#tiffany prom dresses

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Part 7:

One Day We Won't Be

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: Confrontations and conversations.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, ANGST, FLUFF. This part is plot with porn. Flashbacks, mentions of teenage pregnancy and heartbreak, the past in human form, important conversations with an important question. 😉. Black girl magic, natural hair care, supercenters. Shower sex, hand job, slight choking, finger f ucking, raw p in v, size kink, squirting, squirting oral sex, praise kink.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the seventh installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

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Previous part here

——

May 2004

You and Sy were in your own little bubble most of the time you were at the prom. Of course you had fun with your crew, but you two were all over each other, and after a couple of hours, decided to cut out and head to the chalet. On your way out, you were stopped by Jeremy Atkins, who hadn’t spoken much to Sy since he’d broken up with Becca six months earlier.

“They are about to announce Prom Court, Sy. Word on the street is that you’re a cinch for King.”

Sy looked at you, and then back at Jeremy, sighed, and whispered in your ear.

“You mind if we stay just a little while longer, Buttercup?”

You pouted just a little, then grinned up at Sy, going on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“Only if you keep the crown on all night. I mean allllll night.”

You giggled as Sy chuckled and grinned down at you.

“Even if I’m king, your wish is my command. Here. I see the goosebumps raising on your arms.” 

You grinned as Sy draped his tuxedo jacket around your arms. Now you were ensconced in his warmth and his smell. 

Stephanie Prince, the Student Body President, walked up to the mic on stage and said lots of words before announcing the court. You were too wrapped up in Sy to pay attention. When he was announced King, Sy picked you up when he stood, causing you to squeal before he put you down. Your classmates either laughed or rolled their eyes.

Sy reached the stage and winked at you, who was standing right in front taking pictures of your man.

When Becca was announced queen, you curiously watched her gain the stage. Becca’s high waisted ball gown was a little out of fashion, which was weird for her, but you figured she just wanted to attract attention. After they were crowned, Sy moved to get back to you as Becca stepped up to the mic.

“Thank you for this honor. I just want to make one announcement.”

Becca moved her hands around her waist, unfastening her skirt. Everyone gasped as they thought she was stripping, but she only revealed a sleek dress underneath.

And a very pregnant belly.

“I will be having a baby in August. And the father is your Prom King, Jake Syverson.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!?!?” 

Carla yelled it as the rest of the room was silent.

Your eyes searched for Sy, who was frozen halfway down the stage steps. His eyes were wide as he gaped at Becca.

She looked back at him triumphantly.

“Remember the night of your 18th birthday, Sy?”

Your mind raced. Sy’s birthday was in October, and right before you two got together. That would mean that Becca was almost 7 months pregnant. You felt the blood rushing in your ears as you started walking backwards toward the door.

His mouth dropped open as he stared at her, then, when he heard you sob, he searched for you in the crowd. 

You were out of the door, Carla and Tiffani and their dates hot on your heels, in under two seconds, flat.

—-

June 2024

You woke up with a start and stared over at Sy, who was sleeping peacefully beside you in his bed. This time it was you who watched him sleep as you processed the fact that Sy was here with you now, and what happened 20 years ago was over and done with. Your mind was trying to trick you with fear and anxiety. 

Sy had reached his goal of convincing you to give this a try this weekend, and you decided to risk it all by checking out of your AirBnB early and taking your rental back to the airport that morning because you wanted to spend every possible minute with him. 

“Now who’s bein’ a creep, Buttercup?”

Sy’s gravelly voice was heaven as he gathered you up in his arms, and the smile on his face was everything. 

You snuggled in with Sy, kissing his neck and enjoying his warmth. You let the skin on skin contact regulate your erratic heartbeat from the dream.

“Hmmmm. I wasn’t stalking you, promise Syverson, just thinking of everything I need to do to get ready for my interview tomorrow. Need look presentable and be packed, because my interview is at nine, my plane leaves at two…”

You trailed off as you thought of how your outlook on Monday had changed from when you’d first arrived back in town. What started as a lark was now serious. You were beginning to think that you wanted this to work between you and Sy, and getting this job would play a big part in that.

Sy looked down at you and kissed your forehead.  

“Come back to me, Buttercup. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.”

You looked up at him, “What?” 

You laughed a little, because you were unsure what he was speaking about.

“I can tell when you get into your head. Whatever it is, we can get through it.”

You continued to stare into his eyes and then he nodded.

“And I was also talking about after you fly away tomorrow afternoon. I’m hoping that you will come back to me and we can continue this new relationship.”

You smiled, because Sy really got you. You kissed his hairy chin and listened to his heartbeat for a minute. You wanted to be there forever. But you didn’t say that.

“Well, I was thinking, I really need to do something with my hair. Want to do a twistout, but I need some products and equipment.”

Sy leaned back to look at you.

“Equipment?”

You grinned.

“Yes, equipment. Black girl magic requires some serious alchemy.”

Sy was interested now.

“What kind of equipment? I got a whole garage full.”

You bit your lip at how cute he was.

“I doubt that you have a hood dryer out there.” 

You lifted your hand to his hair. 

“But you rock these curls, Sy. You might.”

Sy laughed and ran his own hand through his hair to capture yours and bring it to his chest. You flattened your palm to feel his heart beat, which is what he wanted. 

It only beat for you.

“Anything you need, my lady.”

You giggled at his foolishness. Sy laughed with you.

“Seriously. Whatever you need to feel confident for tomorrow. It’s a big day.”

You looked into Sy’s hopeful eyes.

“You’re right. I applied on a whim when I saw the opening. It the dream, working for a company that designs and builds small, eco-friendly homes for the unhoused. It’s perfect.”

Sy watched your eyes sparkle, for about the sixth time, exactly the number of times you’d mentioned the company this weekend.

“Even if it's not my dream location.”

Sy smiled at you and grunted.

“Hmph. Avoiding me I see.”

You were about to give a facetious retort, but decided against it. It was time out for all of that.

“It wasn’t just you. It…”

“I know, Buttercup. Just teasin’ ya.”

Then his face turned serious.

“I need to tell you the full truth about something.”

Your heart dropped. 

“I know that ReHome is your ideal and all, but I don’t want you to get into the interview and be surprised. My company, Castle Builders, is the primary contractor for them. We’d be sorta, kinda… working together?”

The way he said it, with his face scrunched up like a little boy, was so adorable, but you were wary.

“And you let me go on and on about it, without thinking of mentioning that?”

You moved out of Sy’s grasp and sat up, covering yourself with the sheet.

Sy sat up and leaned against the headboard behind you, running his hands through his hair again and taking a deep breath. He needed to be careful.

“Yes. Because before this morning, I didn’t want to scare you off.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, giving him a side eye.

“And what happened this morning, Sy? Some bomb sex?”

Sy looked like a little boy again, younger than when you met him.

“You told me that you were mine.”

Your heart did a funny thing as you heard those words. You fought the urge to run.

“You weren’t square with me, Sy.”

You shook your head in disappointment, and he felt terrible.

“Don’t look at me like that, Buttercup. It’s killin’ me.”

Sy put his hand on your shoulder.

“Please. Listen. Don’t build this up in your head to more than it is.”

You didn’t look up at him as you turned your eyes to the sheets and tried to stop the tears from falling.

“I didn’t engineer the interview. I actually didn’t know until you told me last night. And I didn’t tell them to hire you. You got that on lock on your own.”

You chuckled and sniffled, wiping your eyes quickly. Sy’s heart broke, but he didn’t move because he knew you needed space. He was surprised you were still in bed with him.

“I haven’t been hired yet.”

“You will be.”

“You just said you didn’t tell them to hire me.”

Sy smiled and wiped a tear from your cheek. You let him.

“I didn’t. With your qualifications and roots in this town, they’d be idiots not to want to talk to you. Also, your background and experience is a definite plus for the clients.”

You looked at Sy a long time. He knew you. He knew what you and your mom went through back in the day, and he believed in you. So you decided to believe him.

“What are they going to do when they find out about our relationship, Sy?”

He grinned at that. He raised his eyebrow.

“So, we’re in a relationship are we?”

You rolled your eyes at him and tried not to smile.

“You know what….?”

Sy put his hands up and did some fast talking.

“Just kidding, Buttercup. Don’t get mad.”

He took your hand and pulled you closer.

“I think you know I want forever with you.”

You didn’t say anything, just allowed Sy to pull you into an embrace. You relaxed. He continued.

“We are in year two of a five year contract. I figure, by that time the contract is fulfilled, we will be on our way to creating a non-profit arm of Castle on our own…”

You watched how small your hand looked in Sy’s and wondered about the ‘we’ that he just uttered. You decided to chill.

He was worth it.

“Okay, Sy.”

You finally looked him in the eye.

“But no more surprises. I’m serious. If you want this to work, we’ve got to have truth.”

Sy looked down at you, amazed at how beautiful you were, and that you were in his arms.

“Oh, I’ll give you more truth than you can handle, Buttercup.”

He smiled at you angelically and leaned in for a peck on the lips. Then, moved to get out of bed and grinned as he went into the bathroom.

“It’s almost two pm, got to get a move on to build your dream salon. Where would we get this hood dryer?”

You stared at the ceiling, not believing that you and Sy were doing this domestic thing. You arrived in town two days earlier dreading seeing him and now you didn't want to leave. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, seeking clarity and peace.

“The supercenter should have them.”

You said it as you breezed past him, naked and on the way into the shower.

He was staring.

“I’ll never get over seeing you all wet, Buttercup.”

—-

Sy pulled you to him for a kiss as he stepped into the shower.

“Can’t ever get enough of you,” he whispered it in your ear as he handled your ass, his long fingers skimming your wetness.

“Same, Sy.”

Your hands were all over him, sliding over his shoulders with the hot water. You traced his neck, torso and abs, down to the throbbing muscle between you. All the while, you were kissing passionately, his tongue sliding through your mouth as if establishing ownership. 

Your hand slid up and down his cock, expertly now, squeezing in that way that made him groan and throw his head back, giving you a view of the corded muscles in his neck. The way your thumb slipped across the slick head of him made him tremble and you feel powerful. When your other hand slipped down to his balls and tugged, Sy had moved you against the cooler tiles of the shower wall.

“Fuck, Buttercup. You do that so godamn well…too fucking well.”

You went on tip toe for a kiss, sucking his tongue in time as you pumped his cock. Sy moaned in your mouth, then grabbed your throat as he bent further in order to suck your nipples, his lips, tongue and teeth making you quiver. You whimpered when his mouth came back up to your ear.

“You tryna make me spill before I see you come apart for me? Hunh?”

His voice was gravel and rumbled straight to your pussy. Sy’s pupils were blown as he looked at you through half closed lids, mouth open and panting as you worked him with both hands.

His grinned and held your gaze as he slowly inserted two fingers into his mouth and pulled them back out, causing you to tremble.

“Open.”

One word made you close to cumming untouched, and you did as he commanded. He inserted the same two fingers on your tongue. You closed your lips around them and started to suck. His cock jumped in your hands and despite the overhead shower spray, you felt more slick shoot from his tip.

Sy’s eyes rolled back into his head.

“Christ, this mouth, Buttercup. Those hands, so good for me. This. Pussy.”

He actually gasped as he removed his fingers from your mouth into your wet heat and started pumping.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me, baby.”

You rode his fingers as he started fucking you in earnest, the velocity at which his hand moved causing violent sprays of water all around you as you came on his hand.

“So fucking pretty when you cum for me Buttercup.”

You just whimpered as he turned you around, bent you over, and then pushed his fat cock inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so thick!”

“So fucking tight!” 

You both exclaimed at the same time.

Although you’d taken him plenty of times already, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to his girth. Sy was close as soon as he was inside you. Your warm wet heat was his weakness. He clutched you to him from behind as he finally slid home and you pushed back on him as he fucked you. Hard.

Water was jumping everywhere at the force of his thrusts and he created more leverage and a better angle by holding your arms behind your back. 

“Ugh! Feels s-s-so goooddd. Sy!” 

“Come on, give it to me baby!”

You came again on his cock, your fluid competition for the shower spray. 

“Fuck! I gotta taste that shit.”

Sy pulled out and got on his knees to lap you up and eat you out. 

After you came again, he stood up, picked you up and fucked your weak body against the wall. You rode him, clinging to him like a vine until you felt the hot jettison of his cum shoot inside you and drip down your legs along with the steamy shower water.

Next thing you knew, you were being shook awake and you found yourself naked and back in Sy’s bed.

“C’mon Buttercup. I let you sleep for an hour. But we really gotta get going.”

You moaned and rolled over, covering your head with a pillow.

“We can stay in bed. I’ll order take out and you can have your hair in pigtails for the interview.”

You bolted upright in the bed.

“I’m awake.”

—---

45 minutes later, you were bopping along in the grocery section of the supercenter, your cart full of hair supplies, looking for some snacks while Sy scoped out some meat and fish to grill. You were into this domestic shit. Suddenly, a kid, about 8 or nine years old, ran into your cart.

“Ooof! Sorry!”

He was adorable and grinned at you before he ran back to his mother, who was castigating him. 

“Josiah! I told you to look where you are going! Did you apolo– Y/N????”

You looked at the kid’s mother and blanched. Holy shit.

“Becca?”

She looked exactly the same, but older. And she didn’t seem perfect any more.

“Yes. It’s me. I heard you were in town for the reunion, but I always just missed you at the functions.”

She didn’t mention Sy, but if people told her you were at the reunion activities, they’d be sure to tell her who you’d left with. You decided to give her some grace.

“How are you? This your little one?”

Becca looked over at her son as if surprised he was there. She softened, and ruffled his curly hair. You both looked at him and saw Jeremy.

“Yes. he is my little. I have- I have four. Jeremy and I. Jeremiah… she cleared her throat, looking guilty as you both remembered how that pregnancy was announced. Jordan, Jade, and Josiah.”

You inwardly cringed but said, “How cute.”

Becca, chucked her chin up.

“Yes, we went with all J names. I know it’s not cool, but… this is us.”

You felt bad for a minute. Could Becca be looking for your approval?

“Hey… No, I like it….And he’s a beautiful kid.”

Josiah was now tucked under his mother’s arm.

“Yes, and he’s smart, and kind. My road dog.” 

Becca smiled down at him grinning up at her and she looked almost beautiful. She looked back up at you and then her smile dropped. You felt a chill in the air.

“Hey Sy.”

You looked back to see Sy behind you with meat that he reached around you to put in the cart. There was no mistaking what this was.

“Hello, Becca.”

Sy’s back was straight and his tone more formal. You got a glimpse of his command in the service.

Becca’s eyes surveyed the pair of you and she cleared her throat again. 

“You two always did make a handsome pair. You look good together.”

You had nothing to say to that, given your history, so you just stayed silent. The reality of the woman before you destroyed the multiple fantasies you’d had about gouging her eyes out.

Sy put his hand on your waist and drew you back on to him, almost like a shield. Damn, this woman hurt him.

You felt bad for all three of you.

“We do, don’t we?”

Josiah was tap dancing in the aisle now, and Becca shushed him.

“Yes. Well, I’ve got to go get him to soccer. Jordan’s looking forward to football this fall, Sy.”

Becca awkwardly turned her cart around in the aisle and spoke over her shoulder as she fled.

“Me too. I hear he’s even better than ‘Miah.”

Becca grinned as before she turned down the next aisle.

“Just you wait and see. Good to see you, Y/N.”

You both stood there for a second, letting the interaction sink in. It was anticlimactic for you and nerve wracking for Sy.

“You good?”

Sy was worried that this was going to send you over the edge.

“I’m great.”

You turned in his grip and gave him a kiss. 

“Let’s go home. I’m starving.”

The word home made any worries in Sy’s mind disappear.

—--

May 2004

As Sy pulled up to your place after the prom, the other two Powerpuff Girls and their dates were standing guard outside. Sy jumped out and started toward the house.

Carla stepped in front of him. 

"You don't wanna go in there, Sy."

"Don't worry, I got her, Bubbles. Let me pass."

"You don’t get to call me that anymore, Jacob. Turn the fuck around.” 

Carla blocked the way, Tiffani and the crew behind her.

“Please get outta my way."

"No."

"No?" 

Sy glared down at Carla. And she glared back up at him, unafraid.

"Did I stutter?"

Sy turned to Tiffani. 

“Listen, can you talk to her? Ask her to see me?”

Tiffani crossed her arms. 

“Now why would I do that? You embarrassed the fuck outta my friend tonight.”

Sy threw up his hands.

“I didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“Did you, or did you NOT stick your unwrapped dick into Becca Ferguson 6 months ago?”

Sy winced at Carla’s blunt words.

“Don’t get shy now, mutha–”

Tiffani put her hand on Carla’s shoulder.

“Look, I don’t think she’s going, but I will go tell her that you’re here.”

Carla glared at her bestie, but Tiff shushed her and turned to go to your front door. Everyone watched it open and accept her in, while Sy nervously paced beside the Bronco.

Ten minutes later, Tiff came out of the house with a box and his tuxedo jacket. She approached Sy, who stopped moving and was staring at what was in her hands. He looked from what was in Tiffani’s hands to her face.

“No.”

Sy was in denial as Carla approached him with a box of his things.

“Yes, Sy. You fucked up big time. She doesn’t want to see you. At all. These are some things of yours. And your jacket. Be careful. There is something for you in the pocket.”

“No.”

Sy wouldn’t accept the items, so Tiffani just opened the Bronco and placed the belongings in the passenger seat, taking your bag from inside.

“No! Buttercup!!! Y/N!!!!”

Sy charged toward your house as Gavin and Tony blocked him. They did a good job, after all, they were his defensive backs.

“Just go man. Give her some room.”

Sy looked at Carla as if he’d heard her for the first time.

Yes, he’d give you some space and in the morning, you’d talk. He looked at your door again and then down at his boots, kicking a rock before circling around and getting into the truck. He sat there, staring into space for a minute before he started the car.

“Hey, yo, man. You good?”

Gavin was concerned.

Sy shook his head. He wasn’t good. Not at all.

“This is wild, Ya’ know?”

“Yes. Yes it is. Be safe on the road.”

Gavin had little sympathy as he tapped Betty twice, signaling that it was time for Sy to leave.

Sy took one last look at your house, then started Betty and pulled away from the curb. He got home without realizing it, and started walking into his house. He stopped halfway to the door, and then ran back to the truck, diving for his things through the open window. Surely what was in the jacket was a note from you!

Sy knew it was over when he pulled his grandmother’s ring out of his tuxedo pocket.

—---

June 2024

Sy looked at the ring as he held it again. It was so delicate. And special. And you loved it back in the day. He hoped that you would accept it again. His heart beat was erratic and the meal that he’d carefully prepared threatened to come back up. He put the ring back in his pocket, scared that he would fuck up the good vibes of the weekend.

You were reading over your research on ReHome while you sat under the dryer. He smiled as he thought of how charitable you were toward Becca during your talk on the way home from the store. Instead of setting you off, the encounter seemed to calm you down. You were focused on the future, excited about the interview, and flirting through dinner. 

The ease by which you’d settled into his life in mere hours had him shook. He had hope that transcended time, but he was in awe that this really might happen. Sy watched the baseball game, trying to distract himself from you but instead he ended up staring at the screen while thoughts of you ran through his mind. 

You walked into Sy’s living room, clad in only his ARMY t-shirt and panties. You ran your hand over your twists and decided they were sexy. Your confidence was back. Today, you saw the truth. And the truth was that Becca Ferguson was just a flawed woman. And she had tried her best to stop what you and Sy had, but time and fate had you back together. Because even though it was 20 years later, Jacob Syverson still loved you.

And you still loved him.

You leaned against the wall as Sy stared at the television screen. He looked delectable in his grey sweatpants which stretched taught on his thighs and a Castle Builders t-shirt which was hanging on to his muscles for dear life. He caught sight of you drooling over him as he lifted his arm to rake through the curls on his head.

“Why hello there, Buttercup. Or should I call you Ms. Creeper?”

You laughed as you sauntered over to stand in front of him on the couch. He licked his lips and looked you and your attire up and down. He leaned forward and put his fingertips on the back of your knee. 

“I love you walking into my house and stealing my clothes. Looks good on you, baby. Damn good.”

His hand moved up your thigh and you trembled as you asked a question. 

“Who’s winning?”

Sy looked up at you and thought for the hundredth time that he wanted this for life. His heart swelled as he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap.

“I am.”

You snuggled into his chest and nuzzled his neck, inhaling the scent of him and trying not to think of leaving the following afternoon. This was not how you pictured this weekend turning out. You just wanted to stay in his arms.

“Hmmmm, looks to me like it’s the ‘Stros, but maybe you’ll get lucky too.” 

You were grinning up at him when something shiny caught your eye.

You turned your head to see Sy’s grandmother’s ring between his pointer finger and thumb. Suddenly, a sound came out of your throat, a cross between an exclamation, a sob, and a laugh.

“Jacob Syverson!”

You sat up straight on his thigh with your mouth open and your hands covering it and looked from him to his grandmother’s ring.

“Buttercup. Now this is just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, that’s not worth much monetarily, but it means the world to me. I used to think that no one would want it, but my Gran told me that it was for my future wife.” 

You stared at the ring like it was the crown jewels, and of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. Then you looked at Sy. You were ready.

“A long time ago, I said that we were jumpin' the gun, and that we were too young, but I also knew that one day we wouldn’t be.”

You were sobbing now.

“Oh, Sy…”

“I will love you ‘til the day I die, Buttercup. I know this is super fast, but then again it’s taken 20 years. I just can’t help it. I can’t wait any longer.”

Sy lifted you off of his lap and went down on one knee on the rug in front of you. It felt as if there was no air in the room and you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

“Will you take this ring as a promise of marriage?”

“Sy… I love you. I do.”

Sy grinned and grabbed the back of your neck for a kiss as you tried to keep your wits about you.

“Now. What exactly are you asking me?”

“I am asking you to marry me, Buttercup.”

——

Hit Reblog if you like it!

Next part here.

[juneberrie]

CLEO WITH A LOVER WHO LIKES SPOILING HER !

thinks its sweet but also

very very very funny

because like. duh. shes rich rich

whenever u wanna pay for something she's kinda surprised at first becuase. all her old partners just waited for her to pay? since yk she's like oil money rich.

but she lets u <3

she absolutely refuses to let you pay for super super expensive things though

like she'll let you pay for dinner or a trip to the mall but if u wanna pay for like. a prom dress? a tiffany's necklace. absolutely not

she loves being spoiled, lets be honest. she's used to it

but she doesnt expect it half the time? like especially not from you

she's very insecure because of how she grew up and sometimes thinks she doesn't deserve such a nice lover as u.

but if YOU spoil her she's going to spoil u BACK.

if u pay for her nails to be done she's gonna pay for ur hair to get done

u pay for her makeup shopping spree? she's putting down her card at the store to get that new pair of shoes you wanted

in conclusion

sometimes she thinks she's not good enough to be spoiled, but you (and the flowers u get her every monday) are helping <3

[lexapro-princess]

About Me

Hi, I'm London, I'm from Argentina, and I'm a girlblogger. I'm 22. I'm a piscis, pink is my favorite color and I study psychology in college.

I've had multiple accounts so I've been a girlblogger since 2020.

Lana Del Rey is my favorite singer since I was 17.

My favorite songs from released albums are:

BTD: Summertime Sadness and Off To The Races

Paradise: Ride, Gods & Monsters

UV: Shades Of Cool, West Coast, Black Beauty

Honeymoon: Music To Watch Boys To, High By The Beach, The Blackest Day

LFL: Cherry, White Mustang, Heroin

NFR: Venice Bitch, Cinnamon Girl, Bartender

COTCC: White Dress, COTCC, Tulsa Jesus Break

BB: Black Bathing Suit, Wildflower Wildfire

DYKTTATUOBLVD: A&W, Candy Necklace, Taco Truck x VB

A.K.A: Put Me In A Movie, Yayo, Gramma (Blue Ribbon Sparkler Trailer Heaven)

Sirens: Out With A Bang, A Star For Nick, Pretty Baby

Unreleased: Be My Daddy, Break My Fall, Breaking My Heart, Butterflies, Butterflies Pt. 2, Television Heaven, Prom Song (Gone Wrong), Pink Champagne, Queen Of Disaster.

My favorite movies are: Alice In Wonderland, Girl, Interrupted, Breakfast At Tiffany's, Roman Holiday, Black Swan, Priscilla, Lolita, Scarface (1983), Abzurdah (2015) and Suicide Squad (2016)

My favorite actors and actresses: Keanu Reeves, Cillian Murphy, Margot Robbie, Rachel McAdams, Emma Roberts, Leighton Meester, Angelina Jolie, Brittany Murphy, Winona Rayder, Natalie Portman, Anne Hathaway, Lily Collins, Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Marilyn Monroe, Benedict Cumberbatch (love of my life), Robert Downey Jr, Johnny Depp and Al Pacino.

I'm bi, and in the autism spectrum.

My favorite TV shows: The Big Bang Theory, Gossip Girl, Sherlock, Skins, Scream Queens.

I struggle with dysthymia (persistent depressive disorder) and anxiety.

My favorite Disney princess is Elsa.

Characters with whom I share personalities: Elsa, Blair Waldorf, Cher Horowitz, Chanel Oberlin, Sherlock, Sheldon Cooper.

I don't like TikTok and other many modern things.

Winter is the best season change my mind.

I'm always happy to be moots with anyone interested, if you're a girlblogger from Argentina please feel free to DM me but if you're from someplace else you're also welcome.

[dwtdog]

slightly longer drabble for fem dnf week day 2🥳🥳

--

Dream hums as she spins her lock, a song she’d heard on the car radio that morning perpetually stuck in her head. The click of the lock as it reaches each number is in tune with the beat, and it makes her grin something crazy. 

With a final twist, the lock clicks open, and she’s able to swing the door of her locker out, stopping it just in time from hitting her friend, Nic, square in the face. Nic gives her a look, but Dream is hardly fazed- the shorter girl always has plenty of glares to go around. 

The song playing in her head comes to an end as she rifles through her backpack, pulling out the books she won’t need for the rest of the day, and hefting them up and into the locker. She takes a moment to admire it, as she always does. She’d taken care when decorating at the beginning of the year, enlisting her mom and sister to help make some cute decorations, but the star of the show is Dream’s prized collection of magazine cuttings- cheerleaders from all over the country, in all sorts of poses, decorating the entire inside of the locker door. 

She’d been collecting them for years at this point, after begging her parents for a subscription to a cheerleading magazine, and the selection she’d chosen for school had been meant to inspire her. Tricky poses and tight uniforms, all the better to motivate her own performance.

Nic snorts. Dream tilts her head, peering around the edge of her locker, to see Nic crossing her arms and giving her another sort of look. This one is less reproachful and more- knowing. Dream hates it.

“Nicole,” Dream says pleasantly, rearranging the backpack in her arms. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, don't worry about me. I can see you were having some quality time, enjoying those pictures of yours,” Nic responds, shrugging. 

Dream sighs dramatically, taking one last look at the pictures before closing the locker door. Her eyes linger on exposed stomachs and bare shoulders, so perfectly tanned. Her skin just never seems to get that way.

“You wouldn’t get it,” she says, throwing her backpack strap over her shoulder. “All you do is play basketball or whatever. We don’t even have a girls team.”

Nic just laughs, joining Dream as they head for class together. Neither of them like chemistry all that much, but it’s made more enjoyable when they sit together, heads bent over a shared desk as they exchange gossip. The teacher, a senile old man, is too absorbed in drawing meaningless molecular bonds on the board to notice. 

“I heard Jimmy has a new girlfriend,” Nic whispers as soon as they’re seated. She meets Dream’s eyes expectantly, tapping her fingers in rapid succession. “That bitch Tiffany.”

Dream smiles immediately. “Oh, I love Tiffany! Did you see her prom dress last year? The red was so perfect for her.”

“As if!” Nic says, a touch too loud. Dream elbows her in the ribs, giggling. “She stole your boyfriend!” she murmurs, voice peaking with disbelief.

“Oh, but we broke up a week ago?” Dream glances at the board, trying, for a moment, to decipher it. She gets as far as identifying a hydrogen bond before she gives up, turning her full attention back to an indigent Nic. 

Nic just shakes her head, drawing a hand down her face. “Whatever,” she mutters.

The rest of class passes as normal, when Dream starts telling Nic about her upcoming routine for the first football game of the season. She even draws out a few diagrams in the notebook she’s meant to be taking chem notes in, appreciative of Nic’s rapt attention.

When the bell rings, a shrill sound that makes Dream’s ears ache a bit, the two are quick to push their chairs back and collect their things. 

One more period, and they’re free.

Dream likes her English class, and her English teacher, but not their seating chart. The teacher had realized, after the first day, that Dream and Nic were not to be trusted to sit together, so Dream had been assigned a seat in the far back corner of the room, and Nic up at the front. 

It sours her good mood a bit to part ways, but it immediately brightens when she notices a girl in the seat that’d been empty for the first few weeks of year. She’s got dark hair and pale skin, and a pouty look on her face where she’s slumped at the desk.

“I like your shirt,” Dream says when she’s close, hovering in front of the girls desk and looking down at her with wide eyes. 

She glances down, as if reminding herself of what the aforementioned shirt is, before meeting Dream’s gaze with dark eyes. “Thanks,” she smiles, a small thing, and Dream’s heart beats harder for a moment. She loves making friends! “I cut it myself.” She sits up slightly, revealing that the shirt is indeed cropped, falling to just above her belly button. 

“That’s so cool,” Dream gushes, glancing disparagingly down at her own outfit. “I tried that once, but it came out all- weird. Like I didn’t cut it right. Maybe I need to try it again,” she smiles, finally moving to sit at her own desk but keeping her body fully facing the other girl. “What’s your name, by the way? I’m Dream.”

“Dream,” the girl says, her lips moving fully with each letter. “I like that. I’m George.”

It sends a little thrill down Dream’s spine, to see the way George tilts her dead defiantly, as if expecting Dream to push back against her name, or question it. Instead, she says-

“George, George, George,” drawing out the vowels like George had done for her name. It tastes like candy on her lips, addictive. “So cool. Are you new here?”

And that kicks off their conversation. They spend the entirety of English talking and talking, cursory glances to make sure they haven’t been caught the only attention they pay to the material. 

Dream learns that George is from London, that her family had only just moved and she’d had to start late. That she thinks Florida is nice, due to all the sun, and that she likes cats a whole lot. In turn, Dream tells her about her large family, her best friend Nic, and the cheerleading team. 

“Do you like cheerleading?” Dream asks tentatively, tapping her pencil against her thigh. “It’s okay if you don’t obviously, but I kind of talk about it a lot, so, sorry if you don’t.”

“I- I don’t really know?” George says, and Dream notices that her eyes are following the motion of the pencil. “We didn’t really have it at my old school.”

Dream gasps, affronted. “That’s terrible! You have to come to our practice tonight. We’re going through our whole routine, it’ll be like- like a little introduction! Just for you,” she beams, happy butterflies filling her stomach at the thought of George watching her perform. 

“Okay,” George says immediately, smiling right back. It’s at that moment, of course, that the bell rings again. Dream glances at the clock, surprised. It had felt like no time at all, but class really is over. George stands, the skin of her stomach shifting as she does. “See you there, then?”

Dream nods, jumping up from her own seat. “On the field! In an hour,” she adds, scribbling it down on a piece of paper to pass to George, along with the number of her Blackberry. “Text me if you get lost.”

George takes the paper when Dream offers it, their hands brushing in the process. George feels cold, and for a small moment, Dream is half tempted to offer up her jacket. But the moment passes, George tucking the paper into a pocket of hr dark jeans, waving over her shoulder as she leaves. 

Dream doesn’t even notice that she’s been rooted in the same spot, staring, until Nic appears at her side, flicking her shoulder. “Uh, Earth to Dream. Don’t you need to get ready for practice?”

--

George comes to practice that day, and the day after that, and every practice for the rest of the football season. She comes to all the games too, sitting in the same spot on the bleachers every time- the spot with the best consistent view of the cheer team. 

Dream always waves during practice, as many times as she can. It’s harder during games, with her mind entirely focused on the routine and everything she needs to do, but she always looks George’s way, and meets her after each and every game.

George doesn’t have a car- Dream is happy to drive her home. She only accepts half of the time, often citing that she enjoys the fresh air of walking home. Dream does her best to hide it, but George sees the way her face falls when she refuses

Tonight, after the final football game of the season, George accepts happily. It’s a chilly night in December, and she’s only wearing a jacket- Dream’s. It’s bright green, entirely outside of George’s usual range of colors but- it’s Dream’s.

Dream, the delightful idiot who still hasn’t realized she’s totally crushing on George.

It would be fun to watch, if George hadn’t fallen hopelessly in love with the other girl from the moment of their first meeting. Love is probably too strong a word, but she quite likes it. She spends way too much time just turning it over and over in her mind, Dream and love and love and Dream. 

Dream is fighting with the lock across from George as she stands, shivering, outside the passenger door. George doesn’t know how Dream isn’t cold- she’s still got her cheerleading outfit on, their school colors gaudy against her tanned skin, freckles spilling down her bare shoulders. George wants to touch.

Finally, the locks click open, and George is able to open her door, to slide into the roomy seats of Dream’s car. It’s not a particularly nice car, but George loves it because it smells like Dream. 

It also smells and looks a bit like George, a pair of George’s shoes stashed in the back seat, an empty can of her favorite soda left in the cupholder. George and Dream, Dream and George. As it should be.

Dream is smiling when George looks up, her green eyes bright with adrenaline. She’s told George a million times how much fun she has performing her cheer routines, how good she feels when they go off without a hitch. And tonight had been spectacular, even by George’s untrained eye- or, she supposes, her recently trained eye. An entire season of going to games to watch the pretty cheerleader you have a crush on will give you a good idea of the sport. 

“You did good,” George says, flinging her feet up on the dash. “The whole squad did. Everyone around me was super into it.”

Dream touches George’s shoulder for a moment, an excited little motion. She waves her hands as she explains, the car sitting idle as they talk late into the night, as the parking lot empties around them.

George is more than happy to watch her in all her excitement, the way she picks through every motion of the routine, every place she could have done better, every improvement the other girls had made. She’s critical, but encouraging. Sweet, but smart, and George can’t seem to look away from her plush lips. 

“Oh,” she says, after recounting the end of the game, when they’d rushed the field to celebrate. “Jimmy talked to me on the field.”

George wrinkles her nose. “What did he want?”

“He asked if I’d want to go out with him again. He said it just seemed right, since they’d just won,” Dream is growing slightly, and George hates it. Stupid Jimmy and his stupid ideas.

“And?” George prompts, swallowing back the pit of jealousy crawling up her throat, bitter. 

“I told him I was over him,” Dream says, the smile returning to her face, although it’s lost some of its luster. “That he and Tiffany are good for each other.”

“And you meant it?” George asks before she can stop herself, biting her lip as soon as the words have left her mouth. 

Dream’s eyebrows draw together, and her lips twist as she thinks. “I did, yeah,” she says at last. “I mean, obviously. I never really liked him that much. But why’d you ask?”

“Because he’s- y’know- the football star. Hottest guy in school,” she says the last part with a touch too much of the irony that dogs her words anytime she tries to talk about guys like the other girls do. “All the girls love him,” she tacks on, hoping to hide her stumble.

But Dream only meets her eyes with an oddly knowing gaze. But she ruins it when she says- “Well all the other girls haven’t had to kiss him. It’s like making out with a dog, all slobbery.”

“You’ve made out with a dog?” George asks, faux indignation punctuated by a dramatic raise of her hands to clutch at her heart. “That explains everything.”

“Ew- god no, shut up George, oh my god,” Dream stumbles, giggling. “It was a metaphor. Maybe if you paid any attention in English you’d get it.”

But George is already laughing, chest shaking with it. She has to bring her legs down to rest on the floor, doubling over as Dream continues to protest. They both quiet down after a long few moments, and George sits up to see Dream staring right at her, eyes wide. 

“What- Is there something on my face?” George asks, yanking down the mirror to check. 

“No, no,” Dream says, voice oddly pitched up. “It's just uh- you have a really nice laugh, George.”

George feels the blood flow to her cheeks, heating her face in an instant. “Oh, uh, thanks Dream. You too,” and now it’s her turn to stumble over the words, her eyes darting anywhere but Dream’s face.

“And you have nice hands,” Dream continues, like a dam has been opened. “Like, look, okay, hold yours up.” And Dream holds up a hand between them, fingers spread. George, entirely at her mercy, obeys, holding her hand up to Dream’s.

Her mouth waters when she sees the way her fingers are dwarfed by Dream’s, the way they fit together perfectly. It’s as if all function in her mind grinds to a halt, entirely focused on the point of contact. 

“Wow,” Dream breathes, seemingly in the same position as George. She bends the tips of her fingers so they fold over the top of George’s, only serving to further emphasize the difference. She’s so warm, and George is so gone. 

It’s a rash decision, to move her hand so that their fingers slide together, palms pressed together. It’s even better than before, all-encompassing and George has to bite back a squeak when Dream squeezes, as if testing something.

“This is nice,” Dream says at last, like nice is the sort of word that can encompass the thoughts racing through George’s mind, surely escaping her, projecting her feelings all over the small interior of the car. “Your hands feel so- so different from uh, Jimmy’s,” she says, and flexes her fingers again.

George takes a breath. 

“Good different?” George presses, already knowing the answer. She’s suddenly very aware of how alone they are, how empty the parking lot is. How no one would see if she leaned in, if they-

“Yeah. Really good,” Dream says. She lets her hand fall, drawing George’s with it, to rest in the space between them. And George can see her face again, the way pink dusts her cheeks, the way her pupils have doubled in size.

“Interesting,” George says, like she isn’t buzzing to take and take and take.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?” Dream asks suddenly, her eyes flicking to somewhere just over George’s head. “If you want to say, I guess. You just never really talk about dating, so I don’t know if you’re comfortable-”

“Nah,” George says, cutting her panicked ramble off and squeezing her hand comfortingly. “I was never really interested in-” boys “-dating.”

“Oh,” Dream tilts her head, as if considering. “So you’ve never- You’ve never kissed anyone before?”

George shrugs. “Uhm, I guess not.” She shifts in her seat, Dream’s gaze hot on her face. “And no, I haven’t kissed any dogs, before you ask.”

That gets a smile and a laugh out of Dream, and George relaxes marginally. Until, of course, Dream says-

“Do you want to try?” 

George blinks at her. Dream blinks back, her makeup somehow still perfect even after an entire cheer routine. Her lips are deliciously pink, and George knows she sees the way her eyes linger there.

“You’d let me?” George asks, breathless. It’s too open, too indicative of the unspoken truth of her existence but- It’s Dream. 

Dream’s throat bobs as she swallows. “I would. It’d be- fun. I think.”

“Okay,” George says.

“Okay,” Dream says.

And George leans in, disconnecting their fingers when she realizes the angle will be off. She sees the way Dream’s eyes flick to their separated hands, the small look of disappointment, before she’s leaning in too, eyes sliding shut. George keeps hers open until the last moment, until her lips touch Dream’s and the world vanishes around them.

It’s a sweet, gentle kiss. Dream, conscious of George’s inexperience, probably, barely moves, just letting the moment go on and on. George wants to live in it forever, but she also wants to move.

So she pulls back, but only just. Dream is slow to reopen her eyes, lips still parted as she stares and stares at George.

“Again?” George asks. Dream nods. “But- You can move this time, okay?” Their lips are nearly brushing already. “Show me.”

[hellcheeranniversaryweek]

1ST JULY

Decades: 1950s

Hot Spot: Hawkins High 1986 Prom

Song Request: I think we’re alone now - Tiffany

R Rated: Handcuffs

Wild card: Role Reversal

      WIP words: dress, tight, switch

2ND JULY

AU: Rival Families

A Classic Trope: Secret Admirer

Mash Up: Arranged marriage x fairytale

Future: Rockstar’s wife

Wild Card: Tragic Tale

      WIP words: match, against, famous

3RD JULY

Decades: 1960s

AU: Castle AU

Meet Cute: Comic Con 

Song Request: Heaven is a place on Earth - Belinda Carlise

Wild Card: What Goes Bump in the Night

      WIP words: wild, nerd, worth

4TH JULY

Mash Up: Witch x Coffee Shop

Hot Spot: Hawkins High Ten Year Reunion

R rated: Back of Eddie’s Van

Future: First baby

Wild Card: An Interfering Matchmaker

      WIP words: wicked, mattress, reunite

5TH JULY

Decades: 2000s

A classic trope: Only one bed

Song Request: Time after time - Cyndi Lauper

Hot Spot: The Hideout

Wild card: Outsider POV

      WIP words: waiting, pillow, drink

6TH JULY

AU: The Detective and the Thief

Meet Cute: Theater kids/the school play

Mash up: Class project x Miscommunication 

Future: Later in life

Wild Card: Double Date

     WIP words: scene, older, pencil

7TH JULY

Decades: 1990s

AU: Married in Vegas

R Rated: Praise Kink

Hot spot: Vacation

Wild Card: Anniversary

     WIP words: lights, celebrate, good

[adaines-furious-feast]

I have a Fantasy High OC that I think about a lot. Not as much as my Crown of Candy one, but a lot, and I thought I would share, undercut. 

Tiffany Rosestride, of the Rosestrides, the halfling bard family. If there is a halfling backing dancer, singer, musician, actor, they are part of Tiffany’s very large family. 

She has two older sisters and a younger brother and they are all in the arts. If there was a TLC channel in Elmville, this family would be on it. Tiffany’s mother is a dance mom and deeply, deeply disappointed that Tiff has precisely zero artistic talent. It’s embarrassing really.  

Her mother has kind of moved on from this disappointment. She’s really quite busy taking her other children to auditions and rehearsals ect. Tiffany spends a year at Mumple, doing Mumple stuff. Her mother kind of hopes it will give her some business sense so she can at least be a manager. 

But shortly before the summer of her freshman year, she develops magic. Tiffany is now a sorcerer and has no idea what to do about that. She’s enrolled at Augefort for the following year, so she has to retake freshman year but oh boy is it so different than her year at Mumple. She kind of hopes she can figure out why she has magic now, or at the very least how to control her magic. 

She gets detention on the first day by accidentally using grease to cause Goldenhoard to fall while he’s chasing after Riz.  

After the corn cuties fight, when the parents come to pick her up, her mother is the last to arrive because her brother had a call-back for some commercial and she didn’t want to leave him alone. They spend most of the ride home talking about that audition. 

Mrs Rosestride – her husband is on tour, so she’s kind of single-parenting this – is very excited to learn that Tiff is in a party with a bard, and she hopes it will rub off on her. The bard-ness doesn’t. The rebellion does. 

The Rosestrides must always look like stereotypical halflings. That’s the niche that has made their family famous and Tiff cannot let the family down. It’s all long curly hair, green and yellow dresses. The only thing not stereotypical are the heavy boots she wears because there are some *weird* fans that are obsessed with halfling feet and that’s something the family does not want getting out. If it’s not part of a performance, the boots need to be on. 

Tiff cuts her hair short and swaps the heavy boots for a pair of sneakers. She’s not ready to go complete barefoot just yet but wants something more comfortable. When her mother freaks out at the reveal at Solstice, the Thistlesprings step in (they are neighbours after all, and have been giving Tiff rides home from school).  

We see Tiffany’s mother actually realize what she’s done and try to turn things around/be there for her more.  

After the Sisterly Showdown, we find out she had a letter *the whole time* that her mother had put away and just forgotten about. The whole campaign there had been hints of shadowy figures watching the Bad Kids, and they assumed it was part of the Harvestmen, but they continue after the cult is busted. They’re actually members of the Order of Hospitaller, a group of spell casters committed to being a voice for the inn keepers and Mumple-People of the world, to hold adventurers somewhat accountable and stop them just going and looting a poor guy’s shop because they want to. And they’ve been waiting for her response about whether she will take up her oath this whole time. Tiffany immediately accepts. She’s been trying to be like “hey, why don’t we stop making fun of Mumple people” this whole time and is fully onboard with this. 

When they’re in prison, her mom contacts a lawyer but he’s an entertainment lawyer and really not very useful. Tiff does go and help her family though, and her little brother decides he doesn’t want to go to the special elite bard high school that their other two sisters go to, but wants to help people.  

Anyway, Prom goes down. And they all live happily ever after for nine months until spring break. 

[uraverageposhgrandmother]

9.7.2024 Weekly Reflection

hello! This week has been absolutely hectic because of school. All of my teachers decided to assign work due at the exact same time and tests done at the exact same times so...my weekly reflection has become weekly + four days reflection.

good things:

finished all my homework!

i cried because I thought I had failed my math test, but I ended up getting an A. Let's just hope the same thing happens with my physics test...

skin has been getting clearer. Clearly (ha, get the joke? no? well, alright, you unhumorous being...jk) my three-step routine works better than my five-step one. don't know if i should laugh or cry

18 day duolingo streak

getting around six hours of sleep per day, but I think that's pretty good...

not-that-amazing things:

piano practice still not where I want it to be. Didn't practice at all this week. I'm still getting used to the pace of my teachers and how much work I need to put into each class and look at me making excuses again

every day I'm reminded that, if you love something, there's always an asian kid who does it better than you. they say "social media is not real life" but I look all around me in real life and there are replicas of everything I want to be but can never be...everywhere. who needs social media when you can question your self-worth whilst simultaneously touching grass?

my cynicism got the best of me, again. As usual. I don't know if it's the school, the workload, the crying, the being sick, but I don't have it in me to be positive right now. I did say I'm working on being less judgemental of others and myself and, instead, focus on my own goals. So I guess the focus of the next week is just to forget about other people. So what if I'm mediocre at everything?

My mom always says, "if it's not contributing to your goal, then don't do it." Maybe I should practice working on that skill in the next three days before the next "weekly reflection"

songs of the week:

luv, q

"it's okay to not be fine" - MAMAMOO

[smallcatsims]

The teens head to prom. I bought the girls new dresses for their senior prom, and imo Evelina looks especially beautiful. The twins just have a lot of fun chatting with their friends, while Loki tries to flirt. He likes Maud and Tiffany the best.

[ramp-it-up]

ii Most Wanted Part 11: Till the Day I Die (2)

Bless the Broken Road

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: The wedding, along with the nerves, are here!

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, ANGST, FLUFF. Not much smut at all, sorry. 18 year olds heavy petting, teen hormones, talk of bad dreams, wedding day angst, thoughts of loss, lots of flufffff, 😊.

Sy and Buttercup get married! 👰🏾‍♀️🤵🏻‍♂️

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the 11th installment of II Most Wanted. These characters won't quit, so this series will be extended to at least 12 installments, but not for much longer than that. Here are the results from the wedding dress poll .

I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

May 2004

“We’re both grown ups now, Buttercup.”

Sy’s breath and smooth voice ghosted your ear as he mouthed at your neck and down your collarbone to the tops of your breasts that were threatening to come out of your bra. You shivered, causing him to pull back and check to see if you were cold because you had thrown off your t-shirt. When he saw your lust- dilated eyes, he was lost to your charms.

Sy could tell by your silence that you were in the same zone that he was in; you just couldn’t admit it.  He wondered if it was because you were trying to keep your purity, or that you wanted to give it away so badly that you couldn’t formulate words. He got impossibly harder at the thought of the latter. It was just a week after your birthday and two weeks to prom and Sy was back to begging.

He was so weak for you.

“You’re a good girl, I know it, Buttercup.”

You whimpered and kissed him hard, your lips sucking on his tongue while pulling him on top of you and between your jean-clad legs, making Sy realize that him calling you a good girl ignited something inside you. His heart pounded through his ribcage at your response.

When you parted, gasping for air, he moved again, bending his head to gently bite your nipple through your bra and continuing his assault on your mind as you ground on the bulge in his pants. Sy held your hips in his hands, slowing you down lest you cause him to make a mess in his pants.

The now familiar, alluring coil in your belly had been winding you up for a while and you were on the verge of risking it all to get some relief. You and Sy had been physical for weeks, but kissing and heavy petting was as far as it went. He would never allow you to go down on him, although you could tell he was holding back. 

His chivalry only made you want him more. But something was causing you to hesitate, despite the fact that Sy was delicious torture and temptation personified.

Tonight, however, he was begging. Artfully. And you were on the edge of giving him everything that he, and you, wanted.

“I have protection. We’ll be so careful, Buttercup. Nothing will happen. Except… except I’ll make you feel real good. I promise. Please.”

His hands moved up your torso, grasping your ribcage as he continued his rationale.

“You already know I’m gonna marry you, girl. It’s a done deal.”

You melted at his deep drawl in your ear, and his touch on your skin, but you chuckled at him, giving him pause.

“Sy…You couldn’t decide what you wanted for dinner. How do you know you want to spend the rest of your life with me? We’ve been together, what? Four months?”

Being the new girl sucked, but when your two new besties, Carla and Tiffani, ratted you out to Sy and gave him your number right after the homecoming dance when he broke up with Becca, you were mad. They had no right to tell your secret.

But you were pleasantly surprised and shocked as hell when he actually called you a week later. 

Everyone thought the pairing was odd; you were so different but shared the same heartbeat. You talked for hours about life, the universe, and everything, and you loved rolling through town in the passenger seat of Sy’s 1978 Ford Bronco with the loud muffler, making waves in the wind with your empty hand, your other hand on him. Sometimes you flipped off the haters that loved to talk shit, but mainly you just waved at those who stopped and stared.

You didn’t give a shit, and Sy didn’t either.

That’s why you loved him. People said you were too young, but yes. You were in love with Jake Syverson.

Even though you were lying In the bed of the Bronco with your shirt off, Sy stopped trying to get into your pants, shifted beside you and stared. Cerulean blue orbs held you captive.

“I knew what I wanted you the moment you walked into English class with that Powerpuff Girls shirt on and that scowl on your face. I knew you were mine. Trust me,  Buttercup. I know you feel it too. I’m yours. ‘Til the day I die.”

You shivered as you stared at him. You didn’t trust many people in your life, but if you trusted anyone, it would be Sy. You took a deep breath and searched his face for deception. It wasn’t there. He already had your soul; you were about to give him your body. 

Sy saw the moment you made your decision and was shook. This wasn’t going to be some simple fun in the back of Betty. This was forever. He considered you. The hot, innocent look of desire that made him rock hard also made him feel guilty. He knew what you’d been through and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you. Sy wanted this to be your decision, and you weren’t ready tonight before he sweet talked you. All of a sudden, it just didn’t seem right.  His hand came up and traced your cheek down to your lips.

“You’re so beautiful. I love you Buttercup.”

You flushed, and a warm sensation was building in your chest at his gentle whisper.

Is really this what true love felt like?

Before you could respond, Sy pulled you closer, and reached into the backseat for his letterman jacket to cover you from the chilly night air. 

He leaned down and kissed your forehead and nuzzled your hair as he held you close.

“Drivin’ me crazy, but I will wait forever for you, Buttercup.”

You melted into him when you realized that he was pumping the brakes. You soon noticed that he was still semi-hard beneath your thigh, which was thrown across his hips. You reached down to grasp him.

“Poor Sy…”

Sy caught your hand in his and interlaced his fingers with yours instead.

“Prom night?”

You nodded and bit your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. A low growl emitted from your boyfriend. 

“I must be really in love, ‘cause I just cock-blocked my damn self.”

You shook with laughter as Sy grumbled. He handed you your shirt back and took in what he could of your flesh as you covered up, licking his lips as he memorized you for when he was alone in his room later. 

You grinned at him.

“Maybe so, Captain Syverson.”

He smacked your bottom as you climbed back into the passenger seat. Sy loved it when you called him Captain.

He climbed out of the gate and stepped out into the chilly night to get back to the driver’s seat and took a deep breath, then shook his head as he looked up at the stars. Sy smiled at the thought of his grandmother’s ring.

Suddenly, a plan formed in his mind.

You and he would go to State, you with his ring, a promise, on your finger, and him with his heart on his sleeve. He’d propose with a rock the summer before senior year and marry you the week after college graduation, living happily ever after.

Sy grinned at the perfection of it all as he climbed back into the Bronco and gave you a kiss before he peeled off the Lookout.

—--

Sy woke up with a start the next morning. He looked around confused, not recognizing his surroundings as he tried to wake up fully. He hadn’t had a dream like it in months, since he was newly retired.

But this dream wasn’t about war; in this dream, he’d lost you again. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, regret about so much time was wasted swirling around him. Then he sighed and reached for his phone, finding a treasure trove of pictures of you and your friends. His heart rate calmed and his face cracked into a smile as he discovered that you had messaged him genuine joy. 

No use in mourning the past, Sy thought.

You’d stopped sending pictures around 11:56 pm, because it was your wedding day, you explained, and his heart exploded when he read that. 

You were still his girl, and he was gonna marry you.

He texted you good morning before he put down his phone and stared at the ceiling. 

It was his fucking wedding day.

Sy jumped out of bed and was on the road to Vegas by 6 am.

—-

The next afternoon after a 24 hour whirlwind of pure fun with your friends, you smiled up at the photographer as you carefully adjusted the lace garter around your leg.

You were in love with your dress, your shoes, and especially your hair. Tiffany had been right to encourage you to get a Vegas blowout. You felt like a model. The camera clicked away as you beamed into the lens.

“Beautiful, now let's get a shot with the bridesmaids.”

Carla and Tiffani gathered close and smiled. This intimate ceremony would be the perfect wedding for you and Sy. And that was all that mattered.

After the pictures, you got yourself from your suite to the limo just in time to make the booking at A Little White Wedding Chapel on the other end of the strip. You were serene, and happy that you didn’t need to stuff a monster gown into the car.

During the drive, you looked out of the window and remembered your mother, who had been alive at the time of your first wedding. You allowed yourself a moment of sadness.

Carla leaned over to you.

“We got your back if you want to run.”

You looked back at her and smiled. 

“It’s okay. Sy is who and what I want. I’m good. Really good.”

Tiffany spoke up. 

“Okay. Just remember, we’re always here for you.”

You became even more emotional.

“I know.” 

You smiled at both of them, near tears.

“But you better not make me ruin my makeup, bitches.”

You all laughed, the mood lightened.

—-

Jacob Syverson had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. 

He didn’t think it would come this soon. 

Or all this time later. 

Hell, there was a time that he never thought he’d see you again. 

He’d arrived at the chapel a little early, not wanting to wait to take you as his bride. As he got ready in the groom’s room, he eyed his blue checked sport coat and blue polka dot tie with matching pocket square that he had picked out. He knew that they brought out his eyes. He fiddled with his curls and smoothed down his beard, staring at himself in the mirror, almost in disbelief.

Was this really happening?.

From the moment he saw you when he was 17 years old, he’d wanted you to be his.

And now it was about to happen. 

Sy suddenly couldn’t breathe and he was weak, sweat popping out on his forehead. The tie was too tight. He loosened the tie and unbuttoned the top button of the shirt, hands seemingly a blur in the mirror. He shook his head to clear it, and looked back up into his own eyes long and hard, asking himself if he was really ready to be your husband.

He knew he wanted this, but today he was scared shitless.

—----

The doors of the chapel opened, and you stood around the corner, hidden from view as your friends preceded you down the aisle. You peeked around the corner to catch a glimpse of him at the end of the aisle, and saw a flash of blue at the altar.

There was Sy, so handsome in a blue sportcoat and polka dot pocket square, chuckling and shaking his head at something Carla did as she walked toward him, then he smiled wide at Tiffani. You straightened up when  his eyes found the closing doors, your heart pounded as you hid from his view.

Were you really going to do this?

—----

Sy’s throat went dry as he stared at the doors at the back of the chapel. His hands began to shake causing him to clasp them in front of him as he waited.

In a flash, the doors were open again and there you were a vision in satin and lace, but not a lot of it. The sun shone behind you and he nearly fainted as he admired the view through your dress.

You glowed like an angel.

You paused and the music began. He barely registered the familiar notes of the song because suddenly, his head was swimmy again. 

He took a deep breath and got himself together, staring at you wide eyed as you slowly moved toward him, with that smile on your face.

At that moment, there was only one woman in the world, and you were walking toward him.

—--

The doors of the chapel opened again and you had tunnel vision for Sy at the end of the aisle. Your heart leapt in your throat and you tried to swallow it down when all you could hear were the opening notes of the music you and Sy claimed as your song all those years ago. 

You didn’t realize how much more accurate the lyrics were twenty years later.

I set out on a narrow way many years ago

Hoping I would find true love along the broken road

But I got lost a time or two

Wiped my brow and kept pushing through

I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

You smiled and paused, eyes having found Sy’s and locked in. You were trembling and took a deep breath before walking toward him. 

—---

It seemed that you moved toward him in slow motion, and Sy felt that he was in a dream, staring at you in disbelief. There you were, all long, flowy hair around your shoulders and that satin baby doll dress with lace trim adorning your curves perfectly. 

Sy gazed at you, taking you in from your cute white toenails in your high heeled sandals up those curvaceous legs and thighs to the short, flowy skirt that swished around the swell of your hips to the fitted waist. He licked his lips as he hallucinated seeing your nipples through the rushed satin bust of the bodice, and almost passed for the third time when one of the lace straps fell down your shoulder. 

The dress was everything, and he was gonna make love to you in it later on.

His eyes moved upwards, reading the name on the gold necklace that was his gift to you, and that was nestled on your chest. Sy looked back up at you smiling knowingly back at him, and suddenly, he was calm although there were tears streaming down his face.

That every long lost dream led me to where you are

Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars

Pointing me on my way into your loving arms

This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road

That led me straight to you

—---

As you moved, speeding down the aisle it seemed, you realized that you were smiling through your own tears. Sy broke your heart once, but you both were idiot kids in love, and who knows if you would have made it that young anyway?

The way this happened was meant to be, this moment was perfect, and it was now.

—--

I think about the years I spent just passin' through

I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you

But you just smile and take my hand

You've been there, you understand

It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

It seemed like it would take ten more years for you to reach him at the altar and Sy felt a pang of regret at the lost time. But then he remembered that you were walking towards him, right here, right now. You were choosing him. The past was over. It was time to make a new future.

—--

You floated down the aisle, and in no time you were standing beside Sy at the altar, no recognition of how you arrived in this instant bubble between you two. 

Sy stared at you, as if surprised to find you there, then smiled as you wiped his tears away with your fingers.

“Hi,” you whispered, smiling as Sy chuckled and took his pocket square out to dab at your face. 

“You look so handsome.”

Sy smiled, wanting to take you in his arms.

“Hey, Buttercup. You look gorgeous.”

You shivered as his eyes assessed you, your belly flipping as his gaze covered your entire form. You grew warm and wanted to kiss him, but he gave you a look and you decided to behave.

He held his hand out for yours, eyes sparkling.

The electricity that buzzed around you when you were near him was back, and you knew that you wanted this feeling forever. Sy’s patient gaze made you smile wider at how much he loved you. 

In that instant, you knew beyond a doubt.

You stared at him, taking in his face, the woodsy scent of his cologne, how huge he was in front of you. Then you sighed, nodded (to yourself really) and gave Sy your hand, which he held in his and caressed with his thumb. Shivers ran down your spine, yet you managed to stay upright.

—--

And now I'm just a-rollin' home

Into my lover's arms

This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road

That led me straight to you

The officiant cleared their throat and you all looked their way.

“Have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage today?"

Sy answered first, smiled, looked at you and said,  “Yes.”

You smiled back and without hesitation, said, “Yes.”

“Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before these witnesses.”

Everyone laughed because you were already holding hands. 

You wrote your vows together, so you knew what was coming. But you weren’t ready. The tears started again.

Sy spoke, his voice never wavering.

“I take you Y/N Y/LN  to be my wife. I promise to be with you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. I promise to take care of you and to share with you and be straight with you and to always shelter you with my love. I will always come after you and I will always help you to look up when you are feeling down. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.

Until the day I die.”

Your eyes overflowed, but you remained strong.

“I, Y/N Y/LN, take you, Jacob Allen Syverson to be my husband. I promise to be with you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. I promise to care for you and be straight with you and to share with you and to always shelter you with my love. I will not seek to run from you and I will always hold you down while you lift me up. And I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. Until the day I die.”

Sy grinned at you and your stomach flipped with excitement as Carla and Tiffani awwed.

The officiant continued.

“You have declared your consent before these witnesses. What has been joined together, let no man divide. May these rings be a symbol of your true faith in each other, and always remind you of your love.”

You turned to Carla for Sy’s ring, a simple gold band, and you slipped it on his finger. Sy turned to Tiffani and your eyebrow shot up as she reached into a pocket in her dress and handed him a black box. Out came his grandmother’s ring, only now there was another ring that was paired with it, beautifully heavy with diamonds.

Your mouth hinged open in shock.

Sy was grinning at your reaction as he slid the rings onto your finger, pretty pleased with himself you could tell.

“Told you I would marry you with a bigger ring than that. Told you that a long time ago.”

He looked up at you with those baby blues and winked at you as your knees got weak. You looked around at your friends who were obviously in on it.

“Don’t worry, they’re conflict-free.” 

Carla stage whispered and everyone laughed as you shook your head and held your hand up to the light before Sy captured it in his own again. He was feeling like the man at that moment, and you almost forgot there was anyone else in the room as you gazed up at him. Electricity zapped between you, and you were ready to take him down.

The officiant cleared their throat again.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” 

There was a pause as you both looked at them with anticipation. They smiled back, knowing what you wanted.

“You may now kiss your bride!”

Sy let out a whoop and pulled you in for a kiss, taking you into a dip and causing hoots, hollers, and cheers.

“May I now introduce Mr. Jacob and Mrs. Buttercup Syverson!”

You burst out into laughter as Sy led you back down the aisle, fingering the gold name necklace which said ‘Mrs. Buttercup.’

[fanficwriter284]

I actually have my own idea for this but I wanna see yours!! How about a teen!chiffany fic where it's prom night for them?

OOoooO!!!!!!!!!! NOW, THIS......THIS IS CUTE!!!!! I'd love to read yours!

Chucky stared in the mirror for 10 whole minutes. He was continuous, adjusting his bow tie. Trying to find a way to distract himself from the task at hand. It was prom night. Tiffany had been looking forward to the day ever since the date was announced....him on the other hand. A nervous wreck. He was never the best with this sort of thing. The ticking from the clock on his nightstand irritated him with each progressive tick growing louder and louder. He silenced it making sure no sound came from the clock. He did one final bow tie readjustment before heading out. He turned back looking for his mom to say goodbye and that he'll be back soon.... however, his thoughts snapped back to reality when he remembered that she was in the hospital. He let out a long sigh and shut the door behind him walking to the school in his freshly pressed suit. It fit nicely against him as the made his way to the school. With each step, he grew more and more anxious and fiddled with the sides of his suit to distract himself. Noticing how close he was getting to the building he felt his heart pounding against his chest, now tugging at his collar to release some tension. With one final tug he entered the building, greeted was loud music, several students dancing and others drinking punch...however Chucky assumed that it had most likely been spiked, judging by the crowd.

He helped himself to the snack bar grabbing mini sandwiches to satisfy the hunger within him. He jolted when he felt someone tap his shoulder from behind. He turned over to see who it was but was greeted with the sight of no one. Chucky raising an eyebrow smirked and took another bite of his sandwich.

"I know it's you Tiff"

"Hehe!! Surprise!!! What do you think of my dress?"

Chucky nearly choked on the sandwich, he studied her, looking at the dress. The vermillion color, it nicely shaping her, and the flowing ends of it. Her blonde hair brushed back slightly curling behind her ears, making her emerald earing pop and seem to glow. Her makeup was applied to make her look even more flawless and beautiful. Chucky was left speechless.

"W---wow........"

Tiffany giggled to herself and took a look at her date. His suit, fitted against him, giving his upper body some shape, his hair was short and combed backward giving him more of a sophisticated look. Tiffany grinned at this and ran her manicured nails through his hair ruffling it a bit. Giving it that puffy look she loved. She took him by the hand and dragged him to the dance floor, Chucky reluctantly trailing behind. She grabbed the side of his suit and simply held him close. The two of them waltzed together, in sync with the hypnotic melody.

"You look handsome tonight"

"T--Thanks you too.....wait....I mean..."

Tiffany giggled burring her face into his chest. He never ceased to make her laugh.

"I mean you look beautiful tonight"

"Thank you Sweetface"

Their fingers interlocked with one another, as they dance, Tiffany resting her face on his chest, listening to the thumping of his heart.

"Hey Chucky?"

"Yeah?"

She tilted her head up, her coffee-brown eyes locking with his baby-blue ones. She caressed the side of his cheek and pulled him close for a kiss, shutting her eyes, and feeling Chucky smiling while they kissed. Chucky ran his hands at her sides pulling her in a little tighter, with one of his hands in her hair lightly running his fingers through it. Neither of them wanted to break the kiss. However, both were in sync and parted, resting their heads against each other.

"Hey excuse me? Would you two like a photo?"

Tiffany nodded her head, and Chucky responded with a light head nod. They posed, Tiffany resting her head on Chucky and Chucky with his arm around her waist.

"Ok, 3 2 1, got it! Enjoy the rest of the night!"

"Thank you"

"Thanks"

Tiffany tugged at his side and motioned for them to both resume their dance. Together embracing dancing, the night away.

[solarpunkjesusfan]

In order to save the princess you have to disguise yourself as a teen and go to the Prom. But you aren’t getting in without a date who actually goes to the school. You approach a group of students. Another member of your party assigns them numbers 1-20 and puts the numbers in a hat. The number you draw is the one you must ask to prom.

Roll a d20 to see who you ask

1. Jimbob the Teifling. He just got his driver’s license!

2. Betty the bard with a bucket hat

3. JT. They’re dad is the owner of the local super market

4. Carlos the Orc Druid. He’s new in town

5. Duchess Vanessa. She’s the princess’s cousin and is super jealous of her

6. Gooobydoob 6’5” tall human raised by kobolds. Can speak 6 languages

7. Enoby D’arkness Dementa Raven Way. She’s goffic

8. Apples the talking horse. She’s the class valedictorian and her dad is in jail for arson.

9. Chris. He’s flattered but politely declines because he’s already going with Tiffany. Roll again.

10. Tiffany. She already said yes to Chris but doesn’t tell you that because she would rather go with you because she was only going with Chris to make Carlos jealous, and she thinks you would make him more jealous. Meanwhile Carlos is completely oblivious to the fact that Tiffany has a crush on him. Which is probably for the best. Carlos has a crush on Ursula, but is too shy to admit it.

11. Ursula, the bug bear with great hair

12. Mike and Ezekiel, they are already going together but are open to a 3rd. (They only have one number because your friend didn’t see Ezekiel. He is wearing a very effective camouflage jump suit)

13. Marsha. She’s actually best friends with the princess and would be invaluable for your mission. The only problem, her parents are super strict and have forbid her from going to the dance. She accepts your invitation on the condition that you can break her out of the house and provide a prom dress. (All her dresses are little house on the prairie style)

14. Jacque the elvin jock. He’s the quarter back of the football team and his dad is the cop that put Apples’ dad in jail for arson.

15. Bryce. He gave everyone lice. In fact he did so twice. What an unfortunate roll of the dice.

16. Lord flip flop. King of the waves.

17. Rocko. Sells drugs to all the teachers.

18. Hyacinth. Shortest of her 11 siblings at only 10’9”, this giant barbarian is a (not so) huge disappointment to her family. She was also an unknowing accomplice in the arson that landed Apples’ dad in jail.

19. Beck. They were going to skip the prom to instead do a pop up art show featuring their art series entitled “lawfulness by definition is never neutral. a retrospective of systemic genocide of halflings and kobolds by creating strategic laws that codified pitting the two races against each other by the corrupt government of king Victor-Justin XI from the years 76899 to 76904 inclusive” the art itself consists of discarded wooden bowls from Red Oak Tavern, all painted with concentric circles in neon orange. But Beck likes your aura enough to go to the prom with you and re schedule the art show for next weekend.

20. Lucy. Her mom is the janitor. She stole a key ring with all the keys to all the rooms in the school ages ago. Her mom still has no idea. She’ll let you into any room in the school for a stick of gum. Or even for free if she thinks it’s funny enough. She just likes chaos.

[blini-fashion-house]

TIFFANY from our " La Jolie " Collection, for a sophisticated bombshell look .. 💣

https://www.bliniofficial.com/collections/la-jolie/products/tiffany-opulent-embroidered-lace-sleeveless-prom-dress

[saleintothe90s]

472. That time "Luann" had a user submitted fashion show (March, 1995)

Originally, this was supposed to be an entry about when Luann's crush for life, Aaron Hill moved away to Hawaii. I swear I remember reading those strips as a teenager. NO. Turns out that happened in 2004 when I was 21 years old. Maybe I was thinking about the scroll, because that definitely happened when I was in 8th grade back in 1997. Luann gave Aaron this scroll of their timeline together for Valentines Day one year, and it totally wasn't creepy at all:

Oh wait what did I want to talk about? The fashion show that I still remember like it was last week:

In January of 1995, Luann broke the fourth wall and asked for designs for the school fashion show. Fans had a month to submit entries.

Way back in 2000, the official Luann site had a section about the fashion show. From creator Greg Evans:

I always liked the idea of involving readers in my strip. In early '95, I took that notion to its extreme: asking readers to send in their own fashion drawings with a chance to see their work reproduced in Luann.

On Jan.14, 1995, after doing a sequence about an upcoming school fashion show, I put a call for entries in the strip. I had no idea how many - or how few - entries I'd get. I wondered if a fashion design contest would leave all my male readers cold. 

About a week later, the drawings started coming in - up to 800 in one day. In the end, about 3,000 people sent drawings - 15,000 drawings in all. 

And they were from age 5 to age 97, male and female. I got everything from crayon scrawls on paper towels to full color computer renderings. I got whole classrooms that sent drawings. I got photos of people wearing fashions they'd created and made. I even got patterns so I could make them myself. I got many drawings that were elegant, some that were bizarre, several that were funny and a few that were, well, unprintable. 

Then, with terrific support from my syndicate, we did something that had never been done before: I produced 4 different versions of the week's worth of reader drawings so they could be "zoned" to where the reader lived. Thus, people in the Northeast saw strips featuring drawings by people in their area. People in the Southwest saw their drawings, etc. By doing this, we were able to show 4 times as many drawings. We also notified the local papers and, in several cases, they did articles on their hometown fashion designer.

I was not aware that they were four separate strips that week! I wanted to do some comparisons from my local paper (Daily Press) and the Luann site, but my newspaper is missing three days. HOW. Who hurt you, microfilm?

I went into my Google Newspapers bookmarks and only a couple carried Luann at the time, and they were the exact strips that are on the Luann website. I wonder now if the zones didn't happen and Greg just misremembered.

Oh LOOK, there's a Susan Smith Funky Winkerbean strip on the first day of the fashion show. Susan (we all remember Susan) wanted some alone time with Mr. Moore. Oh, did y'all know that Funky Winkerbean is ENDING at the end of the year?! I'm heartbroken. What am I supposed to make fun of now.

Can't you totally see Gunther would wearing this to prom?

Dang, Mr. Fogarty looking good!

Ok, Delta's ski outfit might be my favorite.

For a second I thought that Brad was dressed as a baseball player.

Tiffany is sporting that "Sophie B. Hawkins in the "Damn, Wish I Was Your Lover" music video look. Remember, the outfit that kinda looked like a diaper?? And MTV wouldn't run the video apparently?

Okay, so there was always this long running joke that Aaron Hill barely knew Luann existed--but yet they were pretend bride and groom for the fashion show. I know he's a teenage boy, but how could he forget that??

Also, I totally imagine this dress having pink accents.

Another strip moment I vividly remember also happened that week: when Curtis' mother was attacked by a robber and wound up having a miscarriage:

That was upsetting.

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[jaimee2001]

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