even too much ?) made everything worth it. 

Ah, but today wasn’t about how sometimes, it was a little difficult to be Batman’s wife. 

Today, it was about how fun it could actually be. 

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor/Reader

Summary: You discover the Doctor’s ~quirky~ habit of ripping out the last page of every book. The Ponds discover an intimate moment they’d rather forget. 

Warning(s): None, lil bit of sexiness, nothing too hotnheavy

“It’s hard to explain how it feels, being in here,” you said, leaning against a desk, weight on your palms. The TARDIS library, with its levels and levels of shelves,  engulfed you. You’d been working your way through it with the Doctor, learning the names of different galaxies, literary periods, and famous authors. You’d decided to start with the shelf closest to the doors and were now about three shelves over. “It’s sort of like being with you, actually.” The Doctor looked up from a purple book with a holographic cover. He gave you a teasing grin, hair falling into his face. “Not your best comparison, considering you are with me.” His eyebrows rose. “Unless this is one of those times ‘being with’ gets fuzzy. So many possible meanings with you.” You kicked him with the toe of your sneaker. “Oh, I do love it when you talk dirty with me. But that’s not what I meant.” “You need some sort of signal.” The Doctor’s mouth scrunched up. He dropped the book onto the desk to have free reign with his hands as he talked. “Wave your arms, ‘look, I’m flirting,’ something simple. Start every sentence that’s meant to be seductive with that, we’ll never go wrong.” “I meant,” you interrupted, grinning in spite of yourself, “that it’s sort of overwhelming.” He perked up. “Oh, no, I do like where this is going.” “It’s enormous,” you continued, set on finishing your explanation. “And there’s so much of everything at once, but it’s sort of like home at the same time. Is that too cheesy?” “No.” The Doctor’s smile broadened. “Well, yes, actually. But I enjoyed it immensely. To summarize,” He tucked his book back onto its shelf, then did an odd little spin with one arm lifted, which you assumed was supposed to be an expression of his brand of ‘come-hither’ allure. You tried very hard not to snort. “You think I’m awe-inspiring. Like my library.” “And full of yourself too, the metaphor’s pretty versatile.” “Yes, full of knowledge. And adventure.” “And really, really, really,” your voice softened, and you took a step toward him. The Doctor leaned forward, swallowing. Your mouth made it all the way to his cheek before it broke into a grin. “Old.” He drew back, eyes narrowed toward the ceiling. “See, you didn’t wave your arms. Should have known where that was going.” “At least I didn’t snap your suspenders with the punchline.” “Small mercies today, I suppose.” You laughed, which made it too hard for him to keep up his pretend sulk. Picking up a grey book and ignoring how squishy its cover was, you flipped it open. “So, this one. Mee-yar-nock Schin-dray-eg?” “Mjarneuk Zhindrayejh.” “Mm, almost had it that time.” “Wardian novelist from the Orion nebula. Guaranteed to make you cry. Or at least sneeze.” “Hang on,” you said, looking over the first few pages. “This doesn’t make any sense. The TARDIS is translating properly, it’s in English—” The Doctor looked up from a new book he’d grabbed randomly. “Oh, Wardon writes right to left. You’re at the end of the book.” “…It still doesn’t make sense. Even if it’s the back, it breaks off mid-sentence and… oh, it’s torn. There are bits of paper still tucked into the binding. Oh, Doctor, I’m sorry—it’s ruined.” “That? Never mind that.” The Doctor shrugged, turning back to his book. “I tore it out.” “You what?” “Tore it out,” he repeated, voice drifting as he started to pay more attention to the illustration in his book. “I tear all of them out, the last pages. That way the story never has to end.” He turned his book to face you. “Look at this drawing of a Morrulpoid hermit. They’ve completely forgotten two of its forelegs, but what a smile.” An odd sucking noise clogged your throat, and the Doctor panicked for a moment, wondering if humans could choke on regular old air, and he’d just forgotten. “What?” he asked, eyes widening. “You just ripped them out? On purpose?” “Yes, just said that. Back to the funny illustration. You’d think that if they’d studied a Morrulpoid long enough to get a precise count of its teeth, they’d have noticed that they’d missed two whole legs—“ The spongy grey book in your hands connected with the Doctor’s arm, and he yelped, rubbing his elbow. “What was that for?” “All of these books? Biggest library I’ve ever seen, and you’ve hurt every single book in it!” “Says the woman beating me with the only surviving copy of Zhindrayejh’s best fiction!” the Doctor protested, trying to shield himself. You paused in your assault, mouth falling open. “It’s the last copy? And you ripped out its last page?” “So that its story never really ends—ow!” “You vandalized thousands of books based on a quirky sentiment?” The Doctor struggled for the book as you whopped him with it on the shoulder. “It’s poetic!” he cried. “Shouldn’t you be trying to—analyze—what this says—stop hitting me, Y/N!—about my inability to—let go—or something?” You let loose something like a growl, trying to wrestle the book you’d weaponized from the Doctor’s grip. “You can be so overdramatic, I swear—“ The Doctor grunted. Your anger made you stronger than you looked. “Again, look who’s hitting whom here—“ The two of you let out twin squeaks as your fight caused you to topple over the side of the leather reading sofa nearby. The Doctor landed on top of you, causing half the air to woosh out of your body. He winced. “Ah, sorry, that’s your squashed face.” “Yeah, well spotted,” you huffed out. The Doctor scanned your face for a moment, a smile beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. You frowned. “If you make me say get off when it should be self-explanatory, I’ll have to stop both of your hearts.” The Doctor’s smile turned into that dorky little smirk that warned you to brace yourself, and he waggled his head. “You already have, dear.” You tried to stifle a laugh and still look angry. “That was absolutely awful. What are you doing with your neck?” “Well,” he lifted himself so that his weight was supported by his forearms, with you still pinned beneath him on the sofa, “I don’t exactly have free hands to wave around.” “You’re trying to seduce me?” The Doctor grinned, lowering his head so that his nose brushed yours. His voice lowered. “Is it working?” “No. I’m still cross,” you mumbled. His nose grazed over the side of your face until he was nuzzling your cheek. You could hear your voice getting airier, and it was incredibly frustrating. “There are so many books, and—and—“ “I can tell you the endings, later,” he murmured, breath hot on your neck. “I’ve got a great memory, can’t get them out of my head, even after they’re ripped. Later.” “I—“ “First, I think we should return to that question about ‘being with.’ Still seems a bit vague.” “Well, I suppose that today was supposed to be about being thorough…” “No signal needed for that one, darling.” *****

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader Word Count: 1.8k T/W: FLUFF A/N: Happy Spernatural Day! (Everybody’s kinda in here!)

“I’m serious you guys,” you furrowed your eyebrows, standing at the bottom of the stairs, “be careful.”

“Don’t worry we’ll be just fine,” Sam said with a smile, placing a hand on your shoulder and kissing your cheek, “it’s really not that dangerous.” 

“Are supermarkets known to be very dangerous places?” Jack asked confused, following Sam’s motion to kiss your cheek and then heading up the bunker’s stairs to the exit.

“No,” Cas commented, third in the line, “it’s just Y/n’s over protective motherly instinct to ask us to be careful on all outings.” 

Dean quietly chuckled to himself as he watched the scene play out in front of him, from the table he was at. You were so short compared to everyone that it was always funny when you decided to take charge and truly try to enforce it. He watched you cross your arms and attempt to hide the prying smile on your lips.

“Okay, mister,” you tilted your head at Cas.

“We will be fine, I promise,” Cas tilted his head with a faint smile, before heading up the stairs.

Thank you for sending me this prompt! No, but seriously…Thank you.

OH MY GOD, I did not realize how obsessed I am with his hair-color changing until I started writing this! Well, guilty as charged. I find it hot as hell. I have absolutely no logical explanation as to why that is, but... there you have it. 

So...yeah. Just so you guys know, this prompt is going to be divided into multiple parts. 

(..at least, if you like it enough!)

Gettin’ a lil spicy...Here we go! 👏🏻💕💚

DISCOVERING BEETLEJUICE’S HAIR COLORS - Part 1

GREEN & PINK BEEJ

(Beej x Reader)

You knew pretty much from the start that green was Beej’s primary hair color. And honestly, you loved it from the first moment. Green hair would look so weird on anybody else, but on him? It somehow seemed perfect for him. It almost seemed like a part of his personality.

But in fact, even the green changed shades at times. You’d begun to notice it almost by accident. You’d discovered that his locks shone a more emerald green when he was feeling playful, and turned a darker shade when he was scheming something or whenever he was feeling mischievous.

You had been paying particular attention to his hair since you’d started getting closer to him. And truthfully, pretty soon you’d found yourself becoming slightly obsessed with it. The way he slicked it back in a tall, fluffy looking green tuft. The way it stood out against his pale complexion and greenish brown eyes. The way it felt soft, so incredibly soft when you ran your fingers through it - oh, yes. And what a glorious day it had been when you’d discovered that was one of his weak spots. You’d almost started to believe he didn’t have any, and damn…for once, you were very pleasantly surprised to find out you were wrong. Of course, you’d discovered it almost by accident…

It was a rainy Saturday night and you had absolutely nothing to do. Work had been exhausting all week, and all you were looking forward to was having a calm, peaceful weekend wrapped up in comfy clothes and binging on junk food and bad reality shows. You’d told Beej to come over, of course. Lately, the two of you had been spending more and more time together. In fact, it seemed like you barely did anything separated these days… At least when you weren’t busy at work or out with friends since, you know, in that case bringing a ghost along probably wasn’t the greatest idea. Maybe it was odd, you wanting to spend so much time with him. But then again, you weren’t exactly known for your exceptional social skills. You liked having him around. He didn’t make you feel nervous or awkward like almost everyone else did. Plus, he always made you laugh. Even when he exaggerated, with his absurd sense of humor and dirty jokes, he was fun.

So there you were, the two of you laying on your couch after dinner as you absentmindedly flipped through the channels and he lounged besides you. His body was sprawled across the couch, his feet propped up on the cushions and his head laying on your lap. His black and white striped jacket had been tossed to the side on a nearby chair. He had rolled up his sleeves and loosened his green tie. He was staring at the ceiling, arms crossed lazily across his chest as he rolled his thumbs mindlessly and seemed to be lost in thought. Suddenly, you sigh deeply. He turned his face towards you.

“What was that, babes?” “I was just thinking…” you mumbled, pouting slightly. “About me?” He suggested, raising an eyebrow. “About…what I want for dinner,” you replied, unfazed by his terrible attempt at flirting. “Wow.” “What?” “Babes, you…” he looked at you intently, shaking his head slightly, and for a very weird moment you wondered what he was about to say. Of course, he didn’t disappoint. “…You never stop thinking about food, do you?”

You scoffed, “Yeah, and you never stop thinking it’s always about you, do you?” He merely shrugged. “Hey, not my fault if I’m a gorgeous piece of man candy, babes.” “The unfathomable size of your ego never fails to astound me,” you comment, rolling your eyes and realizing a split second later how easily you’d just served him his next tacky sex joke. And sure enough… “Oh, the size of my ego is definitely unfathomable, baby…” he purred, stretching his back lazily and purposefully dragging his head against your legs as he did so. “You should see for yourse-” You smacked his chest, frowning. “Knock it off, you weirdo!”

He grinned at you, and you noticed his hair glow with an emerald shine. He was playing with you, as always. And he was enjoying himself, as always. You smiled back at him, shaking your head and bopping his nose affectionately. His hair shone even brighter and his smile widened. You felt a strange tug at your stomach. Hmm. That was weird. You broke eye contact and switched channel. Seeing what was on, you tapped his chest again and beckoned towards the tv with your head. “Hey look…it’s that awful ghost hunters reality show you love to hate.” “Uuuh, those guys are the worst!”

He turned around excitedly, shifting his body and settling down to watch the show. He nestled his head on your lap, mindlessly rubbing his cheek against your thighs. Once again, you felt a tug at your stomach. You involuntarily tensed a little bit, but forced yourself to look at the tv screen. What was the matter with you today, anyway? Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you tried to follow the show, but your eyes kept wandering back down to stare at Beej’s head. Weird thoughts were starting to form in your mind. Every time he laughed at the ghost hunters - which happened quite frequently - you could feel his stubble graze your skin and his hair brush against your arm. And every time that happened, a delightfully sharp shiver would shoot straight up across your spine. You started feeling slightly dizzy. You blamed it on the beer you’d had with your dinner, but you weren’t quite sure it was just that. The situation was very rapidly becoming awkward for you, but there was nothing you could do. You couldn’t randomly push him away, it would be worse. Right then, after one particular hearty laugh, Beej playfully smacked his hand on your thigh. Then, he squeezed your knee lightly, leaving his hand there and casually stroking his thumb across your skin. That was it.

You had to do something - anything - to distract yourself. Immediately. You looked left and right, looking for an excuse to get up, but to no avail. Panicking, you looked back down and instinctively did the only thing that came to mind. With one swooping movement, you buried your hand into his hair. Immediately, you marveled at how unimaginably soft it was. You gently stroked your fingers through his green locks. It felt like dipping your hand in a barrel of cotton. You gasped under your breath, but it wasn’t your own reaction that surprised you.

“Hey babes, did you see that asshole fall down the stairs? Hahah- Oh. OHhh.” You felt him freeze like a statue beneath your touch. You stopped. For a second, you worried you’d done the wrong thing. “S-sorry, Beej, I was just… Does it bother you…?” “Oh babes…” he murmured, arching his back, “Abso-fucking-lutely not!” You frowned. Hmm. Well…That was unexpected. Tentatively, you raked your fingers through his hair again, this time digging a bit deeper until your fingertips grazed his scalp. The feeling of his luscious locks was incredible. You couldn’t help but smile as you scrunched your fingers, delicately dragging your nails across his skin. As soon as you did so, he hissed, raising his shoulders. Again you stopped. “Oops, was that too-?” “No,no,no…oh, baaabes,”  he all but purred, stretching his neck, “Don’t stop…please?”

Wow. Now, you were really intrigued. You’d never, ever heard him plea for anything…ever. Suddenly it hit you. Was this…was this his weakness? Hair touching? Seriously? Raising an eyebrow, you started moving your fingers again. This time you moved them more boldly, drawing circles and massaging his scalp. Sure enough. You felt Beej turn to jelly beneath your touch: his shoulders dropped and he craned his neck to give you better access, wriggling to crawl closer to you. When you started scratching him, he actually moaned out loud. “Babes…!” You almost chuckled, realizing that you were turning this oh-so-terrifying demon into a puppy dog just because you were touching his hair. Who would’ve known this - of all things! - was his weak spot?! The program blared on the TV, but neither of you were paying particular attention to it now. You grinned to yourself. This could be fun, you thought…Not quite thinking about what you were really getting yourself into. You propped yourself up a little more, then suddenly dived both hands in his emerald locks. He all but gasped. You playfully started teasing him, vigorously scratching his scalp and raking both hands through his tuft. You massaged him, pressing your fingertips on his skin. You actually found the gesture quite…intriguing. Soothing, pleasing…almost exciting, in a way. In fact, you were really getting into it…maybe a little too much. Suddenly, you felt your hand get tangled, and you instinctively closed your fingers, accidentally pulling on a fistful of hair.

“Oh…sorry!” You exclaimed. But Beej barely flinched for a moment… Then, he relaxed his shoulders. For a few seconds, he stood very still. You were just about to repeat that you were sorry, when he turned his head and looked at you. And this time, when his eyes locked with yours your breath caught in your throat. His hair, you noticed, had morphed to a deep, luscious dark green. His eyes reflected the same color, and sparkled with mischief. He took a very deep breath. You froze, waiting for him to speak. “…Do that again.”

His voice was deep and gravelly. Something in the way he said it made the jolt in your stomach suddenly drop lower - much, much lower, all the way down your pelvic area. You forced yourself to take a breath, suppressing a shudder. “Babes,” he repeated, with the same gruff voice, “…do it again.” It sounded more like a command than a request.

Your eyes remained glued to his magnetic stare as your reached forward and dived your hand once again in his locks. This time, however, he kept his eyes on you, even though you lowered your gaze. For a moment, you only dared to soothingly stroke his hair as you tried to gather your thoughts. His patience, however, seemed to draw short. “Baby…do it…” he edged you on. His voice sounded demanding. You took another deep breath. Then, you plucked up the courage and suddenly decided to throw caution to the wind. Ignoring the embarrassment threatening to pull you back, you locked eyes with him again and smiled, mischievously biting your lower lip. Then, with a fluid movement you sunk both hands back in his green locks and, grabbing two fistfuls of hair, you pulled experimentally. You were rewarded with another moan as he closed his eyes and dropped his head back. Ah-ha! you thought, triumphantly. So the weak spot isn’t hair touching…it’s hair pulling. Good to know. You grinned to yourself. Feeling encouraged by his reaction, you carried on with your ministrations. This time, you dared to go a little further still, slowly dragging your hand across his scalp before grabbing as much hair as possible and tugging it towards you. He sigh deeply, and you repeated the action. “Well well well,” you teased him playfully, “Looks like I’ve found your soft spot, Beej…”

He groaned. Clearly, he didn’t like to hear that. “What’s the matter, baby?” You said in a mocking baby voice, continuing to alternate between massaging his head and pulling his hair, “Does mistah Beebleboose like it when I touch his hair?” The silly nickname you’d both come up with, which you usually used to make fun of him, suddenly sounded much less innocent and much more provocative. But somehow, you didn’t care. “Babes…” he said in a warning tone, “You should be caref-” he cut himself off when you gave a particularly strong tug, suppressing a groan. You gave a little chuckle. “Uuuh, looks like you like it a little rough,” you teased. He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath and giving you a meaningful look. “Babes… I’d watch it, if I were you…” But by now, you were too caught up in the game to pull back. Grinning, you bopped his nose again, tugging at his hair once more. He closed his eyes for a moment and you smiled victoriously, thinking you’d found a way to have him wrapped around your finger. “Why?” You edged him on uncaringly, leaning closer still to his face, giving yet another little pull, “What are you gonna do about it-” You never got the chance to hear an actual answer because suddenly, he snapped.

It happened in a flash. You blinked, and somehow he had flipped the two of you over. He was now on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress with his weight. You barely had time to catch your breath. Everything seemed to be happening in a sudden haze. You weren’t quite sure what was going on, but you could feel his mouth planting a trail of kisses on your neck and collarbone. His hands roamed down your sides, gripping your waist. Oh…OH.

Now how did this come along? You rolled your head back, your mouth hanging open. The feel of his lips on your skin was sending a wave of iced fire coursing through your veins. “B-Beetlejuice, what are you doi-?” you tried to ask, but he silenced you by biting down on a particularly sensitive spot. You gave a small gasp. What the hell was going on? You had no idea what you were doing… but you knew that you loved it immensely. “Babes,” he murmured against your skin, “Just don’t stop…” You knew exactly what he was referring to. And truthfully, as long as he didn’t stop… well, you were more than willing to oblige. And in that exact moment, you decided to stop asking yourself questions and start doing exactly what you both wanted.

You boldly wrapped your arms around him, burying your hands in his hair and reprising your caresses. With each tug, you felt him whimper softly as he continued showering you with kisses and little bites. You let out a deep breath, closing your eyes and losing yourself as you felt him drag his teeth across your collarbone. You responded by grabbing the hair at the base of his neck and pulling, painfully slowly. He hissed again, biting down on your neck and sucking your skin. You arched your back and gasped loudly. You parted your legs, almost unknowingly, and he settled between them. He grabbed your waist and pulled you even closer to him, grinding himself against you. You gave a particularly sharp tug to his locks, his name bursting from your lips again. For a moment he stopped, lifting himself up slightly and raising an eyebrow at you. “Careful with that, babes…” he warned, “One more time and we finish this before we even get to the good part…” he winked at you meaningfully.

Your mouth almost dropped open. Before we even get to the good part? The little devil was barely kissing your neck and he had you panting for air with your head spinning in another galaxy altogether, what the hell were you gonna do when he did anything more? But you couldn’t let him win this easily, could you? Forcedly recomposing yourself - as best as you could, at least - you smiled knowingly at him, propping yourself up on your forearms so close to him that your noses were almost touching. “Well then… looks like you’ll have to shut me up before I say it again.” He flashed a wolfish grin at you, leaning his forehead on yours before whispering, “With pleasure, babes.” And just like that, he kissed you. You closed your eyes, allowing him to take the lead. You fell back down on the cushions, grinning happily as you pulled him down with you. He deepened the kiss, his hands now caressing up and down your ribcage. You sunk your hands yet again in his hair, returning the kiss with equal fervor. You felt him hum contentedly, interrupting the kiss with little gasps whenever you tugged a particularly sensitive spot. Things were getting rather heated when you accidentally opened your eyes and noticed something that made you stop. He felt you freeze beneath him and pulled back, looking questioningly at you. He seemed worried, almost.

“What’s wrong, babes…?” “Beej,” you frowned, unsure if you were imagining things, “Why is…Why is your hair…pink?” “Huh?” “Your…hair,” you repeated, staring pointedly at his head. Sure enough, strands of pink were rapidly appearing amongst the emerald green. “I’ve never seen it….pink, before.” You’d seen his hair turn blue, violet, red even…but pink? Never. Suddenly, he seemed very, very embarrassed.

“Uh…Oh. Oh.” he mumbled, “Babes, it’s nothing, I mean…it’s pink, you say? You sure?” He looked upward as if he could see his own hair. “Uh, well, see, the thing is….” Suddenly a thought struck you. As he continued fumbling for an excuse, you silently leaned forward, still eyeing his hair, and cut him off by kissing him. After a few seconds, you opened your eyes and pulled away. Just like you thought, another strand of bright pink had appeared before your eyes. Wanting to be absolutely sure, you decided to try one last thing. Craning your head, you started kissing his neck. As soon as your lips touched his skin, you felt him quiver. Still, you didn’t lose focus and kept kissing him experimentally, running your mouth down towards his collarbone. You felt him draw a deep breath. You lazily dragged your lips back up towards his jaw, daring to bite him lightly. Then, you pulled back again and almost did a double take. The pink strands had now turned a dazzling shade of hot pink. Yup, looks like you’d guessed correctly. “Ooooh, Beej,” you crooned, unable to stop yourself, “Is this what happens when you're…turned on?” He scoffed, turning his head away and pretending to be offended.

“What’s the matter?” “Nothing.” “Beej…” “I said nothing!” “Beej!” “Ok, ok!” He huffed, looking back at you again, “It’s just that… Pink isn’t exactly the best choice for a sexy color. And that’s why I…I just kinda hate it. All right?” He frowned. 

“Are you kidding me?” you laughed, reaching out and pulling him gently towards you to whisper in his ear, “I find it…” you gently bit down on his lobe, “Incredibly sexy.” “You do?” He asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow to see if you were joking. You nodded, giving him a mischievous look before leaning forward and starting to kiss his neck again. You immediately felt him relax under your touch. Inching your way upward, you nibbled the skin beneath his ear and heard him groan in appreciation.

Pairing: Jughead Jones x Reader

Description: Betty and Veronica observe (Y/N) and Jughead’s friendship, Jughead’s signature grey beanie seeming to be a catalyst for the more flirtatious points in their relationship

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,182

A/N: this is my first imagine, feedback is greatly appreciated!

Veronica and Betty sat in a booth at Pop’s, each girl sipping on her own milkshake.  They smiled and laughed as they chatted about random topics, the subject ranging from schoolwork to their friends.  After their giggles died down from joking about Kevin’s antics, the conversation landed on the topic of (Y/N) and Jughead.

“So (Y/N) and Jughead have been friends forever, like you and Archie, right?” Veronica asked.

“Yeah, they’ve been best friends for as long as any of us could remember,” Betty said, smiling.  “They used to chase each other around everywhere. It was so cute.  I remember this one time, we were in first grade and the four of us were playing in Archie’s backyard.  Suddenly, Jughead got down on one knee, took off his beanie, and proposed to (Y/N).”

“No!” Veronica gasped, covering a smile.

“Yes!” Betty giggled. “Archie and I were so shocked, but (Y/N) just smiled and put on the beanie.  She told him, ‘We’re much too young to get married, Juggie.  Ask me again when we’re eighteen and I’ll say yes.’” Veronica laughed and Betty soon joined her.  Once their laughter subsided, Veronica’s wandering eyes found Jughead sitting a few booths away, typing away on his computer.

“Speak of the devil,” she smirked, pointing at him as Betty turned around to look.  He sat by himself, ignorant to the world as he wrote his story.

“I’m surprised (Y/N)’s not with him,” Betty commented as she turned back to face Veronica.  She shrugged.

“I bet you she’ll walk in within the next ten minutes.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later (Y/N) entered the Chock’lit Shoppe.  She stood by the entrance for a minute, her eyes scanning the diner. Finally, she spotted Jughead and walked over to the booth.  Sliding into the same seat as Jughead, she rested her chin on his shoulder.  Betty and Veronica watched as her mouth moved, but they couldn’t hear what she was saying.

“Ugh, I can’t hear them!” Veronica moaned.  Betty nodded.

“Me too.  Maybe we could move a bit closer?” she suggested. “But be subtle about it.”  The girls slowly picked up their milkshake glasses and shifted down a few booths, so now they were within earshot of Jughead and (Y/N). Neither of them seemed to notice.

“It’s very well-written,” (Y/N) commented, her eyes scanning Jughead’s laptop screen.  “Very eloquent and ominous.”  The corners of Jughead’s lips curved upwards, but he didn’t take his eyes off the screen.

“Thanks,” he replied, continuing to type.  Betty and Veronica continued to observe their interactions, watching as Jughead continuously stole (Y/N)’s fries, to which she would reciprocate with a slap on his arm. At one point Jughead became so invested in his story that he completely zoned out, unable to hear (Y/N).

“Juggie,” she pestered him, lightly poking his arm.  “Come on, Jughead.  Earth to Juggie?”  He remained stoic as (Y/N) sighed, leaning back in the seat.  After a moment of thought, she sprung up again.  She smirked as she snatched the beanie off of Jughead’s head and tugged it onto hers.  That seemed to snap him out of his trace, because immediately he slammed his laptop shut and reached out to take it back.  (Y/N) giggled and ran out from their booth, running over to Betty and Veronica.  The two girls shifted so it would appear that they weren’t eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Quick, move,” (Y/N) urged as she squeezed past Betty into the booth.  Jughead slowly approached their table, his eyes never shifting from (Y/N).

“Give it back,” he demanded as he stood right in front of the table.  Betty and Veronica bit their lips in an attempt to keep their giggles at bay.  (Y/N) shook her head.

“Not unless you let me wear it tomorrow,” she bargained.  Jughead scoffed and crossed his arms.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” he told her.  He leaned over to grab it off (Y/N)’s head, but she swatted his arm away.

“This is a negotiation,” she replied, smirking.  “I have something that we both want.  I’m proposing a fair deal to you.  Take it or leave it.”  Jughead released an exasperated sigh as he looked at Betty and Veronica.

“Can either of you please give that back to me?” he pleaded.  The two girls almost missed the slight upward twitch of his lips. Veronica pursed her lips, trying to hide her smile.

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’.  “I think it’s a fair deal.”  Betty shrugged and nodded.

“I agree,” she stated. Jughead let out another frustrated groan and (Y/N) smirked.

“The girls have spoken, Juggie.  Do we have a deal?” she questioned.

“Fine,” Jughead agreed, rolling his eyes.  (Y/N) smirked triumphantly, jumping over the seat and out to stand next to Jughead. He grabbed the beanie off her head and placed it onto his.  A smirk began to creep onto his face.

“You didn’t make me pinky promise,” he taunted before retreating back to their table.  (Y/N) huffed in anger as she stomped back to their booth, sitting down across from Jughead with her arms crossed.  Betty and Veronica broke down into hysterical laughter.

“Oh my god!” Veronica laughed.  “They’re like an old married couple!”

“Yeah they are,” Betty giggled.  “I still can’t believe they’re just like friends.”  They both shook their heads as they turned their attention back to (Y/N) and Jughead’s booth.  The pair had stood up, Jughead’s laptop tucked under his arm, and they exited the diner.

The next day at school, Betty and Veronica gave (Y/N) confused stares as she roamed the hallways sporting Jughead’s signature grey beanie.  

“That cannot be Jughead’s,” Veronica denied, shutting her locker.  “I mean, there’s no way Jughead would actually give his beanie to her. He never takes that thing off.”  Betty gave her a doubtful look.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he let her wear it,” Betty replied as they began to walk to the student lounge.  “He’s completely smitten with her.”

“He’s more smitten with his hat,” Veronica joked, both girls laughing.

Their suspicions were confirmed when they spotted Jughead in the lounge, raven locks flowing freely. He wore no beanie.  (Y/N) entered a few minutes later, still wearing Jughead’s beanie.  She smirked as she walked over to him.  Betty and Veronica turned to face them, not-so-subtly attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Can I please have it back?” they heard Jughead whine.  (Y/N) grinned and shook her head, putting her hands over the beanie in case Jughead tried to snatch it off her head.

“No.”

“I feel like an idiot without it on,” he complained.  “Everyone’s giving me weird looks.  And normally I don’t mind that, but I’m feeling quite vulnerable and exposed without my beanie.”

“A deal’s a deal, Juggie,” (Y/N) sing-songed, walking over to sit next to Betty on the couch. Jughead muttered under his breath and shook his head, but he followed (Y/N) and leaned against the armrest of the couch. The four friends chatted and laughed together, and Betty and Veronica couldn’t help but notice Jughead’s frequent glances at (Y/N) and the wide smile that never left his face.

I don’t really have anything to say about this, except that I really wanted to write a Halloween story even though we’re already in December, so I found an excuse to do so…Hope you’ll like it : 

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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“You’re having a…Halloween party ?”

Flash asks, utterly confuse, holding in his hands the beautiful invitation card that you made. Orange, purple and black. Halloween colors alright. 

He could tell that it was you who designed it because it was full of (terrible) puns, and there was no way Batman would have come up with this…”We’ve got booze, bring the boos” ? “Spooktacular Halloween party” ? “We’re dying to see you” ? “Creep it real” ? 

He also knew that it couldn’t be Alfred. The butler came up with amazing puns, but they were always elaborate and smart. So much that sometimes it would take everyone to think about it for a minute to get them. While you, just like Barry, were an adept of : “the worst the pun is, the better it becomes” (which always greatly annoyed your husband). 

… “Witch better have my candy” ?! 

Yeah no. Definitely your doing. 

Flash turns his head to the Batman who completely ignored his question engrossed in what happened on his computer screen, and repeats : 

“You’re having a Halloween party ?” 

No answer. 

“You’re having a Halloween party ?” 

Still no answer. 

“…You’re having a Halloween party ?” 

Bruce sighs, knowing that Barry won’t let it go until he has an answer, and he really needs to focus on what he was doing. 

Usually, he was very good at ignoring people and not being bothered by their bickering…But for some reasons, he could never seem to completely ignore Flash. He always ended up answering him. 

Maybe because the kid reminded him too much of his oldest son, and therefor he found himself unable to completely ignore him ? Dick used to talk so much when he was a little kid, asking a hundred questions per minute…Come to think of it, Dick was still very chatty. But unlike Flash, the boy knew when not to bother his dad ! 

Before Barry could ask yet another extremely annoying “You’re having a Halloween party ?”, Bruce snapped : 

“Yes. Yes we’re having a Halloween party ! Just like it says on the card ! (Y/N) wanted to invite you all, so…”

Bruce points at the card, hoping his words clearly implied that if it was up to him, none of them would have been invited, and goes back to look at the screen of the computer. 

There’s a short pause before Barry starts again : 

“It’s December.” 

Bruce doesn’t answer once more, but gives him his “side eyes glare” and Flash finally gets the message (or does he?). 

Before pestering the bat again, he turns to his other friends gathering around the common room in the Justice League’s Watchtower. But none of them really seem that fazed by the fact that they were invited to a HALLOWEEN party at the Wayne’s house, while it was December 8th. 

“It’s…December…Halloween was well over a month ago…what the hell guys…” 

He murmurs to himself, and he knows Batman heard him because suddenly he’s typing loudly on his keyboard (always a sign that he’s getting very annoyed). This actually warns Barry for good, and instead of talking to Bruce again, knowing he won’t get much more answers, he turns to the next best thing…one of his son. 

Unfortunately, Dick wasn’t anywhere in sight. Shame, Barry was sure that if he asked the oldest he would have had all the answers he needed…

Jason wasn’t there either, but that probably was a good thing. He would have answered Barry’s question, but you could be sure that he would have told him lies after lies just to fuck around with him (and Flash would believe him, because he was a tiny bit gullible sometimes, and Jay was really good at coming up with very believable lies). 

Tim was sitting next to his father, on the arm of his desk chair, looking at the screen with interest. He sometimes pointed at nothing (or at least it seemed like nothing to Flash, just another line of code) on the screen and his father would nod, proud, and modify…something. 

“Hey, Red Robin, you’re having a Halloween party in December ?”

But the boy also ignores him. And much better than his dad as he didn’t even flinch or anything, not registering any words. Flash didn’t took offense though, he knew that when Tim was enthralled on something, the world around him could crumble that he wouldn’t even notice. 

“Fortunately” for Barry, Damian was also there, on the couch. 

He was polishing his shoes carefully, his tongue sticking out of his mouth, focused on his task. His mom asked him to clean his boots earlier this morning, because Alfred felt a bit under the weather, and she didn’t have time to do it as she had an important appointment with her publisher. You can bet that the boy was going to do an impeccable job at cleaning his dirty night-work boots ! 

Hence, the tongue sticking out, signifying that he was really into what he was doing. Entirely concentrated on it, in fact. This was important business. His mom asked him to do it. 

Flash walks towards him, leaving Bruce and Tim to whatever they were doing. He could’ve sworn he heard the bat sigh in relief as he stepped away…But it must be his imagination, Batman wasn’t that petty (spoiler alert : he is). 

Damian was just putting his brush away, looking at every details on one of his boot to be sure he didn’t miss a spot. He was starting to harbor a satisfied grin when he saw Barry standing there, next to him. The boy raises an eyebrow at him, and waited for the man to talk. 

It didn’t take long. Flash sticks his Halloween invitation in front of Damian’s face and asks, still confused and not understanding why he was the only one that seems to find this weird : 

“You guys are having a Halloween party ?” 

Damian looks at the card, then at Flash, with a curious look. What was it with that guy always asking questions that had obvious answers ? Just like his father did earlier, he points at the invitation and says : 

“All the infos are on the card. Ummi organized everything, can’t tell you more”. 

“But…it’s December !” 

Damian raises his head and stares at Barry straight in the eyes, before saying : 

“Your point being ?” 

“My point bei…Halloween was over a month ago ! It’s Christmas time now ! Why are you having a Halloween party in December ?!” 

“Oh. That’s what get your panties in a bunch uh ?” 

“…What ?” 

Barry is even more confused now. Since when did Robin say this kind of things anyway ? And why didn’t he get the problem ? Oh his little smug smile was insufferable. Why did no one get the pro…

“Hey Barry.” 

His heart skips a beat as he turned to find…You. Every time he thought he was over his childish crush on you, you barged in and smiled at him like that and now he was blushing without really knowing why ! 

“Hi…he…hi !” 

Damian rolls his eyes and shakes his head in exasperation. He would never understand why Flash, the chattiest overconfident person in the League (in his opinion), acted like an awkward teenager around his mom. Never. 

“Don’t pay attention to him - you say, pointing at your youngest son- he’ve been hanging out with Jay a bit too much lately.” 

It was true. Damian picked up a few of his older brother’s signature punchline recently, because they’ve been playing video games together a lot. 

Dick was never a fan of this kind of things so Damian stopped asking him to play (even more so because Dick SUCKED at video games, so much that it’d get frustrating). And whenever he played with Tim, they ended up fighting over ridiculous things (”Oh you have more ammos than me why did you take it you should have left it for me blahblahblah !!”). 

But one day, Damian discovered that Jay used to be a huge geek when he was younger, and loved video games…

They ended up bonding over multiplayer video games, and played very often together. You told Jay that he wasn’t allowed to say bad words around his little brother and your boy came up with…pretty interesting ways of swearing. Unfortunately, Damian picked it up. 

Speaking of the devil, he was now standing up in front of you, showing you his shoes with a proud look on his face. 

“I cleaned them.” 

He says, utterly satisfied with himself. You couldn’t help but smile sweetly at him. Oh if only others could see how cute and kind your little one truly was…

You caress his cheek lightly and kiss his forehead, before saying : 

“Good job my little bird. Thank you. Now, go tell your brother and dad it’s time to go back home for me, please ?” 

Damian, a wide smile on his face (Flash was pretty sure it was the first time he saw the boy smile genuinely, not smugly or anything), nodded and went happily slightly jumping up and down tell his dad and brother you were here. It’s crazy, how a few words of encouragement could make your youngest son happy. How being supportive and nice to him could change his behavior for the best. 

You turned to Barry, and smiled some more, amused by the fact that he (and the rest of your friends) was still kinda shocked to see the “Batfamily” smile when around you. You wink at him, and he gulps a little bit. Then you say : 

“Now that he’s gone, and since I know they’ll take ages to actually leave the computer and come home with me, let me tell you a story, ok ?” 

Barry looks at you curiously, and still confused as ever. 

“Um…Ok ?” 

He says, and you point to the couch. You both sit down, and you start talking. Flash is actually not that surprised that your story is basically answering all his questions as to why you guys are having a Halloween party in December… 

Tony Stark: My Shot 

i imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. when’s it going to get me? in my sleep? seven feet ahead of me? if i see it come do i run or do i let it be? 

Steve Rogers: Alexander Hamilton

he struggled and kept his guard up. inside he was longing for something to be apart of

Natasha Romanoff: Guns and Ships

an immigrant you know and love who’s unafraid to step in. [she’s] constantly confusin, confoundin the [hydra henchmen] ;)

Thor Odinson: What’d I Miss?

What’d I miss? [Asgard], my home sweet home, I wanna give you a kiss 

Bruce Banner: Washington On Your Side

try not to crack under the stress, we’re breaking down like fractions 

Clint Barton: Wait For It

and if there’s a reason i’m still alive when so many have died then i’m willing to wait for it

Peter Parker: History Has It’s Eyes On You 

i know that we can win. i know that greatness lies in you but remember from here on in history has its eyes on you

Wanda Maximoff: Hurricane

in the eye of a hurricane there is quiet for just a moment

T’Challa: What Comes Next?

Oceans rise. Empires fall. It’s much harder when its your call

Stephen Strange: Non-Stop

why do you assume you’re the smartest in the room? soon that attitude may be your doom

Scott Lang: Dear Theodosia 

i’m dedicating everyday to you. domestic life was never quite my style but when you smile you knock me out i fall apart

Bucky Barnes: The Adams Administration (cut version)

SIT DOWN JOHN YOU FAT MOTHERFUCKER

Sam Wilson: Aaron Burr Sir

The revolution’s imminent, what do you stall for? If you stand for nothing [Wilson], what do you fall for?

Peter Quill: Right Hand Man

if they tell my story i am either gonna die on the battlefield in glory or rise up 

Drax:  The Story of Tonight

I may not live to see our glory. But I will gladly join the fight. And when our children tell our story. They’ll tell the story of tonight

Gamora: One Last Time

let’s take a break tonight and then we’ll teach them how to say goodbye. to say goodbye. you and i

Rocket: Farmer Refuted

Oh my god. Tear this dude apart.

Groot: The World Was Wide Enough

Death doesn’t discriminate. Between the sinners and the saints it takes and it takes and it takes