i want sequel

Blue Silk Pajamas

Have another stereotypical Marichat kiss scene, dang these are addicting to read and write.

They’re 18 in this one though, I don’t think those kids should be sneaking around kissing each other in the dark yet. XD

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  • every chief before moana: let me use a nice flat rock so the next chief has an easy time stacking theirs
  • moana: imma use a pointy uneven shell lol suck it next chief
Holster Has Made Out With Everyone 13) Senior Year: Ransom

This is the last installment! Thanks for reading.


“I think you two should make out,” says March.

This is clearly an intervention. April is here, and Bitty perched in a corner of the locker room clutching a tray of mini-pies and looking embarrassed for everybody. Lardo brought her fucking gavel. There is a laptop in the corner, and Holster’s pretty sure someone is going to suggest Skyping Shitty any minute. Chowder’s supportive smile is already looking strained.

The only people in the room that Holster isn’t mad at right now are Nursey and Dex who are ignoring the stupidest ever session of Samwell Men’s Hockey Court to grope each other behind the We Support You Both banner.

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2

“I don’t need to jump off a building to feel I’m alive. I can get that playing with a puppy. ”                                                                                                                                                            - Norman Reedus

Jillian Holtzmann is that tiny person in movies that has an absurd amount of weapons hidden around her body that she has to pull out when she’s going through a security check or something and the guard taking them just keeps giving her looks so she just keeps pulling out more and more ridiculously big proton guns and various lethal devices and then, at the end, she takes out a single tiny knife and places it delicately atop her mountain of other stuff.

Tears On Our Tongues

The ride home after the woods

A SnowBaz fic for the Carry On Countdown


Simon

When we get back to the car, we both sit in an extremely awkward silence.  Neither of us seems to know what to do.  After all, that was possibly the most pivotal moment of both of our lives.  Where do we go from here.?

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.

           When I turn to nervously look at Baz, he’s staring straight ahead, his jaw set and his brow heavy.  He’s gripping the steering wheel with both hands, but doesn’t make a move to actually start the car.  Rain is beginning to dot the windshield, and I can see my own breath whisper into the air.

           Baz is so tense, like he’s only just fully realizing what has happened.

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.  His lips on mine.

           “Um,” I murmur, breaking the silence, “do you want me to drive?”

           He blinks like he’s snapped out of a daze and takes a breath.  “No,” he says without looking at me, “it’s fine.”  He turns the key in the ignition, and I notice his hands shaking.

           “Baz,” I reach out and touch his arm without thinking. “I’d really prefer if I drove.”

           He doesn’t flinch at my touch like I expect him to.  He just stares at my hand on his skin with an odd expression, like he’s trying to figure out something complicated.  Like he’s thinking how did that get there?

           It’s not looking like he’s going to move, so I open my door and walk around to the driver’s side, and only then does he actually get out of the car.  He doesn’t look at me as he passes, barely brushing me with his coat on the way.

           When we’re both in our seats, I start the car and turn us around, heading back the way we came.  I turn on the heat because it’s freezing in here, but not the music. As much as I want to break the silence, I can’t ignore the fact that this isn’t just the normal we-kissed-what-now kind of awkward.  This is the you-almost-killed-yourself-and-as-a-result-we-kissed kind of awkward, which is slightly heavier than the normal awkward.

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.  His lips on mine.  Tears on our tongues.

           I sneak a glance at him.  He gazes at the window.  Not out, just at.  

           “You okay?”  I know it’s a stupid question, of course he’s not, but I have to ask.

           He shrugs and very slightly shakes his head.

           “I know it sounds dumb,” I say quietly, “but it’ll be alright.  You’ll be okay.”

           He doesn’t look at me.  I’m starting to wonder if he ever will again.

Baz

I nearly killed us. I nearly sent us both up in flames and then had him against a tree snogging the life out of him.  And here he is asking if I’m okay.

           Point for him though, because I’m not.  Of course not.

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.  His lips on mine.  Tears on our tongues.  His mouth, so full of heat.

           I’m not okay, and now I’ve let him see in graphic detail exactly how not-okay I am.  I could not have made myself more vulnerable in front of him, and the thought makes me want to curl into a ball, erase the whole thing, make it never happen.

           Except for the kissing.  That part can stay.

           Even though I have no idea if he meant it.  It might have been a final attempt to pull me out of my suicidal funk.  Even the kisses after the fire was out were probably just pity kisses, albeit very desperate pity kisses.

           “Baz,” he says quietly, and I feel him glance at me, “how long… um, how long had you wanted… that?”

           “Forever.”  It comes out without a thought.

           “Oh.”

           “Since fifth year.”  Both are true.

           Simon thinks for a moment.  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

           “You had enough reason to hate me.”

           “I don’t hate you.”

           “You did.”

           “I always thought you hated me.”

           “I did,” I nod, “until I loved you.”  His head whips to face me and I scrunch my eyes shut.  I can’t believe I just said that.  “Until I didn’t hate you anymore,” I try to fix it, but I know it’s too late.  It’s out, it’s in the air between us, and it’s going to stay there forever, taunting me with how he’ll never say it back.

           “Baz -”

           “Please,” I grit through my teeth, a tear squeezing out of my eye, “I can’t.”  The tear makes its way down my cheek until it drips into my mouth, and the taste is like Simon.  I will probably forever associate the taste of tears with kissing Simon.

           “Okay,” he whispers, and we’re quiet for the rest of the drive.  I try to keep my sobs silent, but I’m sure he’s hearing them,

           I could have killed him.  If he’d died, it would have been my fault.

           Tears on our tongues.

           When we finally pull into my driveway, I climb out of the car as soon as we’ve stopped.  I hear him call after me, but I don’t pause.  I slam the car door and start stalking towards the house.  It’s so over for me.  I thought I was ready to die in the woods?  I hadn’t been kissed by the boy I love who will never love me. How am I supposed to live with that?

           His footsteps on the driveway are quick like he’s running after me.  I keep moving, tears blurring my vision.

           He catches up to me at the doorstep, throwing himself between me and the door, blocking my entry.

           “Get out of the way, Snow,” I mutter, looking down. We’re under the porch light now, he’ll be able to see what a mess I am, and I can’t look at his expression.

           “Baz, please.”

           “Please what?” I snap.  “What do you want?”

           I make the mistake of glancing at his face and I find tears running down his cheeks.

           “I want you to know that you’ll be okay,” he sobs, “and that I want you to be okay.”

           “I nearly killed you, Snow,” I say, shuddering, “how can you possibly want me to be okay?”

           Lips and tears and heat and fire.  His lips on mine.  Tears on our tongues.  His mouth, so full of heat.  Flames licking at my vision.

           “You wouldn’t have,” he shakes his head, “you were going to spell me away, and for some reason, that’s more upsetting than if you’d tried to kill both of us.”

           “What makes you think I would have saved you?”

           “It was in your eyes.”

           Right now his eyes are full of something I don’t recognize.

           He takes my hand tentatively.  “I need you to know something,” he tells me through his sobs, “because you probably think that it was a sympathy kiss.”

           That’s exactly what I’m thinking.

           “Please never think that.  Never think that the first kiss, or any kisses after that were out of sympathy.  I kissed you because I wanted to, a lot more than I realized.”  He sniffles, his eyes pleading.  “I’d kiss you again right now, and tomorrow morning, and every day after that and none of it would be out of sympathy, and I need you to understand that.”

           I’m shaking like a leaf.  Because I’m tense, because I’m cold, because I’m in some kind of shock, because of Simon’s words.

           “You’d kiss me again?” I choke, unable to believe what I’m hearing.

           He goes pink and he’s smiling and crying and laughing all at once, and I finally recognize what’s in his eyes because it’s exactly the same thing as what’s in mine.

           He doesn’t answer with words.  He stands on tiptoe and takes me by the lapels of my ruined suit, pressing his mouth into mine and it fits like we’ve been doing this forever, like it’s second nature.  His lips taste like tears again and I’m certain that the taste of tears will always be bittersweet to me now, a reminder that no matter how bad it gets, Simon Snow kissed me because he wanted to.

           And he would again.  He is right now.

           And he would tomorrow morning, and every day after that.

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: the man of uncle bombed in the box office it has a total estimated budget of $120M and total gross is only at $100M and that means warner bros will most likely not do a sequel which sucks because the movie was great i mean not award-winning great but greatly enjoyable with great characters that break stereotypes and cliches especially in the spy movie genre and among other things, there is a bpd character, the female characters are strong badasses in their own right, and the two top male spies from russia and us have a serious debate about fashion designers like nothing. it is not the thing that will be an iconic fave or cult classic because it was not meant to be one. it is a simple enjoyable ride, the kind that you want to ride over and over again and tell everyone about because it's THAT fun. it's very satisfying but also very unsatisfying because it will leave you wanting to see 5 more movies with those characters, in that guy ritchie cinematic style but you will cry because it is severely underrated and ignored and because of that you won't get the extra five movies you so deeply need.

*Christopher Paolini says he will write another Eragon Book*

*Where he will reveal the backstory of Angela*

*Jokes about Angela being a Time Lord*

*He will also explain what the Menoa tree took from Eragon*

*Talks about the possibility of a comic book for Eragon*

*There will probably be a new cycle*

adore you (you're lovely)

ADORE YOU (YOU’RE LOVELY) — and i adore you, too. i’ve been thinking that your love is kind of special. you should know that i adore you, too! ( adore you, nao ft. abhi//dijon )

REQUEST — the reader used to be ugly and archie bullied you. then, after summer break, you totally glo up and are now super hot, and he apologizes.

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

NOTES — i did tweak this request a little bit, simply because i don’t see riverdale!archie being a bully—i think it’s even a little ooc for comics!archie—so i opted for archie sort of ignoring the reader. also, i refrained from specifying a gender since there wasn’t one mentioned in the request. thank you so much for trusting me to write your idea, and i hope this was fluffy enough for you. i felt like it would be kinda rushed to make them kiss in this? i don’t know, but enjoy. ( requests: open )

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5

Borderlands Appreciation Month → [BTPS] Day 15: Favorite Vault Hunter

“Something something hero stuff. Something something I’m attractive.”

Idiot

[id-ee-uh t]

Noun

1. Informal. An utterly foolish or senseless person

Adverb

2. Informal. Arthur Kirkland’s unique way of expressing conformation. See the word: yes.

<< Previously searched for: Maybe


“Artie, baby! It’s been too long!”

It had only been a few days since she’d seen Arthur, but Mrs. Jones liked to make a fuss. 

To Alfred, however, it had been long. What with exams coming up, Arthur did what he usually did- spent wasted hours squinting down at the words in his textbooks, locked away from any human interaction in his bedroom. The only explanation Alfred would receive was that an omega had to work harder to get into college. He supposed that was true, but it was hard to say that Arthur was even studying in the first place. 

He never really did like human interaction, and lately, he’d been conjuring excuses left and right for the sole purpose of not hanging out with Alfred. It was likely that the whole studying thing could’ve just been a complicated ruse, an excuse, something not a total surprise coming from the crafty little omega. 

Alfred rolled his eyes as his mother scooped Arthur up into her arms, peppering his face with wet kisses. “You’ve got to come sleep over soon. Alfred’s fussy, he’s always complaining about how cold the bed is without you!”

“Is that so?”

Arthur was smirking at him now, and it shouldn’t have bothered him. But considering the circumstances-

Alfred’s red-faced response was through gritted teeth, “Mom-” 

His mother, like every mother of a semi-attractive, popular alpha, was rather embarrassing. Not to the extent that the embarrassing-ness would only appear in the occasional campfire story, but rather more so. Her embarrassing-ness was something of a usual thing, more open to the public. 

She always chose the worst times, whether it was laughing at wine-mom memes at a funeral, or, in their case now, sharing a bit too much information in the midst of people that would’ve been better off without it. 

To take as an example, Alfred’s girlfriend. 

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Falling - Unknown/MC College AU Fluff Fanfic

The higher you build walls around your heart, the harder you fall when someone tears them down.
—Anonymous

Sooo… I got very distracted while trying to write the last chapter of EP and… wrote two Unknown fics instead? The first one is unfinished, and the other one is this, a strange college AU lol. I’d actually like to do more with this setting if I get time…

Warning: Spoilers concerning Unknown & Seven’s route below

Summary: College AU where Saeran and Saeyoung are roommates both studying computer science and MC lives on the same floor. 13+ total fluff lol. Spoilers if you haven’t played Seven’s route yet (if you couldn’t already tell whoops).


“Saeyoung’s not here,” Saeran tells the girl standing in the doorway of the dorm room he shares with his brother.

“I… know,” she says, shifting her weight. “I wanted to talk to you, actually. Do you mind if I come in?”

A little confused, he opens the door wider to let her in and then closes it behind her. Usually she brings her laptop with her and sits on the floor by Saeyoung’s bed to go over assignments and concepts she doesn’t understand, but today she hasn’t brought anything and instead perches on the edge of Saeran’s bed beside his laptop.

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archiveofourown.org
Gravity - Fahye - Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Illustrated
Series: Part 2 of Yuri!!! in Space
Summary:

His Grace the Archduke Yuri Plisetsky wins the Ballistic Grand Tournament in his debut year, at the age of fifteen.

Things go downhill from there.