If you didn't have to make the costume, what would you dress as at halloween?
Apologies if the code doesn't work, this is me doing my best to be freaky
You can dress up as anything for Halloween, what do you go as?
I'd love to go as the crow
Movie Script: Please Read
Short Chapter Idea That I Need Votes For
"Do I have to go?" The female brunette whined as she tugged on the strap of her glittery green dress. It flowed to the floor and had a slit in the leg that reached farther than her knee. It left her back bare and instead, had rippling fabric pooling at her arse. The cut for the bust was low, but didn't reveal too much. It also had a thick black belt. The whole dress hugged her frame perfectly.
Originally, it had belonged to Mary Jane Watson, or MJ. But the beautiful evergreen clashed with her fiery red hair. So, Pep got the hand-me-down. But it was a beautiful hand-me-down.
"Yes!" Her girlfriend hissed as she harshly tugged a lock of dark auburn hair, only to pin it back.
The younger girl glared at her best friend through the mirror, but huffed as the redhead reporter let out a pleased mewl and stepped back, grinning. "Done!" She beamed proudly.
Dark green eyes looked at her reflection before a gasp escaped her plump lips and her plucked eyebrows rose to her hairline. Pale powder defined her high cheek bones, black eyeliner and eyeshadow made her sparkling dark green eyes pop, not that they didn't already, and crimson red was painted across her lips. Her hair was pulled back into a half ponytail. Causing her hair to mimic that of a waterfall as thick, dark auburn locks fell across her back and shoulders, little strands framed her thin face.
She was a thing of dreams.
"Whose she?" She blurted out, obviously impressed.
MJ's grin widened before she checked the time. "Crap!" She cursed before running out of the room to finish getting ready.
A few minutes passed, leading Peter Penny Parker, or more commonly know by her friends as Pep, to quietly admire herself in the full body mirror. She noted the fact that MJ had made her look older. Instead of looking like a nerdy 16 year old girl in an expensive dress, she matured, with the help of the bra pads, into a gorgeous 20 year old woman.
You see, Pep's Highschool had won a football game, finally, and Harry decided it was an occasion worth celebration. The eccentric redhead was all too quick to agree, but it was the youngest of the trio that was more unsure. Eventually, they coaxed her into celebrating with them... which she immediately regretted. Turns out, Harry was planning to take them clubbing, at the fanciest club around and completely ignore that fact that they were underage, to cut loose. For some reason, Pep reluctantly agreed...
...But if anyone mentions the fact that they slipped something into her smoothie, they would completely deny it.
"You look amazing." Was the soft whisper from behind her.
Looking up in the mirror, she smiled at the figure standing in her doorway, "You look handsome too." She complimented as she looked him up and down. Her wore a nice black suit and tie with a gray undershirt.
Harry smiled, smug that he could make her cheeks heat so much that they resembled the color of her lipstick. Standing behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. He was taller than her by 3 inches, which was enough to be able to hold her tiny frame.
Seconds ticked by before Harry slowly pulled away and turned her to face him. Their faces were inches apart as their eyes darted from each others lips, eyes, then lips again. Harry edged closer and-
"'Kay guys! I'm ready!" MJ yelled from the hallway.
At supernatural speeds, the two teens pulled away and stood 2 feet apart, flushed as their best friend entered the room in a dark red, knee high, deep cut dress.
Quick to avoid the incoming questions, Pep spoke first, "MJ, you look gorgeous!"
MJ's nose twitched, but she followed along and thanked Pep.
The trio made their way out of Pep's house, after bidding Aunt May goodnight, and entered Harry's limo. The drive to the club was lively, as if nothing had happened.
The vechile came to a stop before the group filed out of the limo and into a long line. Miraculously, they managed to cut the line and enter the club, with the help of their fake ID's, without trouble.
The friends ordered drinks, though Pep never got half way through with hers, before Harry became sick. MJ left her alone to help him in the bathroom, but not before telling her, "Stay here and enjoy yourself. At least one of us should." Pep wanted to object, but MJ gave her one of the looks that said your life would be infinitely better if just kept your mouth shut.
Sighing, she nodded her head and leaned against the counter, stirring the acholic beverage, she forgot the name, in her hands.
The bright lights and blaring music blinded her from noticing the tall man making his way towards her. It wasn't until it was too late and he was standing beside her that she noticed his presence.
"Hello beautiful." He greeted, giving her a toothy grin.
Pep noticeably flinched as her head snapped to face him. Her wide eyes widened more as she realized who had just greeted her.
Tony. Fucking Stark.
TONY FUCKING STARK!!
Tony grinned at her reaction and handed her a drink, "Try this."
It was a pink beverage, with cherries in it.
She looked at the drink in his hand, not even realizing he had ordered one, before placing hers down and taking it. Placing the glass to her lips, she took a large sip and pulled the glass away, leaving lipstick marks.
(A/N: This is exactly what you should NOT do when in a bar or club. If some random guy, no matter how populuar... or hot... or sexy.... or- I'm getting of track, but no matter how famous they may be, you never know if they drugged it or something. So, in short, just like a kid shouldn't accept candy from strangers, an adult should not accept drinks from strangers at bars. 'Kay. I'm done.)
Her face contorted into a strange look as she smacked her lips, "It's... Sweet. Really sweet." After a moment of rolling her jaw, she finalized, "I like it." She said, grinning as she faced him.
"Good. I knew you'd like it. I figured your a sweet person." He shot with his award winning, sometimes literally, smirk.
Pep's cheek heated farther to once again match her lipstick. "T-thank you, Mr. Stark." She stuttered in a quiet voice, looking down at the ground.
He chuckled deeply, a melodious sound, before he replied, "Mr. Stark? Please, call me- Oh." He grumbled as his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looked like he was about to ignore it, but saw the ID. Rolling his eyes, he looked back up at her and smiled, "I'll be right back. Okay? Will you stay here?" He asked, his eyes pleading as if he was a puppy.
Biting her lip, she shrugged, "I promised I'll stay." She said softly.
He grinned before walking into the crowd.
A few seconds went by before she heard her ringtone. Pulling her phone out of her purse, she saw a text.
-Harry's feling a lil betr. I can finally Carey him 2 the car witout hum puking ALL over me... in short,⌚2 go.-
Pep smiled slightly at MJ's semi-long text before frowning as she remembered her promise. Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked around then back at her phone and began typing.
-can I stay? I met some 1.-
-squeals FINALLY YO INTERACTING EITH SOMEONE OTHER THAN US AND TMSOMETHING OTHER THAN SCHOOL PAPARR!!!! AAAGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!-
Pep rolled her eyes at that, but she couldn't hold back the small laugh.
- So can I stay?-
-😑 I didn't type all that just to say no. Yes, you can stay. B careful tho.-
Pep grinned with enthusiasm.
-No prob. Love ya, Harry says so 2... and 2 wear protection.-
Pep rolled her eyes, deciding to not acknowledge the sexual comment and just say bye.
-💙❤💙 u guys 2.-
Pressing the off button on the side of her phone, she pushed it back into her purse and took another sip of her drink before Tony Stark came back out of the crowd.
He grinned at her wolfishly, to which she looked down and shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her pierced ear.
"You stayed!" He declared, to which Pep nodded smally. "Hey, you wanna come to the tower? It's a bit more quiet there."
Pep's eyes blew wide at the thought of visiting the inside of the Avengers Tower.
She nodded quickly, to which Stark chuckled.
Taking her hand, she blushed of course, he weaved them in and out of the crowd before they came outside. With a few motions of his hands, he was covered in his armor. Turning to her, he spoke, "C'mere."
Slowly, she came close and let him hug her before she let out a shrill, but short scream, and held onto him for dear life, quite literally.
They flew over the city, the lights looked beautiful in contrast to the pitch black night.
After a few silent minutes, they landed on the balcony of the Avengers Tower. She stepped aside as he slightly nudged her before a machine came out of the ground and removed his suit. It looked incredibly complicated.
A second later, he held her hand as he led them inside, out of the cold night air. He led them through the living room and kitchen, but only made it to the hallway before Tony turned to her.
Somehow, slowly, but also quickly, his hands came to the sides of her face. He inched closer before laying a lustful kiss onto her soft, red, plump lips.
To Pep, it felt amazing. Though, internally, as she melted into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned, she screamed that this was her first kiss.
Tony. Fucking Stark.
TONY FUCKING STARK!!
Stole her first kiss. And she was entirely fine with that.
The kiss was warm and rough as he licked her lip for entrance, to which she quickly gave. He lightly nipped her bottom lip before exploring. His lips were rough yet soft, and he tasted like alcohol, coconut, and metal.
Her hands tangled into his brownie cokored hair as his arms crawled down her face and to her back, to which he rubbed before lightly pulling on the strap of her dress
Immediately, red alarms went off in Pep's head. It wasn't until both straps were off her shoulders and he was trying to take it off her arm completely, that she pulled back and laid her forehead against his, "W-wait." She stuttered softly, inhaling deep breaths.
He looked worried as he peered into her dark green eyes and asked, "What?"
She bit her bottoms lip as tears welled up, /He'll be furious./ She thought.
She inhaled deeply before speaking, "I-I can't. I'm only 16."
That was the soft whisper that caused Tony Stark to step back. His face was blank as he stared at her, before it morphed into horror, surprise, then amusement. He smirked as he shook his head, "Well, I've done weirder things in my teens." He chuckled.
Curiously, and still a bit worried, Pep mumbled, "Your not mad?"
"No. Completely fine... We just won't be able to do some of the stuff I had planned for tonight, and tomorrow morning... And evening." He joked.
A blush crawled up Pep's cheeks at the sexual comment, but nodded.
"But, that won't ruin our night. You wanna see my suits?"
Her eyes light up immediately as she tossed her head up and down, furiously.
He chuckled at her excitement before taking her hand and pulling her down to his workshop. Upon entering, she gasped in amazement. It was a nerd paradise. All the tools, materials, and equipment she could ever need, all in one room.
Walking over to a contraption, that this author will never know how to build, she told him what it was.
He rose an eyebrow and nodded, impressed.
She ran around the room, labeling equipment before, in her excitement, she ran into Stark. "Oh, sorry." She laughed nervously, noticing his warm hands that held her arms to keep her from falling
"It's fine." He smiled before guiding her to one of his many workbenches and setting her down. He began the exciting process of explaining parts of his suit to her, his prototypes, and the such.
She took it all in stride, much to the surprise of Stark. Of course, there were a few materials that she was not familiar with, but other than that, she impressed and intrigued the multi-millionaire, playboy, philanthropist.
... This happened a year ago. I'm now 17, and living the life.
A/N: So, this is basically a introduction, or trailer, to a possible story that I'm thinking about writing on another site called Wattpad(Username: Lil-Loki). I have some of the plot down, but I'm tweaking on relationships.
Warning, this is officially NOT a fem!Peter x Harry fanfiction. I swear on a lot of dead family and friends' graves, it is not. I'm still working on the relationships, so this could be a fem!Peter x Loki, x Steve, or even x Bucky. So... Ya...
Anyway, the point of me writing this and showing it to you, is that I want you to decide on whether or not this would make a good story. I'd like you to read this and tell me if it is story material and if it could mature into a full blown fanfiction.
Also, this is my writing, so please do not copy this. As crappy as it is, and as inexperienced as I am, being 12, I like how I wrote this, compared to previous attempts, and would not appreciate it if you decided to copy this and claim it as your own. So please don't. Thank you.
Do you think that the clothes we wear reflect what is inside us ?
For me it reflects my mood for dressing up that day...there are only two ways i dress up good or bad😓
ANOTHER NATIONAL DAY FOR YOUUUU
So hey again, soooo today is national dress your pet up day, im not gonna lie thats a pretty cool national day. but if i did dress my dog up he'd probably kill meh sooo yeh... again just thought you should knowwww :)
That Time My Daughter Talked to a Stranger.
The day before my daughter Norah’s fourth birthday, she foreshadowed a remarkable event.
I’d just picked her up from preschool when she cautioned me to mind the elderly person walking across the parking lot at a glacier’s pace.
She went on to explain that she has a soft spot for mature folks: "I like old peoples the best ‘cos they walk slow like I walk slow and they has soft skin like I has soft skin. They all gonna die soon so I’m gonna love ‘em all up before they is died."
Sure it got kinda weird and dark at the end there, but I liked where her heart was.
I was struck by her thoughtfulness and empathy and posted that quote as a status update on Facebook when we got home. I had no idea how much she really meant it.
The following day — her birthday — again on the way home from school, she asked if we could stop at the grocery store to buy celebratory cupcakes for her and her six siblings to enjoy after dinner.
How do you say “No” to a birthday girl?
I popped Norah and her younger sister in one of those enormous and cumbersome grocery carts shaped like a car and headed toward the bakery. After we picked up the cupcakes, I stopped at a ‘Clearance’ shelf that caught my eye. While I was distracted picking up and then dismissing the bottles of almost expired Ranch dressing and cans of Ensure, Norah was busy standing up in the cart, excitedly waving and gleefully proclaiming, “Hi old person! It’s my birfday today!”
The man was elderly, stone-faced, and furrow-browed. However, before I could “Shush” her for calling him an “old person” or ask the Earth to swallow me whole, he stopped and turned to her.
If he was troubled by my no-filter-having child, he didn’t show it. His expression softened as he replied, “Well hello little lady! And how old are you today?”
They chatted for a few minutes, he wished her ‘Happy Birthday,’ and we went our separate ways.
A few minutes later, she turned to me and asked, “Can I take a picture with the old man for my birfday?” It was the cutest thing ever and, although I wasn’t sure if he’d oblige, I told her we’d certainly ask.
We found the man a couple of aisles over and I approached him. “Excuse me, sir? This is Norah and she’d like to know if you’d take a photo with her for her birthday?”
His expression rapidly morphed from confused to stunned to delighted.
He took a step back, steadied himself on his shopping cart, and placed his free hand on his chest. “A photo? With me?” he asked.
“Yes, suh, for my birfday!” Norah pleaded.
And so he did. I pulled out my iPhone and they posed together. She placed her soft hand on top of his soft hand. He wordlessly stared at her with twinkling eyes as she kept his hand in hers and studied his skinny veins and weathered knuckles. She kissed the top of his hand and then placed it on her cheek. He beamed. I asked his name and he told us to call him “Dan.”
We were blocking other shoppers and they didn’t care. There was magic happening in the grocery store that day and we could all feel it. Norah and Mr. Dan sure didn’t notice they were chatting away like long lost friends.
After a few minutes, I thanked Mr. Dan for taking the time to spend a bit of his day with us. He teared up and said, “No, thank YOU. This has been the best day I’ve had in a long time. You’ve made me so happy, Miss Norah.”
They hugged again and we walked away. Norah watched him until he was out of view.
I’d be lying to you if I told you I wasn’t a weepy mess after their encounter.
I was blown away by this meeting and thought maybe some of the readers on my Facebook page might enjoy hearing about it.
I posted the story and a photo of the two of them.
Later that night, I received a private message from a local reader who recognized Mr. Dan.
His wife, Mary, had passed away in March and he had been lonely since his beloved had gone. She wanted to let me know that she was certain his heart was touched by my little girl. That he needed it and it likely would never forget it.
I asked for his phone number and called him a few days later.
We made a visit to Mr. Dan’s cozy and tidy house — reminders of Mary still proudly displayed everywhere you look. He had gotten a haircut, shaved, and was wearing slacks and dress shoes. He looked ten years younger. He’d set out a child’s table, blank paper, and crayons out for Norah. He asked if she’d draw some pictures for him to display on his refrigerator. She happily agreed and went right to work.
We ended up spending nearly three hours with Mr. Dan that day. He was patient and kind with my talkative, constantly moving girl. He wiped ketchup off of her cheek and let her finish his chicken nuggets.
As we walked him to his front door after lunch, he pulled out a pocket knife a cut the single red rose blooming by his porch. He spent ten minutes cutting every thorn off of the stem before handing it to his new friend. She keeps that rose, now dry as a bone, in a Ziploc bag under her pillow.
Norah asks about Mr. Dan every day. She worries about him. She wonders if he’s lonely, or cold, or has cheese for his sandwiches. She wants him to be okay. She wants him to feel loved.
Mr. Dan thinks about Norah, too. After another recent visit, he relayed that he hadn’t had an uninterrupted night’s sleep since his wife died. He told me that he has slept soundly every night since meeting my girl. “Norah has healed me,” he said.
That left me speechless and my cheeks wet with tears.
Seventy-eight years separate these two people in age. Somehow, their hearts and souls seem to recognize each other from long ago.
Norah and I have made a promise to see Mr. Dan every week — even if it’s only for fifteen minutes, even if only for a quick hug and to drop off a cheese danish (his favorite!).
I’ve invited him to spend Thanksgiving with us. He’s part of our family now. Whether he likes it or not, he’s been absorbed into my family of nine and just like Norah said, “we’re gonna love him all up.”
Sometimes talking to strangers can lead to beautiful new beginnings. Give it a try.
Share away if you liked!
Which guys are more sexy black or white or brown?
are we talking about a dress here
ANOTHER NATIONAL DAY FOR YOUUUU
Try dressing up a frog.