#slushy imprinting

[dodounchained]

[scealaiscoite]

.☽༊˚ a hundred assorted prompts

¹⁾ raspberry lip gloss

²⁾ pajama bottoms

³⁾ a silver lighter

⁴⁾ fresh honey

⁵⁾ flushed cheeks

⁶⁾ a fogged-up mirror

⁷⁾ the imprint of a belt buckle on skin

⁸⁾ helium balloons

⁹⁾ a broken cocktail glass

¹⁰⁾ old playing cards

¹¹⁾ chipped green nail polish

¹²⁾ a brown leather wallet

¹³⁾ bullet holes in a wooden wall

¹⁴⁾ seashells lined up along the curve of a spine

¹⁵⁾ beaded curtains

¹⁶⁾ pomegranate seeds

¹⁷⁾ a carabiner heavy with keys

¹⁸⁾ fresh-cut orchids in a pottery vase

¹⁹⁾ vending machine cigarettes

²⁰⁾ an out of date map

²¹⁾ a creaky wooden gate

²²⁾ a minifridge stocked with budweiser and paracetamol

²³⁾ snapdragons growing between pavement slabs

²⁴⁾ smudged yellow eyeshadow

²⁵⁾ slept-in braids

²⁶⁾ library books that’ll never be returned

²⁷⁾ a pink-tiled shower

²⁸⁾ a honeybee on a linen shirtsleeve

²⁹⁾ burnt popcorn

³⁰⁾ watching an eclipse from bed

³¹⁾ a black lace bralette

³²⁾ a tattered patchwork quilt

³³⁾ blue raspberry bubblegum

³⁴⁾ a rusted fishing rod and a dried-up lake

³⁶⁾ the taste of whiskey on someone else’s lips

³⁷⁾ rose-scented candles burned down to the wick

³⁸⁾ crescent-shaped coffee stains on a wooden tabletop 

³⁹⁾ odd socks 

⁴⁰⁾ a loose thread on a jumper sleeve

⁴¹⁾ warm sheets on cold skin

⁴²⁾ amber-tinged perfume

⁴³⁾ gold jewelry 

⁴⁴⁾  a calloused palm against a soft cheek 

⁴⁵⁾ a busted headlight

⁴⁶⁾ sunrise from a jail cell

⁴⁷⁾ hand tattoos that weave around fingers

⁴⁸⁾ coconut shampoo

⁴⁹⁾ a doorbell sounding in the middle of the night

⁵⁰⁾ ladybugs crawling across a headstone

⁵¹⁾ grass stains on blue jeans

⁵²⁾ a loaded saddlebag

⁵³⁾ a dusty wine cellar

⁵⁴⁾ a bikini top draped over a bedpost

⁵⁵⁾ snow in july

⁵⁶⁾ dirt-red mountaintops

⁵⁷⁾ goosebumps in a heatwave

⁵⁸⁾ an empty dinnertable

⁵⁹⁾ a fresh manicure and bruised knuckles

⁶⁰⁾ zombie movies

⁶¹⁾ bitten lips

⁶²⁾ dark eyes full of tears

⁶³⁾ a soft cast in summertime

⁶⁴⁾ stale coffee in paper cups

⁶⁵⁾ frozen peaches on a black eye

⁶⁶⁾ acrid smoke

⁶⁷⁾ bound hands

⁶⁸⁾ animal tracks

⁶⁹⁾ unwound vhs tapes

⁷⁰⁾ cartoon plasters

⁷¹⁾ lipstick marks on shirt collars

⁷²⁾ silver bangles

⁷³⁾ sharing a coat in a downpour

⁷⁴⁾ fields with grass at waist-height

⁷⁵⁾ daisy chains up to your forearm

⁷⁶⁾ rolled-up shirtsleeves

⁷⁷⁾ the smell of bleach in a dark room

⁷⁸⁾ a shared sleeping bag

⁷⁹⁾ a new haircut

⁸⁰⁾ swimsuit tanlines

⁸¹⁾ perfume clinging to a pillow

⁸²⁾ lollipops dangling between lips

⁸³⁾ a badly-timed grin

⁸⁴⁾ old books

⁸⁵⁾ tongues stained from slushies

⁸⁶⁾ waking up in a hailstorm

⁸⁷⁾ dying sunflowers

⁸⁸⁾ colourful sunglasses

⁸⁹⁾ the last pew

⁹⁰⁾ tall, rattling windows in a storm

⁹¹⁾ six missed calls

⁹²⁾ sticks of incense burned down to the last

⁹³⁾ bunk beds

⁹⁴⁾ matching sets

⁹⁵⁾ ruined mascara

⁹⁶⁾ a boxing ring

⁹⁷⁾ stained glass windows

⁹⁸⁾ fairy forts

⁹⁹⁾ a cluttered bedside table

¹⁰⁰⁾ a hangover in the evening

[destielbeatlesminibang]

Title: The Long and Winding Road

Author: FriendofCarlotta

Artist: thestarsmakemedream

Rating: Explicit

Summary: 1970: Sixteen years have passed since Dean and Castiel parted ways — separated after years of loving each other quietly and secretly at the boarding school they both attended.

Life took them along two very different paths, with Dean drifting across the country for years while Castiel launched a career in academia at Princeton. But now, a twist of fate is set to reunite them: as teachers at the same school where it all began.

Will they be able to find their way back to each other, or is it too late to start all over again?

Tags: Reunion, Second Chance at Love, Getting Back Together, Teacher Dean, Professor Cas

Posting on June 24

Keep reading for a short excerpt.

It’s just a door, really. A perfectly ordinary-looking door — dark and heavy wood with a brass knob worn smooth by frequent handling.

And yet the door, once closely examined, carries the imprints of memories within it — haunted by the ghosts of the many who have stepped across its threshold to meet their fate. There are scuff marks on the frame from uncountable numbers of satchels scraped along it as their young owners made their exit from the room within — triumphant or aggrieved, depending on the nature of the conversation they’d just escaped. In winter, Castiel remembers, the floor in front of that threshold would always be covered in muddy, slushy shoe prints left by boys waiting to have their tremulous knocking answered.

But, as it isn’t winter now, there are no prints in evidence. Instead, the door’s wood seems swollen with the heat of summer, expanded to more fully occupy its frame. It’s probably going to stick in that frame a little, Castiel thinks, whenever he finally gathers the courage to open it and step through.

Of course, it’s possible that the door is just a fucking door and Castiel is stalling.

As a matter of fact, there can be no doubt that he is. Because for all his rhapsodizing about the door’s scuffed frame and swollen wood, its real significance lies in the plaque mounted on it — at eye height for an adult male of average size, but towering above the heads of many of the young boys who come here, to their teacher’s office, for guidance or reprimand.

The plaque, winking at Castiel in polished-brass innocence, reads "D. Winchester."

[igotanidea]

Cinnamon: werewolf!Jason Todd x reader

Request: Yes, by anon ;)

Happy birthday to the one and only Jay Todd!

***

“Out of everyone, it has to be him, why!?”

“Are you jealous, Grayson?” Damian raise an eyebrow at his older brother. Much to everyone’s surprise, the blood soon spend last half an hour listening to Dick ranting and complaining about how unfair it was that out of the entire batfamily it was Jason who get the ability to turn into a wolf. And to make the situation even worse, he was an alpha.

“Jealous?! No! Of course not! Definitely not! Maybe a little…..?”

“If anything he envies Jason that little beta girl, he’s been seeing…….” Stephanie chimes in, chuckling at Dick’shock.

“A…. a beta? So what, he’s got a girlfriend now? Why don’t I know it?!”

“Are you three having fun gossiping about my life?!” Jason leans on the doorframe clearly annoyed at his siblings talking and discussing his private matters.

“Plenty.” Damian smirks vindictively

“You have a girlfriend?!” Dick looks at Jason with the biggest doe eye possible, trying his best to get any information out.

“Screw you Dickhead…..”

“Come on, Jaybird, don’t be like that!”

“I’m not telling you shit!”

“Pleeeeaaasseeeeee…….” Dick grabs his little brother, clinging to him, dead set on not letting go before retrieving as little as the scraps “You never tell me anything anymore….”

“Yeah… wonder why is that…..” Stephane mutters sipping on her slushie

“You’re insufferable, Grayson……”

“I’m just your wonderful, caring, older brother……”

“Nosy, intrusive, controlling, gossiping…..” J

“Hey! That is….. a bit true…..” Dick pouts “but still caring!!”

“I’m done with you. I’m going out…..” Jace mutters turning towards the door

“Can I watch you turn?!” Damian yells after him, his love for the animals taking over as the youngest Wayne rushes after Jason, hoping to see him transform into that beautiful, majestic wolf. “Todd!!”

However, what comes in package with being a werewolf is speed and even Damian with Robin skills could not compare with the rate of transformation. When Damian reached the door, Jason was already gone, the only trail of him being the imprint of foot on the path leading to the manor.

“Damn…..”

***

Jason refused to answer any of Dick’s question not because of how intrusive they were, but because he was afraid to be forced to put a tag on what he had with Y/N.

She was… something.

And he felt something for her.

Even if he wasn’t sure what it was.  

It was not normal for an alpha to get connected to beta. The rule was simple as it was. Alpha paired with omega. ALWAYS. So Y/N was an anomaly. On every possible field.

And now his wolf instinct made him run to her. Her scent were calling him.

Cinnamon.

She always smelled like cinnamon.

Maybe it was because of her human profession, since she was a baker and her show-off dish was cinnamon rolls and apple pie. Or maybe not. Honestly he wasn’t sure of anything, but the animal in him felt that smell and craved her.

So he run. As fast as his furry body and four strong legs allowed him.

He needed her.

And he could feel something was wrong.

He found her in the forest next to her house, her white fur shining in the light, as she laid her head on the paws looking …. sad. Like a beaten dog.

But the second she sensed him, she put the head up, looking his direction tilting it at him in the same gesture she did in her human form. And it made him feel again, wanting to do something, anything to cheer her up somehow.

Maybe he could try chasing her around? That was something that would make him feel better, surely, but Y/N was a lady in every meaning of the word. As surprising as that sounded, she hated getting dirty, avoided getting dirty, always cleaned her fur after stepping into the mud. Like a royalty. Which was even more shocking considering the fact, that as a baker she had flour everywhere on her face and clothes and hair. Maybe that was why her fur was white.

“Hey, Jace….” She called to him telepathically

“You good, Y/N?”

“just tired. Busy day at the bakery. Needed to get out of the human form and just feel instead of think.”

“Explains why you’re in the forest.”

“You look like you needed escape too.”

“Oldest brother getting intrusive.”

“Oh, yeah, family troubles….” If she was a human he would chuckle at that moment.

“Speaking from experience?”

“Maybe…..”

“Wanna run?”

“No.”

“All right…..” he walks towards her and nudge her nose with his playfully, nuzzling his head into his, hoping whatever it is on her mind will subside when he make her feel.

“Jace….?”

“I know….” he plops on the ground, paws in front of him waving his tail a sign for her to lay next to him. He knows. He knows exactly what she needs. He can feel it. And he lets her. No matter how out-of –character it may seem for him. He signed up for this. He signed up for her. And to be completely honest (not that he would admit it to Grayson, of course) he likes those silent moment with her. Only them in their wolf forms, out of the civilisation, out in the open, feeling, hearing, sensing. It’s nice and peaceful and quiet and he feels like he can be himself when she’s next to him, so close.  And it was enough. It was perfect.

***

Couple hours later, still in his werewolf form he walked her back home, not that she needed escort, but he wanted to do this. Or maybe he didn’t want to part with her.

Acting like a gentleman he turned around when Y/N turned back into human, grabbing a shirt from behind the door to cover herself. She had a twig in her messy hair, her eyes were big and shiny and her heartbeat was significantly faster than it should. Side effects of transmutation.

He should go.

He really should go.

But the way she kept standing on the threshold looking at him made him stay, unable to make a single move.

They both felt the connection.

Wolf and human.

Human and wolf.

Two wolfs. Two humans.

“Jason…..?” she trailed, taking a step forward, reaching for his fur and stroking it gently, causing him to lean into his touch. Neither of them seemed to care that the neighbours might be surprised to see a giant wolf in front of the house in the suburbs.

He knew it was not easy for her to show herself to him in her human form. It could only mean one thing. She needed him to take care of her. She needed to feel his warm, big, strong, animal body next to her. His warmth, his presence, his soft, silky pelage.

“Stay?” she whispered. “I really need some company tonight. And I had the door rebuilt to make sure you fit in inside. Please?” she looks into his eyes and it’s like as if she was reaching straight to his soul.

He can’t leave her.

Even if his sibling would tease him in the morning about not coming home for the night.

He can’t leave her.

He’s more than happy to lay on the floor in her leaving room having her arms wrapped tightly around him, making her feel safe and taken care of. Serving as her pillow.

Feeling her.

Feeling the cinnamon smell.

[shieldofiron]

They roll into town long after midnight. Steve’s drooling, foot up on the dash, gorgeous face pressed up to hard against the leather of the Camaro’s seat he has a little imprint when Billy nudges him awake.

It’s already bitter cold in Indiana, in the middle of the night. Steve looks out into the woods and shivers, relaxing into Billy’s hand at the back of his neck. Nothings out there any more, but the memory lingers. Billy puts on the Santa hat that’s gotten smushed by their suitcases, bopping his head until Steve finally gives in and giggles. They traipse up the porch, suitcases in hand, slushy snow sticking to their shoes.

Joyce answers the door in her dressing gown and gives them each a hug.

“Hey mom,” Billy breathes in her scent, the lingering cigarette smell and soft floral shampoo, “We’re home for Christmas.”

[intertexts]

ROS what si new haven wards. what is that.... i thought u and mac were just talkin abt somethin from like s2 of pd but u guys have benn talkin abt worm in regards to it too so i am Curious......... is it an au u guys made or something I WANNA KNOWWWW!!!! god i need 2 keep reading worm.....

OUGH. AWESOME ASK TO RECEIVE. U HAVE ACTIVATED. AUTISM BLAST!!!!!!! preemptively tagging @stuck-in-the-ghost-zone about this also. ur input is necessary.

new haven wards is effectively, prime defenders worm au :] putting the gang in the much heavier, darker, higher consequences world that spends a lot more time & puts a lot more weight on the concept of child soldier heroes!!!! putting our little guys in the blender and hitting pulse until it's a slushie!!! playing with them like playing w ants and a magnifying glass..... u get the idea!! junior heroes in the training system in parahumans or at least on earth bet r called wards, ergo. new haven wards!!

a lot of the main differences at this point r in powers & maybe characterization a bit.... in parahumans the way u get powers is through going through severe and life-breaking trauma!!! (& also there r some rules via how powers develop irt trigger events & also worm just has..... my fucking favorite power system ever. its so good.) so their powersets r a bit different than in canon, they r 1 billion times more codependent and fucked up (they r being systematically exploited & have no one really but each other & r put in situations where murder and sexual and racial violence and like straight up flayed corpses r par for the course!!) anyway, their hero names r failsafe (dakota) imprint (virion), whisperer (wibby-- he took his brother's last name in this au!) & [dial tone sound] (ashe)(have not thought abt ashe much bc mac has not gotten to the part in worm that explains how i think he would work in this world n i dont wanna thoroughly develop him without them!!) <333

[utter-queer-nightmare]

Something I can't stop thinking about and a lot of people may disagree with;

VERONICA WAS JUST AS BAD FOR JD AS HE WAS FOR HER

In the following rant, I will only be talking about the musical, not the film.

I see a lot of Heathers fans talking about what a sweet baby Veronica was and how she got caught up in something she never wanted to be a part of. And that is wrong.

At the beginning of the musical, before Veronica meets/starts dating JD, we see Veronica looking admiringly at the Heathers. She acknowledges their cruelty ("She is a mythic bitch") while also wishing to be one of them. Even in the midst of a song about how she wishes the world could be kinder, she admits that she would also choose the easier, crueller route if only she thought she could. After her (willing!) transformation into a Heather, we see her almost immediately begin to neglect her only actual friend, Martha ( "Dear Diary: It’s been 3 weeks since I became friends with the Heathers." "I’m really sorry that I flaked on you last week."). It is also before meeting JD that Veronica tricks Martha with the Ram Note. Despite not wanting to at first, we see her being quite quickly/easily persuaded. It's also worth noting that she makes no attempt to help Martha between giving her the note and seeing her at the party. Even then, she didn't stop Martha from talking to Ram, though she did tell her to leave the party when the Heathers borough out the Martha-Piñata.

In the middle of Veronica's morality crisis comes JD, an abused traumatised teenager with an addiction to guns, explosions and slushies. At first, JD seems pretty set on getting through high school relatively quietly, since he believes his dad will force him to move away soon, so there's no point in making friends/getting involved. He only beats up Kurt and Ram after ignoring them doesn't work, and actively tells Veronica not to go through with the Ram Note. He quickly becomes dependent on Veronica, who he imprints on almost like a duckling does, on the first person to show him kindness. At this point, he essentially becomes a loaded weapon for Veronica to point and shoot. He sees her being upset and he does what he thinks is right to protect her. While he does have his flaws (mainly lying to Veronica about Heather, Kurt and Ram's deaths), it's important to remember that he grew up in a violent house and associates certain types of violence with love. I also think seeing Veronica (someone he loves) being hurt/abused will've brought back feelings of anger and helplessness from seeing his mother abused. There's a chance her suicide left him with a literal "kill or be killed" mentality. It's also possible the knowledge that he couldn't help his mother led him to be more extreme in his protection of Veronica than he otherwise might've been.

After Kurt and Ram's deaths, Veronica asks JD to stop being violent, AND HE DOES. I think this is something very important that a lot of people ignore/overlook. Violence/murder is a legitimate addiction for JD, and he mentions in Freeze Your Brain that his addictions help with self-harming and even suicidal thoughts and feelings ("When the voice in your head, Says you're better off dead, Don't open a vein! Just freeze your brain...") And yet, when Veronica asks him to, he stops cold turkey. Unfortunately, going completely cold turkey is always very difficult, and JD begins carrying a gun again. We only see it when he's at home with his Dad, who we can see earlier makes him uncomfortable/unsafe (depending on how the actor plays it). It's possible, though stretching a bit, that JD was only carrying at home because of the lack of safety with his dad. However, Veronica leaves him as soon as she sees that he's struggling.

To summarize, she forced someone with untreated trauma and a long history of homicidal/suicidal urges to quit an addiction cold turkey and then left when he began struggling with staying sober. Again, I'm not saying that JD was blameless, or that Veronica should've been responsible for her boyfriend's mental health when she was struggling with her own, but there were better ways to approach the situation and it feels a lot like Veronica used JD and left him. He was completely dependent on her, and I believe both of them knew that. At the very least, JD seemed to fully acknowledge the way he "needs" her (": I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! I can’t make it alone! Finish what we’ve begun!") Veronica, however, isn't dependent on JD in the same way. She, knowingly or unknowingly, uses JD. She even admits "I wanted someone strong who could protect me", then immediately turn the blame on him, claiming her "infected" her. At any rate, this is when JD goes full homicidal maniac. It also says a lot about Veronica that she does not attempt to inform any teachers, local law enforcement or her parents about what was going on. While I admit her parents probably wouldn't believe her, a teacher would easily be able to check the boiler room to confirm/disprove Veronica's accusations, and police/fire would definitely take a bomb threat seriously, especially from a school that had three student suicides in the past few months. I'm not sure whether she was banking on JD's dependence on her to prevent him from hurting her or if she was worried her involvement in the previous suicides would be uncovered, but neither is a good enough reason not to have the school evacuate the way a teacher/emergency services would be able to.

All in all, JD and Veronica were both flawed people and they amplified negative qualities in each other. It's not fair to treat either of them as blameless or perfect when most of the plot of Heathers wouldn't've happened if they hadn't met and brought the worst out in each other. The End.

[captains-simp]

heksbdkshs you’re jock!carol fics give me life, could you do one where jock!carol and the reader have been keeping their relationship a secret and one of those girls that love gossip finds out and like the next day everyone knows ??

You've met soft!jock!Carol. Now it's time for angsty!jock!Carol

4.6k words

Warning: homophobia (plus slurs), bullying, mentions of declining mental health mild violence and some clique high school douchebags (yes that gets a warning)

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You barely looked up when the paper airplane landed swiftly on your desk in front of you. It was only when you caught a glimpse of the red and blue stripe along the side that you spared it a glance. You prodded it with your pen and dragged it across the desk towards you, feeling a pair of eyes watching you eagerly from the back of the class. You unfolded the note carefully until a small sprawl of letters became visible, barely spelling out the word 'purple'.

You bit back a smile at the message and scrunched it up into a tight ball, throwing it in the bin near your desk before going back to writing your notes. You wanted to turn around and meet the eyes you were certain were staring at the back of your head but you knew you couldn't. It had become routine and you swore it was still the hardest part of your day - pretending you didn't notice her.

The bell in the corridor rung loudly and the second it did everyone in the class got up from their seats, ignoring the final reminders from the teacher at the front. Students swarmed into the corridor and amongst the crowd you lost sight of her for a few short moments until the wave of blonde hair appeared ahead of you where she maneuver to the side to be greeted by others in the same blue jacket. You caught her eye for a split second as you went by but it was no more than that. You wished so much that it could have been longer, that you could confidently stroll down those corridors hand in hand with her. A short hug. A brief kiss. A small smile. Anything. You just wished you could have more than fleeting moments with the blonde.

It felt like you could finally breathe properly when you left the suffocating building. The crowd dispersed into smaller groups while you walked out of the school grounds with a slight trot in your step. The further you went the less people you saw until the streets you walked down were near empty. The small corner shop eventually came into sight and you sped up slightly at the sight of your destination, not spying the red car you were always looking out for but knowing she was somewhere close by, she always got there first.

Instead of going into the corner store, you went through the narrow alleyway besides it and around the back of the store. You weren't in a sketchy part of town and even if you were you wouldn't have been afraid of going down the alley, not when you knew who was around the corner waiting for you. You had told her that last time you were there when she had asked you out of sheer curiosity. Apparently she wanted to challenge that truth.

A pair of hands shot out besides your and covered your eyes in an instant, not giving you any chance to stop it. Before you could even give a startled cry, her body pressed firmly against your back and the familiar smell of vanilla surrounded you. Relaxing in her grip, you felt her sway playfully as she leaned forwards to plant soft kisses along your neck. "Guess who?" She mused and you smiled as you tilted your head back for her.

"Hey, Care Bear." Carol groaned against your neck as she pulled her hands away. "I told you not to call me that." She complained, though her smile betrayed her when she spun you around to face her. You instinctively wrapped your arms around her neck as she held your waist softly, kissing you with enough passion to tell you she had been missing you too.

"How'd your test go?" Carol asked between kisses as she guided you backwards to lean against the nearest wall.

"Okay, I passed." You said absentmindedly. "How'd your game go?"

"Okay, I won." She copied and you couldn't help but smile faintly.

"That film you wanted to watch is on tonight, at 11. Wanna go?" The Captain asked as she stopped kissing you to talk properly and kept her hold on you so you stayed close.

"There's show times a lot earlier than 11." You laughed but stilled when Carol scrunched up her nose. "What? You don't want to be seen in public with me?" You teased but there was something very genuine to your question. You felt a familiar pang in your chest when Carol's grip loosened and she looked away.

"Y/n, we've talked about this." Your girlfriend sighed.

"I know, I'm sorry." You muttered as you tried to look as unbothered as possible but knew your face gave away the disappointment you felt so intensely. "You know if I could I would go out at all hours with you, where ever you'd want to go. It's just not that simple." It was hard to truly believe those words when your girlfriend sounded so exasperated, like she was having to explain to a child why they couldn't draw on the walls or have candy for breakfast.

"I know." You said because you really did and you felt guilty for bringing it up.

Carol had told you before you had even started dating her that your relationship would have to be secret. You didn't go to the most gay-friendly school for one thing. There were no openly gay couples there and to be honest you didn't have the nerve to be the first. Carol was content on being popular and you were happy staying under the radar with no intentions to change that. Above all Carol believed it would make securing her scholarship a great deal harder. You were never sure if that was just her fears or if it could really affect it but you respected where she was coming from. That didn't stop it hurting. It didn't stop you envying all the couples that got to openly love their partners. You always reminded yourself that keeping your relationship secret took as much of a toll on Carol as it did on you, she was just far better at hiding it. She was good at hiding a lot.

"Is that a no on the movie?" Carol asked with a strong hint of upset in her voice and unintentionally heart wrenching puppy dog eyes.

"11 right? Sounds like we have a lot of time to kill." You smiled wholly as you glanced at the old blanket fort you had built together months ago, right after you had gotten red and blue slushies that you had spilt on one of the blankets inside and stained purple. That wasn't the only thing that was turned purple that day but was the one that seemed to be permanent.

Carol smiled eagerly and wrapped her arms around you tightly again. "I love you, you know that right?" She asked genuinely and you returned her bright smile.

"Always, and I love you too, Care Bear." Carol rolled her eyes but kissed you softly again, treasuring the feeling of your soft lips against hers and the vague taste of the lunch she had discreetly bought you that day.

*

You swung open your locker door and made to shove as many of your school books inside as you could until you halted at the sight of a small, folded up, piece of paper in the base of your locker. You crammed your books into the tight space and stood as close as you could to it as you unfolded the note, knowing it wasn't for the eyes of the rest of the world. 'East feild field supply shed, lunch' was all it read in the familiarly rushed handwriting. You scrunched the note up and put it in your pocket, locked your locker and made your way down the corridor with a sense of uncertainty in your step. Carol never wanted to meet inside school - it was practically a rule. You would text each other as much as you could and even call if you were lucky, but you were never physically together.

You continued on to the field and walked across as nonchalantly as you could. You only vaguely knew where that specific supply shed was because it was rarely ever used and not to mention half submerged in the woodland bordering part of the field. You glanced around as you neared it and when you were sure no one was near by you dipped behind the back to an awaiting Carol, sat cross legged on the floor and trying to balance a spoon on her nose.

"Hey, are you alright?" You asked hastily as you put your bag down on the floor and stared at your girlfriend in concern.

"Of course I am, you're here." She said simply and held both her hands out to you. You took them with a confused smile as Carol guided you to sit on her lap and cupped your cheek with her hand.

"Are you sure? We don't usually- we never-" Carol pecked your lips to successfully silence you.

"I know, but I missed you too much." She said with a contagious smile. "Really. I just wanted to see you." Your smile grew as you nodded and lent forward slightly to kiss the blonde back.

"I missed you too."

You stayed like that for the rest of your lunch break, enjoying each other's company and embrace as you ignored the rest of the world that wasn't shielded by the old wood around you. It was pretty much perfect. You knew it couldn't become habit so you tried your hardest to just focus on the there and then. Carol seemed to be thinking the same thing, letting her guard down more than she ever had when you had to part days.

The Captain chuckled as she kissed you after backing you into the shed door. You pushed her back lightly with a giggle, feeling giddy from everything happening. "We gotta go." You laughed more when Carol trapped you against the shed, clearly not having any desire to attend her next lesson. "Carol." You scorned, making her pull away only to gaze at you adoringly.

"Okay." She huffed and stepped back to give you space to move. The moment you did she laced your fingers together and held up your hand to her lips, giving the back of it a soft kiss before letting you go. You grinned back at her as you started in opposite directions, your hand still tingling from your girlfriend's soft imprint.

You were both so blissfully unaware of your surroundings you forgot to make a quick check of anyone near by. Neither of you were aware of the eager eyes following both your steps, nor the digital lens that followed with them. However that was something that became very much apparent the next day. The eyes that landed on you as you ventured down the school corridors weren't subtle. They weren't kind either.

You felt like there was a spot light on you everywhere you went and it went on for a while. Some people would look away once you glanced anxiously in their direction while others stared back with a distasteful and all together brutal glare. It was clear that everyone knew something you didn't, something that soon brought your mind to Carol. Where was she?

That was a question you had to wait a while to be answered. Your girlfriend wasn't in any of the few classes you had together, something that wasn't completely unheard of for her but was especially anxiety inducing on that day. It was during lunch break that you finally saw her. You were thrilled and filled with relief when you saw the blonde hair and blue jacketed figure making its way towards you where you sat under a tree on the far edge of the field. However as she got closer and you were able to distinguish the infuriated look upon her face, all the relief drained away. You had seen her angry before. She had been known to have a short fuse and with a team that wasn't the brightest and some games not going the way she would have wanted, you knew what angry Carol entailed. But what you saw that day was something new.

"What the fuck?!" She yelled and you stumbled back a couple of steps in shock.

"W-what?" You fumbled when you realized Carol's new found fury was directed at you.

"What did you do?" She demanded as she advanced to being a short step away from you. Suddenly, having Carol so close didn't hold the comfort it usually did.

"I don't know. I don't know what's going on! Everything was fine until..." you trailed off when the Captain turned her attention to her phone. You glanced between her and the screen, not understanding why she suddenly didn't want to pay you any attention. However, when she showed you her screen your heart dropped. Any other couple wouldn't have minded the picture. They may even have loved it. You and Carol couldn't take a moment to admire the moment that was captured, because you both knew what it meant. You were so close together in the photo, arms tightly around each other as you shared a kiss. You were unbreakable. Were...

"Who... how did they..." You barely managed to speak, feeling far too numb.

"You tell me, y/n." Carol crossed her arms defensively and continued to glare right into your eyes. You thought that hurt more than anything else that had happened that day and honestly ever.

"I didn't do this." You whispered, too shocked to fully comprehend what your girlfriend was accusing you of.

"You wanna rethink that answer? Because this secret has always bothered you a lot more than it has for me." What? You felt sick at hearing her words. You had spent the whole relationship thinking, fooling yourself into believing that it was both sided. How much did she care?

"There was a time you wouldn't fucking shut up about it for two seconds and no matter how many times I explained to you why we couldn't go running around holding hands like goddamn kinder-gardeners you still couldn't get it through your skull that is was the smart decision. Do you not like what's happening today, y/n? Does it upset you?" She gritted in a sickeningly mocking tone that you had never heard before. It was just plain cruel. "Well buckle the fuck up because it's going to get a hell of a lot worse, especially for me. You'll be happy though, won't you? This is what you wanted." Carol finished, chest heaving and eyes ablaze. That was all you could really make it through your teary eyes.

"No this isn't what I wanted." You started to sob as you reached out for Carol's hand but she smacked it away hard. You recoiled in alarm and tried again. "Please Carol, I would never do this. I just wanted what you did." Carol scoffed at your pathetic attempt at explaining yourself, far from believing you in your hysteric state.

"Fuck off." She spat as she gave you one final glare and turned sharply on her heels to leave you were stood. Alone.

"Carol, please!" You begged but the blonde had had enough.

"Stay away from me." She shouted back and you stopped in your tracks, only able to watch her leave.

"No." You whimpered in defeat and dropped to your knees, breaking down in tears as you felt like your world was crumbling around you and there was nothing you could do to fix it. There wasn't even anyone who could help you through it anymore.

*

Carol was right. Things did get a lot worse after that, in a lot of different ways. Your heartbreak was the worse thing. You spent every moment you weren't in school curled up in bed, soaking your sheets and pillows with tears, scolding yourself for everything that had gone wrong. You knew, deep down, that it wasn't you fault, that it was Carol who was entirely in the wrong but you found it impossible to hate her. It would have been so much easier if you had been able to. It might have hurt less.

School was a much worse place to be. You saw Carol every day but a word was never passed between you. Anytime you caught her eye she looked away quicker than you could read her so it was hard to tell if she still hated you. All you knew was you weren't her favourite person. That was one thing, but the bullying was something else. It was relentless, ranging from everything between graffitied slurs on your locker to being shoved into them. Your grades dropped and your mental health declined with it.

"Move, fag." You gave a low 'oof' as you were tripped into the railings along the stairs. You held your stomach and winced at the instant throbbing pain there. You avoided the eyes you knew were on you but when you risked a glance up you saw the blonde you weren't sure if you were avoiding or not. You held her gaze longer than you had since she had broken your heart, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the undeniable pity written across her face. In that moment you found yourself wanting to go up to her. What you would do or say you weren't sure of, maybe it would have come to you got there.

You took a bold step forwards until you were cut off by a junior who gave you the first friendly smile you had seen in a while. You didn't trust it at all, like it was a mask worn by the devil himself to trick you. "Hey." He greeted. You opened your mouth to speak but you had no clue of what to say. "I just wanted to say I thinks it's pretty cool what you did." He said simply.

"What I did?" You asked slowly and he nodded back with the same smile.

"The picture." He clarified. You clenched your jaw and peered over at the blonde who was still watching you cautiously. "I know it wasn't you choice to have it taken or anything." He rushed when he noticed your defensive stance. "And I can't imagine what you're going through right now." He added with a sympathetic look. "But seeing you guys together in a town that isn't exactly the best place for it has given a lot of us a some hope. Most of the world is becoming more acceptant, it's only a matter of time before things change here too, even if you're not here when it does." He shrugged before getting distracted by someone in the corridor. "Plus you guys are a cute couple." Ouch. He smiled at you and waved at his friend as he made to leave.

"I gotta go but I hope I see you around." You nodded slightly as you pondered his words. You glanced at Carol and was surprised to still see her standing by her locker, it felt like some strange stand off and you wondered if she had heard what the junior had said to you. She wasn't that far away by the corridor was beginning to get crowded and loud.

You made to walk towards Carol but the second you did she took off like a startled deer. You sighed as you watched her go. Maybe it was for the best that you stay out of each other's way after all. Despite whatever the hell had just happened, the blonde's last words to you played as clear as ever in your head. They still made your heart ache as much as it did the first time around.

Things didn't change between you and Carol after that. It was hard, near impossible on some days, but you started to try and get over her. You didn't want to forget and you certainly didn't want to regret it because until the end, your relationship with Carol was the best thing that ever happened to you. Knowing that made it so much harder to move on. Not to mention a large part of you didn't even want to. You loved Carol. Making yourself fall out of love with her was just as difficult as when you had tried to stop yourself falling in love her nearly a year prior.

Given the absence of progress between you and the Captain, you honestly thought you were hallucinating when she called your name one day after school. You spun around in every direction to find her, something that wasn't that hard when she came jogging towards you. "Can we go somewhere more private?" She asked as she glanced at the onlookers. You nodded quickly, your mouth and throat feeling far too dry for you to even attempt to speak.

You walked in an extremely awkward silence towards the field. You were waiting for Carol to speak first and you were hoping she wasn't thinking that you would do the same thing given she had approached you. Unless she had done it on a whim, you really hoped not. It was only when you were alone that she piped up.

"I'm sorry." She blurted out. You glanced at her in surprise, an apology was the last thing you were expecting. "I'm so so sorry. I was so stupid- beyond stupid. What I did was something I promised I never would and I hate myself every moment for it." You stared at the blonde blankly as she continued to ramble away. You had never seen her so frantic and you were so taken off guard by it you didn't have a chance to notice the irony of what was happening and how drastically the roles had been reversed.

"I was just so scared and that's not an excuse I'm just trying to explain." She paused to peer at you properly, waiting to see if you really understood that. You gave her another weak nod. "I didn't know what to do. It felt like I couldn't trust anyone and I got defensive to try and protect myself. I didn't mean any of it. Anything. Especially about not finding the secret hard." That was something you had been longing to hear but once you did you couldn't bring it in yourself to believe her. "There were days I had to stop myself screaming in the corridors or in the cafeteria that I was in love with you. It was even harder not being able to hug or kiss you whenever I wanted to." You listened on intently.

"I just wanted what was best for you and I didn't know what that was." She admitted. You had the sudden strong urge to reach out and hug Carol, but you also wanted to walk away. You didn't get much chance to consider your options because a group of Carol's old friends came sauntering around the corner, eyes lighting up at the sight of you and the Captain.

"Don't stop on our account." One of them snickered.

"If you're gonna dyke out you might as well make a show out of it." Another added. Your skin crawled in discomfort and Carol noticed instantly.

"Fuck off." She spat but the group ignored her.

"You know you probably just haven't had the right dick." The first one said as he eyed you up and down. You backed up and found yourself moving closer to Carol. "I'm sure I could make you straight again." He mused sickeningly and made to grab your wrist but the blonde stepped in front of you.

"I said fuck off. No one wants your two inches, Walker." She challenged and got an instant reaction. He went to swing at Carol but she swiftly kneed him in the groin before he got the chance, barely able to stop herself smirking when he doubled over with a groan. The blonde turned to you and jumped forwards when she saw one of the other boys go to grab you.

"You get the fuck away from her." Acting on pure instinct and adrenaline, Carol swung her fist forwards and caught the jock in the jaw with a crunch. The other boys looked between the two injured and Carol, quickly making their call in grabbing their friends to leave.

Carol turned to you swiftly with worry and concern on every inch of her face. "Are you alright?" She asked as her eyes scanned you for any signs of injury. You gave a shaky yes, avoiding Carol's gaze. "Fuck, this is the kind of thing I was always afraid of, above everything else." She said as she ran a hand through her hair. You caught sight of her red fist and without any thought, took ahold of her hand gently. You ran your fingers over the redness softly, not realizing you were crying until a tear dropped down onto Carol's hand. At the sight of it you broke down crying more.

"Oh ba- y/n." The blonde sighed, heart breaking in smaller pieces at the sight of you. It hurt even more to see when she wasn't sure if she could hug you or not. Luckily for her she didn't have to feel useless for long because you reached out for her and clung onto her jacket as you buried your face into her chest, crying harder. "I've got you. It's okay, they're gone." She cooed. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again." You knew she was thinking of herself more than the boys when she said that.

You stood like that for a while, crying against Carol as she rubbed your back and continued to whisper reassurances to you. "Promise." You hiccuped between sniffles.

"I promise." She said instantly. You slowly pulled away to read Carol properly, watching closely for any tell of a lie and finding none. "Could you give me another chance?" The blonde asked, barely above a whisper as she feared your response. She would respect it entirely if you said no, but she really hoped you wouldn't. "There won't be anymore secrets and I'll never be a dick to you ever again."

"I'm scared." You admitted and Carol nodded tightly as she fought back tears herself.

"Me too." She admitted. "We don't have to stay here." You lifted your head up to look at Carol clearly and she continued. "We could leave, go where ever we want. There's only a couple months left of this shithole."

"A couple months." You repeated. Carol nodded encouragingly, desperate to find a bright side and winning point.

"Could you do a couple more months here?" She asked carefully and you nodded after a few seconds.

"Lets do it." You said with a sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck, really?" She laughed lightly and you found yourself doing the same.

"Yeah." You smiled. "I can't stop loving you and I don't want to." Tears started to fall down Carol's cheeks. You cupped her face gently and wiped the tears away with your thumbs. The blonde's own hands held yours as she smiled down at you.

"I love you too." With a sudden, unexpected, burst of confidence, you leaned forwards and kissed Carol longingly. She deepened the kiss instantly and wrapped her arms around your waist to keep you as close as possible, like she never wanted to let you go again.

"Everything's gonna work out." She whispered once she pulled away to rest your foreheads together.

"Of course it is." You smiled softly. "You'll be with me."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[cognacdelights]

you give me problems [2]

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kathleen by catfish and the bottlemen

summary: during one of the hottest days of the summer, indie decides to taunt her brother’s best friend with a provocative performance involving an orange popsicle. 

warnings: implied sexual content. dirty talk. cursing.

She had perched herself on the battered, cedar wood steps of the porch - directly in his line of vision. A mischievous glint illuminated her wide doe eyes as they met with his for a brief, succinct moment, before he continued his conversation with her brother. The petite brunette was very much aware that her perfectly positioned, bikini-clad body remained in his line of sight; the tattered and torn camping chair - which he had claimed as his thrown several months prior - faced her almost front on. With a playful grin gracing her make-up-less complexion, she brought the orange-flavoured popsicle to her lips, a sinfully brilliant scheme echoing through her twisted mind.

At first, he didn’t pay her much attention - assuming that she was using the fruity, frozen snack as a means of cooling down her rising temperature. After all, it was a necessary commodity during the peak of the summer months. Thermometers across the subtropical, Mid-Atlantic paradise had reached well above thirty degrees celsius over the last several days, and there was no expectation of an Arctic weather front dominating the heavens any time soon. However, as his unsuspecting, cerulean eyes wandered the familiar, mundane scene before him, they couldn’t resist diverting themselves back to the sun-drenched vixen.

With her dark, salacious eyes concentrated purely on him, her tongue leisurely circled itself around the tip of the fruit juice popsicle. The motion itself was painfully slow, allowing her taste buds to thoroughly indulge themselves in the tangy, citrus juices that liquified under the pleasant warmth of her tongue. A devilishly angelic smirk etched itself into her roseate features, before continuing her performance. Taking the very tip of the popsicle into her mouth, she began to suck lightly, running her tongue along the circumference to remove the slushied ice in the process.

She could feel his acute, searing gaze on her, scorching her exposed skin as it glimmered ever so slightly under the relentless ultraviolet rays from above. The rugged, blonde-haired boy shifted his weight around in the beer-stained camping chair, bringing the half-consumed bottle of Heineken up to his lips in a half-hearted attempt to disguise his discomfort. Of course, if anybody were to question him on the subject, he would never admit to viewing his best friend’s sister in such an alluring, sensual light because, well, she was his best friend’s sister; there was an unwritten rule that adamantly declared that sisters - both older and younger - were most definitely off limits. And he knew this, all too well - yet he couldn’t tear his enraptured gaze from that damn popsicle.

Teasingly, the audacious girl ran her tongue in one continuous, gradual stripe down the length of the popsicle, until she encountered the unpleasant, earthy taste of the sodden, wooden stick. She cocked her head to the side, almost innocently, as her taunting eyes flickered upwards - confirming that she still held the raucous blonde’s full, undivided attention. As his yearning, indigo eyes bore attentively into hers, she took the span of the melting ice block into her mouth. Once again, the movement was languid and sultry; it was a precarious manoeuvre, especially considering that her older brother, John B, and the remaining members of the self-appointed Pogues were seated just several feet away in the matching polka dot deck chairs that they had borrowed from the neighbours.

The cold, chilling sensation of the ice touching against the back of her throat sent invigorating pulses of energy through her scantily clad silhouette. Continuing to push the popsicle further inside her salivating mouth, she allowed the orange-infused ice to force it’s way down her trachea until she had completely devoured the entire thing. Steadying herself, she denied the raspy gagging sounded that was desperate to surpass her juice-coated lips the satisfaction - internally silencing it. Not only did she want to prove that she could handle it, but she was cautious of alerting the three other Pogues to her seductive escapade. Retrieving the citrus-flavoured ice stick from her throat, her movements remained slow and sensual as a stray droplet of fruit juice meandered down her chin.

Her tongue began to trail nonchalant, lascivious circles around the length of the popsicle, savouring the sour, tangy juices. His clammy, bear-like hand grasped the beer bottle tighter as he fought with all his might to suppress the fervent, inflamed sensation that had gradually overwhelmed his toned, athletic body. Involuntarily chewing on the already chapped skin of his bottom lip, his clouded, hazy eyes hovered over Kiara, his head nodding in agreement along to her impassioned rant as he feigned interest in her words. However, only a meager few seconds had passed before he found himself devouring the unholy sight of the golden-complexioned temptress once again.

His eager, cobalt eyes observed intently as she proceeded to take the fruit-flavoured ice pop into her juice-stained mouth for the second time, valiantly sucking on the bittersweet juices before retrieving the melting popsicle from the cavities of her cheeks. It was an achingly languid cycle; in and out, in and out, in and out. A low, lustful growl clawed desperately at the back of his throat - craving to be released into the fresh, salt-laced air that surrounded him. With his hardening dick beginning to press against the tight constraints of his patterned swimming shorts, he couldn’t resist her suggestive, raunchy taunts much longer and stood from his dirt-covered camping chair.

“Where are you going?” Kiara questioned his sudden movements - her dark, feathery eyebrows knitting themselves together into a inquisitive frown. She brought the green-tinted bottle up to her lips as she took a swig of the cheap, bitter-tasting beer, as she waited expectantly for his response. Her murky, sable eyes followed his chiselled, sun-kissed silhouette as he waded through the pile of discarded, empty beer bottles and cans - making his way towards the porch steps.

“I gotta wring it out,” he answered with a casual shrug of his shoulders - his lust-filled, cerulean eyes avoiding hers at all costs. Although he deployed his most convincing, mundane voice, his perjurious words rolled off his tongue with a subtle uneasiness detectable in his inflections. The slight waver in his gruff, raspy tone would be his downfall, which was why the scruffy-haired blonde had opted for as little words as he could manage; the less words he uttered, the less chance of detection. The less chance he had of gravely violating his eight year long friendship with the wavy-haired, brunette boy he had come to love as a brother.

The parched, dried-out grass crunched under the pressure of his scuffed, workman-style boots as he neared the sprightly girl residing on the uneven porch steps. With her wicked, flirtatious eyes fixated on him, she continued her slow and sensuous assault on the fruit-flavoured ice block - forcing the tangy popsicle to hit against the back of her throat as she, once again, swallowed the diminishing span. His halted in his tracks, crouching down so that his ravenous, indigo eyes were level with hers. They bore resentfully deep into hers as his tongue lasciviously traced itself across the chewed-up line of his bottom lip.

Leisurely, she pulled the orange-infused popsicle from the depths of her throat as a saintly, mischievous smirk dancing its way across her blemishless complexion - tugging the corners of her rose-tinted lips upwards. Her peach-toned lips were swollen from the exaggerated contact with the contrasting, cold snack, and stained with the glistening, fruit-infused nectar. With her fingers still clenched around the saturated, wooden stick, and drenched in the sticky, citrus juices, she tilted the remains of the orange-flavoured popsicle towards the defeated blonde, “want a lick?” Her voice exuded innocence, yet still carried sultry, velvet undertones. She knew damn well that she was coaxing him further towards the edge - and she was basking in every second of his sexual torture.

Tenderly, he brushed his calloused thumb over the delicate skin of her chin, wiping away the wandering trail of fruit juice, “behave.” His usually playful, light-hearted tone was stern and demanding as he brought his thumb up to his thin, chapped lips. Dragging his tongue across his juice-soaked thumb, he lapped up the pleasantly zesty syrup, before continuing to make his way towards the Chateau’s entrance. His footsteps were heavy and lumbering as they ascended up the several uneven stairs - however, he had merely reached the vicinity of the open doorway when she spoke again.

“Say that again, but with your hand around my throat,” the words flowed so casually from her swollen mouth, yet her tone reflected yearning and desire.

“What was that?” he challenged her coarse, suggestive words as his loud, burly footsteps came to an immediate halt. His untamed eyebrows raised out of pure awe, despite his unsettled expression being out of her sight - her salacious demands catching him completely off guard. The shaggy-haired blonde kept his back to her, refusing to allow her the satisfaction of witnessing his now quite obvious erection as it left a visible imprint against his swimming shorts.

“I said,” she peered over her exposed shoulder, her voice sugary and honey-like as a chaste, holy grin etched itself into her sun-soaked features, “it’s a nice day, we should go out on the boat.” From his toned, well-worked back muscles peeking through his off-white t-shirt, to the loose clenching of his meaty, ring-clad fingers - her insatiable, corrosive eyes scrutinised every inch of his slim physique.

“That’s what I thought,” he replied plainly, before disappearing through the abundance of clutter - into the bathroom.

[fanarchoslashivist]

Reliquishment

97. Sandy Angst with having been Killed. For @rotgsecretsanta

~*~

There were many moments among the stars, wild and exhilarating and everything he had been chasing since he first started his path to become a pilot, there were moments where he had faced the certainty of his own destruction.

None of them had ever come with pain.

It felt cold, the arrow in his back, which was so very strange. His sand had been eroded away and pooled into by the playful frigid waters of oceans, he had carried slushy pockets of glacier runoff filled with flecks of gold in his hands to spill over selkies to their delight, he had felt, often before but more this past day than ever, the gentle touch of Jack Frost whose very breath sent the Avatar of Spring to shiver. He knew the touch of cold from Emily Jane’s bitter shattered heart, no matter her attempts to point the shards away from him.

The cold had never been able to reach him, deep within his sun soaked sand, millenia of dreams under the warm skies of the equator. He was made of dreams, warm and comforting, their memories more than enough to keep the most brutal of chill from leaching into him. He could be touched by the cold, but could never be made cold himself.

This was cold.

He had never felt pain before, though he knew of the concept, knew that it caused great harm to those around him, and that he could easily inflict it if he was not careful. So he had always been careful. His people simply did not have the receptors for it, they were particles made sentient, cosmic dust and magic who traveled through space on the tail of shooting stars, steering them from destructive courses and growing stronger and stronger as they gathered the wishes of the planets they passed. Pain did not exist for specks, motes of dust did not hurt.

This hurt.

He had accepted the end of himself many times before, as he rode the backs of difficult stars and battled dream pirates intent on stealing the powers he amassed, the dreams he chose to gift. It was important, if one wanted to find their courage, to understand that a Pilot and Star could be made nonexistent. Death, as a concept, did not truly occur to his people, who were magic given agency or perhaps agency given magic. What had come first had never twisted and tormented them as it did the other beings of the universe who battled with the questions of their existence. They existed, and would continue to exist so long as there was magic and meteors with flecks of matter trailing behind. They gave themselves away in their dream sand, and rebuilt their stores anew as they traveled, the magic of ten thousand planets’ belief was enough to give life to whole constellations, and they collected such power from the billions of wishes cast upon them as they passed, and the ingredients for their sand in space was without limit.

Destruction? The shattering of his collected form? The scattering of the trillions upon trillions of particles, never knowing how much or how little he needed to be something like himself? If he worried about such things he would not have the courage to gift himself away, every planet, every satellite, every ship he passed. He broke pieces of himself, of his mind and conscious, every single grain holding some imprint, never fully knowing if he was gifting away some irreplaceable core fragment of himself he could never recover, and he without fear but in boundless love passed it on to the dreamers in need of him.

He had never feared death, a crash meant nothing to him, whether or not he survived it, but it meant everything to the ones he might crash into; so when his shooting stars came too close to a planet, or a ship, or a satellite, and he had to steer desperately away, if the choice was to crash his star into an unpopulated, nonsentient moon, or ram himself into a fearling’s ship to allow others a chance of escape, he would. He’d crashed many times, been scattered many times, somehow he had always retained enough of himself to reform, though it took its time and its toll.

He had crashed to the Earth in its formative years, wrapped himself in a desperate wish and cared nothing for himself, only his irreplaceable cargo, his prisoner, his friend. Emily Jane’s existence was something he never wanted to lose, something he could not recover from. To lose her, that was far worse than any death.

His crash had been without pain, his end without thought, only dreams.

And now, millenia later, after he had found others whose lives were just as precious, just as irreplaceable to him, after an endless sleep had given him more power and dreams then there were grains of sand to fill them, did he face that fear again.

Somehow Pitch Black had found a way to corrupt Sandy’s dreams, something the Pirates and Fearlings had never managed to do during their wars. They could only ever steal its power, devouring the magic adhering to the particles and leaving nothing but grains of rock and specs of dust behind. This… Pitch was turning the magic against itself, using none of his own energy and instead twisting Sandy’s gift into something monstrous.

Nightmare Sand.

He could feel it, this creeping cold.

Was he afraid?

The nightmares could sense it, grain by grain, at a pace he couldn’t fathom, could not follow any more than he could track the venom of a snake through the veins of an animal as it did its damage, they ate away at him. Was it his own fear? Fear of this pain? Of this sand? Or was it just Pitch’s infectious spreading influence?

He crumbling, the structure weakening, the black spreading sand, each filled with fear as powerful as any of his dreams as they fell speck by speck, mote by mote, he couldn’t hold this form. It wouldn’t obey him, even to keep the shape of his body. Grains lost connection, detached, the magic was there, he tried to keep them together, to will it back, but they did not respond to him, refused him, falling from him lifelessly only to coalesce into the swelling formless mass of black surrounding him. Pieces of himself, every granule a water weathered fragment of something dear to him, Emily Jane’s star, filled with its treasures, the stones and bones of the ocean deep, corals and shells and rock broken down and smoothed with age and love. Every piece of him, for billions of years every piece of him was washed by the sun above and the waves below and the dreams of all who touched it.

It could not be so easily stolen.

Could it?

Something, he had to summon something of himself, some fragment of himself. His friends. The children. No, he couldn’t fall here, their belief was so fragile, already withering, children could not stay believing every minute, no one could be so devout, not even Lunar himself, they strengthed and weakened between holidays and lost teeth, they needed the dreams. Every night, and night was endless, the sun a strip of light forever chasing the dark and Sandy always following in its wake, always riding the tail of a star, Sandy had to be there for them.

He had to be.

What was he leaving the children to, to face the night without him?

Something, he fell to a knee, fighting to pull them back, but it was like catching sand in an ocean wave, grasping open handed at the water, the tide sweeping away his treasures with every churn.

Pitch.

His laughter on the air, through the sand, and there was so much ANGER in him at that. Pitch knew what Sandy meant to his daughter, and that, that made him mad. He glared through the roiling mass of black to his opponent, his ancient enemy, the man he had once doomed, and saw in him that same end he had seen time again among the sky.

He could keep trying to steer this star on course, fight the fear and the spread, fight Pitch, and perhaps lose, or he could accept what was. He had decided once, in the times before he had ever met Emily Jane, when he had piloted a different star, in a fight with Dream Pirates attacking cruise ships full of his dreamers, he had made a choice. Fight, and perhaps lose, or crash, and take as many as he could with him, cripple them, and give the victims an escape.

His friends were strong. He had fought beside them for such a short period of time, but he knew them well, loved them endlessly. They would survive this.

The children, so young, so new to existence, little more than a dust cloud full of potential for the massive brilliant shining stars they would become, the systems they would create, the constellations they would form as they gathered together and grew. It would hurt them, but it would not break them, he could only hope he had given them enough light in the time he was able to help them weather this.

The more he fought, the more he struggled, the more his fear fed the sand, and the stronger Pitch would become.

All he could do was what he could.

And what he could do, was let go.

The black engulfing him instantly, his resistance gone it spread through him like water, cold and dark, but strangely it no longer hurt.

The pain was gone.

The sentience that had owned the magic, called Sandy, was gone.

There now was only magic, and fear, a trillion particles of endless dreams turned foul.

And Pitch Black, King of Nightmares, laughed triumphant.

[gamerwoo]

[The Pack Next Door] Mingi: Friends with Benefits (Part Two)

(photo edit courtesy of @songmingki​)

Characters: Mingi x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, friends to lovers au, angst but not like hard angst it’s kinda mild tbh, lil bit of fluff

Word count: 1,913

Summary: Growing up, you and Mingi were inseparable. You’d been friends your entire life and, as far as you knew, things were never any different. But what you don’t know is that Mingi imprinted on you when he was 15 and first turned into a werewolf, and he had been trying to keep it a secret ever since. And with the awful timing of mating season, he’s hoping he can somehow keep the facade up.

Tags: @sakura-uji​ @xummie​ @peachy-hoon​ @psshwa​ @uglyratlmao​ @uwu-yifan​

Previous | Next | Friends with Benefits Masterlist

Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and San had come home from classes together, walking through the front door as the two older boys scolded San about his grades. They walked down the hall and past the living room where you and Mingi were sitting on the couch, watching TV. One of your legs was flung over the arm of the couch as you leaned into Mingi, while your best friend was simply sitting straight beside you, keeping his eyes trained on the TV. You saw out of the corner of your eye the three boys barely glance over at you as the kept walking out of sight, before backing up and looking into the living room at the scene.

“What is he doing?” San whispered loud enough for his friends to hear -- they could hear way better than you thanks to their sharp senses -- but quiet enough that you didn’t hear a thing.

“Being a fucking moron,” Seonghwa replied.

You turned your head to look at the audience you now had, “Can I help you?”

Mingi’s eyes had flickered from where he was trying so hard to concentrate on the show, to his brothers. They could hear how fast his heart was beating and see the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead, the way his hands clenched on his thighs, and the way he was basically straining himself to sit still.

Mating season was starting soon for him.

“Uh..._____,” Hongjoong stepped forward with his usual sweet smile, “do you wanna play some soccer in the backyard? I have some extra energy I need to burn.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” you grinned as you jumped up from your spot on the couch. You looked down at your best friend, “Mingi, you wanna ref?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he told you, trying to come across as completely normal.

But there was something off about him.

Still, you shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

Then you followed Hongjoong out to the backyard.

As soon as you were gone, Seonghwa marched up to Mingi, grabbing the younger boy by his shirt and pulling him to his feet. Despite having height on the older boy, Seonghwa wasn’t afraid because he knew he had authority over Mingi.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Seonghwa demanded.

“Yes,” San answered for him with a nod.

This definitely wasn’t the first time Mingi had to go through rut and not let you know. But it seemed this time for some reason, he was being a little too bold for the pack’s liking. It was clear he was having some difficulty being so close to you -- thank god mating season hadn’t actually started for him or there would’ve been nothing to keep him from pouncing on you -- and that was just because he was so close to mating season starting. He definitely had balls to hang out with you alone so close to that time of year where he had to be away from you.

“Hwa, I was fine!” Mingi insisted, holding up his hands in surrender.

“You didn’t look fine,” San interjected, Mingi shooting him a glare to keep out of this.

“What if you hurt her, huh?” Seonghwa demanded. “What if you couldn’t fight the instinct? What if you did something bad to her?”

Mingi whined, “I wasn’t going to!”

“But you could’ve,” Seonghwa stated, giving Mingi a solid shake. “You can’t just act fine and then everything is fine. You can’t pull that shit this close to mating season.”

Seonghwa finally let the younger wolf go, and he frowned as he straightened out his shirt, “What are you, the alpha?”

“No,” Seonghwa offered him a tight smile, “but I know Joong is going to have a lot to say to you, too.”

-

Even though Hongoong never really had to deal with mates before -- even though he’d known you for a few years now but you weren’t properly Mingi’s mate -- he knew it was in his best interest to keep you safe rather than go deal with Mingi. That was why he chose to remove you from the situation and let Seonghwa deal with the younger wolf who clearly had some sort of lapse in judgement. Hongjoong definitely understood that Mingi had to act normally to keep their secret from you, but he didn’t need to take it that far. He should’ve just not invited you over.

“How many wins is that?” you chuckled as you lightly kicked the ball between your feet, quickly an eyebrow at Hongjoong.

He laughed, shaking his head, “Look, you did this for seven years. I’ve only casually played since I met you.”

“Yeah, you launched the ball straight into Wooyoung’s head the first day I met you,” you recalled with a loud laugh.

“But I’ve gotten better at not doing that,” he said proudly, spreading out in the goal to -- hopefully -- catch the ball.

Before you could even swing your leg back to kick the ball, the door opened and San shouted, “Hey!”

The two of you looked over, you lifting your baseball cap to run a hand through your hair before putting it back on your head as you squinted against the sun to see San in the doorway.

“Mingi wanted me to tell you he isn’t feeling well,” San called. “We brought him upstairs to bed but you probably shouldn’t bother him.”

You frowned with a sigh, nodding your head, “Yeah, alright. Thanks, San.”

Even though he could hear the slight disappointment in your voice, San nodded and went back inside.

“You okay?” Hongjoong wondered, resting his stance.

You let out air between your lips, your lips flapping like a horse for a few seconds as you tried to gather your thoughts, “Mingi always has something going on where he just disappears like, twice a year. He has since he ran away our freshman year of high school. I kind of expected it to happen again but it like, always happens. I dunno, I’m just worried, I guess.”

Hongjoong frowned. He knew you cared about Mingi, and he should’ve figured you would catch onto it after a while. He used to always use the fact he was ‘sick’ as an excuse, but he had to get more creative when you begged him to see a doctor his senior year since he was always getting really sick twice a year. It then became ‘I’m a counselor at a week-long sleepaway camp’ or ‘I’m going skiing with my friends’ or things like that. Anything where he could avoid you for about a week until he was feeling normal again. Because if you were around him while he was in rut, he would have zero self control and would pin you against anything and go crazy. That was the last thing any of them wanted.

“He’s just...” Hongjoong trails off as his eyes find Mingi’s window from the backyard, though the blinds are pulled shut so neither of you can see inside.

But Hongjoong already knows that Seonghwa has probably dragged him up to his bedroom and ordered him to stay there until the alpha comes in to scold him for being so careless with you. But he also knows staying away from your mate is difficult -- not that he knows personally but he’s heard.

And Hongjoong never finishes his sentence because honestly, he’s not really sure what to say.

-

You finish your game of soccer with Hongjoong early because you decide you’re not really in the mood to play anymore. You’re not really an emotional kind of person, but anyone can tell you’re bummed out because of Mingi. You know things will go back to normal after a week, but you just wish you understood why this pattern kept happening. What happened to Mingi when he ran away?

Honestly, your best bet was that he joined a cult.

As you were leaving the house, Jongho was getting out of his car, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. He smiled at you as you passed by him to get to your car.

“Mingi’s girlfriend leaving so soon?” he joked -- well, as far as you knew.

Did you feel a little different toward Mingi ever since he came back freshman year, yes? You kind of thought maybe it was because you were afraid of losing him again, but it had stuck around until college, and that was a little weird to you. Still, you never said anything to him because you two had been best friends since you were babies. The two of you were voted ‘best partners in crime’ and ‘should’ve dated’ -- the latter was a little awkward since you were dating someone else at the time -- when you were seniors because of how close you were. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship because you were pretty sure he didn’t feel the same. He probably saw you as a sister. So you left things alone.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a playful smile, “Eat a dick, dude.”

His friends often teased you for being his ‘girlfriend’, and Mingi typically responded in the same fashion. But the teasing continued because his friends knew that while it embarrassed Mingi, it was the only way they could hint at how he felt about you.

“Why’re you leaving?” Jongho asked, turning around to keep talking to you. “You usually stay longer.”

You looked over your shoulder, this time rolling your eyes in a less playful way, “Mingi’s sick.”

“...Oh,” he nodded, already understanding the situation. “Well, uh, we could hang out tomorrow after classes if you want? Maybe go get slushies at the gas station or something?”

Even though Mingi’s friends would never replace him, they had become your friends since you were around them so often. And whenever Mingi was away, they always offered to do things with you like go to the arcade or get pizza at the beach or something. 

You shrugged, unlocking your car and opening the door, “We’ll see.”

After waving a quick goodbye, Jongho went into the house. He could hear Hongjoong raising his voice a little at Mingi from outside, but he had drowned it out so he could converse with you. But now that he was inside and saw Seonghwa and San sitting on the couch watching the show that you and Mingi had left on, he was more intrigued.

“Mingi started mating season already?” he wondered.

From upstairs, he heard the wolf in question reply, “I did not!”

“You’re too close to it to have _____ around,” Hongjoong reminded him, his voice also traveling from upstairs.

It was true, it was supposed to start really soon. Nobody could ever place the exact day, but they kept track of around what times in the year it happened. It was like having your period but minus the blood -- for males, anyway -- and with a lot more sexual aggression.

“So the excuse this time is that he’s sick?” Jongho asked before adding on, “Again?”

“What did you want me to say?” Seonghwa asked. “They were sitting on the couch together so it was the only thing that made sense. I couldn’t say he suddenly went off on vacation, now could I?”

“We always keep _____ away from the house, anyway,” San shrugged, waving the problem away. “It’ll be fine. She never questions it, anyway.”

“She will question it eventually,” Seonghwa pointed out. “We can’t keep this up forever, and neither can Mingi.”

[rupertgayesarchive]

HELLO so I saw u rb'd my Director's Commentary thing and I recognized ur ao3 handle and saw u wrote Heard From Your Mother so I have to say: I haven't read your fic though it's been in my to-read pile for ages (it looks amazing and right up my alley, so I will get to it eventually I promise!). That being said, if you were to write a list of your favorite moments in the fic and why they were your favorites, perhaps to psych up readers such as myself to plunge in to over 200k, I would LOVE to see it. Not quite director's commentary in the traditional sense but here's ur invitation if you're looking for one!

it's a LONG fic and tbh? i'd never read a fic as long as hfym lmao so @ anyone who is intrigued but doesn't know if they could handle it, like. i understand. but thank you v much for your question!! let me see...

do you ever read meta on spn characters and think: if only someone were there to be your friend and love and support you? maybe things would have been better? that's a core tenant of this fic.

do you also ever read meta on spn and how even though it SAYS spn is about found family, all the found family dies or is left, um, 'shattered at the altar of winchester'? and you're like :/ me too. trying to alter/fix that is also a core tenant of this fic.

cas and dean being together IS obviously, a very important part of this fic. it is a destiel fic. but i'm also trying to maybe suggest that they can have other people in their lives that also matter. since the premise is that cas is sent back in time without his memories, this means he spends a lot of the fic discovering his likes/dislikes and interests.

like 90s alt girlies. and 2000s pop girlies. and fantasy-comedy novels. and silly graphic t-shirts. and bagels. and slushies.

dean slowly and much more begrudgingly admitting to maybe liking other things/trying them/tolerating them because of cas.

dean and cas sharing clothes before they even get together.

dean admitting that watching cas try new things is fun for him too.

dean losing a bet and offhandedly mentioning to sam that cas is now giving him a lecture on 80s new wave, then quoting a talking heads song lyric to cas the next chapter.

if i can't put dean winchester in therapy i'm just gonna surround him with so many adults that are more well-adjusted than him and just hope they can imprint on him and hey it kind of works?

i keep wanting to give cas friends bc that's what he deserves. i also have a habit of writing almost solely female minor characters (i started this practice years ago since if all the main characters in the fandoms i wrote were guys, this surely balanced out the world, right? right??) this means cas has a slowly growing troupe of girl besties :) they have ladies night :)

a cool knife shows up at some point.

sam started out spn as a bitch and a psychic and by god is he gonna stay that way.

jess :)

the first half of this fic is pre-Pilot, which i really enjoy! but we also get the entirety of s1 in this fic, and it's really fun sitting down and going through these classic spn eps.

faith (nsfw) and faith *jumps* 2!!

why oh why is hookman the emotional linchpin of this season? who can say.

i genuinely think this fic is a comedy. like it is serious, sure. but only a handful of chapters in this thing are fully 100% serious, the rest have a handful of things that i personally find very funny, like: gilligan cuts for scene changes, dean telling sam to 'pack it up, gloria steinem,' cas slowly growing a sense of humor that is about as dry as the sahara, the running joke that cas is a slow driver, dean thinking a falafel is a 'weird meatball', pretty much the entire hellhouse episode rewrite, 'cas started a cult' 'what.', 'what the fuck is a musca?', 'you're a real peach, cas' 'thank you?', sam admitting to dean he's having visions while dean has to sit there thinking that he's been balls deep in a non-human entity that can smite things with his mind: wow sammy that's crazy., 'maybe it's underwater caves.' 'dude. it is not underwater caves.' and much more

overall i guess this is the longest fic i've ever written and every day p much i'm like 'wow can't wait to write more!' it's such a joy to write and it's a love letter to spn and the fandom and the memories we've all made with this silly crazy show as more people read it and comment on it i genuinely think it creates this positive feedback loop and i hope anyone who reads hfym can get some joy from it like i am able to just by writing it and interacting with people who read it!

[angelguk]

→ bad behaviour — a namjoon scenario

member: kim namjoon (rm)

word count: 3.7k

genre: early relationship + smut +fluff +college!au

warnings: public sex / handjob / blowjob in a bathroom / just a lot of feels in this fic / yes this is the namjoon from the bring the soul commentary i wanted to swallow his dick when i saw him / size kink / praise kink / namjoon has a big dick / technically the prerequisite for the parents!au im dropping next week / repost because tumblr deleted the whole thing :/

soundtrack: easy, camila cabello

It’s stupid, how quickly you fall for Kim Namjoon. There’s a strange giddiness swimming in your guts as you wait for him outside the cinema. You can’t help but bounce on the balls of your feet, palms warm and sweaty with nerves. Which doesn’t make any sense. This is your fifth date now, Namjoon wasn’t a stranger to you anymore. But it’d been a week since you’d last seen him - a long torturous week. It’s weird, how quickly he’d wormed his way into your mind. The ‘I bet Namjoon would like this’ thoughts were becoming increasingly frequent. You should be alarmed - you hadn’t fallen for a person so quickly like this since high school. But you’re not - because it’s Namjoon. 

There’s a blooming in your chest when you spot him meandering down the street. He’s so damn tall, it’s intimidating actually, moving with quick sure steps and towering over nearly everyone. Your heart drops to your stomach when he catches your gaze. There’s an easy smile on his lips that slowly spreads the closer he gets. You can’t seem to look away, a strange tingle sweeping from your heart to your core. How he makes you feel dizzy with just a smile is beyond you.

“Hi,” He says, tucking his phone in the pocket of his black shorts. It’s hot out, and as a consequence his thighs and burly arms are visible, thick muscles flexing beneath golden skin. It’s enticing and you bet Namjoon isn’t even aware of that. Your palms burn with the need to touch but you hold yourself back, choosing instead to swing your arms around his neck and pull his body against yours. The press of his hard chest makes something settle in your stomach. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed him until he was right there before you.

“Hi,” You mumble into his shirt, the cool metal of his silver necklace pressing against your cheek. “Missed you.” He sighs in response, pressing you against him with a deft push of his large palm against the small of your back. Your heart swoops into your stomach. His chin is resting on your head a beat later and you nearly sway with how right it feels to have Namjoon holding you close, surrounding you with his presence.

“Missed you too.” He whispers, running his fingers down your spine. You practically melt, nerves tingling from the slight touch. It takes you awhile to pull apart, your heart beating like the wings of a wild bird trapped in the cage of your ribs. When you glance up, Namjoon is staring at your with that gaze, eyes soft and warm like he can’t believe you’re real. 

It’s good to know that the feeling is mutual, because you can’t believe Namjoon is real either. 

“We should go inside,” He says, but he doesn’t move, hands still clinging onto your waist.

“Mhm, we should.” You pull away because it evident that Namjoon won’t. The small frown between his eyebrows when you do makes you want to burrow yourself back into his chest and never leave. You smile instead and lace your fingers into his. There’s a squeeze from his large hand when it encompasses yours, sending a small thrill through your body. Namjoon is so damn big and it makes you feel so protected and cared for. Again, it’s stupid how quickly you’ve fallen for Kim Namjoon.

“You look good,” You comment, as you step into the cool building with your hands entwined. And it’s true, he does, effortlessly so - sun kissed thighs and arms on display and silver accessories complimenting his outfit. His hair is hidden by a cap, but you can still see the little tufts of russet hair peeking out. You want to run your hands through his locks but you clamp down on that desire quickly.

“So do you,” He returns, cheeks tinged rose. You’re suddenly glad you wore that unnecessarily short summer dress today. The floral fabric comes to an end just beyond your ass and if you bend forward even the slightest, the whole world would a great view of your behind. It’s wouldn’t be such a bad thing, especially if Namjoon has a front row seat.

He cuts your reverie short when he yanks you by the hand, pushing your body flush against the side of his chest and snaking his arm around your waist. You’re about to protest, core throbbing with how stupidly strong Namjoon is, but then he starts talking, mumbling about this and that as you stand in the queue together and your lips clamp shut. It’s calming, hearing him moan about class projects and talk in detail about literary ideas that you can’t wrap your head around for the life of you. But you listen intently anyway, lending your ear to him because Namjoon had disclosed in you a while ago how he felt no one ever really listened to him when he talked. You’d do it for him, if no one else would. It’s oddly important for you to make sure that Namjoon’s knows you care, because you do, a lot more than you’re willing to admit to yourself.

He’d chosen the movie, something based on a novel - technically research for his literature class because they were studying it anyway. Namjoon claims that although watching a movie on a book can be helpful, you can’t just base your essay on that - reading it is a vital part of the process. You call bullshit on that because you absolutely aced your final paper on The Great Gatsby despite having read the book never and watching the movie five times. He’s on a high horse because he’s the top student but you let him live when he sends you a soft glare. It’s adorable really, how defensive he gets over books.

You know the movie is going to be boring, but you don’t care. What matters is that you get to watch it with Namjoon. He also offers to buy the tickets. You let him because he wants too. You cover the popcorn and snacks (there’s a dozen packets of sweets in your purse because cinemas charge too much for them for your broke college budget). His nose scrunches in disdain when you order your popcorn buttered. You poke his chest in retaliation and remind him he eats raw ramen. He immediately pipes down after that, his hand returning to yours as you walk towards room A3 and let the guard at the door rip your tickets.

You pick a seat towards the back, away from the few other people who’d walked in after you. You’d expected it to be nearly empty - who in their right mind was watching this movie at four in the afternoon apart from Namjoon and his fellow literary nerds?

It takes you about thirty minutes to get bored. 

The popcorn tastes flat in your mouth, Namjoon has somehow decimated through the sweets you’d snuggled in and your slushy was practically empty. That’s when your imagination starts to wander, pulling an image from crevices of your mind. You’d stored this memory away carefully, reconstructed as best as you can because you were incredibly drunk that day. But you can still feel it, the press of Namjoon’s body over yours in Yoongi’s stuffy car. How hard he was beneath the glide of your hips as you grinded against him. And those harsh little pants that filled the air every time he bucked up into you. You can’t remember who was making the noises but you can, with clarity, remember the weight of Namjoon’s hands on your waist as he guided your movements. And how pretty he looked, eyes glazed and lips plush. You can’t help the clenching of your walls when you think about, or the slick that seeps out from you. 

The knock of Namjoon’s knee against yours makes the vision vanish, your eyes gliding over to him. He’s not paying you any attention, eyes fixed on the screen. How he looks glorious, pale white light washing over his concentrated face, doesn’t make any sense. You shouldn’t find this so hot, but you do, a heat building in your gut when he raises a contemplative hand to his chin. His knee knocks against yours again and you blame that for how your gaze falters to his legs. They’re wide apart, his shorts riding up dangerously close to his crotch. The position makes his skin taut, muscles bulging from their hold and leaving hard lines along his thighs. The heat in your gut turns into a wildfire and you don’t think anymore, nestling in as close as possible despite the stupid arm rest between you. It digs into your ribs but the pain melts away when Namjoon flashes you a quick smile, dimples dipping in his cheek.

You decide then, not to give a damn.

His eyes are wide when you cup his chin and gently pull him towards your lips. He tastes like sugar and cocoa, remnants of the chocolate he’d retrieved from your bag at the start of the movie. You can’t help but press your tongue against his mouth, a pleased sigh escaping your own when he parts his lips. He lets you slide inside, explore to your heart's content, his tongue pliant to your movements and hushed moans vibrating from his throat. When you pull away, your lips tingle with the imprint of his mouth and it takes a lot of willpower not to dive back for another kiss.

“What’s that about?” Namjoon questions against your lips, his cheeks flushed and mouth wet. 

“Just wanted to kiss you,” You mumble back, slowly gaining awareness of your surroundings again. It’s only then that you realise that you’re clutching his shirt with a desperation you feel in your gut. 

His eyes glitter. “Mhm, okay. Do it again.”

You comply without a complaint, the sounds of the movie falling on both your deaf ears. Namjoon takes control this time, despite his request, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth that makes a small whimper escape from your throat. His heart thumps under your palm and it takes a lot for you to not clamber onto his lap. Though, Namjoon partially keeps you put with the weight of his hand on your bare thigh. You’re practically vibrating, nerves going haywire with every skip of his fingers against your skin as he moves closer to your panties, where you’re soaking for him.

“Let’s blow this place,” You mutter against his ear when you break away from a moment. He quirks an eyebrow, catching on the obvious innuendo. You’d been skipping around the aspect of sex for awhile now, wanting to take the relationship slow, but you’re beyond ready to do anything for Namjoon’s dick, especially when he kisses you like that.

“What do I get for leaving? I wanted to see this movie.”

“I’ll blow you,” You finally say outright, loving the way his breath hitches and his eyes darken. 

“You could blow me here.” Oh. Oh, you hadn’t expected that and neither had your pussy from the sharp pulse that hits your core. You’d never seen this side of Namjoon ever, and the directness of his demand makes you want to roll over.

“Yeah, I could,” You say, keeping your eyes locked on him. He’s surprised, but you don’t wait for his mouth to open, instead planting your palm right against his crotch. He jolts into it, hard cock pressing into your hand. You hadn’t expected him to be hard either, but Namjoon is rigid and hot under your hold, eliciting a river from your cunt because he’s big too. Fucking huge actually. You can’t help but experimentally squeeze hard at the base of his dick, the skips in Namjoon’s breath tickling down your back. There’s no way you can swallow all of that, you know it. But then when you drag your hand up his clothed cock and Namjoon twitches into your palm, you vehemently want to try.

“You’re hard,” You murmur, stating the obvious because you brain is melting from how thick Namjoon is in your hand.

“Because of you,” He pants back, face burrowed in your neck at an awkward angle. He licks against your skin, tongue warm and wet before the nip of his teeth on your neck has you jerking forward. “That dress is a crime.”

Your skin prickles but you don’t let up on his dick, rubbing through the fabric gently. The urge to flip your skirt up and sit on him is so strong that you nearly give in. A cough in the background halts that idea in its tracks. You play with the band of his shorts instead, glad when Namjoon takes it upon himself to tug at the zip and untuck his cock from his underwear. Your observation from early proves to be correct the moment he springs out from his pants. Namjoon isn’t just huge, he’s massive. You know you’ll feel him in your guts from how much length and girth he’s sporting. It would be really nice to just have him flip you over and drill you from behind - or any position for that matter, as long as he’s inside you.

There’s an ache in your core when you wrap your hands around him. He’s veiny and velvet-like, a little gasp from his throat when your fingers finally come in contact with his skin. It’s juvenile, giving a handjob during a movie. You’re behaving like teenagers who just discovered what secrets a dimmed movie theater can hide. But you work around him regardless, catching the precum leaking from the tip of his cock with the twist of your hand. You glide around him ease, spurred on by the rushed little pants of his that colour the air. He’s got his head digging into the headrest, neck exposed and adam’s apple bobbing with every harsh swallow down his throat. When you lean in to kiss his neck, Namjoon jolts, hips bucking into you hand with need. You can feel him throbbing in your grip, dick twitching with every graze of your palm along his cock.

“Too dry,” He croaks out, lips parted with a barely there moan escaping into the cinema. He’s right, he feels good in your hand but it’s not slick enough for you to rub him off the way you want too.

“Want my mouth?” You innocently ask, stomach flipping when his eyes flash.

“Please,” He mutters, staring at your lips unabashedly. You comply because Namjoon is so damn fine that it’s impossible for you to muster up a no.

He’s hot and heavy against you tongue, cum a little salty but you swallow around him anyway. The angle is awkward and there’s no way you can even attempt to shove him down your throat from your bent over position. Namjoon slides down his seat a little to make it easier, and his cock slips further into your mouth. The warm heat of your tongue against him has his mind blanking for a second. His hips jerk forward slightly, a deep need in his gut to go deeper into your mouth provoking the moment. When you gag a little, Namjoon knees give out. He can’t believe that pretty little mouth of yours is wrapped around his cock, sucking him off with a bunch of strangers in the room. It turns him on more than it should, his eyes suddenly sneaking around to make sure no one is watching.

But then you pull off him with a barely audible pop, sinking back down with fervor and Namjoon sees stars. Your mouth is perfect, lips moulding around the head of his cock and tongue flickering over his slit in a way that makes his thighs tense. Your hand is around the base of his dick again, working the orgasm right out of him. You fingers feel so small around him, a huge contrast to his own large palm and it makes his gut twist. You’re so damn tiny. It makes him want to wrap you up, take care of you, give you everything he has.

His balls must feel the same because his orgasm is approaching faster than he anticipated, despite his jerk off session before he came to meet you. You make him impossibly hard and his head is never really clear around you. Even know his mind is hazy, lost in the waves of pleasure ebbing from his gut with every press of your lips around his length. It’s hard for him to even focus on the movie before him, gaze floating onto your bent over a figure. It’s only then that he notices how your dress is riding up your ass. Your perfect pert ass that he wants to touch all the damn time. Your underwear peeps from beneath the fabric, your wetness creating a damp mark on your light pink panties.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

He bites back the remarks on his tongue. The ‘baby’ that he wants to murmur stuck in his throat. But he can’t help the hand that wonders to the back of your head, gently resting on your hair. There’s a slight push from his palm and your mouth makes a nasty little sound around his dick. He nearly creams down your throat right then, but then you pull away to his dismay, leaving his orgasm sitting heavy in his gut. The cool air hits his dick then, but Namjoon stays rigid because your lips are wet and bruised, covered in his cum, pretty face illuminated by the lights flashing from the screen.

He wants this image burned into his memory. Forever.

“I can’t deep throat you like this,” You whisper. His dick twitches hard at the prospect of being down your throat, mouth pliant for the load he’d give you. “Bathroom?”

“Bathroom.” Namjoon decides immediately, shoving his cock down his pants. You leave the theater in a rush, not missing the suspicious look an elderly couple gives you. But neither of you could bother to care, too overwhelmed with this new found desire for each other.

In the bathroom (the ladies because it’s far cleaner - and practically empty) Namjoon decides his second favourite image ever is you on your knees for him. You look so pretty, mouth open for his cock and your dress sliding down to reveal your cleavage. Every curve of your body is his kryptonite, but your breasts are his greatest weakness. Full and perky, stretch marks running along skin that he aches to put his mouth on. He settles for placing dick in your mouth instead, a groan leaving his chest with your tongue swipes against the head, before you sink down along his length.

It’s easier on your knees, to work Namjoon down your throat, core pulsing with every mumbled curse leaving his lips. He still stretches you mouth wide, and your walls flutter with the thought of Namjoon stretching out your pussy too. The hands around your head pull your back to the present. You glance up to find Namjoon staring down at you with adoration, a light sheen of sweat building along his neck. 

“Fuck, baby. You take my dick so well.” You swallow hard around him at that, spurred on by the praise. “Ngh - fuck - that’s it, open your pretty mouth for me.” You do, sinking down another inch and Namjoon shudders when the heat of your mouth encloses around him. You preen, hand coming to clutch at his trembling thighs. “God - shit! I’m gonna cum - oh fuck!” He pants out, pink tongue dragging over his lips. “Want me to cum down your throat, baby?”

You nod as best as you can, licking a fat stripe along his dick that has Namjoon convulsing. thighs tense. His hips stutter forward, mouth parted and sinful gasp leaving his lips as he spills down your throat. You don’t mind his taste and swallow with no complaint. It’s a lot but you push it down anyways, pussy leaking at the thought of his thick load spilling inside your cunt instead.

Namjoon pulls away breathless, dick growing flaccid in the cool air of the bathroom. His eyes are squeezed shut, a shudder slithering down his spine. When he cracks them opinion, his gaze land on your tongue sneaking out to swipe the spurt of cum that’d landed on your lips. His dick throbs back to life when he realises you’ve swallowed.

You don’t expect to pulled up from the floor like that, Namjoon’s harding dick pressed against your stomach as he leans down and slips his tongue into you mouth. He kisses you like you’re the only tether keeping him grounding, mouth working you open with need. He doesn’t hold back on the little nips and bites that you’d grown to love about his kisses. His mouth is soft but direct, like he’s trying to tell you something that he hasn’t figured out the words for yet. It makes you feel like you’re glowing. And Namjoon holds you like you’re the damn Sun. He cradles you gently, hands on your waist as he maps out your mouth, the taste of him on both of your tongues. You decide there and then that he is The One.

“I’m going to marry you,” You say, when you part for air. It’s a slip of the tongue and you’re immediately mortified. It’s far too early to say shit like that. You’d only just sucked his dick for the first time. You expect Namjoon to eye you warily, but he laughs instead, his chuckle vibrating in your chest, pulling you closer. It’s ridiculous because here’s a marriage proposal in the bathroom stall of a cinema. His dick is out and his shorts are on the floor. Ridiculous, yet perfect. 

“The sentiment is mutual.” He whispers against your lips. 

Your heart explodes with an emotion you're afraid to name just yet. But it’s there, fluttering in your chest with joy.

“You’re saying that because I just sucked your dick,” You retort, cheeks hot with your embarrassment.

Namjoon pecks your nose before pulling away to yank back on his shorts. “Partially true. Want to go back to my place so you can cum on my tongue?”

Your whole body sighs, panties drenched at the prospect of Namjoon taking you apart with that wide tongue of his. “God, yes.”

He grins at that, that bright perfect smile gracing his lips and that fluttering feeling in your heart, turns into a full fledged gust of wind that hits your chest and knocks you breathless.

[magnoliasinbloom]

Crash Course Love

Infinite thanks to @anna-swims and @lcbeauchampoftarth for being awesome betas.

To @but-little-she-is-fierce, how can I refuse? Please enjoy!

AO3 :: Previously

8: Coffee [Jamie]

This is not a date, not a date, not a date, I kept chanting in my head.

I walked through the door of the Costa Coffee, the aroma of roasted coffee beans sharp in my nose. It was mildly busy, a few customers milling around tables and a few others queued up for their evening caffeine fix. I scanned the tables, but she wasn’t here yet.

Of course, I was fifteen minutes early. One could say I was a bit overeager. I was also willing to admit (but only to myself) that I had spent close to an hour deciding what to wear.

I couldn’t believe I had said the words, “it’s a date” to her when we hung up last Sunday. I felt the strong urge to wipe the grin off Janet’s face as we bid each other goodbye after our lunch, except I was pretty sure she’d give back as good as she got, the wee meddling besom. So now I waited for Claire, coffee cup in hand, fingers tapping on the table.

I felt much better than I had in months. Not only was my ex-girlfiend mortified at the idea of me being happy and dating someone, but the lass I was supposed to be going out with was Claire: beautiful, witty, strong. And in turn, I was to accompany her to a wedding. As her date. We could also pretend to be dating there; I’d hold her hand, sit very close to her, maybe even slow dance again with her body pressed against mine—

With the chime of bells above the door, Claire’s appearance in the coffee shop distracted me from my increasingly lascivious thoughts. She shook off the light rain from her tangled curls, and then she spotted me. A smile lit up her face. Well. My memory had not done her justice. Granted, we had both been a bit pissed when we met, and then afflicted with massive hangovers, but now beautiful did not seem an apt enough description. She wore jeans, boots, a green sweater, and a thick black parka.

Claire strolled over to the small table and slid in front of me. She shrugged off her coat, with a simple, “Hi, Jamie,” and ducked her head shyly. I realized then that I hadn’t said a word, and I was still staring.

“Jamie?” Claire folded her hands in front of her, looking back quizzically.

“Oh, aye, lass. Sorry. How are ye?” I managed a crooked smile. A light blush colored her cheeks. Was it overwarm in here?

“I’m fine. Just closed down the shop. Could I have sip of that?” She gestured towards my coffee cup and I pushed it towards her, amused.

“I can get ye a coffee, if ye’d like. I just didna know what ye would fancy.”

“No, it’s alright. It would keep me up all night.” Her pale pink lipstick left an imprint on the rim, and I immediately thought about putting my own lips there. Focus, man!

“So, Sassenach. We have Sunday lunch coming up, and then a wedding to attend. As… a couple.” I could feel the tips of my ears burn. They’d almost match my hair. “Is that the way of it?”

Claire grinned sheepishly. “I guess so. We can always break up right after. No harm done.” She fiddled with the edge of her sweater. “How do you want to do this?”

“Do what?”

“This. Us. You know. On Sunday. For instance, how should we tell them we met? I doubt ‘blind drunk at a pub and wound up in bed together’ is ideal.”

“Guess not,” I laughed. “How about if we say we met here, at a coffee shop?”

“A little boring, but it works. We can say you spilled my coffee—”

“I’ve seen ye dance, Sassenach. More like you spilled the coffee.”

“Fine. And then I offered to buy you another one.”

“I asked ye out to dinner, since ye were so bonny and clumsy,” I said, trying to play it off.

“Or I asked you. This is the 21st century, you know.”

“They’ll probably find that more believable, since I’ve not been out with a lass in—a year.” I gulped, and took a swig of my coffee to cover it up.

“Okay. That’s sorted then. What other questions should we expect from your family?”

“Och, the usual, I’d say. Where ye grew up, yer parents, yer job.”

“Alright. It’s simple enough. I was born and raised in Oxford, until the age of five. I already mentioned what happened to my parents, and that I was taken in by my Uncle Lamb.” My breath caught at her recitation of the facts and I instinctively reached out to touch her hand in sympathy.

“And how did ye get involved with botany and flowers?”

“My uncle taught archaeology at Oxford. After I arrived, Lamb stopped traveling and focused on his teaching career. He kept a garden and tended it every free second he had. I used to help him and grew to love flowers. Lamb helped with the money to open the shop.”

“It sounds… peaceful.” My fingers were unconsciously tracing patterns on the back of her hand; she accepted the gesture, moving her fingers gently under my touch.

“It was. He’s still back in Oxford, retired, devoted to growing things.” Claire smiled fondly before turning her attention to me. “Was growing up on a farm peaceful too?”

“Sometimes.” I laughed. “Whenever Willie and I were not causin’ mayhem. Janet was easier, I suppose, but she never refused to play wi’ us unruly lads. She’s actually an artist – she designs the labels and paints in her spare time. Not a lot of that, with a son and daughter.”

“And the distillery?”

“That’s the Fraser family business. My uncles Dougal and Colum MacKenzie were the investors, my mam’s brothers. But the whisky we produce carries my father’s name – Fraser Fire. I run the business end, distribution and such. Jenny and Ian help with that, since they live close to Lallybroch. Willie lives in Edinburgh with his own lass, Mary MacNab.”

“That sounds lovely,” Claire sighed. “To have such a large, tight-knit family.”

“I canna say it’s easy sometimes, Sassenach, but we love each other. For the most part.” I grinned. “I wanted to murder Jenny last time, for what she said.”

“I don’t mind. I like her. She looks out for you. She wants you to be happy.”

We spent the next hour trading tidbits of our lives. We learned each other’s favorite color, favorite food, favorite place to travel. How she took her coffee (cream and sugar), if she liked movies (historical romances), how much her tattoo had hurt (a lot). I filed away all of this information for future consideration.

A comfortable silence fell between us, once we had exhausted topics. Our hands were still intertwined, and I marveled at the normalcy and ease of touching Claire. It did not feel forced or awkward, but utterly right.

“Sunday then,” she said, breaking the spell. She removed her hand gently from mine, to check the time on her phone. “Should we meet somewhere beforehand?”

“I’ll pick ye up at eleven, yes? I ken fine were ye live, after all.” I smiled. “‘Tis a bit of a journey and we’ll need the four-wheel drive on my Jeep for a stretch of it.” The thought of a long road trip with Claire lifted my spirits immensely. “Do ye have to go?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ll be doing a wedding in a few weeks and have to get the centerpieces designed, seasonal flowers ordered in, meeting with the bride to review all the details.”

“Would that be the wedding?” I raised my eyebrows and she laughed.

“That’s the one. We have a few weeks, though, so I’ll let you know about it later. We’ll tackle your family first.” We stood up and headed for the exit.

“My mam’s a good cook. If nothing else, ye can look forward to a great meal,” I offered, pulling the door open for her.

“I can look forward to so much more than that, Jamie.” Her honey-hued eyes held mine, piercing, suddenly bright and intimate in the middle of the coffee shop. I stopped breathing, the world grinding to a halt.

For a minute, I thought she would kiss me. We stared each other down, seeming to get closer and closer; our gaze flickered between meeting and tracing our mouths until all I wanted to do was close my eyes and lose myself in her.

Claire was suddenly stumbling, nearly falling into a slushy puddle. I caught her around the waist while an angry customer pushed past us, muttering about inconsiderate time-wasters.

“Are ye alright?”

“I am now,” she managed, our eyes locking again.

I held Claire close to steady her, fine strong fingers gripping my arms. We stood there in the misty cold rain, holding on to each other. I tried to recapture the intensity of the moment we had just lost.

But it was gone.

[masonscig]

first line tag game

thank you for the tag @crackerdumortain !!!!! yours were so much fun to read omg !!!!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!

[disclaimer: i write for the choices fandom and some for litg so you’ll see a mix of those fandoms on this list LMAO]

1. stay [twc – mason x sofía]

The first time was casual. She had a knack for musing her thoughts aloud, tossing her harmless opinions out for anyone who’d catch them.

She was good at starting conversations in that way – while he’d never been one for talking.

She never did it with heavy topics, though.

2. thieves in the shadows [choices – blades au – mal x zilyana]

bullets pelted the crates they were crouched behind, wood splintering in every direction. bodies were strewn across the warehouse, the unmistakable pools of blood streaking across the stone.

“raine! to your left!” immy yelled her way, barely sparing her a glance before unloading her clip, shell casings clinking against the ground.

the gun trembled in yana’s hands. she’d shot one before – practice at the gun range, glass bottles in a back alley – but never a live target.

3. if we meet again [choices – open heart au – bryce x spencer] 18+

year one

The ride from the airport to her parents’ home was long and grueling, the slushy ice pelting the windshield barely passing for snow.

It was practically sub-zero outside, a stark difference between the mid seventies weather she’d just left.

4. clandestine [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

“hey. hey wake up –”

she stirred at the greeting, but jumped when he kicked the desk. her face contorted into a grimace, the imprint of her tweed jacket on her cheek outlined in pink. “hmm?”

“you fell asleep again,” he said, plopping a bag in front of her.

5. undying [choices – blades – mal x zilyana]

Zilyana stirred, resituating herself against Mal’s bare chest, feeling his arm instinctively tighten around her shoulders. When she realized she was missing the sound of his deep breathing, accompanied with an occasional soft snore, she cracked an eye open to see his chin tipped upwards, his gaze trained on the ceiling.

6. talent show [choices – platinum – shane x dom]

There wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t cross his mind. Even since they were kids.

He admired so much about her – her fiery spirit, her drive, her unwavering tenacity.

And he’d been in love with Dom for as long as he could remember.

7. redeemed [choices – platinum – raleigh x dom]

As soon as he stepped off stage, he was shuffled to his tour bus, Fiona on his heels. She looked like the human embodiment of rage in a grey blazer, a look in her eye that made him thankful he wasn’t the one it was directed at – or at least he hoped he wasn’t the reason she was two seconds away from a murderous rampage.

8. hidden [choices – foreign affairs – blaine x carina] 18+

Her cheek slipped out of the palm of her hand, forehead smacking the desk, nearly jumping out of her skin at the abrupt awakening.

“Ow.”

She prodded the tender spot on her face, thankful her foundation was thick.

A soft snore caught her attention – next to her, Blaine was passed out. Leaning back in his chair, his head was thrown back, arms crossed against his chest, the textbook on its face in his lap.

9. is this fate? [litg au – bobby x mc] 18+

The peroxide was cold when it hit her skin, the liquid bubbling on her knee, relentlessly stinging. She sucked in a breath through gritted teeth.

“Sorry… should be over soon,” he murmured, wiping up the stray liquid that streamed down her leg with a small rag.

The heaviness of the atmosphere between them was almost too much to bear – they’d barely spoken since he helped her onto the counter in his small office, leg propped up between his own, where he sat in his desk chair.

10. asvista cove [litg college au – bobby x elena]

Bobby’s thumb flicked the lighter repeatedly until he got a consistent flame, moving slowly from left to right over the edge of the blunt. His cheeks hollowed out as he sucked in, the tip of it an auburn ember. He pulled it out of his mouth and sucked in an even deeper breath, holding it.

When he blew out the thick cloud of smoke, he passed it to her, coughing under his breath. “Whew. Your turn.”

She followed suit, the thick smoke coating the inside of her lungs, bitter and heavy. She exhaled, the shroud smoke enveloping her view of the sealine.

11. reticent [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

She was bare.

Bare in the way that one is when they’ve been stripped down and torn apart with a trained gaze just calculating enough for them to feel seen – parts of her she didn’t know she’d hidden splayed out like withered pages of a book, dog-eared and marked up like a frequently reread novel.

One he’d reread because it was familiar, because it had fallen into his lap (he hadn’t searched for it), not so much because it was his favorite.

12. more [twc – mason x sofía] 18+

He laced his fingers through her thick hair, reveling in the way his skin looked contrasted against the midnight of her hair.

[the way i can’t post more than this bc it’s....... very nsfw right out the bat LMFAO]

13. calm before the storm [choices – open heart – bryce x spencer]

Since the moment his hands trembled amidst one of the most important surgeries of his life, Bryce was holding on by a thread.

With each half-assed joke he cracked, each wavering smile, each time he tried convincing others – including himself – that he was coping, he fell apart more and more.

The first night he went home after Spencer was quarantined, he trudged through the halls of Edenbrook, like he was dragging his legs through wet concrete. He was nearly magnetized to her bedside, not wanting to leave, but he needed to rest – he’d been awake for nearly a day and a half by the time he clocked out.

14. envy | part two of the attached series [twc – mason x sofía x felix]

He strode down the hallway, hands in his pockets to give the illusion that he didn’t give a shit, when he was most definitely on edge. His fingers flicked his lighter open and closed against the twill lining of his pockets, trying to focus on the soft clicking noise it made instead of the swarm of thoughts clouding his conscience.

He still couldn’t figure out why he cared so much.

15. comfort | part one of the attached series [twc – mason x sofía x felix]

He noticed it before she did.

Her pulse didn’t jump the same way it did the first dozen times he walked into the room. The blood didn’t rush to her cheeks, or creep up her neck, the crimson flush absent even when he tried his hardest to fluster her. And it normally took next to nothing to get her to turn into a bumbling mess.

16. out of time [choices – open heart – sienna x danny]

She sprinted down the hallway, pager still beeping erratically on her hip, the weight of the numbers enough to make her feel like she was slugging through wet concrete.

No, no, not him, please, not him, she chanted to herself, vision blurring with tears before she had the chance to let the negative possibilities set in.

17. unrequited part three [choices – open heart – bryce x spencer]

She slumped into the seat in the deserted waiting room, her joints popping as she stretched, her deep sigh echoing off of the tile. She was exhausted.

She could usually push through the worst of her shifts, but fatigue settled into her bones, a lethargy she’d never experienced entrapping her like a net, and she couldn’t fight her way out of it this time.

18. signs [choices – ride or die – logan x raquel]

“A final in sign language? Couldn’t you just have a conversation with the teacher or some shit?” Logan sat across from her on the couch, watching as her fingers bent and flexed, transfixed.

She stopped abruptly, screwing her mouth to the side in concentration. She repeated the same few moves, getting more and more frustrated with each sequence.

19. mementos [choices – ride or die – logan x raquel]

The sound of his boots slapping against the damp pavement reverberated off of the brick of the alleyways, his gasping breaths adding to the symphony that was his escape.

20. warmth [twc – mason x sofía]

“You’re going the wrong way,” Mason grunted, looking particularly stiff in her passenger seat.

“I thought we could take the scenic route,” she shrugged, flicking her high beams on as she turned off of the main road leading downtown, easing on the brakes when the tires hit the gravel.

okay so....... i didn’t really realize just HOW MUCH i’ve written since the summer? i’ve fallen into a pattern where i think i’m a failure bc of how slow i am to write because i have so many series i’ve started and dropped off and wips i’ve abandoned but.... i’ve managed to write for most appreciation weeks i’ve both hosted/participated in and i’ve written for THREE fandoms.... i don’t normally gas myself up but? i’m really? proud of myself? KSJDJKSD if you read this far thank you and you’re prob watching me have a breakdown over how much i’ve managed to write oh my GOD ok i need to lie down KLSDFKASFJD i didn’t even think i could hit 20 but i did???? alright i’m officially gonna treat myself at some point bc i did all this in less than a year.... these are from the end of july 2020 to now..... wow ok im done i promise SKDFJKSDF

tagging: @raleighcarrera and @pixeljazzy !!! <3 

[phcking-detective]

how does gavin feel about nines keeping the rock in his little stomach comparment?

he doesn’t know! :D

he won’t find out until, OK try to stay with me here, First Blood is the fic I just finished, If It Bleeds is the sequel, and Gavin will find out about the rock in the sequel-after-that, which I am already planning but haven’t named

I apologize for being such a content gremlin and slow burn fanatic, I tried to sketch out a rough outline, and I think--if you start at First Blood and not the three shorter fics before that--it will take seven fics total to finish this series overall

anyway

Nines falls off a very tall building (I’m thinking 7 stories maybe) and hits the ground a la Captain America after that elevator fight but he has no shield and he makes an android imprint in the concrete, because he is the character I have poured the most of myself into so I must :) hurt :) him :)

Gavin thinks he’s dead

Nines gets back up, takes the stairs all the way back up to the roof, and helps Gavin finish arresting the perp

(who is TERRIFIED)

(like imagine getting arrested and one cop gets yeeted off the roof and it’s like seven stories and the other cop is trying to read you your miranda rights through a psychological breakdown and is also Seriously Considering Murdering You and then the fucking STAIRWELL DOOR OPENS)

(AND IT’S THAT SAME FUCKING COP!!!!)

(and he just calmly picks up on the miranda rights and there’s concrete dust on his face and shoulders and one of his mcfucking eyeballs is cracked and he’s just)

(”--right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney. Also. If you confess at this present moment, you will not have to see me again.)

(YES I KILLED HER I CONFESS I’M SO SORRY PLEASE SEND ME TO JAIL WHERE I WILL BE SAFE INSIDE A CELL WHERE HE CAN’T GET ME)

(the other cop snorts and mutters it’s bold of you to assume a little fucking prison could stop him)

(you cry and pee yourself)

Nines’s only damage is that some of the delicate wiring inside his chassis got knocked unplugged, one optical unit is cracked but that’s similar enough to Connor’s it can just be swapped out for a spare eyeball, jesus, and the protectors around his processors shattered from absorbing the impact, so those need to be replaced in order to protect him next time, but he’s otherwise Fine

he does need those repairs tho; luckily! Hank has a repair station set up in his garage for Connor, so him and Gavin head over there and kick Hank and Connor out of their own garage because Nines Only Trusts Gavin

while he’s there and his chassis is open anyway, Nines also requests a slight upgrade, in which the little bio-component box thingy that holds his saliva and anything he eats be replaced with a slightly bigger box (bc he can Taste now and he likes slushies uwu), and this new box also has a little second box on the side of it? like, it’s a rectangle with two compartments, one is 10% big and the other 90% is the main compartment

Gavin has no idea what that’s about until he takes out the first box and sees the rock inside it, and he realizes this new tiny compartment is to hold the rock so it doesn’t get slushie and thirium saliva and food gunk on it, so he cleans the rock and puts it in its special little cubby hole and maybe a bitch tears up a bit don’t judge him!!

so that’s how Gavin finds out about the rock :)

(Nines keeps it there Forever)