#—— ° ● ft. pearce

[th30ra3k3n]

if you're thinking it's because we were drinking

well, that don't mean that it don't mean much

cause' it did and it does

the truth of it is that i wasn't that drunk

i was tipsy when you kissed me

but that ain't why i kissed you back

i'll be honest, i've wanted to do that, to do that, do that

(oh so long and oh so bad)

then last night, it happened so fast

i'd do it over, i wouldn't think twice

(cause’ lying here sober, it still feels right)

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dedicated to all the writers who write about theo and liam drinking wolfsbane-laced alcohol and end up kissing. i eat that shit up every time, especially if liam kisses theo first. 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♀️🧎

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there’s one y’all should read but i can’t remember the name or author 😀

theo and liam are a little buzzed and they play rock paper scissors and liam says that if they do the same thing, they have to kiss.

that’s all i remember but i know i liked it 💀

[ayarn-a]

jason pearce, starter call

not sure why it suddenly feels like it hits her. usually, she work through things in a logical, sensible fashion. she doesn't usually get all . . . emotional. she has feelings of course. but the whole thing with james, it didn't feel like it hurt that bad at the time. and now it feel like this crushing weight on her chest, ready to crack her ribs open without a second thought. maybe the text from him had something to do with it. i'm all cleared out. four words, that feels like the last lock on their relationship. spent her whole life with the guy, ever since dipers, ever since she could remember, and this is how it ends. all cleared out from her apartment. from her life. eyes trail over the words, reading them over and over again before feeling the tears roll down cheeks. and she doesn't even try to stop them. knows there won't be a point. usually store it up and when the flood gates break, it's just about giving it time to clear out. usually however, it happens in the privacy of her own company. not sitting in someone's bed, wearing just a t - shirt and hair a mess. glad jace is in the bathroom at the moment, even if she isn't quite sure how to explain. maybe it's best if she just sneak out while he's in the shower. it's just . . . a fling. he doesn't want to deal with all of this. so with that in mind, she push up from the bed and tug on her pants, not sure where underwear is and she'd give him back his t - shirt later, and fish up her blouse from the floor.

@halfrust

[softskiesahead]

💬

"I like you so much that I don't want anything bad to happen to you. So, don't hate me... don't get tired of me... okay?"

my sweetie :((( looked very hard for a non sad quote but those are kind of his specialty. how could i ever hate him. kissing him as we speak.

[chicagomxde]

He wants me to be a full time RAW Superstar, how could I say no to that face? And @dxvitt is there too.

[ariyacl]

@pearcecallahan

13 GOING ON 30 (2004) dir. Gary Winick

[stilloves]

jason pearce, this stopped being a fling a while ago.

if she had known this would happen between them, would she still have started this with him ? would she had shown up at carli's doorstep a few weeks ago, wanted to go out and experience life a little. let loose, be a little carefree, do something different. what started as a one night stand, turned into . . . this. a fling, turned into so much more. would she have done it all ? or would she have sucked it up and simply kicked her ex - fiance out of her apartment, packed his stuff into boxes on her own and sent it to a designated location. moved on from it, like it meant nothing. his hands are at her neck, thumbs just beneath her chin to make her look at him. ( perhaps he knows she would be too big of a coward to really watch him if he didn't. ) because there is this need to dig herself into a hole and disappear. but he keeps her there. found it hard. emotions, being vulnerable, always slapped on a mask and disappeared behind it. she doesn't have a choice right now, and maybe that's a good thing. there's a slow exhale, brows furrow ever so little. " i'm not usually this person, jace. " she doesn't party or go out, or even visit family. she's a homebody, who's usually focus on work. probably more than she should. " when i go back to work, to my life, i . . . all of this isn't possible for me. "

@halfrust

[ariyacl]

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?, 10. are you good at hiding your feelings?, 22. description of crush.

16. Let's get real here, if you say no, you're lying. There's always something. Am I going to tell you what it is? Mind your business.

10. My face wouldn't let me hide my feelings. If I hate you, it's on my face. If I like you, also on my face. The answer is no.

22. Are we 8? Who even has time for a crush. Tall, handsome, British and great with his tongue. @pearcecallahan

[chalkscene]

tears of themis ⇢ YOU DECIDE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT

ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter

you’re shifting restlessly on the couch when you catch your LUKE alarm keychain—handmade by luke himself—peeking from behind the armrest, “luke says he’s sorry.” you can’t help but smile at the sound of luke faking a small voice and whatever rage that filled you from your argument hours ago has now dissipated, endeared by the sweet gesture. “you’re gonna set off that alarm by accident,” you quip, the lightness in your tone encouraging luke to come into view. “you’re not mad anymore?” he asks, cautious yet hopeful. all his years of training and building a hard exterior to be a detective have nothing on you because in the warmth behind his hazel eyes that only you can bring out, you still find the boy you grew up with. the boy you’ve always loved. “i can’t stay mad at you,” you admit, on the brink of tears, “luke, i’m really sorry…” luke is quick to bring you in his arms, declining your apology because that’s what he does—he’ll blame everything before he’ll blame you. you’re unable to hold back a sob, prompting him to hold you tighter before he whispers in your ear, “let’s not do this again, okay?”

ARTEM is going over a recent case when he realizes it’s almost midnight. he’s usually one to pull an all-nighter but gnawing at the back of his mind is the argument he had with you today—you two haven’t spoken to each other since. after having decided to put off his work until tomorrow, he walks out of his home office to join you in bed but he finds you in the living room instead, your pillows and blanket already set up on the sofa. he can tell you’re aware of his presence from the way you’re deliberately not looking in his direction. still, he attempts to catch your attention with a soft call of your name. when you don’t reply, he carefully crosses the distance between the two of you. “we can’t fix this if you won’t talk to me,” he pleads. artem’s convinced his words have fallen on deaf ears until you finally speak, “i just don’t want to say the wrong thing again.” artem understands, thinking back to what started as a simple disagreement escalating into something it shouldn’t have and before you could stop it, you were both raising your voices at each other, saying things you didn’t mean. “i’m sorry about everything i said,” your voice sounds weak as it quivers and artem immediately wraps you in his embrace. “me too,” he tells you, “we can talk tomorrow. just come to bed.” when you nod into his chest, he presses a reassuring kiss at top of your head as he promises, “we’re alright.”

as MARIUS waits for you in bed, anxiety slowly eats away at him, the argument he had with you hours ago replaying in his mind. you should’ve walked in by now, he thinks, so he waits a few more minutes before getting on his feet and makes his way downstairs. he’s rehearsing his apology, muttering to himself to test the words on his tongue but it all flies out the window when he finds you asleep on the sofa. ridden with guilt, he decides to save his sorry’s for tomorrow when you’re both lucid for a proper conversation. marius is careful not to wake you up—gently slipping an arm beneath your head and looping the other under your knees to carry you to the bedroom. he’s tucking you in bed when you begin to stir awake. “sorry,” you hear him whisper, “didn’t mean to wake you up.” “what time is it?” you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “it’s late. go back to sleep.” he places a tender kiss on your forehead to lull you to your slumber before he shifts you on your side, his chest against your back as he slides an arm across your torso. “sweet dreams,” he mutters and you feel his breath on the nape of your neck. “marius?” “hm?” “i’m sorry about earlier…” “that’s my line, miss,” he quips, albeit sincerely. he gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls you flush against him. “i’m sorry, too,” he replies, “i never want you to go to sleep upset.”

you’re getting settled on the couch when you hear VYN clear his throat as he carefully places a fresh cup of tea on the table in front of you. “chamomile tea,” he states, “it will help you sleep better.” there’s the slightest caution in his voice but it’s enough to tell you what the tea is for—peace offering after your heated disagreement earlier. “thank you,” you mumble, gradually feeling the guilt bubbling in your chest, “you’re using reverse psychology on me, aren’t you?” there’s no bite in your tone but vyn’s eyes still widen at the accusation. “n-no,” he stutters and a giggle involuntarily escapes you, to vyn’s surprise. “i’m joking.” when you notice his body language go lax, you slowly reach for his hand. “and i’m sorry for the things i said to you,” you tell him, “i didn’t mean it.” “i know.” a soft smile curls on his lips as he interlocks your fingers together, “so am i.” you stay quiet for a moment, basking in his touch that you missed terribly before he speaks again. “if you still wish to be alone tonight, i don’t mind staying here.” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, aware of the fact that this is just him assessing your boundaries—vyn does mind and you know that—so you shoot him a dubious look instead to which he responds with a sheepish smile. “i suppose you’ve changed your mind?” you actually give him an eye roll this time. “you know you had me at chamomile.”

[ariyacl]

@pearcecallahan

Stardust (2007) dir. by Matthew Vaugh

[ayarn-a]

jason pearce, My muse pulls your muse onto their lap with zero warning.

the club was absolutely packed. truly, ever since she walked inside, it felt like somone was always bumping into her, always brushing up against her. even in the VIP section, and it's not that she minds. this is what she wanted. a place to unwind. and she probably shouldn't expect anything else, considering who sat around this table. asher, miami, jace and kyle, they easily drew a crowd. it felt good tho, being in a space, even if for just a few hours, where she didn't have to worry about anything outside this building. except the fact her heels were absolutely killing her. the few seats here were taken and she'd opten to lean against the table, shifting weight from one foot to the other for a bit. at least, until hands are on her waist, pulling her down into lap. there's a sharp inhale, smile tugging at lips as head turn to watch him, brow raise ever so little. " i'm fine standing, you know. " shifting a little to turn more against him, one of her arms wrap around the back of his neck to keep a little more balanced. " and if you wanted me closer, all you had to do was ask, "

@halfrust.

[clarkeybabey]

❝ we don't even fight anymore ❞

# summary; watching your relationship slowly end

# playlist; we don't fight anymore, Carly Pearce (ft Chris Stapleton)

# word count; 715

# note; i have three drafts w/ over 1k words i simply can't be asked to finish them omg, I love writing angst, u don't understand

Things were coming to a slow end. The weekend was winding down, and you had been out later than usual on both Saturday and Sunday. When you finally returned home, Harry hadn't even awakened at the sound of your footsteps in the bathroom or the movement in the bed when you snuggled under the duvet next to him. The silence was deafening, the absence of his usual reaction weighing heavily on you as you lay there, lost in your thoughts.

Once upon a time, if you were out past the time he had decided to turn in for the night your phone would be flooded with messages asking if you needed a ride or if you'd be home soon, but now there was nothing but radio silence, not even a message to see if you were coming home.

On days he was filming for the Sidemen channels he would shoot for them to end at the same time so he could make it home in time to make dinner with you, this time he was home three hours late, especially when you needed him here to hopefully take care of you even a little, "Where've you been, kinda needed that medicine," you mumble stirring some milk into the tea you'd made for your sore throat.

"Went for dinner with the boys," his eyes attempt to meet yours and he hopes they will for the first time in a while, but you're too busy staring a hole into the space on the counter where your mug sits.

You nod, nearly biting a hole through your cheek, praying he can't see the hurt in your face at the obvious lack of invitation. You turn your back to him completely as you rummage through the fridge to find your own dinner, "I brought you that pasta you like," he speaks up realizing what you're doing, you hum as he slides the plastic takeaway box toward you, across the top is the name of your favorite restaurant and that makes it hurt ten times worse.

Later that evening you lay in bed with your book in hand and a reading lamp above you, he's lying just next to you, but also somehow feels continents away on his phone scrolling through Instagram. You can't help but swallow hard as you notice he seems to be stalking some model you both had met at a video shoot not too long ago.

For your own sanity, you shut your book and slide it into your bedside table drawer, giving it a nudge with your knee letting it slam shut. As you tug your phone off the charger you see his brows knit together in stupid confusion, that you refuse to acknowledge. The air conditioning has goosebumps rising on your bare legs when you head for the bathroom.

"I just don't see an issue," he says, walking you in circles and speaking so calmly about something that nearly broke you, making you nauseous. Not caring a little about your mental state, you mistakenly decided to speak up about seeing what he had been doing on his phone last night, but he seemed to be completely lost on that topic.

Suppressing a scoff you shrug, doing your best to even out your breathing, "If you don't, I don't either," you want to scream in his face about how it made you feel, maybe even beg for him to call you beautiful because he used to make you feel like the only woman to ever grace this planet.

But you don't; instead deciding to keep the same stoic expression you have sported so very often.

God, you wish upon every star that you could be blessed with the strength to either fight for this, curse his name and let him know how this silence made you feel, or end this with hatred in your heart.

You can't hate him, you wouldn't have made it through university without his encouragement, and you wouldn't have been able to make nearly as much of a name for yourself without being featured on his channel occasionally all those years ago. There's no way you'd be here today without all of it. You don't care enough about anything with how numb you are to waste time hating him.

[luciana-fanfics]

LUCIANA'S KINKTOBER MASTERLIST 2023

[ HOYOVERSE GAMES •Tears of Themis •Genshin •HSR ]

[ WILL ONLY BE WRITING FOR 20 DAYS BECAUSE I HAVE COLLEGE STARTING SOON ]

WEEK 1: TEARS OF THEMIS

Day 1: Artem Wing ~•Office Sex

Day 2: Luke Pearce ~•Praise

Day 3: Marius Von Hagen ~•Dirty Talk

Day 4: Vyn Richter ~•Submissive/Dominant

Day 5: Rosa [X female] ~•Cunnilingus

Day 6: Artem Wing ~•Cockwarming

Day 7: FREE DAY

WEEK 2: HONKAI STAR RAIL

Day 8: Jing Yuan ~•Daddy Kink

Day 9: Danheng+Danheng IL ~•Threesome

Day 10: Kafblade ~•Hate sex

Day 11: Kafka ~•Humiliation

Day 12: Himeko ~•Mommy Kink

Day 13: Starch ~•Fingering

Day 14: FREE DAY

WEEK 3: GENSHIN IMPACT

Day 15: Chilumi ~•First Time

Day 16: Scaramona ~•Car sex

Day 17: Beiguang ~•Face Sitting

Day 18: Haikaveh ~•Breeding ft. A/B/O

Day 19: Cynonari ~•Blow job

[ariyacl]

@pearcecallahan

[peppymintdreams]

Sock Time Out

Luca Pearce x Mc ft Mocha

The sound of something crashing in the other room made you and Luca freeze. Both of you turned your heads toward the source of the noise—Mocha.

“Mocha!” you called out, exasperated.

The small kitten bolted into the living room with an impressive burst of speed, carrying a sock in her mouth like a trophy. She skidded to a halt in front of you, dropped the sock at your feet, and looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes.

“What did she do now?” Luca asked from the kitchen, peeking over the counter.

“She knocked over a cup again,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose. “That’s the third time this week.”

Mocha meowed defiantly, as if daring you to argue with her.

“That’s it,” you said, standing up and grabbing a clean sock from the laundry basket.

“What are you doing?” Luca asked, amused as he walked into the room with a cup of tea.

“She’s going into sock jail.”

Luca blinked, holding back a laugh. “Sock time out?”

You nodded, carefully picking up Mocha, who squirmed in your grasp. “She’s been causing chaos all morning. Consequences.”

You gently slid the sock over Mocha’s tiny body like a makeshift onesie, leaving her head and front paws free. She froze the moment the sock was on, as if the fabric had magically immobilized her.

“See? Effective,” you said, setting her down on the couch.

Mocha stared at you, her eyes full of betrayal. She tried to wiggle, but the sock clung tightly enough to her that she eventually gave up and flopped over dramatically.

Luca, now leaning against the wall, burst out laughing. “You’re so mean to her,” he said, though his smile betrayed that he was entirely entertained.

“She’ll learn,” you replied, crossing your arms. “Maybe next time she won’t knock things over.”

Mocha let out the most pitiful, dramatic meow, looking directly at Luca for backup.

“Oh, don’t look at me,” he said, smirking. “I’m not getting involved. You brought this on yourself, Mocha.”

You sat back down beside her, reaching out to scratch her head. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you little menace.”

Mocha let out a small, resigned sigh, curling into a sulky ball. The sock may have been her prison, but her spirit remained unbroken.

Luca slid onto the couch beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “You know she’s going to get revenge later, right?”

“Let her try,” you replied with a grin, already bracing for Mocha’s next act of defiance.

[stilloves]

starter for Jason Pearce.

her ex loved showing her off, but dancing with him never felt like this. because while he had focused on everything and everyone else around them, jace seemed to only focus on her. like the gala happening around them didn't exist. there's just the two of them, swaying back and forth in the middle of the floor, to the soft tunes of music playing from a small live orchestra. her arms draped over his shoulders and his are wrapped around her waist, pulling her entirely against him. and she knows they stand out in the crowd. everyone else is doing some fancy walz. and she already told him she couldn't dance, not like this, but he didn't care. and it's a little bit infectious. it's freeing to not care, to not overthink, to just focus on him. a smile form, nose crinkle every so little, a playful little gesture before she leans a little closer, forehead thud lightly against his.

@halfrust

[pearcecallahan]

➡️ a little look at pearce’s instagram ft. @ariyacl @rylexcallahan @irzaozer