#Highways and Hedges

[laku-incarnate]

"When the sordid desire for gold has been half-satisfied, however, and sometimes before that, it is discovered that the toil involved was a poor striving, after all, for something not to be compared with what had been within reach all the time without the striving."

Herbert Morrah, Highways and Hedges

[mumblelard]

i think clarice produced a bud just to keep ruth company

[andhumanslovedstories]

Also. David Boreanaz might be capable of acting but he hasn’t demonstrated it yet on this rewatch. (I am hedging this statement only because I vaguely remember him being much better on his own show once he’s allowed to do things like have a personality that isn’t entirely about being sad and obsessing about a 16 year old. But hey, that could be pure nostalgia talking.) He’s better as Angelus than he is as Angel, in the way that a bicycle is generally better transportation than a unicycle, but you still shouldn’t take it out on the highway. It reminds me of The Hunger Games movies where you have this amazing cast of adult actors and also Liam Hemsworth is there. Yknow? Like sometimes Angel is in a big emotional scene with Buffy and Giles, and those two are giving it their fucking all, and then it cuts to David Boreanaz looking like he’s his own stand-in just reading the script so the real actors have something to react to. It’s brutal. This fact alone should have settled the Bangel v. Spuffy debates.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Already Gone || MV1 {4}

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: Try as you might, you can’t stay away from Max for too long. Warnings: criminal activities, implied smut WC: 2.8k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five

It was official, you were insane. That had to be the reason why you found your way back to Monaco. 

The last month had seemed more like a year and every single day had dragged out as you tried to keep yourself distracted by moving from place to place. But nothing worked. Max consumed your waking thoughts and invaded your dreams. 

Your freefall through Europe had started in Norway since it had been the first flight leaving the country after you finally retrieved your go bag from the safe house in Camden Town. You tried not to look back as you searched for a place to start over, forcing yourself to move forward even though your legs felt like lead. 

Sweden came next, then Denmark, but neither country had what you were looking for either so you crossed into Germany. The luxury apartment in Cologne had everything you needed to have a fresh start as a nobody and you should have been comfortable, but it too didn’t feel like home. So you had locked it up and got back in your car, hitting the highway and letting fate decide where you ended up.

You mindlessly walked with your head down to shelter your phone from the rain that drizzled upon the cobbled streets, your thumb swiping through the hundred of pictures you had taken with Max. You had only stopped in the random city because you could no longer ignore your rumbling stomach but when you saw the country flag hanging from a war memorial statue you froze.

You looked around, paying more attention to your surroundings and not the memories the photos held, as you struggled to remember even passing through the Netherlands before reaching Belgium. Everywhere you turned you saw signs you had missed, the city name surrounding you: Hasselt.

 How did you end up here?

Max was the answer. You were a victim of your own mind and it had been leading you back to him this entire time. But this still wouldn’t be enough. You didn’t want to be where he was born, you wanted to be where he was. 

You wanted to make things right. You needed to make things right.

So there you were, walking along the private street lined with perfectly trimmed hedges towards a wrought iron gate that would never stop you from reaching his door. But the man stationed in front of it might.

“Shit,” you cursed as you turned down the driveway of his neighbour. You hadn’t factored in that he may have been given a protective detail as a result of your actions. It didn’t change your end goal though, merely the plans of getting there.

It had been a few years since you last scaled a fence but you managed to pull yourself up the one on the back boundary and not break a leg when you jumped down the other side. It would have been much easier to sneak around at night but you weren’t patient enough to wait that long but you did keep to the shadows as you reached the house and tested the backdoor. 

You hardly breathed when the latch clicked and the handle turned. The sound seemed too loud in the quiet suburb and you froze as you waited to hear the shouts of alarm, but they never came. All you heard was the loud purring of Achilles as he padded across the kitchen floor to brush against your legs.

“Look at you, you’ve gotten so big,” you whispered as you picked him up and snuggled him to your chest, a weight lifting from your conscience knowing Max had kept his promise. “I missed you too.”

You placed him back on the floor with one last scratch behind his ears before silently rounding the corner and ducking past the front window and tiptoeing up the stairs. You had spent too many nights in this house to count, made too many memories, to just walk through it without feeling the ache that came from missing it.

You skipped the stair that always creaked and stepped to straighten the picture of him and his mom on the wall. It was your fault it was on a lean, your shoulder had knocked it one night when you fell asleep on the couch and Max had carried you up to bed.

The only thing that had changed in the house was the door to the storage room that now had a gaping hole in it. Questions flooded your head at the possibilities ranging from Max lashing out in a fit of rage and putting his fist through it to a more worrying thought of someone else doing the damage. Was that why he had security? Did someone attack him?

Your hands shook at the thought and you clenched them into fists as you swore you would find out what happened, and make sure they paid.

The anger that had quickly filled you evaporated the instant you heard his voice and your feet carried you towards the sound you had missed dearly.

You watched him for a minute from the side door to the corner office, taking in the exhaustion that saturated him from his wild hair and dark bags under his eyes to the unkempt beard he was sporting.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled to one of the Red Line racers and the lifeless tone cut through the excitement you had felt when you spotted him in his simulator, his eyes focused on the screens in front of him.

“When did you become the liar?”

Max’s hands tore his headset off as he spun to find you, an apparition he could hardly believe was standing in his home. Time slowed as you stared at each other and the very air seemed to freeze as you connected with those blue eyes that had haunted your nights. No photo could ever quite capture the true shade of azure they were, you had relied upon your memory but even that did not do them justice.

“Hi.” You broke the silence and the moment in time was shattered, sense coming back to Max as he pulled the power plug from his simulator to cut the live stream before jumping to his feet.

“How did you get in here, Y/N?” he asked, looking out the window that overlooked the front yard to see the security guard still stationed at the gate.

You shrugged and looked down at your feet. “The backdoor was unlocked.”

“I have so many questions.”

You had expected as much as you went to the adjoining room and took a seat on the edge of his bed while he leaned against the set of drawers. 

“I can’t promise answers to everything, but I won’t lie to you, Max,” you swore as you buried your hands in your pockets. 

“That’s more than I thought I would get,” he muttered before taking a deep breath and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Fine, an easy one to start with. Would a locked door have stopped you?”

Your shoulders bounced with a laugh. Reaching the back of your head, you pulled a long hair pin out and eyed the curved hook that you held out to him. “Not a standard one at least.”

He shook his head but didn’t seem surprised by the answer. “How did you learn that? How did you become…whatever you are?”

“That’s not as easy to answer,” you admitted as you pushed the pin back into your hair. “There was this foster mum, a particularly nasty woman. She liked the money the state gave her but not so much the kids. She would lock us in the attic and as the oldest it was up to me to sneak out and steal food, clothes, money. Turns out I was pretty good at it.”

“Fucking hell,” Max said quietly as his hands fell at his sides and you saw the pity in his eyes. You didn’t want pity.

“It is what it is. My turn for a question,” you said as you pointed to the hallway. “What the fuck happened to the door?”

“What? Oh, that,” he said as a small smile appeared on his face, instantly making your heart feel lighter. “Achilles got trapped in there and I had to break him out, poor little guy must have been terrified.” The smile disappeared as he realised that had probably been how you felt as a child and he swallowed deeply before crossing the room and sitting beside you on the bed. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he confessed as he rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. “Why did you come back?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you too.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out the small thumb drive you had prepared on your journey to Monaco. “This is everything you need to destroy Ferrari,” you said as you placed it into his hand and closed his fingers around it.

“What is this?” he asked as you spotted a dress between the almost closed doors to the wardrobe. You rose to your feet and opened it wider to see your clothes that had been left at his place on numerous occasions hung neatly beside his. “Y/N, what is this?”

You trailed your fingers over the thick motorcycle jacket he would wear, the one you would rest our helmet on as you tucked in behind him to shelter from the wind on a ride. “Correspondence, payments, data reports, everything to prove what they hired me for,” your voice almost failed as emotion thickened your throat, “and my testimony.”

The air shifter as Max stood up and you turned to see his brows pinched together. “But that would mean…”

“I’m done running, Max.”

“So that’s it? You’re done?” he shouted as he raked his hands through his hair. “You’re giving up and happy to spend the rest of your life in prison?”

“I’m not happy about any of this,” you shot back as you took a step closer and tipped your head back to look him in the eyes. “But I can’t live with the guilt of knowing I ruined your dream.”

“My dream was to be world champion, and I already won that twice,” he stated as he opened his hand, letting the thumb drive clatter on the floor. “I don’t care if I lose every race this year, liefje, I’m not going to lose you again.”

The drive crunched under his heel as he destroyed the evidence his team needed before he pulled you into his arms. Your head fell forward as relief crashed into you and your fingers desperately clung to the back of his shirt as you held him close.

“I thought you would hate me,” you whispered as your tears wet his shirt.

“I wanted to. I tried to, but,” he breathed into your hair as his arms encircled your wait. “Ik hou van jou.”

You had lost all hope of hearing those words on his lips again so it took a moment to process that had really said them to you, but the instant your brain caught up so did your body. You were already rising on your toes as you threw your arms around his neck and crashed your lips with a sound of delight. 

“I love you too,” you promised between the gasping breaths you took as his kiss trailed down your neck and he guided you backwards. 

Your legs hit the bed as he pulled your shirt off and it fell from his hands as his eyes darkened while they drank in the sight before him. The dutch you had learned from him was limited but you recognised the word for beautiful before his lips were on your skin where they belonged once again.

“What happens now?” 

Your head was resting on Max’s chest, one leg draped over his as you listened to his heartbeat. You had been lost to the sensation of his fingers running up and down your spine that you didn’t comprehend the question until his touch disappeared. 

“I suppose I should have a chat with your boss.” His eyebrows lifted at your suggestion and you chuckled as you trailed your fingertips over the soft curls below his navel, the blond hair catching the afternoon sun that spilled into the room. “I’m out of a job and a girl needs to eat, maybe I can put my skills to some good use?”

“No,” he shook his head adamantly. “No more secret agent spy shit. You don’t have to do that anymore, I’ll take care of you.”

You smiled against his warm skin as you pressed a kiss to the centre of his chest and peered up at him. “I was thinking more along the lines of security work, keeping the secrets safe instead of stealing them. Atonement for my sins.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure Christian will want you in a mile radius of the factory, or England,” he laughed and the sound only fed your smile.

“I can be pretty convincing.” You slipped out of his embrace and grabbed your clothes from the floor as he sat up and made to follow. “Wait here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where are you going?” He frowned as you pulled your jeans on and threw your shirt on next as you left the room.

“To talk to the moron at the gate!”

“Woah, hold on,” Max called as he rushed out of the bed, a heavy thud and a curse telling you he caught himself up in the tangle of bedsheets. “Y/N!”

“He had one job, Max, one job.” You skipped down the stairs and his feet hit the landing at the top. “Anyone bastard could have snuck past and gotten into your house.”

You threw the door open and broke into a sprint as Max raced to catch up, his shout alerting the guard to your presence.

“You!” you growled as you pointed a finger at the man.

“You!” he shouted in alarm at the same time, his hand reaching for the phone on his hip.

“Stop, both of you!” Max demanded as he caught you around the waist and planted you behind at his still shirtless back. “Paolo, she’s not a threat.”

“Debatable,” you muttered as you crossed your arms. “I’m not a threat to you, but he clearly isn’t doing a great job at protecting you. Here, give me that,” you didn’t wait for an answer as you swiped the phone off Paolo, Christian’s number already on speed dial and connecting.

“Paolo, everything alright?” Christian answered.

“I’ve gone by many names, but Paolo isn’t one,” you said with a smile before you heard a door shut loudly in the background and the sound of leather creaking as he sat down on his office chair.

“What is it you want?”

“This isn’t just about me, the question is what do we both want?” You looked at Max as he stood stoically between you and the angry security guard, the dominance in his stance making you hot and bothered all over again. “I’m looking right at him, Mr Horner. So I suggest you pick up the beautiful fountain pen your lovely wife gave you for your anniversary, walk over to the planner on the wall behind you and find the time to meet with me.”

“Put Max on the phone,” Christian demanded quietly.

An offended scoff escaped your throat at the request. “I haven’t hurt him, I’m trying to help you keep him safe. I’ve already proven that the people you hire to protect him aren’t up to par.”

“Put him on the phone.”

“Fine. Tell him when and where you want to meet.”

You tossed the phone to Max and walked back inside the house, climbing straight back into the sheets that were still warm and smelled like him. It was the feeling of being wrapped in a cocoon of safety and the sense of home you had been searching for since you were a child. It had been right here.

It was the soft sigh that had you blinking your sleepy eyes open to see him leaning in the doorway, a playful smile on his lips. “You’re insane.” He pushed off the door jamb and pulled back the sheets to join you under the blankets, your bodies moulding together like two puzzle pieces.

“Says the man that goes 200 mph in a tin can.”

“We must both be insane,” he chuckled as he kissed your temple, “because we’re heading to the UK in the morning.”

You smiled and looked up at him, seeing your reflection in his eyes like glancing into a perfectly serene lake, endless depths hidden within them. You took his hand and traced the life line that slashed across his palm before following the love line that branched off it. You had danced your way over moral lines your entire life but now you had found the lines you wouldn’t cross.

“I told you I could be convincing.”

Click here for post five.

Tagging: @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Mister (Ghost/Reader)

CW: DILF Ghost, age gap, best friend's father, cunilingus, fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation (kinda), alcohol use, reader is in college

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 3.2k

On the corner of a caul-du-sac sat a cookie-cutter house. The front was adorned with terracotta brick walls. Nearly trimmed hedges and flower beds lined the driveway. It was suburbia. Different from the campus housing I was used to downtown. 

I was hesitant to come here. Sleepovers seemed…juvenile. But Audrey and I seemed to get along well, even after knowing each other for only two weeks. So I packed up a night’s worth of clothes and some toiletries and met her in the corridor after lecture. 

Her neighborhood was only fifteen minutes outside of the city. The speakers shook the car. Wind whipped through my hair as we sped down the highway. 

I felt odd being here, needless to say. Maybe it had to do with the fact that her dad would be home. I stepped out of her lifted truck, pulling my bag behind me. Her carabiner clinked as she unlocked the front door. I watched as she stepped inside and kicked off her shoes before following behind. 

“My rooms upstairs. You can put all your bags there.” Audrey said, pointing to the staircase. 

“Cool. You gotta show me that poster you were talking about” I grinned. She’d already started up the stairs. The hardwood creaked beneath my feet as I followed her. 

“I was in line for like…three hours? They cut the line of right after me.”

We turned down a corridor filled with picture frames. My eyes skimmed across each one. School pictures, beach trips, vacations abroad, and family photos that were obviously taken in a JC Penny. I jumped when my eyes met a pair of glaring brown irises. 

A man stood before me, leaning in the doorway of an office. Silver curls sat atop his head. Faded scars, years old by now, adorned his pale face. He had a stern look on his face, a look that was somewhere between apathy and annoyance. Maybe that was just his face. 

His arms, covered in intricate black ink, crossed over his broad chest. Even through a thick sweatshirt, I could tell he was well-built. My jaw clenched tightly as the man eyed me. 

“Oh dad, this is my friend from anthropology I was telling you about. They’re staying over tonight,” Audrey spoke up, gesturing to me with her painted nails. 

“Nice to meet you Mr. Riley,” I said, extending my hand. 

“Simon.” He gripped my hand and shook it with a jarring strength. His palms were big enough to nearly engulf my hand. He let go, sliding his hand into his pocket. I turned to face Audrey. She pulled me into her room, closing the door behind the both of us. 

She pulled a framed poster from the wall and held it out for me to see. In the bottom right corner in silver sharpie was a swirling signature from the lead singer of a metal band. 

“Isn’t it so cool?!”

I couldn’t focus on the movie, or the bottle of beer in my hand. My mind kept going back to Simon. I don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was the way he looked at me as if I was nothing. Maybe it was his grip on my hand. Or his gruff voice.

I felt…embarrassed? I haven’t felt this way about someone since middle school. My mind kept replaying that moment in his head. The way he said his own name. The way his arms flexed when he crossed them over his chest. 

These scattered thoughts flooded my mind for hours. I couldn’t sleep. I glanced back at Audrey, who was out like a light with a puddle of drool on her pillow. Gritting my teeth, I slowly moved off of the mattress. My eyes stayed locked on her sleeping frame, looking for any sign of movement. Nothing. Sighing, I stepped out of the room. Maybe another drink would quell the thoughts. 

I crept down the hallway, walking on my toes. A beam of light caught my eye as I rounded the corner. The kitchen light was on. The steps whined beneath my weight as I descended. Brown eyes locked onto me. 

Simon sat at the kitchen island. His right hand was on his computer mouse, the other resting under his chin. He closed his laptop.

My skin felt hot as his eyes ran up and down my body. I tugged at the hem of my shorts, now acutely aware of how they rode up my thighs. 

“You’re up late,” he muttered. 

“I uh, couldn’t sleep,” I said with a smile that was a little too forced. I stepped into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, jumping when I heard his chair moving from behind me. My fingers wrapped around the neck of another bottle. As I closed the fridge door, a head of grey hair appeared from behind it. 

He was closer now, leaning on the kitchen island with a glass in hand. 

“Anthropology…” he mumbled, “why’d you choose that?”

“It’s a part of my psychology course,” I explained as I twisted the top off of the bottle. I held the cap in my hand as I took a swig. The amber liquid made my throat tingle as I swallowed. This was more than I’d drank in a while, but I needed it if I wanted to deal with the man in front of me, the man who was slowly stepping closer. 

I could feel my heart in my ears as he approached the fridge. His arm bumped into me as he set his cup underneath the water fountain. Out of the corner of his eyes, he stared at me. My face felt hot. I pursed my lips, looking away hoping he wouldn’t see my flushed face. 

I heard his throat squelch as he swallowed, not daring to look. He sighed and reached his arm across me. The glass clinked as he set it in the sink. I was waiting for him to pull back, give me room to breathe, but he didn’t budge. My eyes traced up his inked arm, to his face. His eyes were fixated on me, staring through me. I felt naked under his gaze. 

“You’re shaking.” He placed a hand on my waist. If anything, his touch made it worse. My entire body was quivering. Whether from nerves or anticipation, I couldn’t tell. He stepped forward, close enough that his thighs brushed against my hip. 

“You’re shaking,” he repeated. His fingertips grazed my chin, gently tilting my head up to look at him. 

“I know.” My voice was barely a whisper. The corner of his lips curled up into a smirk. He was getting a kick out of this, and somehow that made it even hotter. 

“You nervous?” He asked. It didn’t seem like a question if he already knew the answer. His eyes flicked between my lips, and my eyes. Every time his eyes met mine, I could feel it in my stomach.

“I-” I couldn’t get the words out. His lips were on mine. The warmth of his kiss slowly melted away the tension in my muscles. By the time his hands were on my hips, I was putty in his grasp. I hooked my arms around his neck, pulling him down so I didn’t have to stand on my toes. His fingers slid into the waistband of my shorts. 

“Wait, I don’t want to wake Audrey,” I pushed my hands against his chest, breaking the kiss. 

“So we go to my room.” His tongue slid up my neck. The tips of his fingers grazed along my hipbones but didn’t date to go another inch forward. 

“But-”

“When’s the last time you’ve had a good fuck,” he asked, speaking against my neck. He punctuated his words with a kiss along my carotid. My lips pursed. I could feel my hands clench into fists. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. Audrey was the first friend I’d made all year, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. The throbbing in my core drew my attention. Every inch of my body craved his touch. My head was spinning with desire. My breath grew shallower, quicker, as lust swept over me in full force. I couldn’t take it. There was just something about him. I needed to feel him. 

“Please don’t tell her,” I begged. My fingers latched onto the collar of his sweatshirt. He pulled back, just to see the look on my face. My lips were parted, eyes half lidded, and I’m sure the blush on my cheeks had deepened to a red. 

“I wouldn’t dare.” He picked me up by my waist and slung me over his shoulder. His palm rested on the small of my back, while his other arm hooked around the back of my legs. Simon approached the stairs, giving my thighs a squeeze as he ascended. He turned right down the hallway. My eyes locked onto Audrey’s door. I could feel my jaw clenching. Should I really be doing this?

The bedroom door clicked shut behind us. My back met the plush bedding. The mattress creaked underneath my weight. Simon pulled his shirt over his head. His muscles were defined, illuminated by the soft lighting. Thickened scar tissue dotted his body like ivy on an old wall. I couldn’t help but feel intimidated as he crawled on the bed. 

He sat between my legs. His fingers idly stroked my inner thighs. His stubble scratched the skin of my neck as he leaned in. He pressed kisses to my neck, traveling up to my jaw. 

“Can I take these off?” He asked, tugging at the hem of my shorts. My stomach fluttered. 

“Yeah,” I spoke softly. He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband and began tugging, jolting my body as he pulled them down my hips. I felt my face heat up as his gaze locked onto my cunt. He swiped his index finger through the wetness pooling in my core. The tip of his finger brushed against my clit. A whine caught in my throat. 

“I just know you’re not gonna be good for me.” He moved to lie on his stomach. His sharp canines pierced the skin of my thighs. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip to quell the onslaught of moans. 

His thumb circled my clit. The movements were slow at first. His eyes locked onto my cunt, almost as if he was waiting for something. I bucked my hips into his hand, and then he stopped. I whined, pouting my lip.

Warm, wet licks against my skin diminished my protests. His hips rutted against the bed as he slowly ate me out. My brows furrowed as his tongue flicked against my clit in sharp movements. Fingertips circled around my entrance before slowly sliding in. He moaned against my cunt. I clamped my hand over my mouth in an attempt to muffle the cry that rose from my chest. 

Simon differed from anyone I’d slept with before. Foreplay was never a big part of my escapades, it was always straight to penetration. There was something about a man between my legs, moaning against my cunt, and looking up at me with pleading eyes that made my body heat up. 

Every movement of his was deliberate, from the way his fingers curled up ever so slightly with every thrust, to the way his palm rested on my stomach. It was as if he’d cast a spell on my limbs. My toes curled, fingers digging into the sheets. Each thought in my head slowly disappeared, replaced with the feeling of his tongue on my clit. I felt hot and sticky. Beads of sweat rolled down my chest. I gripped my shirt and pulled it from my body. 

His hand slid up my stomach until reaching my chest. He gripped my nipple between his index and thumb. My back arched off of the bed. His gaze seemed transfixed on me, soaking in my every reaction with those brown eyes. 

I tossed my head against the pillows. My stomach tensed as each flick of his tongue drew me further into bliss. His lips wrapped around my clit, sucking gently. My hand flew to his head, pulling his hair tight. A throbbing pain settled in my face as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. My muscles went taut as I came on his tongue. 

He pulled away, skin slick with my wetness. His fingers kept slowly pumping inside of me. He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. I could taste myself on his skin. A whine swelled from within my throat. He slid another finger inside me, thrusting alongside the others.

“Simon,” I said against his lips. 

“Gotta make sure you can take me, love,” he groaned.

The nickname made my heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t. As the haze that clouded my head faded, I became acutely aware of what I was doing. I was fucking my friend’s dad. 

“You’re so tense. Come on, open up for me.” I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or my cunt. My breath hitched when his mouth lowered to my chest. He gently bit down on my nipple, laughing at the way it made me squirm. His brows furrowed as he sucked my skin into his mouth. 

With a soft pop, he pulled off of my nipple, only to dive back in. He sunk his teeth into my skin. I clenched around his fingers, earning a groan from him. His thumb brushed against my sensitive clit. My voice contorted as the overstimulation made my head swim. 

“Fuck, there you go,” He spoke against my skin. “Such a pretty cunt.”

His words pushed me over the edge. I gushed around his fingers. My thighs quivered and clamped down around his hand. I took in heaving breaths as he worked me through my orgasm. I stared down at the man with half-lidded eyes. He smirked, watching my expression as I slowly came down from my high. 

The bed shifted as he moved. His grey hair vanished from my peripherals. The drawer to his nightstand slid open with a low rumble. I didn’t bother to turn my head. 

When he settled back onto the bed, his jeans were gone. My eyes skimmed down his nude body, settling on his cock, which was now resting on my stomach.

He was right. It was big. The heat that radiated off of his skin drew my thoughts into more perverted places. The head of his cock was flushed and leaking. A single silver barbell protruded from the head of his cock. He lifted my hips and slid a pillow underneath me. 

“You on the pill?” He asked, popping open the cap to a bottle of lube. 

“Yes.” I watched him slide the lube over his cock. 

“Good, cause I don’t have any condoms.”

He pushed one of my knees to my chest. His hand guided his cock to my entrance. With his eyes locked onto me, he slowly pushed inside of me. It burned, almost felt stabbing. I clenched my jaw and gripped his wrist. His hips halted. 

“You okay?” His thumb gently stroked my knee with a tenderness that drew my attention away from the pain. 

“It hurts,” I said through my teeth. 

“We can stop-”

“Please keep going,” I interrupted. He stared at me with wide eyes. With a nod, he pushed forward. 

The stabbing pain faded into a more manageable cramping pain. I felt undeniably full. He let go of my leg, instead moving to my stomach to gently stroke my skin. He whispered praises as he sunk deeper inside me. My brows knit as he bottomed out. His hips stilled, eyes fixated on my cunt. 

“That’s it, bein’ so good for me.” He groaned. I clenched around his cock, earning a grunt from his heaving chest. 

“Simon, please move,” I crossed my ankles behind his back. 

He shifted his weight onto his hands, placing them on either side of my head. 

“Since you asked so nicely…”

He began thrusting his hips into me at a steady pace. Every jolt of his hips made the mattress squeal beneath us. The sound of our skin slapping echoed throughout the room. He was rough and forceful, bullying his cock deeper into me. 

His moans were deep and gravely. Every little noise that came out of him sounded like music. I hooked my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to my level. His lips clashed against mine, tongue licking against my bottom lip. I parted my lips for him. A moan slipped from me as he slid his tongue into my mouth. 

Tears welled in my eyes as the stimulation grew. I wanted more, needed more of him. I bit down on his lip and pulled back, tugging his skin. Something changed in him then. He pulled away and gripped onto the headboard, using the leverage to thrust harder into me. His eyes screwed shut. I could feel him twitch from inside me. 

I Clenched around his cock, stomach tensing as my third orgasm rapidly approached. He gripped my chin between his fingers.

“Fuck, you gonna cum?” He asked with his plush lips parted. 

My response was an incoherent mess of words and a frantic nod. His thumb went to my clit. He rubbed tight circles into my skin, encouraging me to cum, begging even. I knew he wouldn’t last long with the way his thrusts grew erratic. 

With a snap of his hips, I came on his cock, squeezing around him. He grunted, stilling inside me as he came. A stream of moans rose from my throat.

My body felt tingly like tv static as every nerve in my body fired. I felt overstimulated, hot, and sore. I whined as he pulled out. The bed shook as he collapsed onto his side. 

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and held the screen out to me. It was a “new contact” page. I smirked as I put my number in under the contact labeled “Derek”

“Derek…who are you gonna tell them I am when that name pops up on your screen?” I asked, swinging my leg over his hips.

“Old coworker.” He said with a laugh. 

“Old coworker with bomb pussy?” I raised my eyebrows and pouted, scanning his face for a reaction. He smiled and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. 

“Audrey’s going on vacation with her mom in a couple weeks. Why don’t you come over then?” He ran his hand along my back. 

“I’d love to, but speaking of which, I need to get back.” I sat up, grabbing my shorts from the foot of the bed. 

I threw my clothes on and hastily tossed my sweat soaked hair into an updo. My fingers grasped the doorknob, gently pulling it open. I waved at Simon before slipping into the hall. As the door closed behind me I sighed.

My brain replayed every minute of our interaction over and over again. The way he touched me with care, got off on eating me out, and checked in on me. What seemed to be basic decency was something I’d been lacking. My stomach fluttered as I thought of seeing him in a couple of weeks. I didn’t regret this, in fact I wanted more of this. 

What did I get myself into.

[seat-safety-switch]

Brakes are a safety item, now? Let me tell you about safety. Nearly one hundred percent of cars that crash are using the brakes in the moments leading up to impact. That sounds pretty dangerous to me.

Even though there have been centuries of advancement in the field of brakes, it still ultimately boils down to one thing. You are using one slightly soft rock to stop a larger, harder rock from turning. Back in the day, they could do this approximately once. Any successive attempt to stop would be met with a "not today, bud," but more polite, English, and cut off at the end by plowing through a hedge, bank, or tire wall.

Improvements abounded, however, and the modern hydraulic disc brake system has advanced stopping power that the ancient racecars of even a decade ago would be shitting their pants to have. Everyone on my commute knows this. And they're so proud of their brakes that they use them all the time. Merging. Driving in the left lane. Going downhill. Going uphill. A quinceañera. There is simply no traffic occasion that doesn't merit a stiff jab of the whoa pedal, buying them just enough time for their brains to start working again before lapsing back into the microwaving-a-potato 60hz hum of modern life.

As for me, I've never taken brakes for granted. Once you've done enough sketchy shit to make sure they still work – and especially once you've had a few blown lines or ejected shoes at highway speed – you want to avoid using the hill outside the Mayor's house as your emergency braking system if at all possible. This is only aided by the fact that my car's engine is not exactly capable of Ferrari-like acceleration, unless that Ferrari is currently parked. Like the astronauts of Apollo 13, I need to save all the momentum that I can get, or I won't get to work on time. Or ever.

So the next time you push down the middle pedal (it is the middle pedal in your car, right?) say a silent thanks to the inventor of brakes, whoever it is, and then get ready to cuss out the guy in front of you for slamming on his brakes for no goddamn reason it's fucking dry as a bone and sunny you idiot are you slowing down for ducks or some shit learn to read the road signs do not use big words.

[bbinkus11]

ok so a while ago I did lu high school headcanons

And you know what? Music headcannons here we go

(You can count it as modern au I guess)

Time: Classic Rock all the way!! Queen, Aerosmith, Bon Jovi, Pink Floyd, Guns N’ Roses, etc. Probably knows all the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody like a cool person

(Probably favorite) songs:

Sweet Child O’ Mine - Guns N’ Roses

American Pie - Don McLean

You give love a bad name - Bon Jovi

Legend: E-Boy but not in a super cringey way. DEFINITELY listens to Arctic Monkeys, Tame Impala, and Cage the Elephant. His favorite Arctic Monkeys album is Favorite Worst Nightmare and you cant tell me otherwise.

(Probably favorite) songs:

Crying Lighting - Arctic Monkeys

Eventually- Tame Impala

Cold Cold Cold - Cage the Elephant

Wild: Twenty-one Pilots obsessed. Like has been to multiple concerts and listens to them every time in the car. Also likes The Last Shadow Puppets.

(Probably favorite) songs:

Heavydirtysoul - Twenty-one Pilots

Car Radio - Twenty-One Pilots

Fake you out - Twenty-one Pilots

Calm Like You - The Last Shadow Puppets

Hyrule: who knows man. Prolly listens to classical music some days and then heavy metal another day. Usually goes in between though, prolly listens to epic orchestra-performed versions of songs from his favorite video games. I’d say he likes cool orchestra stuff.

(Sticking to the Zelda theme, imma recommend stuff)

(Probably favorite) bands:

Theophany

ROZEN

The Marcus Hedges Trend Orchestra

Twilight: Oh, Twilight, what do I do with you. Pure country boy, but prefers classic rock kinda stuff. Definitely likes Zac Brown Band, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Foo Fighters.

(Probably favorite) songs:

Highway 20 Ride - Zac Brown Band

Toes - Zac Brown Band

My Hero - Foo Fighters

Wind: Could be a cringy middle school boy that listens to rap and rap only, or he could be cool and listen to musical rap (cough Hamilton uhhhh) anyway likes Twenty One Pilots’ fast songs and Tyler, The Creator. Maybeee some yeat? nah probably not

(Probably favorite) songs:

HOT WIND BLOWS - Tyler, The Creator

Trees - Twenty One Pilots

Chlorine - Twenty One Pilots

Warriors: uhhh? Probably listens to the most cringiest things as a joke but when he’s alone, he’ll prolly listen to some Eminem or Queen or Weezer or something. I like to think he has a very mixed music taste.

(Probably favorite) songs:

Buddy Holly - Weezer

Killer Queen - Queen

Without me - Eminem

Four: Heavy metal. No questions asked. He likes Korn and Slipknot, no doubt. Despite his calm demeanor, he definitely has these playing in his mind xd

(Probably favorite) songs:

Freak on a leash - Korn

Duality - slipknot

Sky: from how his character is portrayed in LU, I’d like to think he likes indie music and some indie rock. He likes Neighborhood, Laufey, Mac DeMarco, and Legend introduced him to Tame Impala.

(Probably favorite) songs:

Reflections - The Neighborhood

For the first time - Mac DeMarco

The less I know the better - Tame Impala

That’s all! I know i picked the most well known songs, but that’s the point. I want people to relate to these characters lol. Also, this has been in my drafts for uhh 4 months soooooo! Can you guys guess my music style? I know I’m biased okkkkkk

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

John the Apostle | Thunder Blues | Platonic

Dialogue prompt: “Are you serious right now?"

Requested: Yes

When the younger Son of Thunder is upset that he has to stay behind in Capernaum to wait for Simon, you comfort him, reassuring that Jesus knows best.

The Apostles have gathered at Jesus’ behest. Sitting next to John, you watch both Andrew and Philip as they reveal that their ministry has brought more harm than good in the Decapolis. 

Jesus, across from the two, nods in understanding as they conclude their rather distressing story.

“Aha… And… What was your strategy to clarify it?”

Philip takes a sharp breath. “Well, we uh… We told, uhm…” 

“We-We-We tried to… Uh, to tell one of Your parables.” Andrew stutters. It is clear that both of them feel embarrassed. 

“Parables! Good!” Jesus praises, “That’s what I would have done.”

“Which parable?”

Philip clears his throat. “The… The Banquet.”

“You know, the one where guests give excuses not to come and so, everyone else gets invited.”

Next to you, John huffs in disbelief. “You chose the Banquet?” You put a hand on his arm, trying to push him back into his seat, trying to not escalate the situation. You know that the two feel humiliated enough as is by coming clean about their troubled mission.

“People get upset by that one.” Nathanael adds.

“Of course they do.” Jesus hums, but there is no hint of accusation in His voice. 

Andrew lets out an anxious noise: “Well, if it makes you feel any better, we first considered the Wheat and the Tares but… We thought better of it.”

“I already told you,” Jesus patiently explains, “Some people wouldn’t understand that parable.”

“I’m not even sure I understand the Wheat and the Tares.” Thomas adds. You give him an understanding look.

Jesus lets out a soft chuckle and winks. “Give it time.”

Philip sighs. “The problem is that they did understand the parable and it caused fights in the street–”

“Rioting.” Andrew emphasises. “Between Jews and Gentiles.”

Jesus lets out a soft hum as Philip carries on. “Leander has told us it’s getting worse every day. The prominent Hellenistic priest has changed his ways, which is good, but… When he abdicated his duties as priest and leader, others tried to fill the void, and so projects are going undone and people are just angry, and blaming each other for everything.”

Next to you, John has a concerned look over his features. You put a hand on his arm and gently squeeze, at which he smiles a bit wistfully at you. 

“It led to stealing,” Andrew says, “Fights in the streets… Many people are actually leaving their homes to escape the violence.” The final part of his sentence is a whisper. You can sense the shame he feels. 

Big James stands with his arms crossed. “That’s the violence You suggest sending us into?” 

Brief silence fills the room as all eyes turn to Jesus. “What part of the parable caused this fight to break out?”

“The people outside the city.” Philip answers. “The ones on the highways and the hedges, the last to be invited and the last to accept the invitation.”

Jesus draws a sharp breath. “That’s what I suspected.”

John leans forward. “Speaking of which - the highways and the hedges - does that actually refer to Gentiles?” 

A deep sigh leaves the Messiah. “He who has ears to hear, let him hear. We leave in the morning. Everyone go home and gather your things. We take to the highways and hedges before dawn.” 

The Disciples go to stand, and next to you, John still looks worried. As Jesus speaks to comfort Philip and Andrew, you whisper in John’s direction. 

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just… Thinking.” he mutters. “How this might affect our ministry. What it might mean for us. If we must fight, then so be it. We’ve got strong men on our side who would be strong and capable in battle. I’m certain we’ll be able to snuff out this riot before it escalates even further.” 

Before you can reply that you don’t feel like the Messiah is aiming at such an approach, Jesus gets up from His seat, grabbing a few empty cups. “John, may I have a word?”

John picks up his head and looks up at his Teacher. “Yes, Rabbi.” He gives you a small smile as he gets up, and you nod at him. 

“Good luck, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Of course. Shalom, (Y/n), have a good night.”

“Sleep well, John. Shalom shalom.”

As you watch him head after Jesus, Who is currently rinsing out the cups, you let out a sigh. Being John’s childhood friend, you know better than anyone of his oftentimes brash nature out of sheer passion and dedication. 

The soft look in Jesus’ eyes, however, ensures you that He will take care of things. You smile at Him and stand to leave the house and find your own instead, giving Him a nod in greeting.

He mirrors it and turns to John, giving the former fisherman a special task.

_

The next morning, you’re sitting at Matthew’s old place, spending some time with Mary and Tamar as they work on their small business.

“Perhaps you should stay behind with us.” Tamar muses, “Help us out here.”

You shift and shake your head, smiling. “And miss out on all the tension? Hm, I’ve got a feeling that this is going to be a pivotal moment. The last thing I want is to be left out.”

As other followers of Jesus come trickling in, you check your belongings one final time - an extra tunic, a full waterskin, and another pair of sandals. On the bottom of your bag sits a stale piece of bread, so you toss it out. 

“Jesus is here,” Nathanael loudly announces, “Time to go!” 

Everyone moves to the door, momentarily gathering outside the building, where Jesus is patiently waiting for everyone. You follow the group as one of the final people to leave, putting the strap of your bag over your shoulder, getting ready to leave.

Before exiting the building, however, you halt on the threshold, turning to look inside the house one last time. Upon noticing John pouting as he is leaned against the wall, you frown slightly.

“Hey, John. What is going on? Come on, we have to go.”

He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest even tighter. “I’m fine, (Y/n). You wouldn’t get it.”

Planting a hand on your hip, you approach him. “What are you on about? By the way, where is your bag?”

John clicks his tongue, barely looking at you, muttering something under his breath that you cannot quite understand. 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.” 

He sighs. “Jesus wants me to stay here in Capernaum so I could wait for Simon.”

“He still hasn’t showed up, then?”

John lets out an exasperated sound. “No, he obviously hasn’t! Which is what frustrates me so much!”

“Why?”

“Because I want to come, too!” He looks at you with an expression that is nothing short of frustrated. “Everyone is getting to go out there with Jesus and witness perhaps a massive turning point in this ministry, and I get waiting duty! I want to go, too! I am also part of this group! He calls me beloved, so I must be important enough to see it too, right? I can’t stand it.”

You watch him for a long moment, slightly narrowing your eyes in thought. “Are you serious right now?" you question, although there is no reproach in your tone.

John grows restless under your scrutiny, exhaling sharply. 

“What, are you going to judge me for that?”

Pursing your lips, you hum. “John, son of Zebedee. This is not about you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he snaps. 

In spite of his anger, you remain calm. “I’ve known you forever, John. You’re always so keen on staying in the loop of things, which is a great trait to have. You are inquisitive, passionate, eager to learn. I admire that about you, my friend.”

His expression softens. “Huh, thank you for your kind words. But what does that have to do with anything?”

You step closer, putting a hand on his arm to comfort him. “Jesus loves you. He loves all of us. This entire ministry, however, does not revolve around us. About what we see, or about what we do, or about what He does for us. It is about what He does for them.” You nod at the door behind you, “For the world out there. For those who are weary, and wounded, and in need of healing.”

You pause, sighing.

“I know that it is difficult to possibly not be there when something pivotal happens, but it is not a given that we get to witness every single thing that will happen for the glory of Adonai. Besides, a lot has to happen behind the scenes. If Jesus did not need you to be here to wait for Simon, He wouldn’t have asked you to.”

“Jesus said that the success of this mission depends on Simon.”

You smile. “See, there you have it. Jesus can use you in many ways, even if you are not directly at His side.”

John lets out a sigh and lowers his gaze. Regretful about his outburst, he folds his hands in front of him. “I know.”

“Our plans do not always match up with His plans, but you trust Him regardless, hm?”

“I do. More than anything.”

Nodding, you pat his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Then we should not always rely on our own understanding of a situation. You might not be satisfied that you have to wait now, but in the long run, that feeling will make sense, and you will be glad that you indeed waited for Simon.”

The wry smile on John’s face makes place for a brighter one. He tilts his face back up, smiling.

“I hadn’t thought of it this way yet, (Y/n). Thank you for your perspective, that was very meaningful, and I can now see the value a bit better of Jesus asking me to stay behind.” He sighs, his smile slightly shrinking. “Although I am still a bit upset, how can I not be? You guys are going to get to the Decapolis! I wish I could be there right with you!”

“But Simon is necessary for the success of this trip, according to Jesus. Trust Him in this, too. Completely, okay?”

John sighs and nods. “Okay.” he says, exhaling. “Okay.”

You smile, stepping away from him. “Good.” you say, “I will see you soon, okay?”

He hums in acknowledgement and gives you a small wave, appearing way more positive now. “Thank you for your words. Safe travels, (Y/n). We will see each other before we know it.”

Nodding kindly, you agree to what he said and head after the others, finding them just outside the house. Big James puffs out his cheeks as he sees you and lets air escape slowly, knowing that you had to deal with a pouting John. However, you give him a small smile in turn. 

“Things will be alright with John,” you reassure his older brother, “He just needed another perspective on things to see that the task Jesus gave him is valuable in and of itself.”

“That is good to hear, (Y/n),” Big James states as you walk together into the outskirts of the village, following the group of Disciples. “Plus,” he adds, “It means we won’t have to deal with his nagging for a few hours at least.”

Chuckling, you shake your head, knowing that John feels useless regardless of the importance of his task, and bump a fist against James’ shoulder. 

“Tch, as if you nag less than he does. That you two haven’t physically chatted my ears off at this point is a miracle to say the least.”

James rolls his eyes, but cannot fight the grin that spreads over his face. 

“Fine, it means you won’t have to deal with half of the nagging.”

[darlincollins]

*sam and darlin walking to an event*

sam: we're gonna be late...

darlin: don't worry, i know a shortcut

sam 20 minutes later emerging from a hedge and spitting out leaves: IT’S NOT A SHORTCUT IF YOU HAVE TO CROSS THE HIGHWAY AND CLIMB OVER A ROOFTOP

darlin, pulling twigs out of their hair: WE'RE HERE AREN'T WE??

[adgp35]

Nancy Drew in California Dreaming, Part 4

Geoff Summers, breathing hard as he stood on the sidewalk glaring at Nancy, looked to his left and then to his right. Nancy could see that the young man had no intention of discussing the forged and stolen art with her or with anyone else. She noted with satisfaction however that to Summers’ right were the densely hedged gardens belonging to Bradley’s Bohemian well-to-do, and to his left was the busy highway, filling up now with rush hour traffic. The girl sleuth smiled smugly at the increasingly desperate looking man. “You can’t escape, Mr Summers,” the young woman told him, “so you may as well talk to me.”

“Go to hell, witch!” Summers suddenly exclaimed and with that, he turned around and ran off, back down the street the way he had come. Nancy, momentarily nonplussed, watched him flee in some surprise, but the girl detective soon rallied her thoughts and set off in pursuit. “Stop!” she called out after him. “You’re only making it worse for yourself! You haven’t a chance!” But Geoff took no notice, and continued to run down the boulevard, with the red-haired girl close behind.

To be continued.

AI image created via Microsoft Bing

[wisteriagoesvroom]

GAX POLITICS AU!!!!! this reminds me of my rob jetten x jesse klaver tiktok phase lol like gax would be like them but with more hate and say gex at questionable places💥🫵

no but like exactly!! before this week i didn’t know what a resse was and now im like.. omg… ur all cooking… amazing how we all see the vision…. all in our heads just hallucinating gax politics AUs in various countries but the vibes are almost identical. god i love fandom lol

the question is: ghey seggs in which questionable places. i raise you

1. reference library

2. empty parliament floor

3. highway gas station in middle of nowhere belgium

4. garden hedge at a soirée

5. cupboard of restaurant where their bosses just had a Tense Off-book Negotiation

6. at max’s surprisingly decent and well looked after apartment (max kicks the cats out of the room)

7. in a meeting room after a press con

8. after one of them hand-delivers important papers to the other… hand job, obviously

9. as election results roll in and they’re both half hard and half listening 🫡

10. when max impulsively jokes that they spend so much time together they should probably just elope or something. and george is like don’t be stupid our schedules don’t even allow that now pass me the goddamned sustenance stroopwafel and tell me what your minister is playing at with this regulatory question

in case y’all are wondering wtf im talking about…

[weird-al-song-tourney]

Are there any songs that you think its a missed opportunity for Al to have not parodied yet?

Well honeslty I'd love for all the artists that rejected him to have yknow...not been a bunch of sticks in the mud. >:[

But honeslty I'm surprised songs like "Call Me Maybe" , "Despacito", "Gangam Style" or other songs that yknow got...crazy ass popular didn't get weird Al'd. Not that I super WANT that but I think he'd do great with em.

One song I think he could do is like, how have we not heard him parody Take On Me? Or something like Livin' On A Prayer (Squidward On A Chair fills the void tho)

This is a personal one bc the song happens to be very important to me but I'd love to see Weird Al do a parody of All Star by Smash Mouth. It's iconic meme status these days combined with Weird Al's style would be amazing. Heck even other Smash Mouth songs too like Walkin' On The Sun.

Or maybe parody something like Don't Fear The Reaper, but that's one I mention because my dad & I bonded over that song a lot.

Oh man & y'know what? I'd LOVE if Weird Al did a style parody of Ben Folds! That'd be a sight to behold.... (shoutouts to over the hedge btw)

I also would LOVE to see him do an AC/DC Parody one day. As a fan of both I wish he'd have done a parody of like Highway to Hell or Thunderstruck. I mean come on he'd nail it. 💅

If anyone else has any ideas of what you think he should parody please reply or put your ideas in the tags. I'd love to hear it!!!!! Because my musical taste cannot do this question enough justice singlehandedly.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Obsessed with the way brown eyes look with the sunlight -Danny Words: 2,230 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Wonder' -by Shawn Mendes

XX: My Fiance Threatens to Set Us on Fire

I walk through the camp's forest until I run into Janus standing against a limestone wall, moving his keys from one hand to the other.

"Are you lost, girl?"

I eye them carefully. "Why are you in my dream?"

"We should be asking you that," the left head responds.

"Are you torn?" Asks the other. "If you are..."

"We'll get to know each other," Left grins.

"Or maybe not... she's seen enough to know better."

"Bah! Heroes never learn!" Leftie sneers. "Especially the siblings of Eros..." 

"We'll meet again, Arae Jackson," Janus says in unison.

Jason leans closer to the window. "What is that?"

"Where?"

"That road, the one that goes through the hills."

Piper seizes the headset and asks the pilot. "She says it's Highway 24. That's the Caldecott Tunnel. Why?"

Jason glares at the road. Ara tries to lean forward to look, but as she does, Leo scolds her again. "Seriously, stop that!"

"Fine!" She barks. "Gods, you're worse than Lily and—!" Her tongue freezes on its own. Leo glances at her with a little pout, she's got the feeling he knows what name she was about to say, but that's impossible. 

"We're a team, right?" He says after a moment. "I'm allowed to boss you around sometimes."

Ara scowls. "I have the feeling you'll abuse that power."

He smirks. "For your own good, ya know?"

"The crazy thing is I truly believe that you'd do it to help me," the girl snorts. "And I've been thinking about what your dad told you... us partnering up. He told me that too when I met him, I just... I didn't remember until you brought it up."

That is a lie, of course. She never forgot, and now she knows for sure he's the Hephaestus kid she's meant to help, but she's trying to ignore it, her feelings aren't leading to a platonic partnership and that's worrisome at best.

"What did he tell you?" Leo sighs. "That you need to be patient 'cause I'm always messing up?"

Ara makes a face. "He didn't like me."

The first time I saw Hephaestus I remember thinking: "Poor guy!" 

Now, what I'm thinking is: "Please, don't step on me!"—Which seems to catch his attention, cause he pauses to examine my tiny form.

"You're an Aphrodite."

"Your children teach me stuff," I blurt out in awe.

He squints as if he's having trouble discerning my face. "Arae Jackson," The god scoffs. "I wouldn't've chosen you."

I'm not expecting him to pay any compliments, but he could've kept those thoughts to himself! I mean, I like the guy! But he's just blunt, I think. Not a good trait when talking to someone who tends to sugarcoat everything she says.

"Ara's a good trainee!" Percy argues right away.

"We'll see about that," the god grunts.

"I—I have to get my dad home. I'm sorry, guys."

If Piper leaves, Leo and Jason are the only ones left capable of finishing the quest. The boy with amnesia, and the rookie with no training. Both weaponless.

"Oh," Leo speaks quietly. "I mean, absolutely. He needs you right now. We can take it from here."

"Pipes, no," Tristan manages to stand. "You have a mission. A quest. I can't—"

"I'll take care of him," Hedge steps in.

Piper hesitates. "You?"

"I'm a protector," the satyr shrugs. "That's my job, not fighting." He fixes his posture as soon as he says that. "Of course, I'm good at fighting, too."

"Yes."

"Terrifying."

"I learned it all from you," Ara nods.

"But I'm a protector, and I can do this," Hedge continues. "Your dad's right, Piper. You need to carry on with the quest."

"But... Dad..."

Tristan hugs his daughter, and Jason guides Ara and Leo away. "Let's give them a minute..."

Hedge goes with the ranger to bring Tristan's plane to where they are. Ara starts to feel an itch on her left shoulder and winces. 

"What's wrong?" Jason nods at her arm.

"Itchy," Ara grimaces. "But I can't scratch myself 'cause Mr. First-aid Valdez forbade me from squirming around."

"Since when do you listen to him?" Jason's amused by her statement. "And who appointed you as our caretaker, Leo?"

"She almost lost an arm saving your ass," Leo raises a brow and shrugs. "If she can multitask why can't I?"

Jason grins. "Well, the itch might be good, your arm might be getting some feeling back, Ara."

"I won't know for sure until I get it checked by a professional."

"By professional you mean an immortal fifteen-year-old?" Leo taunts her.

"Or an Apollo camper."

"Teenagers," Leo continues with a straight face. "That you trust blindly."

"I would trust any demigod with my life," the gravity with which she says it makes Leo feel like he's insulted her entire lineage.

Hedge hurries past them when Tristan faints. "Got him," he sits him upright. "I already asked our ranger friend to call up his plane. It's on the way now. Home address?"

"Everything's on here," Piper hands him the phone she fished out of her dad's pocket. "Address, his chauffeur's number. Just watch out for Jane."

"Who's Jane?"

Piper tells him about the assistant who's been brainwashed by Gaea, then the expensive and slick plane comes along, and it's time to say goodbye. Ara approaches the flight attendant and reaches for her compass.

"Hold this, please," the girl sets the object on the woman's hand.

"Oh my god!" The lady gasps, looking at Tristan with wide eyes. "What—"

Ara snaps her fingers and starts talking, maintaining eye contact with the woman. 

"This is Gleeson Hedge, Mr. McLean's personal trainer. This is top secret information, so we'll pay for your silence..." Piper hands her the money she got from Aphrodite. "Make sure no one sees Tristan leave the airport, and make sure no one wakes him until he's home, he gets cranky. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," the lady hurries to reply. "This way, gentlemen..."

Ara seizes the compass and puts it back in her pocket. At the boy's look of confusion, she points back with her thumb. "That's how you control the mist."

"Would you marry me?" Leo blurts out.

Hedge hugs Piper, and Ara attempts to lean down and do the same, but he stops her. "I know you're a big deal, but you better behave while I'm not here to keep an eye on you, alright? Make sure those hunters use top-tier cures apt for Olympians."

Ara chuckles, bumping fists with him. "You got it, Coach."

"You cupcakes take care of these girls, you hear? Or I'm gonna make you do push-ups."

"You got it, Coach," Leo grins, quoting Ara's words.

"No push-ups," Jason agrees.

"Thank you, Gleeson," Piper hugs him again. "Take care of him, please."

"I got this, McLean. They got root beer and veggie enchiladas on this flight, and one hundred percent linen napkins—yum! I could get used to this."

As they ensure the jet takes flight, Piper finally loosens up and starts crying. Jason hugs her. "Your dad's in good hands, you did amazing."

Ara pats the girl's head like Silena used to do with her. "You've done well. All I did during my first quest was keep a guy steady while my brother beheaded him—the guy was a monster," she explains when Jason looks at her horrified.

"And how old were you then?" Piper accepts the Kleenex Leo's offering.

"Ten," to everyone's surprise, Leo's the one who answers. "She was also ten when she fought the guy who got possessed by Kronos."

"He wasn't possessed by Kronos when I fought him," she specifies, "and I only threw an empty basket at—"

"You also threw a rock—"

"Wait, how long has it been since?" Jason frowns. "How old are you now, Ara?"

"She's fourteen, man," Leo responds.

"You're younger than all of us?" Jason asks in shock. "And you're the Strategus?"

"Seriously, how old do I look?" Ara frowns. "Your reactions are alarming—"

"Guys," Piper moves, pointing at something.

An iris message forms behind the blond boy's head. 

"Thalia!" Jason gasps.

"Thank the gods,"  it sounds like there's a heated fight going on around her. "We've found her—Where are you?"

"Oakland. Where are you?"

"The Wolf House! Oakland is good; you're not too far. We're holding off the giant's minions, but we can't hold them forever. Get here before sunset, or it's all over."

"Then it's not too late?" Piper holds her breath.

"Not yet. But Jason—it's worse than I realized. Porphyrion is rising. Hurry."

Fighting a lesser giant almost sent Ara to the underworld (corporeal form included). She can't imagine what might happen if she's forced to fight the king of the bunch with a broken arm.

"But where is the Wolf House?"

"Our last trip—The park. Jack London. Remember?" 

The message blurs into the air, and Jason stumbles back.

"Bro, you all right?" Leo holds him. "You know where she is?"

"That's the place where you saw your mother last, isn't it?" Ara guesses.

"I don't mind," the woman agrees.

"Yes. Sonoma Valley. Not far. Not by air."

"Ma'am," Piper smiles politely to the mortal ranger. "You don't mind helping us one more time, do you?"

"We can't take a mortal into battle," Jason stops her. "It's too dangerous. Do you think you could fly this thing?"

When he asks that, he's looking at Ara and Leo. Ara has journeyed in pegasus, hellhounds, motorbikes, chariots, a bronze dragon, and flying pigs—she's driven her father's Prius once or twice, but she's never flown a Helicopter.

Leo touches its surface and closes his eyes. "Bell 412HP utility helicopter—Composite four-blade main rotor, cruising speed twenty-two knots, service ceiling twenty-thousand feet. The tank is near full. Sure, I can fly it."

Ara stares at him with flushed cheeks. "Leo, if I live to turn eighteen, you can marry me."

Piper directs her attention to the ranger. "You don't have a problem with an under-aged unlicensed kid borrowing your copter, do you? We'll return it."

"I—I don't have a problem with that," the lady chokes out the sentence like it hurts her a little.

"Hop in, kids! Uncle Leo's gonna take you for a ride," he lets Jason and Piper climb in first, then he grins from ear to ear and offers his arm to Ara. "Would my beautiful fiancee like to copilot?"

Ara moves him out of the way. "I wouldn't miss the opportunity to sit at the front."

The girl puts on the headset to hear Leo over the noise, but he doesn't seem to need help, so she relaxes and enjoys the moment. She pulls out her compass again and her heart skips a beat.

"Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you see here?" She shows him the compass and Leo glances down at it, his hands doing their own thing without him paying attention. 

"What's that?"

"Almighty," she stares at the object, "but it's never worked... as a compass, I mean. I think can read it now."

"You understand what those symbols are?" He looks up at her.

"Maybe," Ara tilts her head. "Hey, I know we don't have fuel to waste but just for science... can you turn to the left?" Leo obliges, and the moment he does the needle changes position. Ara swears in ancient Greek. "Nemo was right!"

"Who?"

"Percy!" She laughs. "He was right! It points to where I need to go..."

"That's cool!" Leo drives the chopper to its original path. "And a relief, I'm only eighty percent sure I know what I'm doing..."

"You're great," Ara's gaze is full of esteem. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in a while, I was so wrong about you."

Leo blushes at her statement, he scowls at the sunlight ahead. "Shut up."

"I mean it!"

"Ara," smoke starts rising from his head, "don't be nice to me or I'll set us on fire."

"Oh." She looks away, now also blushing. "Okay. Sorry." 

After a while, the sun begins to set and it hurts Leo's eyes, so she searches their seats and finds a pair of aviator sunglasses. As soon as their fingers brush, his skin glows the same color as hers. Ara looks up and locks eyes with him for a moment. 

His chocolate-brown eyes had never looked this breathtaking, it's been snowing hard since they left camp, so Ara didn't know he looked like this with the sunlight.

Leo mumbles a thank you and puts the sunglasses on, but that doesn't help Ara's increasing pace of her heart, he looks great with those too.

Grover feels the presence of Pan and decides to follow it, so Tyson goes with him. Percy wants me to go too, but I'm against it. Hephaestus gave us a mission, I want to change his mind about me not being a good choice. 

I go with Percy and Annabeth, and that's how I discover my power, the one no one knows about.

My brother initiates a manhunt, and Annabeth scolds both of us. When Percy does something dumb I also get reprimanded, I have nothing to do with it, but I didn't stop him, so it's partially my fault cause Annabeth thinks I should know better.

The Telkhines have us cornered so Percy offers to be the distraction. Annabeth and I refuse, he insists, and that's when it happens.

There's a split second of nothing before I hear a buzz, like a lightbulb that takes ages to charge fully. A scarlet light blinds me and I think we've been attacked with some kind of magical dynamite, but I can't sense heat. 

I cover my eyes, and when I look through my fingers, I discover it wasn't an explosion. Percy and Annabeth are kissing, and they're glowing. I yelp and cover my eyes entirely once more.

"Be careful, Seaweed brain."

My friend gets up and runs, but Percy and I look at each other without knowing what to do, he's still glowing like a stoplight. He blinks a few times with a dazzled expression. 

"Ara, run!"

And I run.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris

[bluecoolr]

You Ain't Goin' Nowhere

Darrell arrives in Ambrose. [Part 1/5]

Links to Part 2 3 4 5

Warnings: the girls being teeth-rottingly sweet to newcomer, Lester being an excited rambling cutie, Bo being Bo, and jealous!Vincent

A/N: When I have all the parts ready, I'll be putting links on each post. I'm just really excited and wanted to post this. Also the title has no business being that threatening since I took it from a Byrds song...

Featuring the Sinclairs, Jason Vorhees, RZ Michael Myers and the ocs of @rottent33th (Ellie) @slaasherslut (Ava) @kalid-raven (Alia) @the-pinstriped-hood (Percy) @cries-in-latino (Red) and @angxlslasher (Merry). I hope y'all don't mind!

Sunlight woke Darrell the next morning. There was a dull pain in his neck where his backpack had been the night before. Stirring, he groaned and opened his eyes.

He was greeted by the sight of a large, dark snout. A moment of panic arrested him, until he remembered where he was. In a field. By the highway. The curious quadruped before him was not a razorback, but a cow. She chewed noisily as she inspected him.

"Down, Bessie." Darrell patted her head. She flicked her floppy ears and grazed on the grass right by him.

Darrell sat up from his makeshift bed. He used a liberal amount of water from his canteen to rinse his mouth and wash his face. Reaching deeper into his pack, he pulled out a scrupulously rationed breakfast of potato chips and a chicken sandwich.

Funny. He tried so hard to shake off the Marine in him, but here he was - acting like one again.

Well, minus the potato chips, he thought.

Bessie snuffled at the little ziploc bag, eager to have a taste. Darrell reached in, crushed a handful of chips, and fed it to her. Once he was done, he bid farewell to his new friend and straddled his bike.

"On my way now," he told his non-cattle friends through text.

Do a wheelie.

Darrell smiled involuntarily and asked Red, "Got bail money? 🤨"

Wheelie you fucking coward.

He did two on the empty highway. Just for fun.

The way to Ambrose was long and winding. Too long, he remarked, eyeing the fuel gauge. He cursed inwardly and, with the same breath, begged heaven to let him have enough to get there.

"Ack! Where's God when you need 'im?" he grumbled as his dirt bike stuttered.

He set the bike on its stand and scratched his head. No soul for miles. No help in sight. Guess he was going to have to push his defeated steed along. He went on for about thirty minutes or so, with the punishing Louisiana sun and the 40-ish pounds on his back bearing down on him.

Panting now, he turned from the Interstate to the byroad Ellie had told him to take. Trees hedged him from either side. The ground was a mixture of silt and dust. It made his throat scratchy.

Darrell became aware of an approaching vehicle from the thrum of an engine and the clatter of tools behind him.

"You need a hand, man?" asked the driver as he let his truck go idle.

Darrell looked through the open driver's side window and regarded the stranger politely. He was grimy and slightly flushed, no doubt from the exertion of a day's early work.

Darrell cleared his throat. "No... I need gas, actually."

The stranger cracked a pleased smile. "Well it's your lucky day! I got some gas right here."

He giddily rummaged about in the cab and retrieved a beat up looking gallon jug. The stranger stepped out and wordlessly urged Darrell to bring his bike forward.

"Please, if it ain't too much. I just need enough to get to Ambrose."

For a moment, the stranger, almost miserly, held back the jug. "Why're ya goin' to Ambrose?" he asked, face cloudy with suspicion.

"Visitin' some friends. M'overdue, s'matter o' fact. Was supposed to get there last night."

Realization twinkled dimly in the stranger's brown eyes. "Say… ya name ain't Darrell by any chance, is it?"

"Yessir, it is."

The stranger eased and flashed him a toothy grin. "Now, ain't it a small world," he cried. "I've heard loads about you from the girls."

Darrell rubbed the nape of his neck. He smiled. "Did ya?"

"Yeah! Boy, you've got everybody standing watch. Tell ya what," said the stranger, "Help me haul your bike into the back. I'll give you a lift."

"Aw, shucks… I-"

The stranger waved him quiet. The gas sloshed in the jug. "No ifs. No buts. No coconuts." He gestured to his truck. "Get."

Darrell stammered thanks and apologies for the trouble. The stranger moved the litter of animal carcasses.They loaded the bike onto the truck, shut the tailgate, and carried on.

"Sorry. What cha say your name was?"

The stranger chuckled. "Lester."

They shook hands as the truck went on its jittery way. Lester was kind to offer Darrell a rag to mop his sweat with. Darrell dragged the cloth over himself and wiped each of his fingers clean.

A strong feeling of liking for the traveler stirred in Lester. That rag was filthy. He had hesitated to hand it over, but Darrell had grabbed it without question.

"You can get gas at the station in Ambrose. Bo, m'brother, runs it."

Darrell shamefully looked at his boots. "Sorry 'bout the dust."

Lester gave another chuckle, his glance straying to Darrell's feet. "S'alright," he assured him, "Truck's had worse than that, f'ya know what I mean." He jerked his head toward the window behind them.

"Good I picked ya up or else you'd be trudging in that for 15 miles more."

"Preciate it, really." Darrell smiled. He was brushing dust off his pants. "Been walkin' for about half o' that 'fore ya found me."

Darrell was quite remarkable to look at, Lester decided.

His hair was the first thing you'd notice: Teal blue and long. The way it tumbled down his shoulders in wisps reminded him of paint, pulled out by water in bright, rippling clouds when you dip your brush into the glass.

There was a silver ring that pierced his plump, pale pink lower lip, and he seemed to have a habit of nibbling on it. He was also very tall. Taller than Bo or Vincent. Almost as tall as Michael. (Really, he didn't think there was anyone taller than that fella.)

His broad chest stretched the fabric of his shirt. His thighs were doing the same to his jeans.

He was handsome, Lester would give him that.

He was also sporting a knife on his right shoe.

Two kinds of bells rang in Lester's mind; An alarm to beware of this stranger, as he wasn't sure of his intentions, and another that told him to hurry and show him his own knife. After all, he had been polite. Hadn't been mean or fussy.

Lester was itching to pull out the bowie when Darrell cheerfully turned the conversation toward matters that concerned him - How had his day been? His work, the weather, the town, the girls? - things he was glad to talk about.

Before he knew it, he saw the wash-out up ahead.

"Think you'll make it?" inquired Darrell, his hand on the dash.

"Just have to flip the hubs into four-wheel."

He didn't have to ask. Darrell hopped out and got to work on the wheels on his side. The beat up truck rattled over the stones, the men inside shared a laugh. "Felt m'brain rattle in m'skull like a bean in a can!" Lester cried as he tried to shake himself right.

Gravel gave way to asphalt and they entered the town. Lester pointed out the gas station just at the end of Main Street. When Darrell asked for the grocer's, he did some quick thinking and said, "There's Flannery's back where we came, but don't cha go in there. F'Joe Flannery sees ya and gabs, you'd be in there all day. If ya need anythin', I'm sure Ellie would be happy to get it for ya. She's an amazing cook. There's Bo!"

His older brother gave the truck a cursory glance, and, with practiced charm, greeted their guest.

"You shoulda called in," said Bo, obligingly filling the dirt bike's tank with gas from the pump."Would've picked you up myself."

Lester had wandered off and was now coming back with the hose. He was aiming it at the bike. He turned the nozzle and a sudden jet of water blasted out of the end, splashing Bo and Darrell's shoes.

Noticing the scathing glare Bo gave him, Lester lowered the hose and apologized. "I got blood and gunk all over your wheels," he told Darrell.

"No! It's fine. It'll wash off." Turning to Bo, he declared, "Wouldn't have made it without him. He's a lifesaver." He extended one large hand and patted Lester's shoulder.

It prompted Lester to step in and swing his arm over Darrell's shoulders. He was awful pleased with himself. It didn't matter that he had to stand on his tippy-toes.

"Sure." Bo said dismissively. "You came down here all the way from where? Devil's Prick?"

"Yessir."

"How's it there? Heard it's haunted."

Darrell laughed. "By hicks like me."

While they spoke, they were blithely unaware of Ava and Percy scuttling from the Sinclair house, down Main Street, to Ellie's house. They had heard Lester's truck and spotted the tall man at the station.

They came running back, now with Ellie in tow, one hand hiking up her dress skirt and the other clutching a lime green frog.

When she screamed "DARRELL!", the three men leapt clean off the ground. Lester's fingers instinctively tightened on Darrell's jacket, and he had to clutch his chest to make sure his heart wasn't going to give.

Ellie shoved the frog into Lester's hands and braced her arms around Darrell's torso. "You made it! I was so worried when you didn't arrive last night!"

"I-I know, Ellie… I'm sorry."

She gave him a light squeeze. "Shh! No! Don't apologize. Now, I want you to meet my sisters."

She passed Darrell around for the girls to fawn over, which they did despite his shyness. "I'm covered in God knows what. I probably smell like a dog in the sun."

"That's two of us, then. I've been out in the garden."

"Alia and Michael are back there too," Percy said. "They'll be delighted to meet you!"

Ava looped her arm with Darrell's and started to lead him to the house Ellie shared with Vincent. "Come on! Jason and Merry are set up not far from there."

All three women began to chatter, making Darrell throw his head from side to side.

"That boy's gonna end up like a bruised fruit by sundown!" Bo chided. His warning fell on deaf ears.

He saw his twin in the distance - shoulders tense and visibly uneasy. Bo knew that look. He was sizing Darrell up, suddenly unhappy about the attention he was getting from Ellie.

Psst!

Vincent snapped out of it and met Bo's gaze. With a frown, Bo wordlessly told him to be nice. Try to get along for godsake.

Vincent, hunching as if to get away from a whip, buried his hands in his pockets and trailed after the girls.

"Here. Hold this."

Lester was holding out the frog.

"No," Bo said flatly - body poised to bolt.

"Ok."

Lester set the frog down on the ground and trotted after the girls. It stayed put, locked in a standoff with Bo.

He picked up the hose. Aimed and blasted the frog away. Then, he wheeled Darrell's bike into the garage.

[hopetorun]

for the ship kiss meme, number 28 for matthew and leon, please 😘

a kiss as a lie

Matthew drives the three hours up highway 2 because unpleasant as a fractured hand is, it’s nothing on a high ankle sprain. The road rolls by, less familiar the farther he gets from Calgary but still somehow basically the same. His hand throbs where he’s clenching the wheel too tight, and somewhere in the outskirts of Edmonton he has to pull over and peel the brace off to stretch it.

It’s a long time to listen to himself think, especially since he’s trying not to do that too much right now. Too many moving pieces to make any decisions. Johnny hedged when Matthew talked to him two days ago. Dad equivocated when Matthew asked for his opinion. He didn’t even bother to ask anyone else, but Mom had some input anyway, maybe the most helpful of the bunch—there’s no objectively correct answer, so Matthew just has to pick what he wants.

Leon lets him in, limping obviously. There’s a pair of crutches leaned up against the wall by the kitchen that Matthew looks at and then decides to ignore. The silence is heavy, Matthew not asking about his ankle and Leon not offering anything to fill the space around it.

“Sorry about the sweep,” Matthew says finally.

Leon shrugs. He steps into Matthew’s space and kisses him, and Matthew melts into it immediately. That’s what he’s here for, after all.

It’s good, being kissed like this. Getting his hands on Leon’s skin and Leon’s mouth on his neck. Leon touches him carefully, even though Matthew’s not the one who’s limping through his own house, and kisses him with an edge of desperation, and murmurs Matthew’s name when Matthew presses into him.

After, Leon tucks his face into Matthew’s neck. “Only three months until the preseason.”

There’s always Flames-Oilers in the preseason. Matthew just doesn’t know if he’ll be playing in those games yet. He nods anyway, chin knocking against Leon’s forehead once, and then he nudges Leon’s head up.

“Yeah,” he says softly, a simple statement of fact. Not a promise. Not anything.

He kisses Leon before either of them can say anything else.

[j-august]

June was dying among the roses, the hedges were darkening to a duller green; the blatancy of red brick sprawled along the highway was a reminder that the present builds inexorably over the empty fields of the past.

Dorothy L. Sayers, Gaudy Night