For once I want to be the car crash Not always just the traffic jam Hit me hard enough to wake me And lead me wild to your dark roads [This is an indie multicharacter rp blog, will rp with any fandom]
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xrefugefromlife:
She rolled her eyes as he pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, closing every inch between them. You see, when kissing someone you’re in-love with, people claim that butterflies dance in the pit of your stomach. But that didn’t happen for Alex, not even close. The butterflies didn’t just dance, they protested and jumped and groaned and ached and played a back to back soccer match. That kind of effect was what scared her the most. The fact that someone could mean so much to her and make her feel all those emotions with one single movement. It frightened the living shit out of her.
Her hands trailed his chest, down his torso, and played with the hem of his shirt before grabbing it and throwing it over his head. She broke the kiss just for a second, throwing his shirt behind her before making contact with his skin again. She trailed kisses from his lips, to the side of his mouth, and down to his neck. She smirked in satisfaction as she earned a reaction from him. Alex knew that it wouldn’t take long before Key would lift her up and throw them both on the bed. And it would take any longer before they were both nude and panting for each other. So if she was going to keep this teasing fest up, she’d better hurry or the only thing she’ll be able to muster out is hurry. So with one last, long, mesmerizing, head spinning kiss, she pulled away, looked him straight in the eyes and said, “This far.”
Alex Scordato.
Mainly referred to as Lex and Trooper. But maybe he should start calling her 'wildfire', now. Yes, wildfire; for every fluttering touch of those godforsaken cherry lips that slipped over his skin burned. Enflamed by lust, by the longing that empowered each and every single demanding cell in his body. And, although dominance was Key's strongest virtue, he didn't mind her taking control--at least, not right now. He knew that she wouldn't last that long, anyway. With his neck canted to the side to grant her more skin to taunt with, a grip around her hips to pull her closer chaperoned the small groan fumbling out.
But then, it was gone; her touch, her breath, the crispy feeling of her wet kisses tracing a line down his neck----it was all gone. And, fucking hell, did it leave him breathlessly angry and demanding more. "Really?" His eyebrows shot up, sucking in his bottom lip. "Are you sure about that, Scordato?"
Revenge; Key's favourite game.
Within a heartbeat, he had her up against the wall with a light thump and a mischievous smile curling up on his lips. His hand danced over her hips, finding their way slowly down her thigh before pulling it up as his other hand fluttered up her shirt, inspecting the softness of her skin, the feeling of her lace bra under his fingertips. He neglected her lips, even though it killed him not to have one last taste of her lipstick, instead his lips ravished every little inch of her neck, open and wet with teeth grazing against a skipping pulse, all the way down to that triggering crook.
His hand wandered to the inside of her thighs, skimming against the desired flavour of her skin. He chuckled, tongue darting over his lips as his hand rested on her core; her dripping warmth was enough to condemn insanity on him. He could feel himself harden as he rubbed against the fabric of his underwear, refusing to have it torn away from her now. Leaning his lips next to her ear, he breathed out a taunting phrase that he knew would do him justice. "I'm not all that happy with you right now. In fact, all I want to do is tear you apart." With that being said, he tore off the godforsaken fabric that stood in his way off her body and chuckled. "And, I swear to God, I will."
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Let’s Dance To Joy Division - The Wombats
let’s dance to joy division, and celebrate the irony, everything is going wrong, but we’re so happy.
66/365
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Some day they’ll go down together; And they’ll bury them side by side; To few it’ll be grief To the law a relief But it’s death for Bonnie and Clyde.
They’re enslaved to each other. Not destined, not compelled; enslaved. For other words are too soft, too romantic. And neither of them are soft nor romantic, for such words are to be implied on lovers, and they’re not lovers (although a lot of people claim them to be in love), no, they’re prisoners. They’re prisoners of the sound of the other’s echoing laughter, the tenderness of the other’s voice when shrouded by sleep dust, the way their bodies molded and crooned against each other, and the touch of velvet carapace beneath fluttering fingertips.
Slaves; just as defenseless, just as submissive.
They were once strong, liberate, autonomous. But that was before they clashed. Maybe this was their way of paying for their sins? Such a vulpine conspiracy, to diminish their independence by each exhale whisked by the other’s inhale, to intensify their dependency in such a way that each breath alone is hardly a breath at all. Which is why distance is their worst enemy, for whenever they’re apart, every single cell in their bodies screams for the other, pleading for the agony to stop; like missing an eye, or an arm, or a leg, the absence of the other meant deprivation for both.
Once invincible and extraordinary souls, now bound and withering.
They’re an everlasting chaos; reckless and made of glass. Of course, they make each other stronger. But they’re also a poisonous flaw, a deficiency to their durability. Even history can confess that they’ve never been as vulnerable as they are now. Not only are they weak, but they’re utterly oblivious of how fragile they are; they’ve lost their ability to stand alone, so they fall codependent.
Codependency’s a tragedy, and tragedies are not to be romanticized.
"To care, to bleed, to hate and to die.” Under the roof of an abandoned motel, they vow breathlessly.
Earlier that same day, they almost went down together, almost got ran over by those who wear the law as their badges but breathe insincerity. Only then, handcuffed and bruised, did they realize that one day they’re going to be a destructive myth and nothing more. That is why the promise lingered in the misty air around them, sealed with clashing lips and intertwined fingertips, before they fell asleep.
#banina#violet x luke#creative writing#codependency#drabbles#bonnie and clyde#love#THE PHOTO IS NOT MINE I FOUND IT ON MY COMPUTER
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#this is musical porn#no literally#no you don't understand i'm not even exaggerating#this sounds like jessie j masturbating
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#violet x luke#notice how proud he looks look at the pride lacing his happiness#and how he holds on to her#like he's so protective of her#and look how genuinely happy she is#she's not smiling she's /laughing/#i cant get over how they're holding onto each other#but this just sums up their relationship so well; they hold on#because before rio's crew and all that#they had no one but each other#they got to the point where the distance between them burned holes in their skin#they long for each other's heartbeats#against their chest#that's her anchor#that's her safety#the warmth that radiates from his body#for so long she loathed the sound of the vitality of heartbeats#wanted nothing but to hear it slowly disappear#even hers#but for the first time since her brother's death#heartbeats /calm/ her down#alleviation and safety and warmth and stuff that died with her brother came rushing back#and how she inhales when he exhales just to keep a little part of him inside of her#the essense of his life is music to her ears#in fact he might as well be her favourite sound in the whole world
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It was a whirlwind of rage and agony that was beating against her lungs and bruising each and every inch of her body as her legs proceeded to tear the cement beneath her; how dare such an impeccable mixture stand in the way of her escape? But, wait--what was she escaping from?
Oxygen was no longer a guaranteed privilege as she gasped for a redeeming breath. She could hear faint voices scream her name, chaperoning it with a certain tone that she despised; Violet, worry screamed. She couldn't stop, though, she couldn't even steal a glance; one glance would steal her one chance of surviving this horrible monster slashing it's way out of her chest.
She could hear footsteps that didn't belong to her attempt to match up with her pace, each crunch against the floor taunted with the living insect scrawling against her skull. "Go away!" Her scream scratched her throat, a painful reminder of that screeching night. "I don't want you here!"
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“I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. I probably should have cried, I should have drowned us there in the room ending our suffering.”
Jonathan Safran Foer (via sickur)
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This will be my last confession I love you never felt like any blessing Whispering like it's a secret Only to condemn the one who hears it With a heavy heart
#this song is fucking beautiful don't touch me ever#music#it reminds me of a ship buT#IM JUST#LISTEN TO THIS GUYS DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND#HOW FUCKING WONDERFUL THIS SONG IS
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xrefugefromlife:
"—That’s not helping, Vi."

"Look, I'll just spill it out; when I first got here, I got here with Luke. They've already heard about two rascals going around and stuff so it wasn't like we were--unqualified. But, the thing is, they didn't want new people; after they've had Blaze and California, they just thought having one more girl on the crew was too much. Considering, y'know, California's--well, she made herself something after she had met Luke. Keith, though, Key looked me right in the eyes and said 'Name the different ways you could kill each and every one of us if we were fighting right now, if you think you're worht it.' Good God, I wanted to kick his ass right then. I refused to tell him; I showed him. I just--kicked all of their asses, without causing terrible damage. Point is: Key can push you to extremes sometimes, but that's just because he means good. Trust me, that guy you have? Yeah, every single girl I know of fantasizes about him. Bad-boy-good-man material."

#mv; violet#v: alex#hahahaha i just figured out how violet got in#i love you#vheadcanons#xrefugefromlife
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xrefugefromlife:
"….—-Thanks, Cali. Great help." He glared at her. "Yeah, I think you know the most when it comes to scratched paint." He smirked. "Hey, remember that time you stole Blaze’s bike just to piss him off and ended up scratching the paint?" Luke laughed.

"Wow, the look Key had on his face when saw you come in that garage. Could’ve sworn I saw fear in those mystified eyes. And you guys make me stay with Blaze to keep him company. I had to lose to him seven times in a row so he wouldn’t leave the game and check on his bike. You still owe me, y’know?"

A roll of her eyes was justified by his little taunting declaration, wasn't it? She chuckled, finally finding the needed paint spray. "I still owe you, huh?" Fingers drummed against the cool plastic as mischief curled up a half smile, one that the Daniels were infamous for, before she took a couple of steps towards him. "You've got a lot of guts saying that, Buddy. Considering, you know, you came to me for help to cover up that awful mess of yours. But, okay, here; let's call it even."
Cue the shrug------------And off went the trigger, bruising him with blue stains all over that shirt he was wearing.
Did she regret it? Maybe. Would she do it again? Definitely.
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numerosus:
"Are you trying to imply that I’m stalking you now? Because honestly, I have better things to do with my time. Sometimes I wonder how a body like that can support such a large head."

"You have better things to do? Like what? Because, let's just state the facts here; this is about the third time we meet 'unintentionally'. C'mon now, Charlie, you don't actually believe that, do you? Your inability to hold back your feelings from me does wonders for my ego. Besides, I work out."

#YES#THEY'RE AMAZING OKAY#THEY'RE JUST REALLY FUN#TO WRITE#c; daniel#verse: two wrongs don't make a right#numerosus
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melodymelblack:
”You’re just ruining a guy his fantasy.”

"Your fantasy is my nightmare, buddy."

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daughterofthee-sea:

“What, i am that obvious?.”

"The groaning and the frustrated cries chaperoned with your--uh, car there, might have gave you away. What's up?"
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numerosus:
“Surprisingly no. I’m here to see you. Is that so shocking?”

"Not really no. In fact, I was wondering how long you were going to keep the whole 'seeing you is a coincidence' act; not very long, apparently. Couldn't stay away, huh?"

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