burning fabric

5

Liam Dunbar x Reader

Requested by @alphanerd5sos

Warnings: Sexual content, smut, nsfw.
Word count: 2 134

Request: Can you a write a Liam Dunbar smut where the reader and him are bffs and she asks him what to do when you have sex and they kinda have feelings after they do it??

A/N: With the combination of the one Anon asking for ‘First time with Liam’.


You looked back and forth between your books and Liam, who was sitting at his desk, writing down information you needed for your presentation next week in history class. He was shuffling his feet under the chair in the same rhythm he tapped the tip of his pen against his textbook.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey, love. I was wondering if you know any good b!h fics? But like long ones. So maybe over 50k? Even if they share, that's cool too. Thank you💖

Hello! Here you go:

feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright:

Summary: “Alright, alright. No need to bite,” Harry says, holding his hands above his head in a general gesture of surrender.

Louis quirks an eyebrow and his foot nudges Harry’s as he moves to sit straight. “If that’s what you think biting is, you’ve got another thing coming, Styles.”

Harry blinks at him before he feels his face flush and inside the marrows of his bones there’s pulses of heat, pulses of fire spreading through him. “Is that a threat, your Highness?”

“That’s a promise,” Louis answers just as the car halts to a stop. “One I intend to keep.”

Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.

Word count: 123,176

Truth Be Told (I Never Was Yours) by JustForTommo:

Summary: Harry watches Louis as he scrunches up his nose and bites the end of a pen in concentration. He’s been working on seating arrangements for the past hour and getting more frustrated by the minute. Louis huffs out a breath and glances down at Harry with a soft smile on his lips before he returns to the task at hand. It’s easy, right then, for Harry to let himself believe that they’re planning a seating chart for their own wedding and bickering over who is going to sit where from a list of their own family members. He can let himself daydream about a white picket fence and a dog that they could have within the next year.

It’s like a cold slap in the face when Harry looks to the top of the page to see “Aiden and Louis Grimshaw” at the head table, and Harry has to mentally remind himself for the thousandth time that Louis is not his. Never was, really. He’s just the wedding planner that’s been in love with Louis since he was sixteen.

(or the one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.)

Word count: 76,907

And I’ll judge the cover by the book by harrystylesandstuff:

Summary: At twenty years old Harry has his life figured out. He’ll graduate from the private University of Buckingham and move to Oxford to study journalism. He’ll meet someone who shares his values and accepts who he is, and apply everything his successful parents have taught him.

At twenty-two years old Louis has no clue what he wants in life. He’s not sure he’ll pass the year and doesn’t know where he’ll go after that. He spends his time smoking away his doubts about himself with his friends and all he cares about is making sure his family doesn’t fall apart.They don’t belong together.

Or a Private University AU where Harry is a queer posh prince, Louis is a closeted troublemaker, and neither expect to understand each other the way they will.

Word count: 73,810

never gonna dance again by togetherwecouldbealright:

Summary: Harry is quiet for a moment and his fingers feel like they’re burning past the fabric of Louis’ jumper, branding his skin. “Can I kiss you?“

This is where Louis should walk away and leave Harry to pirouette and cambré by himself in the faint moonlight shining through the windows. He is a spy and Harry is a dancer. There are lines that should not be crossed.Louis surges forward.

Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.

Word count: 55,629

Time Bomb by ThisSentimentalHeart:

Summary: “Why exactly are you here?” Louis asked, feigning annoyance and failing pathetically at it.

“My publicist told me I can’t go anywhere near you.” Harry said, eyes still smudged with last night’s eye liner. “That makes you my favorite person in the world.”

Or the one where Louis has everything: a lead role in a giant Hollywood franchise, a glittering new house with an entertaining Irish neighbor, and a steady, normal boyfriend who he probably loves. Louis never expected to become a household name among young Hollywood overnight. He also never expected to find something endearing about the enigmatic rockstar who keeps showing up on his back porch.

Word count: 291,555

Hate Me To The Moon by harrystylesandstuff:

Summary: The last thing Harry wanted was to spend his entire summer stuck with his dad’s new fiancée and her kids. He wants no more when he learns she’s a very religious dictator, raising a sixteen year old nun and a clean cut potential priest ass kisser.

Everything takes a slightly different turn, however, when Harry finds out his future step-brother is actually the rude stranger he caught sucking off a guy in a pub, far from the reserved Christian his mom thinks he is…

AU where Harry is a sexy nerd, Louis is a great actor, and they both pretend to hate each other’s guts to convince themselves they’re not feeling things future step-brothers shouldn’t feel…

Word count: 83,616

baby we could be enough (i’ll make this feel like home) by orphan_account:

Summary: “Did you clean the table?” Harry asks Louis once Rose is done speaking, now occupied with trying to see if she can reach over and touch Harry’s hair from where she’s sat. At Louis’ nod, Harry frowns. “You didn’t have to do that. You’re my guests here, I could’ve dealt with it later.”

Louis just smiles easily, though, adjusting Rose on his lap so that she’s facing Harry better. She manages to tug on a loose wave of hair, and she makes a noise of triumph that both Louis and Harry smile at.

“I don’t mind,” Louis murmurs to Harry, even though he’s looking at Rose. “This one here seemed very excited to talk to you.”

And, okay. Harry can’t help but think of how domestic this feels, all of a sudden.

[harry is a photographer who’s trying to find his place. louis is a single father with a smile that feels like home.]

Word count: 52,095

Can’t Hide It, You Might As Well Embrace It by supernope:

Summary: Together since they were teenagers, Harry and Louis are professors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They may also secretly be married.

Word count: 67,670

take me all the way down by sleepylouis:

Summary: Harry Styles is young, successful, and positively dangerous.Mark Tomlinson decides he has to go. Louis Tomlinson is just the man for the job.- or 

-The CEO AU where success is all Louis Tomlinson has known–until Harry Styles comes into his life, of course.

Word count: 69,112

Falling For Me Won’t Be A Mistake by Rearviewdreamer:

Summary: Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn’t know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he’s ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

Word count: 58,591

Another part that I enjoy about festivals is when you camp and you get to decorate your camping area! 

These would be a great addition to any campsite!

Fabric Flags: That New Label on Etsy, $44, Buy them Here

ot13; the ways you said "i love you"

Originally posted by 12fools

feat: reader x seventeen 

genre: marshmallow fluff, random au with each member

word count: 6283

summary: the thirteen ways seventeen shows how much they care about you

rated p for terrible puns and tastefully executed profanity

Keep reading

Originally posted by duchessharley

Imagine Digger getting jealous of everyone in the Squad checking you out, so he asks Harley to spread the word that you’re his.

“She’s mine. Spread the word.” Digger stares at your back, his predatory gaze burning holes in the fabric covering it.

You fall back to catch up with him, kissing his cheek swiftly. “Something wrong, Cap?”

He smiles softly, looking down at your soft features. “Nah, just makin’ sure everyone’s in thir place.”

*gif not mine credit to the owner ^-^*

anonymous asked:

Your Stabby post is an absolute gift! Does Vader ever discover that Luke is (in true Skywalker fashion) responsible for this murderous menace and overtly dote upon his mechanical pseudo- grandchild? Does it become an intergalactic custody dispute as one side after the other make increasingly ridiculous kidnapping attempts?

AHAHAHA omfg of course this happens

As was concluded in the previous post: Stabby ends up toodling around The Executor, stabbing random Imperial Officers. Within a week, someone has made a poster that has a picture of Stabby on it, accompanied by the text STABBINGS WILL CONTINUE UNTIL MORAL IMPROVES. 

(how disrespectful, Vader says to the Emperor. hmmm says Sheev Palpatine, who remembers what Anakin Skywalker’s handwriting looks like.)

One day, an Imperial Officer experiences a truly awful stab. It is hot, and cold, and tearing and he jerks his leg out of the way as the reek of burning fabric and flesh simmers upwards and –

Someone has given Stabby a mini-lightsabre. 

It is red. Of course it is red. 

Stabby’s viewcam is still linked to the Rebel Base. Of course, it would be the matter of an eyeblink to disconnect it – after all, Vader built a functioning droid from scrap (a long time ago, in a galaxy far away) but he doesn’t. He keeps it on. And so when Luke, on a whim, pulls up Stabby’s feed and sees that his beautiful robot baby is now a Sith.

There is another, he thinks, and clenches his robot hand. His eyes narrow.

……and then Luke, who is famed for many things but not his ability to keep a cool head when those things he loves are threatened, launches a Daring and Spectacular solo raid and returns cradling Stabby like an infant child. He disconnects the evil red sabre and makes another one. 

It’s purple. Green and blue just doesn’t suit Stabby. 

By this time, the Rebel Alliance has updated their cleaning droids to a smaller, slicker model. Within a month, Stabby has a cohort of baby Stabbys following him around. Some have knives. Some have diddy lightsabres (because once Luke works out how to make them he declares them the best thing ever and refuses to stop making them.)

Vader sees this through the viewcam – Stabby surrounded by baby Stabbys, training them in the art of Stabbing – and feels Feelings which he does not like Feeling (look at the children learning, master Skywalker there are so many of them) and so vows to steal Stabby back and return him to the Dark side. 

….. look I’m not saying that Vader goes in alone to get his robot back but that is exactly what he does because the extra is strong with the Skywalker Clan. And Stabby sears half of Vader’s hand off, and the tiny Stabbys trip him up, and that is how Luke Skywalker captures his father. Definitely.

In His Dorm, In His Room

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Fluff, Smut
Summary: The inner-workings of your relationship with a dance partner, friend, and crush, Jeon Jungkook.

{credit to original photo} [Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5]

The adrenaline still ran through your veins as your dance instructor permitted you guys to “disperse” from the atrium. Your dance group, along with all the others, had a ‘pow wow’ where you performed the pieces you would dance at the showcase only just a month away. Your mind drowned in the hoots and hollers of the other performers as they watched your group perform, it was a well-needed confidence boost.

Jungkook was at your side in an instant as you gathered your belongings, putting on your sweater.

“So, you were pretty amazing today,” he complimented shyly. You smirked.

“Really, for which group?” Both you and Jungkook belonged to one dance group, Dance From Motion (DFM), while Jungkook belonged to Tertiary Movement and you also danced for Evolution of Dance (EoD).

He gathered his backpack, following you though he should have been the one leading the way. “Both, idiot. You’re an incredible dancer.”

You heart warmed at the compliment. “Thanks. You were pretty amazing, too.”

His smile fell and you instantly thought of what you could have said wrong. “Really? I wasn’t feeling the set for Tertiary.” You nodded instantly, having an idea of what he meant.

“You look a little bit uncomfortable when the couple dances of the set come in.”

He shrugged while nodding at your critique. “Maybe it’s because I’d rather have someone else all up on me for those parts of the set.” He bent towards you, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively as you rolled your eyes. It was no guess that he liked you, and you liked him back. You had already had that conversation with him, but neither of you said anything about it after your confessions. You guys had, what you believed, a healthy flirtationship.

“Either way,” you countered, “you need to get into it. It’s not like I can take the girl’s place just cause you want me in there.” His silence only made you think he was actually considering that as a possibility, so you quickly changed the subject. “Are you going back to your dorm?”

Jungkook nodded as you walked outside to the fresh, cool autumn air. “Jin is making dinner tonight. You wanna come over? Or will it be too late for you?” You were a commuter on campus, meaning you didn’t live there but came to class from home everyday. It was only 8pm, not too late. You gave a confirmation that coming over wouldn’t hinder you at all.

You got to the dorm building in less than 10 minutes; the trek there has gotten easier since the first time, seeing you’ve frequented Jungkook’s dorm countless times. You’d already met his other six roommates, and they’ve grown accustomed to your company.

“[Y/n]!” You heard Seokjin exclaim as you followed Jungkook inside. The other boys were in the living room, as well, playing video games and conversing with one another. The others greeted you as you did them, and Seokjin called you over to their small kitchen.

“I already baked the cornbread muffins,” he said with a low tone, as if it was a secret. Before you could either decline or accept, he slipped the muffin into your hands, staring at the guys in the living room to make sure none of them were looking.

“So, what’s wrong with my face, exactly?” Jungkook asked, stealing a bite from the small muffin as you dropped your stuff into the corner of his room. It was rather expansive, meant to fit two beds, but there was an odd number of boys, and he lucked out as the last addition to their roommate arrangement.

You plopped into the seat by his desk as he pulled another chair from by his bed. “You just weren’t convincing me, y’know?” He shook his head, silently saying he didn’t know.

“The song, the dance, it’s all sensual,” you explained. “It’s about the tease, making them follow you not only with your movements, but with your face.”

He sat quietly, letting your words marinate properly, before he finally looked with a grin. “You maybe want to demonstrate what you mean?”

You shrugged, getting up to go to your bookbag and retrieve your phone, already scrolling through the songs.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Jungkook questioned, watching as you placed your phone on his desk and you stood in front of him.

“Lapdance,” you answered nonchalantly. “Lap dances are all about the tease. They’re very powerful.” You waited patiently, watching as he measured how serious you were. Seeing your sincere, leveled expression, he nodded.

“There’s only one rule: no touching,” you state, shuffling from foot to foot as the music slowly builds. The beginning is on the longer side, and fortunately so, since your rule ignites curiosity out of Jungkook.

“Is that, like, an actual rule?” His head cocked to the side, eyes trained on yours and attentive on getting answers. “How do you know that? Who else have you given lap dances to?” His genuine wonder made you smirked before giving a heavy sigh of exasperation before focusing again.

“Are you jealous? Do you not want me to continue?” He shifted in his seat at your threat of stopping before you even started. You allowed the music, amplified by the hard surface of his wooden desk, to take over once again, your swaying becoming more pronounced with every beat.

It starts off as an act - the sensual swing of your hips, the arch in your back, the way your hands fell limp as they slid down your neck and lightly down your chest - all of it was just to get into the mood, more focused on the way the music controls your movements. Your eyes had closed when your act started, the spotlight you imagined shining down on you all behind your closed eyelids. But as you open and meet the fire burning in his brown eyes, it’s simply not an act anymore.

Soon your hands are burning a trail that his eyes ignite, a fire that flickers to life in your stomach as your movements become more purposeful, exact. He’s guiding you to drag your feet forward with the longing in his expression, but you’re the one still in control, the one on top. You slide your knee to the chair, grateful it’s big enough so you can maneuver without having to touch him so excessively. You’re there, knees digging into the plush cushion of the chair as you straddle him, hovering over him and holding his intense gaze. Your hands rest at his shoulders, moving the small distance to settle at the crook of his neck. You see his hands twitch on his lap, and you’re quick to remind him, “No touching.”

“But you’re touching me,” he argues with the slightest hint of a whine in his voice.

“Keep your hands to yourself unless I say so. That’s how this works in the real world,” you pause, moving your hips back and forth and letting your head fall to the side with a heavy breath, “so this is how it’ll work in here.”

He pouts, his eyes unable to keep from roaming over your motions, begging for more. “You’re really no fun, [y/n].”

Even with his complaining in the beginning, soon you’ve gotten his full attention, entranced with the way your thighs lowered you ever so slightly, just a hair away from grazing his lap. You could forgive the burn in your thighs from all the work when you saw his jaw slackened from awe, staring intensely with a hitch in his breath every time your hips went down. You let one of your hands move down his chest, his skin burning through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your eyes followed your hand, glancing up through your lashes to see he did so as well. He was still in the palm of your hands, right where you needed him.

His throat bobbed with the heavy gulp as you took his hand in yours, placing it firmly on your hip, his palm damp from heat. Almost unconsciously, his thumb slid under the hem of your shirt, aching for more contact than he was allowed. You stilled, a glare burning your gaze before you yanked at the collar of his shirt until it pulled over his head and threw it to the side. You weren’t sure how long you could keep up this act, what with the rise and fall of his chest giving away his desire as much as his tensing muscles as you continued to caress softly at his torso.

Your skin began to prickle with heat and sweat under your efforts; you took both his hands, placing them on his hips before letting your arms wrap around his neck, your mouth moving to his neck, nipping at the skin before whispering, “Do you what you want,” before dropping into his lap, sharing a groan as you ground heavily against his hard member through both layers of clothing.

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you in tighter as you continued your grind, while the other moved over your skin, sliding up your thigh, making its way up your torso, your skin jumping under his blazing touch. He grabbed at your breast as he bucked upwards, sending a jolt through your core that brought a moan to your lips, muffled by the burning skin of his neck. He twisted his face, catching your lips with his as he ground against you. The song had ended, you noticed through the lust-filled fog of your brain, and the room grew quiet safe for the smack of your lips, the heavy breathing as you both tried to grab onto air without breaking apart.

Your grip on his neck grew tighter as you slid your body against the hard planes of his, trying to get as much friction out of your current position. Nothing was enough, and a whine escaped between the sloppy kisses. His hand slid back down your waist, hand pushing at the hem of your shirt and you leaned back just a tad so he could keep his hands moving up and up-

“Yo, it got way too quiet in here!” Taehyung bellowed, bursting through the door with a huge grin on his face before his eyes bugged at the sight before him. You jerked away, losing your balance and falling to the floor with a dull thump against the hard carpet. Taehyung’s eyes flashed between you and Jungkook, before laughing, doubling over from where he was half inside the room. “I can’t believe I actually walked in on something, holy shit!” He continued his laugh before shaking his head and leaving the room, closing the door.

You and Jungkook shared a sigh, thinking the interruption was finally gone. But, alas, there was a yell right outside the door.

“Whenever you get your shirt on, dinner is ready!”

You huffed out a laugh, more amused by your initial embarrassment than anything else. You finally meet Jungkook’s gaze and your eyes trail down his body until you see the hard-on showing so visibly in his tight jeans and you deflate because there’s no way you can do anything now.

“I should probably go.” You find your voice to be rather low and small since it fills the room so easily. When your statement receives only silence, you nod and stand up, stretching out your legs and not letting yourself walk as if your knees were bent for too long. You grab your sweater and book bag, heading to the door when Jungkook finally reacts, standing in front of the door before you can reach the handle.

“You don’t...have to go,” he says, his voice wavering with his still heavy breathing. You lick at your lips to hide the smirk, watching his bare chest move and the way he shifts from foot to foot faintly with his body still reacting to your makeout session.

You used your finger to push him aside, enjoying how easily he let you pass. “Just use what I did,” you said as you opened the door. “It’s not just the moves, it’s the facials. I hope you were paying attention.”

The light clicked in his head as he watched the way your teeth grazed your lip. “Yeah, I’m a fast learner,” he said. You waved your goodbyes to the guys sitting in the living room as you walked towards the door, not showing how obvious their stares were as they watched a shirtless Jungkook escort you to the door.

He opened the door for you. “I promise to show you what I learned tomorrow in practice,” he paused, gnawing at the inside of his cheek, “and maybe afterwards?” The hope in his eyes was too childlike for you not to giggle at. Goodness, what had this boy done to you?

“I’ll see you at practice, Kookie,” you cooed, walking towards the elevator.

Jungkook sighed as he watched you enter the elevator, closing the door and tugging at his pants again to try and relieve some pressure from his still ever-so-present issue. Taehyung poked his head from the  the corner of the living room before sashaying to his position against the door. He presented Jungkook with a bottle of water.

“You want this? You look a bit thirsty.” He barely got the joke out before he laughed out, doubling over again. Jungkook only cursed under his breath before heading back to his room. Your words echoed in his head: It’s about the tease, making them follow you not only with your movements, but with your face. The only thing that filled his head as he headed to the bathroom was the run of your tongue against your lips as your hand trailed down his chest.

“You gonna take care of something, Kookie?” Jimin called out, followed by a howl of laughter from the rest of the guys as he pushed on the bathroom door and slammed it shut. You’d played the tease until the very end and one day he’d pay you back.


*A/N: Since this is a repost, Part 2 will be coming soon ^-^*

Guide to Smoking Meth-WITH TORCH LIGHTER

Originally posted by meditateandhallucinate


Why A Torch Lighter Is Ideal:-Your product liquifies, then smokes, almost instantly
-It is MUCH easier to control the direction the meth flows, as well as what is receiving heat
-You can get MUCH bigger hits
-You can avoid burning it so much easier than with other flames
-No flickering flame
-Butane refills are cheap as fucking shit (I got a hairspray-sized bottle of Zippo butane for the price of 2 disposable lighters)
-Don’t burn your thumb as much
-Sessions can be initiated and/or finished faster

Downsides-If you don’t pay attention, you can burn the shit out of your product, or yourself. BE CAREFUL, PAY ATTENTION, AND BE PATIENT
-Smoke through your stash quicker
-Possibly worse burns because its hotter than a bic


How to smoke meth with torch lighter for beginners:
1)First ensure that your pipe is clean.

Why?
For the ice to smoke properly. DO NOT load fresh product in a pipe with product that has been smoked, burned, or otherwise heated. If you load fresh on top of a still smokable bowl, the new and old will melt/smoke at different speeds/temperatures (can’t remember which is which right now, but I think old smokes faster), ensuing that it is very difficult to evenly heat the product. Then you get spots where part of the crystalized mass liquifies and will move with the flame, but some of it needs more heat, and for me at least, some always gets burned or darkened, and has a bad taste. If you load fresh product in a pipe with burnt shit in there, IT WILL TASTE LIKE SHIT. It will often also not melt/smoke right, AND your new stuff will taste like burnt stuff, which is THE WORST taste in the world (IM0). (FYI-I’ve heard that blowing cigarette smoke through a oil pipe (like you were going to hit it, but exhaling smoke through it instead) removes the taste. I have tried with pot smoke and it didn’t work, but have read many people say that cigarettes work.

How to Clean the Inside of A Pipe-If it is not clean, a very easy method is to fill a microwavable container (like a coffee mug) with 50% water, 50% bleach, and put the pipe (bowl facing downwards) in the water.
-Put it in the microwave for 4 minutes (yes, seriously that long-I tried after 1, 2, and 3 minutes and it didn’t work. May even take 5.)
-Let cool. Once cooled, remove from mug and drain all water.
-Using Q-tips, insert through carb hole and “mop up” the stuff left in the bowl. This may take several qtips depending on the bowl. If there is still black/brown stuff in the bowl, apply more pressure
(be careful not to break the bowl by pressing the q tip too hard on the sphere, OR accidentally pressing on the side of the carb when trying to reach around inside with q tip.) If there is still stuff in there, I have read that small bits of Magic Eraser stuffed in, and manipulated with a pole (like a q tip) work wonders, but also have not tried.

How to Clean the Outside of a PiPE
-Using a wet rag, or balled-up wet paper towels/toilet paper/napkins/etc, rub the outside of the bowl. This should cause the stuff on the outside to transfer onto the paper.
-If this doesn’t work, steel wool may work.

Handling/Prepping Product

-Dont handle meth by hand. It’s bad for your skin, and little amounts will dissolve. Instead, use:
Ideally: a 7/11 straw (this is a straw whose last inch or so is a scoop, sometimes used for slurpees or w/e those frozen drinks are; these straws I have found to be ideal for handling all sorts of drugs).
Realistically: Normal Straw: Straw been sealed on one end (tape, seal it with flame), and on the other has a 45 degree angle (45 degree is diagonal; if you cut a square in half diagonally, the diagonal line is 45). This allows you to scoop small fragments out of a bag, tin, or other carrying device easily, as the angled mouth scoops up crumbs, especially in corners of bags; while the sealed back prevents any from accidentally spilling.

Size/Shape
-Make sure your product is all of the same consistency. I find it best to use one crystal, preferably large (but not to large). I find the size of a tic tac, or slightly larger, to be ideal. Also, cubic or rectangular is best possible shape IME. I will often break long, skinny crystals because they dont burn as well as more square ones, and broken into small squares, they will smoke more evenly.
-While you can load bigger crystals with smaller bits/shake, I generally find it is best to load similar sized rocks. That is, load all shake, load two or three crystals of equal size, or put one crystal in there (usually a big one).
-If you need to break a crystal into smaller bits to make equal sized crystals (or to make odd shaped crystal more square), place a sanitary, nonabsorbent material on top of/around the crystal (no dollars bills here, printer paper works great.) and either snap it in two, or push against a surface. If pressing, you can use a finger, debit card, whatever, just slowly apply more pressure so you can crush to consistency of your liking. If you crush it all the way, you have shake(aka powder).

Differences Between Methods
Single Crystal (often large): Crystal will slowly lose mass as it melts, evenly becoming a pool (as long as you thoroughly spread it around the bowl).
Multiple Little Ones: If you evenly heat them: Will slowly melt into each other. Will be left with a very spread-out puddle, possibly multiple spread out ones.
If unevenly heated: There will be areas meth of varying thickness, accompanied by uneven melting and probable darkening/burning,.
Shake: Will liquify very quickly; little bits that haven’t yet been heated may go to weird parts of the bowl when you begin twisting, so you end up with tiny blotches and a single large or a few smaller puddles.

Loading Product
-Using straw, scoop your product into the chamber. Keeping upright, grab oil pipe and tilt at an angle so that the carb is pointing sideways, or angled down slightly. This will allow you to insert straw opening into carb before tipping the straw, ensuring you don’t miss the hole and lose any.
-Once inserted, twist pipe (while holding onto straw of course) until carb is once again pointing up. Tap straw to get all the little bits into the pipe (if meth is still sticking, use a scraper of some kind).
-Remove straw, and put pipe on level surface, BETWEEN TWO OBJECTS. THE PIPE WILL ROLL PEOPLE, AND WILL SPILL ALL YOUR GODDAMN PRODUCT AND/OR FALL ON THE FLOOR AND BREAK. UGH!

Now that you have a loaded pipe, ensure that you are ready to begin. Suggestions include
-Water
(lots of it!!) Both meth and smoking dehydrate you, and the more dehydrated you are, the more you will suffer from dental damage and brain damage (neurotoxicity). A large amount of methamphetamine neurotoxicity (and most dopamine toxicity) is temperature-dependent, as it often induces hyperthermia (This is similar to MDMA, aka XTC, Molly, rolls, etc). Water cools your body.
You should be urinating with irritating frequency, and should be voiding clear urine, otherwise you are already dehydrated (unless taking assloads of vitamins or something).
-Music
I can’t even describe how much music enhances the experience of smoking meth. It synergizes well-the meth makes the music sound insane, and in turn the music intensifies the high, making me feel even more intelligent/strong/attractive/cool/special. This is the part of the high I crave, and it rarely occurs (at least with the intensity I like) without music.
-Spare lighter/butane refill
When smoking meth, you are always running out of fuel. The spare lighter is also useful because lighters get really hot when ignited for long periods of time (like when smoking meth) and you can swap them out.
-Wet (but not sopping) rag or bundled tissues/paper towels/toilet paper/etc
This is to set the pipe on when not using it (a hot pipe will burn fabrics, fucking up whatever its on as well as the pipe), and to cool down the pipe after a hit. The pipe stays hot for a while, and if you don’t hit it, drugs are being lost/wasted. If you cool the pipe, it will stop heating the drugs faster (duh). Do not do this immediately after getting the pipe really hot-heat and cold on glass can break it. Wait for it to cool slightly, then use it.
When you use the rag to cool underneath liquified dope, it will emit a lot of smoke while crystalizing I read somewhere that the meth actually vaporizes/produces smoke when it hits cooler surface, but I don’t know the validity of that. I do know that cold makes it smoke more though.
-Salt Water
Swishing and gargling salt water while smoking meth (ie after a hit, and definitely after a session) will help prevent canker sores, help kill bacteria (which will inhibit meth mouth) clear mucus in back of throat (which will build up from smoking ice, and may possibly absorb some of it), and prevent sore throat. Its really easy-just add table salt to water (not too much). Some people say to use hot water, but there is more bacteria in hot water pipes, so I use cold.
-Biotene Products
These are oral healthcare products designed to combat dry mouth. There is an oral gel that you kind of spread in your mouth and coats it to act like a artificial saliva. It tastes kinda bad (not awful) and feels weird, but it beats dry/cracking skin, and is good for oral health. They also make alcohol-free (alcohol makes dry mouth worse) mouthwash that I find makes me produce a bnch of saliva for like 10-30 minutes, which can be helpful. They have toothpaste, but that is only to not irritate dry mouth. Finally, they have oral mouthspray, which is apparently the best, but I have not tried yet.
-Weed
Weed makes meth smoking more fun I find. Its hard to describe. Go slow as you may have negative anxiety reaction


Positioning:

The pipe will need to be twisted back and forth, so for me, I hold it in the middle of the stem between my middle finger and thumb. This allows me to easily roll the pipe back and forth. The carb is facing the sky/ceiling, and I have the pipe slanted, so the bowl is slightly closer to the floor than the mouthpiece. This allows me to put my index finger over the mouthpiece. so that when I first heat up the bowl all the initial smoke (that you will not yet inhale because it is not super thick and you want to build up a good hit) goes up the stem and is trapped by my finger rather than out through the little carb hole (which it will do when the stem is filled with smoke). Finally, it also allows me to use my pinky to cover the carb (I rarely do this because often the carb is hot).

Lighter

[Torch] Lighter is held in the other hand, underneath the dope in the bowl. Adjust your flame to lowest setting (if you can). While initially hitting the bowl, since your mouth is not on the mouthpiece, you can hold the pipe in front of you while you heat to gaug distance between flame and bowl, and make sure the flame is under the drugs. However, once you begin inhaling, you have a much worse view (through the bowl), and it is easy to hold the lighter too close (or far, but usually close), or to have it not even under the bowl. Due to poor depth perception (which I assume is from the drugs), or some visual warping from the curvature of the glass, its really easy to do this, and happens a lot. A mirror is helpful so you can see yourself. Another option is attaching flexible tubing (like aquarium tubing) to the mouthpiece so you can inhale through that while holding the pipe in front of you. This will also enable you to make meth bongs (search it).

Philosophy of Smoking Meth
Meth becomes a clear liquid when heated, then vaporizes into a white smoke. The idea is to heat whatever you placei n the pipe evenly so that it all melts down to liquid, then, by twisting the pipe, spread the liquid all around the bowl, so that it doesn’t stay in a hot place for too long and burn. Once liquified, the pipe can be twisted. This allows you to put your flame ahead of the liquid (think of the liquid chasing the flame), so that once the glass is heated, it will fall/roll down the curve towards your lighter and smoke. As you get close carb, you begin to twist the other way, keeping the liquid following your flame. However, with a torch lighter, you can soon twist the pipe without the flame and the liquid will still run for a while, and when it doesn’t is when you reapply the flame.

Quick Info On Torch Lighters
Torch lighters are very hot, much hotter than bics. Their flame is much more intense, and the heat above is much hotter than a bic. Therefore, you must keep much more distance between your lighter and pipe than with a bic. It will vary according to lighter type, pipe thickness, and especially flame size; but my flame is maybe between 1/3 and ½ of an inch, and my lighter stays 1-3 inches away from the pipe; with me increasing distance the longer its lit.
-Also, you do not heat the bowl with a torch lighter for long periods of time like you do a bic. Once it begins to smoke, quit using the lighter, and only reapply once the liquid quits moving when you twist the pipe. Also, be sure to twist pipe while lighting the whole time with a torch lighter, even if it is slowly. You cannot really get away with heating in one spot for a short period of time like you can with a bic.


Smoking

Premelt:
-Keeping your flame 1-2 inches below the bowl, roll flame in a circle around the perimeter of your product, so the outermost portion begins to liquify. Remember to continue moving the flame.
-As it begins to liquify, begin twisting the pipe back and forth. You want to heat the edges of the product and then the glass adjacent to the edges to make it flow there. However, when reversing the direction of the twist, make sure to heat the inside/middle for a moment as well so that it will melt once the dope bordering it has melted.
-Eventually you will have a puddle of liquid that is mobile-stop heating! COntinue to twist the pipe to spread the stuff around and wait for it to recrystalize (turn back into a liquid). You can speed this up by touching pipe with damp rag/paper towels/etc, but I like to let it cool by itself the first time. Wait for the pipe to cool down-its worth it.

Smoking
(this is assuming you are covering the mouthpiece and have the pipe angled like I mentioned in positioning)
-Now you should have a thin puddle of clear crystals stuff. Once again, heat with flame around the perimeter (much bigger this time, but it will also melt faster now because its thinner). Once melted, it should soon begin to smoke. Cease lighting once it begins smoking a fair bit and continue to twist.
-Because you have your finger over the mouthpiece and the pipe angled, the hot vapor will travel up the stem, and be trapped. Once vapor begins to emerge out of the carb hole, quickly take your finger off the stem and begin inhaling (do this quick because the stem is filled with vapor).
To Inhale:
You do not need to actually suck most of the time. With the pipe angled, simply forming a seal on the mouthpiece is usually enough, and if you have to inhale, do not suck like smoking. Instead, inhale like you are breathing but VERY slowly/softly. It takes very little pressure and the bigger hit you get, the better IMO.
Reheating
Use the torch for very brief periods of time. Once the liquid is moving and smoking agian, stop. You can also use more, but never use less once its burned.
Finishing your hit:
If your lungs are full and it is still smoking, cover the carb and mouthpiece and continue twisting. I like to hold my hits for 4-8 seconds, some say blow out right away, but I dont like that. You can also use a damp rag or damp paper towels/toilet paper/napkins/etc and wipe the bowl, to cool it down and make the liquid recrystalize faster (dont do this when the bowl is still super hot because it can break it). This will make it smoke a lot for a second so I like to do it while inhaling.

For Experienced Users:I have found the torch lighter to be far superior to the bic. With the bic, I would experience uneven and slow heating/melting. Now, I have almost instantaneous liquification, followed by thick smoke, and as long as I use the torch sparingly, no darkening of product. The trick is to be patient and methodical:
-Use the torch 1-3 inches away from the bowl
-Move it quickly
-“Encourage” the liquid to trael all over the bowl by leading it with the flame
-Use inward swirling movements, especially during the melting phase
-I recommend using single, squareish crystals for this.

Everything

Alex Summers x Reader

Words: 2,243
Plot: Alex and the reader definitely have the hots for eachother. One thing leads to another, and she ends up in his bed. Not even remotely not smut. Definitely explicitly 100% smut. Hot, sexy and flirty. Good God, just so smutty.
A/N: I am disgusting in a good way. So is Alex, apparently.

Originally posted by winterspoetryandbands

Leaning back against the tattered sofa of the rec room, (y/n) laughed as Sean tried to open a beer with his teeth, cursing loudly at the bottle as it made a horrible grinding sound. The old jukebox in the corner was playing soft rock music; something about unrequited love and cowboys.
They’d been training for weeks on and off; new students arriving every second day waiting to be shown around. So when Xavier recommended they take the weekend off; Sean had jumped at the chance to have a night in of beer and pizza.

In her tired and tipsy state, (y/n) found her eyes wandering.
Wandering to him. 


Across the room, Alex was slumped across an armchair; a novel resting in his lap as he sipped at one of the cheap beers Sean had bought earlier.
Alex Summers was intoxicating. Dirty blonde hair and piercing grey eyes; sunlight and rain. All pale skin and full lips and a smile that could set a fire in her blood. 

But god, he was infuriating. All the teasing, the cocky half-smiles he’d shoot across the room when he muttered something under his breath. The way he’d leave his jackets strewn across the floor for someone to slip on; the way he spent every waking hour he could using all the hot water in the mansion. How he’d roll his eyes and scoff whenever anything was asked of him; running a hand through his hair like he didn’t know he was so damn enchanting and perfect. Wearing his tight white shirt and blue jeans and looking like he’d fallen out of heaven itself, a twitch at the corners of his mouth as he turned the page of his book with a flick…
Ugh. There she went again. How did this always happen?

“…You’re not even listening to me” Sean grumbled, taking a swig of his beer as he thumped his feet up onto the coffee table.
“I was! I was listening” interjected “you were…talking about…beer?”
Sean rolled his eyes, sighing.
“Points for trying” he muttered, smiling slightly. He reached down into his pocket, plucking his keys out and rolling them in his fingers. “Hank’s driving to get food, right?”
(y/n) shrugged, rubbing a strand of hair between her fingers “probably. You going with him?”
Sean pushed himself off of the couch with a grunt, tossing his keys down onto the table.
“Better than being ignored here” he teased, sniffing as he pushed open the door into the corridor, the sound of his boots echoing against the mahogany floorboards.

And then, the atmosphere changed.
She felt the fire building in her veins as she glanced over at Alex; his eyes steady on his book as he shifted his weight slightly. The dim lighting in the room washed his hair with flecks of gold; his jaw tight as he avoided her gaze.
(y/n) grabbed the half a bottle of beer Sean had left and took a long swig; the bitterness washing the rising butterflies in her stomach further down.
It had been a long time since they’d been alone in a room together; she tried to remember if they ever had.
The music softly slipped melodies into the background; love and yearning. That didn’t help with the burning in her cheeks, though.

“You okay?” Alex said, eyes still set on his book as he swung his legs around nonchalantly, sitting upright on the armchair.
She swore she felt her heart stop, if only for a second.
(y/n) nodded, her mouth full of beer. God, she was a total moron.
“Enjoying your book?” she breathed, her voice all too high and fast in her throat.
“I haven’t actually been paying much attention to the book” he half-smiled, throwing it across to the coffee table. It landed with a thunk on the wooden surface; narrowly missing the bottle of beer.

“A bit distracted?” she said quietly, her hands drumming at her sides.
Risky.
“Yeah, something like that” he muttered, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. His head cocked to the side; his lips pressing upwards on one side. She could see the spark in his eyes: something was playing on his mind.
Something that set her blood alight.
“What?” she breathed, feeling lightheaded.
He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. The way it flicked beneath his fingers made her hands weak.
“Think Sean might be pining after you”.
She laughed, heat rushing to her face.
“And what’s that to you, Summers?” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She could feel the heat running through her; feel the pulsing in her blood.
She heard him sigh deeply, biting his bottom lip for a brief moment.
God, if only he knew what that did to her.
“That depends on what it is to you” he breathed, his grey eyes steady as he blinked slowly, colour flooding to his cheeks.
“Are you implying something, Alex? Because you’re welcome to-”
“Ten minutes” he interjected, standing up and grabbing his beer from off of the table “my room”.
(y/n) felt her heart skip, trying desperately not to show her loss of composure in her face.
She tried a sly smile, crossing her legs and meeting his gaze.
“See you then, Summers”.

***
Alex could feel the sweat clinging to his palms as he paced around his room; feel the way his clothes didn’t quite fit anywhere they should.
What the hell was he doing? This was insane. He didn’t know what he was thinking: what he was doing.
But god, he couldn’t take this…wanting. Constantly trying to be funny, or sexy, or somebody she’d even remotely notice. Those sideways glances in the corridor that made his head spin and his toes clench.
Those nights that he ached, alone. Whispering her name in the dark.
It wasn’t just the lust; the keening need to feel her skin against his. This was more; more than Alex Summers had ever thought it could be. More than those fleeting moments of desire that had come before her.
This was an ache for her. Her being.
But he didn’t know what she felt. He thought, on some whim of all whims, some insane gamble, that maybe he’d have some sort of shot.
Hoped. Hoped for a shot.
So when he heard that quiet tap on his door; his heart lunged in his chest,

The handle clicked open and she entered.
He swallowed.
“So; this is…new” she said, her lashes fluttering as she brushed her hair back.
God, she was so sexy. And she didn’t even know it.
“Look…I don’t want this to be weird” he started, his hands shaking as he smoothed his palm through his hair. It was soft and calming, and he knew he did it when his nerves were getting to him. And boy, were they getting to him.
His feet moved of his own accord; dragging him towards her like a man possessed.
“I don’t want to think I read this wrong. I don’t want to be ‘that guy’. But I think there’s something here. I hope there is” he breathed, clenching his jaw as he looked over at her “hey, tell me if I’m losing my mind. I sure feel like I am over you”.
She laughed, and the sound did something in his stomach.
“It’s not nothing” she breathed, a slight smile on her lips as she shuffled awkwardly.
He felt the growl in his chest before he heard it; a feeling overtaking him he couldn’t control.
And before he could do anything to stop himself, he crossed the distance between them, pressing her against the wall with his body; his lips crushing against her neck.

She gasped; her hands tangling at the hair at the nape of his neck. His brain went haywire, her touch stirring something that made his knees weak and his heart work twice as hard.
He could taste her perfume beneath his lips, and he nipped at the skin as his body ached. He heard her breath catch and he pushed himself closer; closer than he ever thought he could be.
He felt the tides turn and bowed his head backwards as she moved her leg up to his thigh; he grabbed it automatically, feeling the warmth against him. (y/n) crushed her lips to his; lipstick smearing against his mouth.
He loved it. Loved the taste.
Grabbing the back of her jeans he pushed her against him, hoisting her legs onto his thighs and carrying her across the room. His jeans were hot and tight and god, just not necessary right now.
He heard himself say her name, felt the smile on his lips long before she mentioned it.

He shoved the books that smattered his mattress off of his bed; they clattered to the floor with a thud as he threw her down, her hair splayed against the pillows.
She sighed as he hungrily, desperately kissed her neck again. Always finding his way back to the place her collarbone met the nape of her neck, the tender skin there sending shocks through his body.
“How do you want this to go?” he breathed, nipping at her lips as he pushed against her, needing to be as close to her as he could. He could feel the sweat plastering his white shirt to his body; tangling his dirty blonde hair with perfume and sweaty touches.
Turning him on. Setting his body alight.
“You crying out my name” she gasped, biting her lip as she closed her eyes against his touch.
He swore. He wasn’t sure whether it was out loud or in his head; he wasn’t sure if it mattered at all. 
Her hands worked at his shirt easily, throwing it to the side.
Alex Summers almost never felt self-conscious; and when she looked at him with the desire in her eyes to see him,to see every part of him, that was no exception.

He pulled off her shirt, tossing it with his own onto the floor. Kissing at the place that her bra met her skin, tracing it with his lips, his hands.
“Fuck, but you’re gorgeous” he stumbled, making easy work of her jeans as he stripped them from her legs; her skin and warmth so close to him now.
When he threw off his jeans: that was when he really felt it.
He couldn’t think. Couldn’t feel anything but this burning, burning down to the fabric of his soul. The curve of her hips, the flutter of her lashes. Burned onto his memory for months. Now made manifest under his fingertips.
Better than he ever imagined.

So when those last pieces of clothing came off in a fumble of fingers and glances; he didn’t miss a moment.
He reached into his drawer, then. Knowing what was coming. Anticipation in his throat like a wildfire. 
He was going to take his time. Show his appreciation. Know it was real, and right, and vivid.
“You’re sure?” he growled, his voice not his own.
She blinked slowly, her hands caressing his fingers as she tore the packets, lips pressed together so hard they were turning a vivid red.
“Never more sure” she whispered, and the sound made him moan with anticipation.

When he finally made his way into her; his mind blanked. Spots whirled across his vision as he bit down on his lip, tasting his own blood in his mouth. He felt his cheek against hers as he whispered her name, whispered into her ear. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying; he didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything but her, about being closer.
Closer than possible. Closer than he’d ever been to anything.
“Alex” she groaned, and he felt his self-control slipping, his pace hastening. He couldn’t help the growl that escaped him, his brow furrowing as he tried to suppress the rising noises in his throat.
God, he needed-
He knew what he needed. Needed to quench that fire.
He swallowed, taking in a gasp of warm air as his head burrowed into the pilow, his hair getting caught in his mouth.
“I love you” he whispered. It sounded stupid and crazy, but it was all he felt. All he thought.
“Alex, god, I love you too” (y/n) breathed, her lips on his chin, nails digging into his back.
That was enough to send him wild.

He felt his body stiffen; felt his body curl, his toes drawing up the quilt as he dug them into the mattress.
Hell.
He felt her cry out, her fingernails drawing lines into his skin as she breathed his name over and over, overcome with the sensation and pleasure.
With that, he couldn’t contain himself.
Hell, hell, hell.
He cried out her name, his whole body vibrating as the fire burned through him He could hear his blood in his veins, the world spinning as his vision shifted through colours and shapes. He moaned unintelligibly until there was nothing left to say; until he had nothing else to say.

They lay there for a few brief infinities, panting heavily against one another. Alex felt his whole body shaking with exhaustion, with bliss.
With love.
“That was…” Alex gasped, trying to catch his breath as he pushed himself up to look at her. Caught in his bedside lamp, her eyes glinting as she lowered her lashes; he wondered if there had ever been anyone more lovely in the whole world.
“Everything” she whispered.

Camp Mockingjay - Ch 7

Originally posted by wellroundedandpracticallyperfect

We asked, you voted… And you decided that Katniss can’t just let her best friend run off, potentially destroying their long friendship! But what’s going to happen to patient (and wet!) Peeta now? Let’s find out, shall we? Here it is, the next installment of our story, brought to you by @appleblossomgirl0305! You have 48 hours to vote on the direction of the next chapter of the story (until noon EDT on Wednesday, August 2nd). Remember: vote in the comments, not in the tags! And don’t forget to spread the word by reblogging. The more fans playing this game, the more fun it will be!


I know I need to go after Gale, to set things right between us before they get  impossibly awkward. But as I look back over at Peeta, running a hand through his wet curls and watching me from the corner of his eye while he cheers up a disappointed camper, my heart clenches almost painfully and I realize what I want.

Taking the few steps to Peeta, I say quietly, “I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah, definitely,” he responds with a tight smile. I nod, turning to go after Gale, when I hear Peeta call in a stronger voice, “Can I come by and walk you to the party?”

I nod, then turn before the giddy excitement I feel erupts on my face. 

Keep reading

You Are In Love - 270k, Chaptered

The one where there’s late night coffee runs with deep conversations, lots of frat parties with cute frat boys, TV show references, numerous social network interactions, first kisses in the rain and a slow burn love story between two unlikely people.

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose - 112k, Chaptered

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Run Away Home - 106k, Chaptered

Louis stands, in the middle of a clearing with his hands in his pockets, and stares. This boy—God, this gorgeous, gorgeous boy. He seems so clumsy, confused at the best of times, but there’s a wisdom about him as he speaks, a maturity that belies his age.

Louis is hopelessly, wildly attracted to him.

or, louis is a successful jockey down on his luck, struggling to get his life back on track after an injury. harry has a horse, a house fit for a prince, and a broken heart.

it takes them a while to figure out that they need each other.

To The Ends Of The Earth - 55k, One Shot

During a yearlong hiatus, Louis visits Harry at his cabin in Idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

Never Gonna Dance Again - 55k, One Shot

Harry is quiet for a moment and his fingers feel like they’re burning past the fabric of Louis’ jumper, branding his skin. “Can I kiss you?“

This is where Louis should walk away and leave Harry to pirouette and cambré by himself in the faint moonlight shining through the windows. He is a spy and Harry is a dancer. There are lines that should not be crossed.

Louis surges forward.

Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.

Oh Glory - 21k, One Shot

Tomlinson looks Liam over, tilting his head. “Are you a swimmer as well?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, a little cautiously. Harry wonders if it’s Tomlinson’s fame or the unimpressed eyebrow that’s making Liam wary. “Distance, I’m doing the 1500m. Harry here’s a sprinter.”

“Ah,” says Tomlinson, turning his glinting eyes back to Harry. “So you’re not an endurance man.” A beat passes, and his grin grows, wide and filthy. "Shame.”

Harry Styles is Team Great Britain’s newest swimmer, and has spent his whole life training for this moment, a chance at the gold medal in the Rio 2016 Olympics. All his training, hard work, and dedication to no distractions is tested when he’s assigned to the same Rio apartment as Louis Tomlinson, British gymnast and Harry’s childhood crush.

Naked & Proud - 18k, One Shot

The town itself is tiny, as evidenced by the ten minutes it’s taken Louis to drive the entire thing. There’s not a single recognisable brand in sight—no Tesco or McDonald’s or even a bloody Starbucks. Lining the streets instead are mom and pop stores with names like ‘Jerry’s Burgers’ and ‘The Market Basket’ and…

“'Naked & Proud?‘” Louis almost slams on the brakes at the outlandish sign, the name written in a seemingly innocent font, words curved around a large cartoon peach. He can’t help turning into the carpark, easing the car into a spot next to a beat up truck.

He isn’t sure what to make of it. Surely it isn’t a strip joint or sex shop, not with the families and little old ladies going in and out of the establishment. Some kind of nudist hangout, perhaps?

And, oh, God. Did Louis’ mother accidentally send him to live in a nudist colony?

In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

mélange | 01

fandom: monsta x
member/reader: kihyun, female, minhyuk (mentioned)
genre/warning(s): smut, slight!degradation, spanking, toys: belt
length: 2K+
summary: in which your new neighbor next door has really loud sex and so you decide to have a competition because there is no way blondie is having better sex than you.

Prologue  

Keep reading

hoodie (c.h.)

~I mean… Someone had to write this eventually, right? (it also feels sooooo good writing about my mans again.)

***Warnings: none

~MASTERLIST~

SONG: Hoodie” by Hey Violet

“Would I be an awful boyfriend if I gloated and said ‘I told you so’?“ 

 Automatically, your eyes began to roll midway through Calum’s sentence as you clutched your bare arms in a vain attempt to preserve the little body heat still flowing through your veins. Before you walked out the door, he had warned you about the possibility of the California air chilling as the sun set throughout the night. Being as stubborn and strong willed as you are, you chose fashion over practicality, opting for a sleeveless top to go with your distressed jeans. Now, with at least another 10 minutes to go in your walk back home and the sun long gone for the night, you quickly grew to regret your decision. You tried to hide your discomfort from Calum to save yourself from his nagging, but the way you pressed your body against his while nearly forcing him off the sidewalk with every step wasn’t hard to miss. 

 "Yes, yes it would. Jerk,” you mumbled with a deep sigh of self induced frustration. 

 A low chuckle rumbled in Calum’s throat as he brought the white cigarette to his slightly chapped lips once more, sticking with his habitual routine of inhaling and purposely turning his head away from you to exhale, sparing you from the smoke.

Keep reading

Tweed 

Featuring: Spencer Reid x Female Reader   

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I am bored and not ready to dive into my next fic. Thinking of adding a Saturday- Smut Shorts to my posting rotation “Smuturday”? Comment or send an ask if you would be interested in the concept.


It was the damned vest. There were some guys that got your attention because of their cologne. There were others that turned you on because they were so good with kids. You had grown resistant to your gorgeous coworkers over time. But when Spencer wore that goddamned vest, you had to excuse yourself to splash cold water on your face. It was that hot and distracting. You imagined the texture of the material, the professorial implications.

He could just wear the vest and your daydreams would be set for an entire case. The way his hair had grown and fell on to the dark material. The edges clinging to the seams, made you think about reaching up and brushing the gentle curls over, to expose his neck. Which of course the vest accented perfectly.


She was wearing the pencil skirt again. She left the matching jacket off, leaving her sleek arms bare for the humid Georgia afternoon. Spencer couldn’t concentrate when she hiked up the sides of the garment, to climb into the SUV. She had such timeless style, always professional but just a little more academic than the other women he worked with.

Spencer was scratching his neck, imagining it was her pointed nails dragging over his skin. He was not used to noticing physical attributes of people besides in a case perspective: victimology, suspect descriptions or mathematical relevant features. But when she wore that skirt with the coarse threaded fabric, he paid attention.


You had stopped for lunch after interviewing a victim’s family. It was a small diner on the outskirts of the town where you were partnering with the local sheriff’s department. You and Reid were finishing up your meal when he leaned over to reach for the check. He had turned just so that the material of the vest brushed against your arm. It scratched in such an unexpected way that you gasped. 

His dark eyes caught yours and he nodded at you. Your breath hitched, you couldn’t help but lick your lips at his hold on you. You slowly got up from the booth, walking to the bathroom in the back of the paneling covered restaurant. Spencer left everything he had in his wallet on the table and slowly followed your swaying hips.

Once you both were in the unisex cubby, you spun, attacking his mouth. Your hands clenched at the stiff fabric framing his chest, pulling him to you. His large hands found the slit of your skirt, dragging the rough fabric over your smooth thighs. He moaned once you backed onto the rail on the wall, taking his belt with your progress. He pressed his whole body against yours. He continued bending your knees as you found you could reach the opposite wall with your heels.

His fingers slid into the deep wetness of your panties, guiding the thin material over. You whined at the hunger that was growing within you. “Spencer, please.”

He opened his eyes and looked down at you, “Yes, ma’am.” He winked and suddenly his cock was pressed against your entrance.  You leaned into him, your shoulders arching against the thin walls of the stall. Your skirt’s fabric burned against your thighs and Spencer’s stomach. He braced himself against one wall, just above your head. Your fist clung to his vest along his collar bone.

The moans came without you realizing, the slapping of skin an increasing rhythm. “Fuck, you just had to, had to wear that damn vest today didn’t you?” You whispered, your voice falsetto with the rush of your climax. You glimpsed Spencer’s concentrated face crumble through your lidded eyes. He called out, thrusting as he clawed at the edges of your skirt, the thread finally giving out to the stress on the slit.

He guided your shaking legs down, as you used his arms as an anchor. He held you as if you were slow dancing. You slowly eased your skirt down, checking for damages. He fixed his trousers, bending to grab his discarded belt. “Y/N, please tell me you have another skirt like that.” His breathing slowly evening out.

“Don’t worry, Spencer, there are plenty more where this came from.”

@cherry-loves-fanfic @dontshootmespence @hotchnerfuckmeup @reidsexualwriting @reidoneshots @reiding-and-writing

birdlovesafish  asked:

If you are still taking prompts: Hangover-esque Bughead waking up in Vegas in bed together scantily clad and trying to figure out what the fuck happened last night because they barely knew each other through their friends Veronica and Archie. Smut would be lovely of course lol

Hey love! I love this one so much omg!!! 

I hope you enjoy it ;) 

ps. sorry this was written late at night and i was too lazy to edit so sorry about any mistakes…

warning: SIN, SMUT, SIN

For anyone who can’t use the “read more link” here’s the AO3 link-

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11330739

That’s What You Get for Waking Up in Vegas:

Betty awoke to the feeling of sunlight on her face and a warm body wrapped around her own. The blonde sighed contently, snuggling further into the warmth of the expensive sheets- thankyou Veronica- as her eyes fluttered open and she adjusted to her surroundings. She took a moment to take everything in, that funny feeling of disorientation seeping in as it always did when waking up in a bed that wasn’t her own…

shit.

This wasn’t her room. Not just like this wasn’t her room, in her apartment back in New York. More like this wasn’t her hotel room; the one Veronica had paid for in exchange for her bridesmaids making the trip to Vegas for her and Archie’s Bachelorette and Bachelor parties.

Betty shot up in the bed, her eyes going wide. Her head pounded with the sudden movement, causing her to grimace.

Where the hell was she?

Her now more alert eyes searched the room frantically for a sign. It came in the aforementioned warm body lying next to her.

Jughead Jones.

Okay that wasn’t too bad. She knew Jughead at least… kind of. He was Archie’s best man. They had exchanged a few emails back and forth for the planning of said parties, inherent to their duties as best man and maid of honour. But they had only met officially last night.

Betty ran a hand through her hair, eyes closing as she tried to ignore the anxiety creeping into her system and recall the events of the night before.

Nothing.

The disorientated girl let out a frustrated groan. Flopping back on the bed, trying to decipher the best course of action for this particular scenario. Funnily enough it was not something her mother had prepared her for, despite being overtly vocal about the polite and correct way to act in every situation as she was growing up. Betty rolled her eyes, briefly allowing herself to be calmed by the ironic thought.

Jughead stirred next to her, and the panic was back.

Betty held her breath, trying desperately to work out what the hell she was supposed to say to him. Would he remember how they had ended up like this?

She could taste the remnants of vodka in her mouth; well at least that explained the lack of memory.

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politicalmamaduck  asked:

Prompt smut ideas: doing it for the first time in an arranged marriage; or in the library ;p

HOW ABOUT BOTH

It’s been three weeks. Three weeks married to the man now known again as Ben Solo–though he fools no one, least of all his wife. This man is still Kylo Ren, Jedi Father Galaxy killer, and no amount of supervision and diplomacy will change that.

The old order is dead, and with it its outdated customs. That’s why Rey knows this arranged marriage is for nothing. It was an absurd proposition, and Rey feels like all they’ve done is invited the wolf in among the sheep, no wool cloak needed.

But, he hasn’t touched her. They share a room, and Rey was ready enough to fulfill her part of things. The chaste kiss at the closing of the ceremony, and the less chaste one that followed at the final raising of glasses at the reception, confirmed well enough what she’d known to be true since Kylo pulled off his mask those two years before: He was a pretty thing, and that mouth was made for kissing.

But that was all. They both moved in for the brief touching of lips that sealed them as husband and wife, and it had been Kylo that had tugged her up against his body when the cry went up and near empty glasses were raised: To a united front! To the end of war and a beginning of peace! To hope!

He had a hand resting lightly at the small of her back–for show only, surely–but the cheer surged something through him. She felt that well enough. And he wrapped that long, thick arm around her middle and dragged her up his body and kissed her. More shouts rang out at that and her wine spilled on her dress–but Rey hadn’t cared. That kiss, possessive and hot and achingly soft, that kiss was something that she liked. 

So when they returned to their room that night, and Rey’s drink-clumsied hands finally pulled her dress from her body, she was startled at his hand laid over hers as she began to work at her underclothes. Stopping her. He left the room to change and made a pathetic bed on the too-small sofa. Rey changed in front of him–because why wouldn’t she?–and climbed into their bed.

Their bed.

Where she has slept alone, for three weeks.

She is sometimes angry about this, and sometimes sad. Usually she is frustrated. Does he think her untouched? That he’s saving her from some trauma by refusing to consummate what was already forced on her? 

Well, she isn’t, and fucking a pretty thing with lips that make her shiver in their softness might be the only perk to being married off to the Scourge of the Galaxy. It’s not gallant. It’s annoying.

Which is probably why she acts before she can think when she sees him sitting alone in the sparse little library. He’s reading a book–a rare luxury in these times–and holding it with such care in those large, blunted hands. It makes her see red.

Her hand fists in his hair and she drags him up from his seat. She tugs him into the nearest aisle and tosses him against the high bookshelf. He humors her, and knocks back hard against it. She’s tall, but he’s taller. She’s strong, but he is so much stronger. 

She pokes him in the chest, not really sure what she’s going to reprimand him for. She pokes again, but no words come.

“Spit it out, wife. I was just about to finish that chapter.” Those wide eyes narrow at her and that mouth, that mouth. He pouts when he’s angry. Actually pouts. She could bite him for it.

She snarls. “I’m not your wife. Not yet, and you know it.”

Kylo laughs at her. “I thought you considered the old ways dead? Why do you suddenly see the need to rut to make it official?”

“I–I don’t.”

“Then let me get back to my book.” He pouts harder.

She bites him.

What comes next is what she has wanted. Dragged up that body again, like at the reception, like in her wettest of dreams. He turns and crushes her into the bookcase behind her, and she groans. He’s broad and inelegant and pulls no punches. She’d probably the only one who could withstand this without breaking in half. That makes her feel powerful.

She kisses him again, because that’s what is fueling every bit of this. The kiss that won’t leave her alone. The kiss that follows her to bed every night and leaves her wanting. Why would he kiss her like that and then not lay another finger on her? Why, other than to be cruel?

Because I’m cruel, drifts across her mind, and she bites him again. There’s so much give to those full lips.

It’s not how she thought this would finally happen, him dragging down her trousers so fast the fabric burns her skin, her hands fumbling with the fastenings of his, their mouths refusing to separate, but it is. He fucks her against a bookcase that will leave very regimented bruises down her back: a long, straight line across her shoulder blades, the middle of her back, the top of her ass. And she kisses him through it all. The rest of him is nice enough, and if she can convince him to crawl his hulking ass off the sofa and into their bed, she might explore it more thoroughly later.

But what she wants now is his lips, and she takes them. Shows him that he can’t just kiss her like that and leave her be. Rey knows the value of wreckage and her now, completely, finally husband is salvage she can work with.

The old order might be dead, its arranged marriages and truces and alliances counting for very little. But passion–the Dark that still simmers in the man coming apart between her thighs–that can be honed into a murky Grey chain Rey can wrap around her fist. 

Kylo Ren assures that, link by link, with every kiss he gives her, every kiss she takes. He may be cruel, but she is crueler, and she’s not done with him yet.

like fizzled out fireworks

pairing: marcus flint x oliver wood
setting: best friends au, summer before oliver’s sixth year
wordcount: 1852
a/n: a foray into one of my favorite au’s for flintwood


They’re stargazing on a clear summer night in the field that separates Marcus’ house from Oliver’s and he rubs his bare heels against the grass, knowing he’ll have stains on the bottom of his feet when they finally part for the night.

It’s late and quiet. He’s got the bridge of Oliver’s nose in his peripheral, and content washes over him. Normally he gets fidgety this late in the summer, the premise of school drawing ever closer a damper on the holiday spirits, but they’d flown and practiced for hours in the evening and it’s quieted his nerves.

When they go back, it’ll be another season of rivalry and biting remarks. But for now, Marcus breathes in the sweet scent of grass and broom polish, relishing how similar it is to their first summer together in little league, and every one after that.

Oliver’s voice breaks the silence. “Look,” he points towards a cluster of stars, “Didn’t we learn about that one in astronomy?”

“Probably,” Marcus rumbles, “S’ probably one of the boring ones, though.”

They’re so close that he can feel Oliver’s chuckle on his left side, but he doesn’t look over.

“What do you consider interesting, huh?”

Marcus pokes his tongue into the corner of his cheek. “I dunno. The stories, you mean?”

“Sure.” Oliver props himself up on one elbow and Marcus steels himself to avoid the warm brown gaze that he’s gotten so used to over the past few months.

He grips a handful of grass and pulls, feels the give of the roots in his palm. “I guess Eridanus is cool.”

Oliver snorts. “With the son trying to drive the sun chariot?”

Marcus can feel Oliver’s gaze on his face. “Yeah, that one.”

“You have weird taste.”

“Sure.”

Oliver lets himself fall back onto his back, shifting restlessly to get comfortable again, and Marcus watches the faint spiraling of the stars. He wonders if he’s imagining the movement, wonders if he’s imagining how Oliver seems to be just the slightest smidgen closer.

Maybe it’s better that they don’t really have the space for this, for these moments, at school. Marcus doesn’t think he could take that much of Oliver in one bout. He’s sure he’d drown too quickly.

Keep reading

these second degree burns
have yet to fabricate this
diseased loneliness, I
keep my wishes out of
sight, for I know some
days there may only
be tears buying a
lifeline at the end of
your eyes & breathing
is the draining of
every tsunami born
in winter vying for
exfoliating words;
the song may be
over

but we’re still dancing

every poem is a
confessional I’ve
burned for another
prayer, but darling,
you’re the love in

every letter

By Your Side (Peter Parker x Tony Stark’s daughter!reader)

Happy Friday! I just want to say that even when my days are bad, it makes me feel so much happier to reply to you guys, you’re all amazing. Much love 💗 I hope your day goes well and that maybe you find a lucky penny. Remember, Smut Saturday is tomorrow! I got a pretty good request from an anon a while back that I was saving for this. Also, taglist is open. xoxo

Request:  Can I make a Tony x daughter x peter Parker request? Stark is enrolling her in the high school but she’s extremely shy and nervous. She ends up crying her eyes out cause it’s a new school for her and she doesn’t make friends easy. So he gets Peter to make her feel welcome. Even though peter is in a higher grade he ends up being best friends with her and very protective.

Warnings: Again, just one curse word. 

MASTERLIST


“Come on, F/N, you’re going to be late.” Tony was yelling up the stairs, beckoning you to come down. 

“Why can’t I just be home schooled?” You groaned as your slipped on your shoes and threw your backpack over your shoulder, trudging down the stairs. 

“Because, you need to have friends and keeping you here could put you in lots of danger. You’re an easy target if you’re here all the time.” He tilted his head towards at you, raising his eyebrows. “Now, come on. We gotta get you to school.” 


You were the daughter of Tony Stark, the Iron Man, but only people who ever bothered to talk to you actually knew that. You were the total opposite of him. He was witty and charismatic, while you were shy and soft spoken. You didn’t like attention, you would rather keep to yourself and blast music rather than going out to party. 

“Have fun, okay kiddo?” You nodded, opening the car door. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, dad.” You waved, turning towards the school doors. You made your way up the stairs, the loud hum of his car’s engine fading into the distance. “Well, here goes nothing.” 

You went to the office to pick up your schedule, your first class being chemistry. After wandering aimlessly around the halls, you finally found the classroom. You were mortified as every pair of eyes in the room snapped to you as you stepped through the threshold. You gulped as the teacher greeted you, a nervous smile quickly flashing on your face. Today they were doing a lab to make pennies look silver and gold. The teacher had told everyone to be careful with the liquid, for it you spilled it on your clothes, it would burn holes right through it. 

It seemed like everyone already had partners, so you worked alone. You felt like there was always a pair of eyes on your back. Your hands were shaking out of nervousness, and you spilled the liquid out of the beaker. It ran down the counter and made contact with your shirt, the smell and sound of burning fabric filling your senses. 

“Shit…” You looked up to see everyone snickering at you, whispering between each other. Your eyes flickered from person to person, seeing the same thing from each of them. Tears began to fill your eyes and cloud your vision as you ran out of the room. You found a pair of doors that led out to the stadium and jogged your way over to them, wiping away tears. You kept your head down as you went underneath the bleachers, pulling your knees up to your chest, the grass feeling cool through your jeans. You buried your head in your folded arms, letting the tears fall. You pulled out your phone from your pocket, dialing you dad. 

“Hey, kiddo. How’s school going?” You could hear the hope in his voice, he wanted you to be happy. 

“I can’t, dad. I need to go home. I need you to pick me up. I can’t, I’m too shy.” You choked on little sobs, trying to make you words as understandable as possible. 

“F/N… what happened?” 

“I-I messed up in chemistry and I was all by myself and everyone started laughing at me. Dad, I’m not like you. I’m not outgoing and liked by everyone. I’m that girl in the corner that nobody wants to talk to. Just please, please pick me up. I want to go home.” You pleaded, you couldn’t stay here.

“Okay… I’ll be there soon. I’ll tell you when I get there. I love you, kiddo.” You could hear the sadness and pity in his voice. He hung up the phone, and you stayed there, waiting and huddled under the bleachers. 

A couple minutes later, you heard footsteps approaching and you froze. You quickly wiped away any stray tears, hoping they wouldn’t be able to tell that you had been crying if they discovered you. 

“F/N? Where are you?” Peter Parker was peering around, whisper yelling as he scanned the area. 

“Peter?” You were surprised to see him here, let alone see him here looking for you. 

“Hey, are you okay? What happened?” His eyebrows were stitched together with worry, his voice filled with concern. You didn’t have to say anything besides hold your the front of you shirt, showing him the gaping hole. “Oh.. Here, put on my jacket.” He stripped it off and handed it to you. “I’ll turn around so you can change. I promise I won’t look.” He turned away from you as you quickly threw off your burned shirt and zipped his jacket on. 

“Alright..” He turned around, offering his hand to you. You took it and he helped you off the ground. You stared at the ground, not meeting his gaze. “Hey, you’re going to be okay. I’m going to be here for you. Whenever you need me, I’ll be right there. And I’m going to show those punks in your class that laughing at you was a big mistake.” You chuckled softly, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a smirk. 

“Thanks, Peter. But, I didn’t think you’d want to be seen with a sophomore when you’re a senior, let alone that sophomore being me.” You fumbled with the sleeves of his jacket, shrugging your shoulders. 

“You must be kidding. You’re the nicest person I know, and I’m not just saying that because your dad is Tony Stark.” He nudged his shoulder lightly against yours, earning a light laugh from you. Your phone chimed. 

“Speaking of him, he’s here to pick me up.” You gave him a soft smile and began to walk away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter. Thanks again.”

“No problem, F/N. And, keep the jacket, yeah?” He gave you a small smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. You gave him a small nod, walking towards the parking lot. 

Everything was going to be okay, Peter made you feel okay. 


You finished the remainder of the year with Peter at your side, finally feeling like you fitted in somewhere. You felt like you belonged. He introduced you to his friends, and he always offered to hang out. He had become one of your best friends, and he always would be. As you watched him walk across the stage at graduation, you gave him a big smile and a thumbs up. He formed his hands into a heart, giving you a wink. He was like a big brother to you now, and he made it okay. Even though he wouldn’t be there for the last two years of your time in high school, you knew that he would always be there. You knew that it was all going to be okay. 


How’d you like it? It’s a quick, cute little one shot. I’m trying to get back on track and write as much as my brain lets me, and hopefully that starts this weekend. I love you all and have an awesome Friday. xoxo

TAGLIST IS OPEN. 

Taglist:

@mcfuccfairy @fandomlover2001 @elegantnightmareshiro@buckysplumfondler@arabellaaurorabarnes @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes@badassbaker @life-is-fuucked

Sidney Crosby- Late night

Request:  If your requests are open, can I request a sid crosby smut? Where you’re staying at the same hotel as the team and you’re a fan and you meet him and then you guys end up hanging out/talking and are hitting it off so then he kisses you then you guys go to his room and have sex? If it could be detailed too that’d be awesome, I hope you can do it but if not that’s totally okay :) thanks so much!!

Author’s note: I am so sorry this is so late but I hope you enjoy it either way! I sadly had to cut it off shorter than I planned due to it being 2:30 am and I need to sleep lol. 

Warnings: dirty? Sex

Up next: Tyler Seguin (of course lol)

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