melt pools

Mini Protection Vial

For @apollog-y.

This is an all-around protection spell, but it can be modified with intent to specific situations. It can be applied to yourself, another person, or an entire household.

Needed:

  • a tiny vial with a cork
  • sea salt
  • black pepper / peppercorns
  • onion powder
  • basil
  • crumbled bay leaves
  • cinnamon
  • rosemary
  • two tealights (optional)
  • a taglock (optional)

Prep for spellwork in any way you wish or normally do.

If you would like, cleanse the vial, but it isn’t necessary.

If you are using the candles, light them now. 

Layer equal amounts of each ingredient in the vial, in the following order: sea salt, black pepper / peppercorns, cinnamon, onion powder, crumbled bay leaves, basil, rosemary.

As you add each ingredient, focus on your intent, and what you wish the herb to do for you. Do your best to feel the energy of each herb. Feel free to channel your own energy into the herbs to amplify them, continuing to focus on your desire to be safe.

If you wish to be protected from a certain scenario / person / etc., keep that in mind as you are channeling.

Out loud, or in your head, request the assistance of the herb’s energy to keep you protected. 

If you are doing the spell for a house, specify that you would like the entire area protected. If you are doing this spell for a friend, specify them by name and request the energies be directed toward them.

If you wish to use a taglock (either for yourself or for a friend), place it in the vial at the end, after all the other ingredients have been layered.

Close the vial.

If you used the candles, wait until enough wax has melted and pooled, and dip the cork / top of the vial into the wax, to seal it. You can find a tutorial for this by @witchy-woman [here].

Carry it on your person when you wish to feel its energies upon you.

If the spell is for a household, keep it in a central room if you can; otherwise, anywhere the vial will be kept safely is fine. If you are performing this spell for a friend, give the vial to them if you can.

3

The Signs as Types of Fairies pt. 4 (Water)

Cancer - Dryad
Dryads are female nature fairies who live in forests and trees, preferably oak trees. They are very shy and afraid of getting too far away from their inhabited tree. Every tree is connected to the Dryad’s spirit  which is why some trees appear creepy while others look peaceful. When the tree dies, the fairy will die with it. Dryads are very playful and non-violent which is why you will never see them hurting animals or humans.

Scorpio - Adhene (Manx Fairy, Cloanny Moyrn Fairy)
In many folklore or legends, Adhenes are fallen angels, banned from heaven but too good for hell. They are very shy, usually female fairies who love to play in waterfalls or dance on mountain tops. They look beautiful, even angelic but behave very mischievous when it comes to humans, stealing women and children when they wish. But they could never truly hurt someone because it is believed that their truest intentions are purely good.

Pisces - Asrai
Asrais are aquatic fairies that can either look like beautiful young maidens or children. In fact, they are hundreds of years old but only few humans will ever see them because they are very shy and constantly afraid of being captured. If an Asrai is caught or touches the sunlight, it will die, melting off into a pool of water. It seldom happens that people cross paths with this creatures but if they are touched by Asrais, they will forever have a body part colder than the rest of their bodies.

Romanticise Your Eye Colour

Romanticise those deep brown eyes that resemble a pool of melted chocolate and make others feel warm inside
Romanticise those intense grey eyes that mimic the calm before the storm
Romanticise those lush green eyes that mirror the wonders of the forest
Romanticise those icy blue eyes that captivate others at first glance and reminds them of the magic that arrives with the cold frosty air
Romanticise those dual tone hazel eyes that leave others breathless once the sun catches your eyes

100 Magic Items for 5e Pt. 7

Past Posts

Items 1 - 5

Items 6 - 10

Items 11 - 15

Items 16 - 20

Items 21 - 25

Items 26 - 30

Items 36 - 40

Items 41 - 45

Items 46 - 50

31.      Rezden’s Acid Armour

Armour (Breastplate), Very Rare, Requires Attunement

This plate appears to be corroded and rusted in spots, and no matter how often its scoured it always smells faintly like vomit. Despite its ruined appearance it grants the wearer +1 additional AC, as well as resistance to acid and poison damage. As a reaction, the player attuned to this armour can avoid a melee attack targeting it, by melting into a pool of acid 5 ft by 5 ft. The player can then move up to half their movement speed without provoking opportunity attacks.

32.      Bridle of Animal Speed

Wondrous Item, Uncommon

A bit and bridle made of supple fine dark brown leather. When worn by an animal, that animal ignores all difficult terrain, and gains +10 movement speed.

33.      Udar’s Vine Mail

Armour (+1 Chain Mail), Legendary, Requires Attunement by a Druid

Mail armour made from linked vines infused with the blessings of Archdruids from generations past, The method of forging plant matter into battle ready materials is an art lost with the death of the Elven Archdruid Udar. While attuned and wearing this armour, the player may take on the spirit of an animal in the heat of combat. You may only take a spirit, switch spirits or end a spirit once per round as an action, bonus action or reaction.

Fury of the Lion – You tap into your predatory instincts, as the desire to kill becomes your main priority you feel your prowess as a predator strengthen - attacks dealt gain +2 to damage and attack rolls. If your attack passes the creatures AC by 5 or more, the creature must succeed a STR saving throw or be knocked prone. (Saving Throw = 8+ATK MOD+PROF)

Guile of the Serpent – You become agile and limber – now aware of your enemies openings and weaknesses in combat. You gain 10 feet of base movement speed while in this form, in addition when you take the attack action, you can make a second attack.

Will of the Turtle – Your skin becomes hardened, taking on a plate like appearance. While in the form of this spirit you gain +1 AC, additionally at the end of your turn you gain an amount of temporary HP equal to half your druid level + 1 to a max of 20 temporary HP. You lose these temporary hit points when you end Will of the Turtle.

Mind of the Owl – The magic of ancients before you flow through your veins enhancing your magical abilities. While in this form you gain +2 Wisdom to a maximum of 24.

34.      Storm Mover

Weapon (Longsword), Very Rare, Requires Attunement

A castle forged longsword, with a cross guard and hilt made of blue steel. Every successful melee attack deals an additional 1d6 lightning damage to the target. Once per turn, If the attacker chooses, a bolt of lightning will fracture from the target, and hit an enemy within 15 feet of the target dealing 1d8 lightning damage. The attuned player can travel through this bolt of lightning as a reaction, landing in a spot within 5 ft of the player on the receiving end of the lightning bolt.

35.      Tyr’s Might

Weapon (Warhammer), Legendary, Requires Attunement by a Lawful Paladin

This warhammer was crafted by Tyr himself to give to one of his planetars, Hustace. Who single-handedly drove the demonic forces of Geryon back to the 5th layer of the Nine Hells after an attempt on the material plane. This Warhammer gains 1d4 charges with a max of 4 charges, every morning when the sun makes its first appearance. A player may expend a charge to increase the damage of a divine smite attack by 1d8. Additionally if a fiend is within 30 ft of the player attuned to this weapon – their AC is reduced by 2.

Welp. Ended up doodling this little cinnamon roll instead of doing my overflowing mountain of HW
fuuuuuck me :’)
but anyway

a hint of Gramander because again, I’ve fallen into another fandom pit and I just can’t seem to claw my way out

but I thought I’d maybe write something for it
please don’t judge though, I’m pretty shit at writing and I’ve never done it before so here goes nothing
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Keep reading

Motivated by command, caps, or curiosity, each companion found their own reason to investigate the vault that loomed over the ruins of Sanctuary Hills. The gear-shaped platform screeched as old mechanisms carried it deep under the earth, to a vault entrance still mostly untouched by time. Rusted, yes, with a few bullet holes here and there, but it still reeked of the Old World.

Passing through hallways full of overgrown roaches and grinning skeletons, the silence seemed eerie. Oppressive, even, the unnatural hush from being so far below the surface sending a shiver up the companion’s spine. Past a still-sparking engine, they found rows of frosted pods, the bodies within them a pale blue, and their eyes dull and lifeless.

The companion stopped at the far end of the pods, peering through the plastic window at the young figure within. They fiddled with the control panel just beside the pod, and the adolescent tumbled out.


Cait: She jumped back, breathing curses and jerking her fists up over her chest. “Whattaefuck.” There weren’t enough Pre-War valuables in the world to make this creepy feckin’ Vault worth the trouble. As Sole lay frozen on the floor, the brawler paced, debating whether or not to make a run for it while she still could. Then, she met Sole’s eyes as they feebly lifted their head. A shiver went down her back. “God damn,” she swore, inwardly berating herself for what she was about to do. With a sigh, she knelt down, and extended a hesitant hand. “Y’alright?”

Codsworth: “My word.” His claws flew up over his torso in a human-like gesture, jets propelling him back with a swell of hot air. The warmth from his engine made Sole melt faster than normal, the teen coughing and shuddering back to consciousness. “Are you all right? Are you… Sole?” The lenses of his eyestalks widen. “Er, Mx. Sole, I-I mean. I- Oh, dear.” He flutters, waving his claws, finally settling on hovering low beside the teen and letting his jets warm them, one claw rested on their shoulder for comfort.

Curie: Without Sole’s intervention, she’s still a Miss Nanny bot, locked deep within her own Vault. But, through a stroke of luck, her terminal manages to connect to Vault 111, to patch into the security cameras still overlooking the room of cryogenic pods. She sees Sole’s face, sees the way they stare out the window of their pod, and wonders. Wonders why Vault-Tec would run such experiments on children. Wonders if she’ll ever get to meet them.

Danse: As his team goes through the room, the Paladin opens Sole’s pod and catches them as they fall into his arms. Life support on all the other pods had failed, so he’s surprised when Sole starts shivering and stuttering. “We have a live civilian!” he calls, when Sole coughs and gasps for breath. “I want heat packs and fresh clothes. On the double.” He hands them off to the Scribe, letting them be ushered away and taken above ground. Of all the Pre-War relics he’s recovered, a living child may be his most fascinating find.

Deacon: For a Vault supposedly interfered with by the Institute, this place sure was barren. When he came to Sole’s pod and pressed his fingers to their neck to check for life signs, his mouth felt open as a faint pulse drummed against his fingertips “Whoa, kiddo,” he said, helping ease the teenager from the pod when they lurched forward. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around their shoulders. “Take it easy.” He kept rubbing the kid’s shoulders to try and comfort them, since for the first time in so many years, he had no idea what to say. 

Dogmeat: Paired up with a scavver trying to loot the Vault, the dog protected the teenager when they fell from their pod and hit the ground. Dogmeat’s current master wanted to harm the kid, the canine could tell, but this human seemed good. Dogmeat could tell a human in need when he smelled one.

Hancock: He had to be high. He had to be. The ghoul stared blankly at the defrosting kid at his feet, taking mental stock of the amount of chems he’d consumed that day. When they breathed a weak plea for help, Hancock shook his head clear, and knelt down to help them to their feet. A smoothskin vault dweller, huh? Their eyes widened when they saw him, but were too weak to recoil. Since they were the only survivor here, Hancock figured they’d need a little help, and guided them out of the Vault with his arm around their shoulders.

Nick Valentine: A lead on one of Kellogg’s cases brought him to this Vault, but the last thing he was expecting was to find some Pre-War squirt, melting like an ice cube on the Vault floor. He didn’t trust them not to be an Institute plant - too many fishy things going on here. Had to take things with a grain of salt. He did his best to bust up the security cameras, brought Sole to the Overseer’s office, and interrogated them there, asking them questions and making them a cup of hot coffee to warm them up before allowing them out into the wasteland.

MacCready: Some folks wanted this Vault cleared, in case any baddies were waiting to kill whoever tried settling in the rusty neighborhood downhill. When a teenager not much younger than him started coughing for mercy as melted ice pooled around them, the merc started questioning the wisdom in taking this job. “Jesus,” he breathed. “Hey, uh, kid… who the he- heck are you?” Too bewildered to be gentle, he avoided physical contact and gave them something to eat.

Piper: A failed Vault might have made for a mediocre story. But a cryogenically preserved survivor from two centuries ago? Man. The reporter did her best to comfort the teenager, helping them into the other room and sitting them down with a towel around their shoulders, observing their appearance and actions with a critical eye. She knew an interesting character when she saw one, but  this kid didn’t seem that much older than Nat, so she stayed as friendly and comforting as possible, trying to play the role of Good Big Sister as she got some food into the teen.

Preston: While everyone else started settling Sanctuary Hills, Preston took it upon himself to investigate the spooky Vault atop the hill nearby. While he couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised when a 200-year-old teenager fell into his arms, he handled it well. “Hey, now,” he breathed, pushing their hair back and holding them in his arms. “It’s gonna be alright. You just breathe.” He even took off his thick Minuteman coat and wrapped it around them, staying by their side until he was sure they were okay.

Strong: Without getting into details, if a tribe of Super Mutants - including an unconverted Strong - got into Vault 111, with Sole at their mercy? That would not be pretty.

X6-88: Father wanted this particular ‘project’ checked up on. The synth couldn’t help but grit his teeth at the thought of the tongue-lashing he’d definitely receive when he returned to the Institute. Sighing, with Sole struggling to wake up beside him, he placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder and signaled to be teleported into the medbay. If they were awake, they were awake. Now X6 just had to deal with the consequences.

The Best Sort Of Workout

Flood warning?

You hated cardio with a burning passion. 

But you loved food and wine far too much to actually diet, so this was the compromise. 

To counteract the pizza and two bottles of wine you and your boyfriend had gotten through the previous night, you were now sweating like a pig in the middle of your apartment to a fast paced work out video. 

Spencer had been called into a work this morning, just for a quick meeting about the latest case he’d gotten back from. He’d groaned when his phone had gone off, his head obviously sore from the night before. 

Being the awesome girlfriend you were, you dragged yourself out of bed fixing him a coffee to go and the best hangover cure you knew: a bacon sandwich. He’d come out of the shower and given you a big soppy kiss when he’d seen what you’d prepared, calling you the best girlfriend ever. Well duh…. 

After he’d left you grabbed a quick shower yourself before running to the store and picking up some items you needed. After a quick tidy up, you were bored so decided that it was time to bite the bullet and get on with your exercise routine. Spencer wasn’t due back for another hour or so anyway. 

You’d changed into a purple sports bra and some cropped sports leggings, pulling your hair into a messy bun on top of your head and starting the video. 

You’d just finished the forty minute long dance work out and were starting on the stretches and the cool down part when you heard the key turning in the apartment door. Spencer must be home early. 

“Hey baby,” you called out, mirroring the image of the instructor, arms reaching high above your head. 

“Erm….What are you doing?” Spencer had seen you working out before, but you normally stuck to the treadmill and light weights that were kept in the spare room. The dance video was new. 

“New dvd I bought. It should be over in ten minutes or so.” You breathed out between stretches. 

“Okay. Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

“Water. Lots of ice please.”

You heard him rummaging in the freezer, and then the soft plunk of a glass being set down on one of the tables next to the couch. 

Spencer settled himself down on the couch, kicking his shoes off. 

“So what did they want you for at work?” You stood with your legs spread, leaning down over each leg in turn touching your ankles and feeling the muscles in your calves pulling. 

Spencer didn’t respond. 

“Spencer?” You glanced around seeing him staring at you, his jaw slack and his eyes glazed. 

“Huh?…. What?” He realised you were looking at him. 

You giggled. “What did they want you for at work.”

The dvd was now instructing you into the downward facing dog yoga pose. 

“Just some paperwork relating to………” Spencer trailed off, as you let out a groan feeling the muscles in your back stretching as you followed the instructor. 

“Are you okay?” You could see him from the position you were in, although he was upside down. He was fidgeting uncomfortably on the couch, a flush on his cheeks. 

“I’m…. I’m erm, gonna go to the bedroom until you’ve finished.“ 

You pulled yourself up from the pose slowly, reaching for the glass of water he’d bought you when you were upright again. "Why?” You bought the glass to your lips taking a long sip, feeling the condensation from the ice cold water dribble down your chin and neck, disappearing into the sports bra. 

Spencer’s eyes followed the droplets, his tongue flicking out and wetting his lips. He coughed before standing up and making a move to go to the bedroom. 

“Spencer, what’s wrong.”

He stopped in his tracks, turning to you and you could see what was wrong. His trousers had grown tighter around his groin and the flush on his cheeks darkened as he realised you’d seen. 

You smirked at him, “Really Spence? I’m all sweaty and disgusting.”

He cleared his throat again before speaking. “It’s not my fault! You’re …. You’re not wearing much, and you keep letting out little noises w-when you stretch.”

He was stuttering, embarrassed that you’d caught him out. 

“Do I? What sort of noises?” You were playing with him now, taking another sip and purposely letting more of the cold liquid run out of your mouth and down your neck to your chest. To be honest, the cold water felt amazing on your warm skin and you shuddered. 

Spencer’s eyes followed the water again as he croaked out, “The same sort of noises you make when we’re in bed together.”

Hmmmmm. 

You walked over to him, running your hand gently over his thigh, grazing his hard on through his pants and hearing him whimper. 

“Let me have a shower and maybe we can go make some of those noises together. I’m disgusting right now.”

“No, no shower. Can’t wait that long, you’re never disgusting to me anyway.” His lips crashed into yours moving frantically against your mouth, his hands quickly going to your bare waist. 

You walked him backwards until his legs hit the back of the couch again, him sitting down and you climbing on top of him, placing your glass of ice water down next to you. You reached behind you, pulling your trainers off, letting them drop to the floor. 

His mouth parted as he sucked on your bottom lip grazing it with his teeth as you tugged his tie loose, chucking it over the back of your couch before working on his buttons. 

Reid’s hands moved off your waist and you heard a clinking sound before feeling something cold, hard and moist against your neck, an ice cube from the glass. You gasped at the sharp sensation, it wasn’t unpleasant just a shock. Spencer began moving the cube over your neck, his lips leaving your mouth and following the wet trail the ice left behind. The tingle of the cold followed by his warm mouth was driving you crazy and you arched backwards in his lap, your chest pushing out as you moaned. 

When the cube reached the edge of your sports bra, Spencer pulled the fabric away letting it fall between your cleavage, the remaining ice quickly melting and pooling between your cleavage. 

“Spencer…. What are you doing?” He was fishing in the glass for another cube, a smile playing on his lips as he pressed another to your bare tummy.

“Cooling you down Y/N.”

He dragged this one down over your stomach, your muscles tensing against the cold object. When he reached the top of your leggings, he peeled them away from your skin, feeling for your underwear before pushing the ice cube down into your panties. 

You bucked and cried out as the ice cube slipped lower, the cold water quickly melting and running down past your sensitive clit. This was new but you definitely liked it. 

Spencer’s long fingers reached for your bra, gripping the edges and pulling it up and over your head, before pulling at your hair tie. You shook your hair loose, Spencer running his hands through it before reaching for the ice again. 

This time there was no gentle rubbing over the skin, he just placed it directly onto your nipple, it hardening instantly as you squealed a little. It was so cold on the sensitive flesh that it was almost painful. Spencer was watching your reactions, his own breathing growing heavy. Moving the cube to the other nipple, he quickly latched his mouth on, warming you again with his breath. 

His tongue flicked out and you ground against his lap leaning you head back, feeling the hard bulge beneath you. 

Your eyes closed as Spencer nibbled and sucked at your chest, you continuing to tug at his buttons, shoving his shirt down and off his shoulders and back. When the ice melted, he moved to the other nipple doing the same, you rasping out a moan as he bit down harder. His hands moved down your back, reaching the waist band of your leggings and slipping his thumbs in, tugging them down. 

You raised yourself off his lap so he could lower them the rest of the way but he moved you, gently pushing down and to the side so you were lying flat against the couch now. He tugged the leggings and your panties off, your underwear damp from a combination of the melted ice and your excitement. Kneeling on the couch, he lifted one of your legs, hooking it up and over the back of the couch. You actually felt slightly self conscious, you were completely naked apart from your trainer socks and the way he’d moved your leg meant that you were wide open to him. 

You could see his eyes running from your face down your body, before settling between your legs. “I wonder…..” he murmured to himself before pulling out another cube, settling the glass on the floor besides you. 

Using the new cube his traced a line from your ankle down to the tops of your thighs, following it again with his lips. By the time he reached your center, you were quivering and the cube had almost melted from your warm skin. 

You watched as he reached for another piece, a smirk on his lips. “I wonder how long this would take to melt if I…… ?”

His words trailed off and you felt him push the ice cube inside of you. Your hips lifting up in shock, you couldn’t tell if you liked the feeling or not. “Fucking hell Spencer!" 

"Does it hurt?” he was suddenly concerned. 

“No it’s just… Freezing.”

“Then let’s hope it melts quickly. Here, I’ll help.” He lowered his mouth, wiggling down on the couch to get into a better position. You heard him unzip his own pants, them falling onto the floor seconds later as he moved out of them. 

His tongue started exploring between your thighs, lapping up the melted liquid that was already seeping out of you and swiping over your hardened nub. You could see his own hand moving and from the groans coming from his throat, you knew he was stroking himself whilst his tongue stroked you. 

You gasped as he flicked out, alternating between fast little laps with just the tip of his tongue and slower longer strokes with the flat of it. Your hands gripping the sides of the couch, you looked down seeing him glance up at you, his eyes wild. He pursed his lips, sucking at your clit and then pressing his tongue hard against it, licking a line up slowly. Your leg juddered, the sensation almost making you come there and then.

“I think… I think it’s melted now,” you choked out. 

“Hold on, I’ll check.”

Your eyes widened as your felt his tongue push deep inside you, retreating and then entering you again, curling up inside you. He repeated the movement a few more times until couldn’t cope with it anymore.

You reached down pulling at his hair and tugging him up to you. 

“I need you to fuck me now Spencer.”

“I was fucking you Y/N…. Just with my mouth.” A wicked grin was on his face as he licked his lips. 

Oh my god. You pulled him down to your mouth, you tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. He shifted and seconds later, filled you with his length, groaning as you tightened around him. You scraped your nails down his back as he began to thrust, his hair falling over his forehead. 

Grabbing your hips, he moved to his knees so he was more or less upright, one of your legs still hooked over the back of the couch and your other locked around his waist. Your butt was completely off the couch down and you had no way to move back against him, choosing instead to squeeze around him every few moments. 

He reached up with his hand, tucking his hair back behind his ear and then moving it between your legs to your clit, pushing himself harder into you as he did. 

You were getting close when he leant back down over you, your ass now back on the cushion. 

Pulling him in for another kiss, you began to push back against him in time with his thrusts, now having the leverage to do so. 

His fingers working faster on your clit you felt yourself beginning to lose it, your moans coming thick and fast as you came, seeing the grin on his face as he watched you. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered, looking down into your eyes.

Your walls contracting as you orgasmed sent him over the edge and with only a few thrusts more, he came, following you by maybe half a minute at most. 

He collapsed on top of you afterwards, your skin sticking to each other, your sweat mingling. 

“Well that was a hell of a work out Dr Reid,” you chuckled out when you finally got your breath back. 

“You know, sex can burn almost as many calories as a thirty minute jog Y/N. And it’s much more fun.”

“I’ll remember that next time Spencer.” You laughed with him. 

OLYMPIAN 

shimmers of a smooth gold, pomegranate seeds fallen onto a marble floor, gleaming coins, harps playing an everlasting melody, pools of melted silver, jewels glittering against a vibrant sun, immortal memories, fountains flowing with pure water, palaces built for the heavens, the richest red wine, power vibrating with every heart beat, ichor stained skin, ancient myths and monsters reliving their once forgotten tales

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.

Breathless

Title: Breathless

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff

Warnings: Morning sex, sinful acts involving oranges, Byun Baekhyun, thin white shorts, not-so-timid erections

A/N: Inspired by the song by Shayne Ward (You should listen to it!).


Originally posted by chanyeol-ie


Byun Baekhyun awoke with what felt like eyes leaded with dust and a head full of sand. He stretched comfortably against the sheets, his soft skin melting deeper into the cotton. His tongue was laden with a tangy, unfamiliar taste. He blinked, staring past a long, pale arm to the sight of his beloved beside him, sleeping soundlessly.

He watched as your chest gently rose and fell beneath the duvet, your breasts and shoulders hidden beneath the pale sheets. Sunlight slanted through the thin curtains, giving the room an amorous, white glow. Your cheeks were warm and pink against the pillow, soft from the tranquil herbs of sleep.
Gently moving as not to wake you, Baekhyun slowly slipped from beneath the covers. His morning erection rocked expectantly against his thigh, but he ignored it, snaking across the floor with the gentle treads of a butterfly. He bent to the floor, replacing his naked legs with the familiar, silky cloth of his white pajama shorts, and listlessly shrugged on a white dress shirt, not bothering to button it closed. He escaped quickly to the bathroom where he carefully cleaned up, brushing his teeth until they gleamed a blinding, pearly white, and washed his face. When he was done, he shifted down the hall and towards the kitchen where he gathered a clean, wooden tray, a sturdy pitcher of orange juice and a food hamper from the cupboard. After pouring two glasses of orange juice and a cold jug of milk, he placed the food hamper on the counter and carefully ripped it open, removing a wrapped set of toasted muffins, four plain bagels, six slices of bread, a fresh wedge of cheese, two handfuls of grape and apples and a round, bumpy orange. He placed a sturdy, china plate in the middle and carefully glazed it with the food, keeping the orange locked in his hand. When he was done, he turned to regard it sturdily.
It was cold and stone in his hand, yet felt like it could easily melt into a pool of runny, warm juice if pinned under his gaze long enough. Shaking away any further thoughts of perplexity on trivial, piddling fruits, he fixed it calmly next to the stash of cheese and turned to pluck the slices of bread into the toaster.
While he waited, he gently garnished two of the bagels with some sweet cinnamon spread and sliced the cheese into limp, even pieces. When the toast was ready, he tossed them readily onto the tray, which he took steadily into his hands, and started out of the kitchen and back along the hall, starting to recognize the familiar taste lingering on his tongue.
Your taste.
When he returned, the bedroom was still worn with the familiar albescence of waning dawn and his erection was now fitfully jerking against his thigh. He set the tray nicely against the bedside table, careful not to make too much noise with moving things around, and bent down so he was level with your peaceful sleeping figure. Brushing a loose strand of hair from your eyes, he admired the slip of bare shoulder peeking from the heavy coat of duvet. Seeing you like that made him want to hold and protect you even more and he fretfully hoped he’d showed you that last night.
A smile tugged impatiently at his lips as you began to stir, your hair moving to splay across your neck. He knew how much you hated that and moved it slyly, carefully studying your face as you wearily came to consciousness.
You twisted your head, turning to look at him. He was beautiful—the way the white light fluidly fell around his exquisitely lean form, his shirt parted around his nude front, the smooth dips in his stomach and sharp angles of his pectorals greeting you smugly.
“Good morning, princess,” he brushed a strand of dark hair from your eyes, smiling warmly.
You giggled, almost childishly. “Shouldn’t a princess receive a kiss the moment she wakes up?”
“I thought a kiss was what woke a beautiful princess up,” he mused, leaning forward. His nose brushed yours and a blush bloomed in your cheeks. He smiled, eyes flamed with compassion, and closed his lips over yours. It was a warm, sweet kiss and you fretfully bit back a groan as his tongue gave you a wet, warm greeting. The taste of sweet fruit and tea exploded into your mouth—the taste of Byun Baekhyun. You cupped the back of his neck, tugging him closer as his tongue gently lapped against yours.
He shrugged a hand beneath the covers, skimming his fingers across your hip as he pulled from your lips. “Breakfast?”
You furrowed your eyebrows as he gestured soundlessly towards the tray on the bedside table. You smiled, suddenly aware of how unbearably hungry you were as Baekhyun took the tray into his hands and perched next to you on the bed.
“Good sleep?” He grabbed the knife from the tray with one hand, fixing a bagel on the plate with other. You nodded as he began to garnish the bagel with warm cinnamon spread, occasionally licking his thumb and fingers free of it.
“You?”
He nodded enthusiastically, and you watched as both his eyes and hands fell in concert across the blanket covering your breasts. You emitted a shaky gasp and Baekhyun’s eyes lit above his smug sneer. He gently lowered the duvet, exposing your chest. His eyes glittered as he marveled at your rounded breasts, his fingers reaching to dance over the curved rosebuds tipping the flesh. He brushed your nipples softly with his thumb, the air swirling around them becoming blissfully warm. He quietly hummed and straightened himself again, seemingly in a freshly good mood, and took the handle of the knife once more between his delicate fingers and started the blade along the edge of the orange. A blush bloomed in your cheeks as you remembered how those fingers had sinfully worked you to euphoria.
“Oops.”
You quivered as you felt a drop of wetness hit the top of your chest. You looked down to see a strip of orange-colored liquid snaking almost languidly down to your nipple. A chuckle sounded from your right, brimmed with immorality, and you turned your head to look down at him. He was grinning nefariously from the pillow, but you noticed his hands had moved. They were now tipped almost purposefully over your breasts, the juice from the knife seeping freely to your skin. He pulled the knife back and sank the tip between his lips, coaxing the tangy-flavored stickiness into his mouth. You remembered how he’d poised his lips just like that when he’d been in between your legs the night before, his eyes and tongue flickering wickedly.
He divested his mouth of the knife, driving it deep into the orange until the hilt was perfectly damp with yellow-orange liquid. His eyes roamed over your body, vigilant and watchful, and he gently plucked the knife from the base of the fruit, moving it so the flat end of the blade suspended just over your right breast. He lowered it slowly and you swallowed a gasp the moment the cold blade touched your skin. The flesh became doused with streams of bright, runny liquid and you watched as several drops swirled around the mounted bud of your nipple.
“Mmm,” he reached to gently cup the underside of your breast, his fingers dipping into the full, soft flesh. “What a mess, I’ve made. Guess I’d better clean it up.
You watched as he dipped his head forward and took your breast into his mouth, humming against you. He drew on it lightly, pulling softly, almost tentatively, at the nipple, measuring your reaction carefully.
"You’re killing me, Byun Baekhyun.” He reached up, tenderly cupping the bottom of your other breast as his lips closed around the nipple, suckling sweetly. When he was done and faintly assured all his “mess” was cleaned up, he looked up at you, flicking an excess strand of hair off your bare shoulder.
“Wouldn’t that be such a sweet death?” he murmured, lower lip grazing your nipple.
You shivered, unable to meet his eye. His breath grazed your neck and you sank your teeth into your lower lip, concealing a moan.
“Don’t be shy with me, sweetheart,” his hand ran up your bare thigh, which softened against his touch. He closed his lips around your nipple again, feeling it peak even further in his mouth. His pride seemed to swell as you finally released a soft, shrill whimper and he moved a hand down beneath the duvet to caress your hip.
“So beautiful,” he gently pecked the other breast, the nipple mounting almost immediately at his touch. He smiled, reaching out a single finger to graze the rosy bud. You shivered, sharply taking your lip between your teeth as his finger ghosted across your nipple, sending tuffs of heat swirling around in the flesh. “So sweet.” He leaned forward, drawing it into his mouth whilst reaching under the duvet to grab your thigh. He gently pulled you from under the sheets and placed you gently on his lap, paying homage to your breast all the while. You cupped the back of his head as he stared up at you, running careful fingers along your skin with one hand. You heaved the tray off his lap and leaned across his legs, planting it firmly on the bedside table. The orange juice quivered with disappointment on the wooden surface.
“Are you sure you just want to discard breakfast like this, sweetheart?” he whispered, feigning concern as he ran a hand across your stomach.
“Oh, I’m sure,” you murmured, reaching below the duvet to slip a hand inside his shorts. His face immediately darkened as your fingers folded tightly around his erection, breath catching against you. You pressed kiss after kiss against the slope of his throat, stroking surely, but hesitantly. The incoherent growls in your ear propelled and coaxed you onward as you splayed your lips against his bare pectorals, nipping gently at the arched flesh. His soft, harsh grunts turned into pants as you quickened your speed, petting him definitely.
He suddenly arched up off the bed, wrist folding tightly around your hand as he wrenched your fingers free of his erection. Perplexed, you tried to study his face to see what was the matter, but he crushed his lips against yours, breathing harshly.
“Not now, baby,” he panted, stretching a hand between your legs. “I don’t want to come yet.” He began to pet you softly, latching the skin of your neck between his lips. He sucked, not to hard, but not gently either and a dark, purplish mark fused in his lips’ wake.
You drew your lip tightly between your teeth, shamelessly beginning to slide against his fingers. A smirk formed on his face again as he watched you, panting and beginning to slightly curve against him with need. His other hand splayed gently across your ass, guiding you forward as he leaned to press an earnest kiss against your heart.
“What happened to being shy?” he breathed against the muscle beating frenetically in your chest.
“I want you too bad to care anymore,” you whispered, reaching to draw the flesh of his neck into your mouth. He stilled, a groan spilling in your ear. You remembered how he’d groaned and quaked for you last night—sex with Baekhyun was absolutely nothing less than fulfilling.
“I can’t take it anymore,” he roused, reaching to grope you by the ass. His erection was sitting expectantly between the crevice of your asscheeks, twitching slightly against your skin. “I need you.” He pressed chaste kisses against the hollow of your throat and the supple skin of your neck. “Now.”
You groaned, feeling as he rocked against you. Driven by need, you took him into your hand, pinning him right up against your entrance. Then, making sure to poise yourself straight to attention, you drew yourself down onto him with a quick, sweeping motion. He groaned, loud and fervent against your throat and you cupped the back of his neck, pressing kisses all along the crown of his head.
“God, I love you,” he whispered against your throat. “I love moving inside of you.” He leaned back against the pillow, blonde hair spilling against snowy cotton. You watched as his erection slipped in and out of you, lined with gleaming licks of wetness.
“Damn,” he rasped, reaching to pet your clit. You gasped, fighting back the urge to grab his wrist. Your stomach flamed with something tight and unbearable and as you fought it back, he began to quicken his movements, rubbing you in time to his thrusts. “Damn, you’re so wet.”
You ran your hands across his chest, mapping the surface, painting the warmth of his nipples with your fingers and coloring the flesh of his hips with your palms. He caught your waist firmly with his hands, edging you onward, bucking to meet every single roll of your hips. He was slow, yet passionate, his face a mask of free euphoria as you moved in blissful concert, his mouth slack with ecstasy, his eyes deep and loving. The twinges of the sensation seemed to swirl and jet around you, catching you in its blissful halo as you rose and dropped against him.
“Look at me,” he grated as your head began to lull back. He cupped a comforting hand around the back of your head, long, delicate fingers bringing you back to eye level. It was too much—too intense—swirling in his eyes was a hazy collection of emotions: love, affection, lust, concern. You bent forward, brushing your lips with his, but you didn’t draw them in completely, just grazing them lightly. He tugged you forward, trying to ease your mouths together, but you remained still, all the while still moving sinfully against him.
Desperation filled his eyes as he pulled at your hips in rebuttal, locking his lips together in earnest.
“Please,” he rasped, his voice hoarse and throaty, his eyes locked on yours. “Please—if anything — let me kiss you.”
You swallowed, feeling your dominant facade slowly crumbling beneath his soft gaze. You drew his lips slowly into yours, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him melting into you. He lifted up and his bare chest slid against yours, his arm folding around you. You watched, mouth aloft, eyes burning with bliss as he heatedly rocked into you, his hips pouncing from the bed with each thrust. Your head fell back, your eyes closing as pleasure wracked every inch of your body, overtaking each particle, twisting it into a tight knot of ecstasy. He held you close, his mouth planting searing spots across every space of skin. You struggled against the strong, overbearing hands of orgasm tugging freely at you, coaxing you forward into its hot, smoky depths; you wanted to hold on—you didn’t want it to end yet, you didn’t want to let Baekhyun go.
“Look at me, love.”
It was like lifting the heftiest load of lead from your eyelids: your forced open your eyes, looking down into the sea of rust-colored oblivion. His eyebrows were narrowed and nudged together, his whole face crinkled with pleasure. You could tell he was close, not just from the sound of his heavy, ragged moan, increasing in volume, but from the sharpness of his movements, the dutiful charge of his hips, the snapping of his pelvis, the tight drawing of lower lip between teeth. You arched against him, reeling and tightening, as he leaned forward, lapping and sucking at your breasts. His hands went to cup your ass, guiding and gently mapping your movements, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.
And then the knot that had been binding you tightly, concealing you from the face of pleasure, had suddenly been set loose. The world seemed to tumble around you, a blinding haze of white, brown, and orange, and at once you felt that time seemed to let go of you. You were suspended in mid-air, poised like a rocket sent to space, frozen in a period of free, scorching lust.
Something tightened again, deep in your stomach, and you finally, gloriously fell.
And then hands were slowly bringing you back to reality, grabbing and pulling you towards a wall of soft skin. Your head fell against a damp, clothed shoulder and the smooth skin of cotton seemed to slowly lull you from your daze. You felt Baekhyun’s hand gently smoothing out the curves of your back, rising and falling rapidly against his fingers. With the other hand, he carefully lifted your face, bringing you up to face him. His hair was a bright, tousled mess, blonde threads falling in loose heaps all along his temples and forehead. A trickle of sweat fell smoothly between each of his pectorals, which were rising and falling rapidly against your own chest.
God, he was beautiful.
“Are you okay?” He reached to cup your chin with the other hand, regarding you peacefully. “Y-You looked like you were about to faint. You were all flushed.”
Instead of responding, you reached forward, breathlessly splaying your lips across his, kissing him with every last ounce of energy you had. You smoothed his face with both hands, mapping your fingers across the angled curves of his cheeks, sailing the point of his chin with your thumb. He groaned against you, pulling you closer and you folded your arms tightly around his neck, never wanting to let go.
Unfortunately, he broke away.
“Gosh, that was amazing.”
You sniggered, a blush blooming in your cheeks. “We really should—have breakfast in bed more—often.”
He squeezed you tightly, smoothing the curve of your chin, drawing sensual patterns along the skin of your hip with his other hand. “Catch your breath first, sweetheart. And yes, we really should.”
You leaned forward again, dragging his lips into yours as he melted into you again, the tip of his erection probing your asscheeks. “Can I at least say one thing?”
He nodded, his hair bobbing wildly against his forehead.
“I love you.”
He smiled, his eyes sparkling with warmth. He kissed you, a nice, light peck as his hands glided along your hips. “I love you too.”
And then you were leaning into him again, drawing him inside, and with a soft, hoarse groan, the cycle started all over again.

the gang’s crush - imagine

requested by anon - (thanks for requesting! it’s dialogue heavy but i hope u like it!)
warnings: none rlly, stuff i write usually will contain cursing though

The dog days of early August had always been the absolute worst in Tulsa - both you and the gang knew that real well. Days like that, you and the boys would normally hang at the Curtises’. After all, you’d known the Curtis brothers for quite some time; you used to go to school with Soda before he dropped out and you graduated. If you weren’t at your house or the Dingo, you just happened to be with at Curtis house with the rest of the gang. This time, a lazy Saturday, your only fan had broken and you knew it’d be nothing but agony sitting in the endless heat without anyone entertaining to talk to. So you decided to haul ass over to the Curtis house in Tulsa’s 102 degree heat, grateful that their house is no more than 2 minutes away.

Wiping small beads of sweat along your hairline, you closed their house’s gate and headed up the walkway before opening both the screen door and front door - you knew they never kept it locked. 

“Anyone hom-“ you started, before catching sight of nearly all the boys languidly lounging about the living room, most of them with their eyes closed. That’s when you caught sight of Two-bit sitting in front of a fan, making noises in it so that he’d hear his voice sound funny. Well, that was Two-bit for you. “Well, look who it is, boys!” Two said into the fan in an attempt to the gang to stir.

“For cryin’ out loud, Two, would you get your head outta that fan? You’re hoggin’ all the air, man,” Soda responded, ignoring what Two had previously said, his chest gleaming with sweat.

Two-bit laughed a little bit, reluctantly getting out of the way of the fan. “Boy, you all look real glad to see Y/N!” At the mention of your name, you saw a few eyelids fly open and a few boys actually sit up. Semi-energetic ‘hello’s echoed throughout the small living room. Dally and Darry were upright in the armchairs, Steve sat on the couch with Soda and Johnny and Pony were sitting around the coffee table.

“Well, hi there, Y/N!” Soda said, getting off of the couch while Pony began furiously wiping sweat off of his face with his t-shirt. “Come an’ sit. Want somethin’ to drink? I mean, it sure is hot today.” Soda made his way to the kitchen only to find that Two had moved from sitting in front of the fan to sitting in front of the refrigerator. You sat in the spot that Soda left, a little wet with sweat, which didn’t seem to bother you.

“Looks like we got coke, water, milk and beer. Anythin’ you want, Y/N?” Two asked from the kitchen.

“Keith, if you don’t close that icebox door, I’m gonna be closin’ that icebox door on you, y’hear?” Darry called back to Two.

“Alright, alright, Dar.” Two rolled his eyes and got out from the cold, opened fridge with a beer in hand. He stood up and made his way back to the living room and popped the cap of the bottle with the edge of the coffee table.

“Get me a glass of milk, Soda,” Dally demanded, his voice gruff with what seemed like exhaustion. ((”some guys my age, man”))

“If there’s any chocolate cake left, would you grab me a slice?” Steve asked, wiping a droplet of sweat off his cheek with his shoulder.  

“Yeah, you mind gettin’ me and Johnny a bottle of co-“ Pony started, before being cut off by Soda.

“Any of your names Y/N? You all got a pair of workin’ legs now, don’t you?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure my legs work, too. I’ll get my own water, Soda. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” you responded, getting off the sofa and walking into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass, until you’re stopped by Soda.

“No, Y/N, I’ll get it. Just go on and sit,” Soda insisted, grinning at you, grabbing your shoulders and taking you back into the living room.

“No, it’s alright, Soda. I’ll pour her a glass,” Two said, pushing past Soda to get back into the kitchen’s fridge.

“C’mon, I said that I’ll pour it, Two.” Soda pushed his way back into the kitchen as well, fighting with Two to get the pitcher. Two rolled his eyes and let Soda pour the cold water out the pitcher and into the glass.

“Y’know, I was thinking, guys - we should all go do somethin’ today,” Soda announced to the gang, putting the pitcher back into the fridge and shutting its door.

“Are you outta your fuckin’ mind? Maybe the heat’s gettin’ to your brain, man,” Dal complained, rubbing his tensed eyebrows with his middle finger and thumb.

Soda had come back with the cold glass of water for you and sat on the armrest of the couch beside you. “Dally, we haven’t moved in the past three hours - we gotta do something.”

“No, Dal, Soda’s right. I could take you out for ice-cream if you’d like, Y/N,” Johnny offered, his head cocked to one side a little bit.

“We ain’t got the cash for that, Johnny. How ‘bout the pool, Y/N?” Pony suggested.

“The pool’s too far. But I think a barbecue sounds just right,” Steve butt in. “How ‘bout that, Y/N?”

“Well, how ‘bout we stay here with Y/N and just keep cool?” Darry finally said after a pretty deep sigh. Boy, you were glad that Dar had butt in. If you heard your name one more time, you thought you just might have exploded. But after weighing the opportunities, you decided that staying at the house was probably the best idea. You weren’t willing to make going outside and option, especially with the sun beating down like that.

“I gotta agree with Dally and Dar, here guys. It’s real brutal out there. The only pool we’d see today is the pool we’ll melt into, Pone,” you said, a small grin on your face about the joke you cracked. Pony seemed to find it pretty funny though what with his loud giggling.

“Although I sure wouldn’t mind seein’ you in a bikini, baby,” Dally said, looking at you with a faint smirk on his lips.

All the eyes in the room shifted to Dally who nonchalantly shrugged at their gaze. His little comment made your eyebrows furrow a little and it stopped Pony’s laughing. It wasn’t the first time Dal had said something like that, but it was almost never in front of the boys and never ‘baby’. “As if you jackasses weren’t thinkin’ the same thing.”

“C’mon, Dal, this is Y/N you’re talkin’ to. She ain’t just some broad,” Steve intervenes, clearly irritated that Dal would say something like that to you - which slightly surprised you since Steve already knew that this is just how Dally acts.

“‘Course she ain’t, Steve. Why are we all continuin’ with this charade?”

“What are you talking about, Dally?” you asked him. You didn’t have a clue as to what Dal meant. Unless he meant that the boys…

“God, Y/N, are you blind? They’re all droolin’ over you. Always have been. Told each other that no one in the gang is s’posed to go after you. Even Darry.”  

The guys are tripping over themselves for you? It took you a second to process this. All of these boys had been some of your greatest friends - and they’re drooling over you. It would explain why they’d been getting into so many arguments lately. How could have you not seen this? It all made sense, but you couldn’t believe it.

A roaring silence fell over the boys and yourself. That is, until you broke it.

“You guys…what? Is that true?”

“Well, c’mon, Y/N - is the sky blue?” Dal said.

Hinata Vs Sakura: How much their husbands care for them.

Look at the sheer anger on his face over Hinata’s well being. When’s Sasuke even shown 1/5th this much emotion to Sakura?

Naruto notes that Hinata getting attacked, NOT even killed, triggered his anger and rage, prompting him to willingly give in to Kurama. That’s powerful stuff.

Naruto’s heart skipping a beat simply over realizing Hinata, of all the people, was caught in IT, didn’t even hesitate for second to ditch Sakura and Sasuke, you know, the two people SS stans love to pretend are the only people he cares for, to go save her.

Now Sasuke

At this point in time, Sasuke isn’t even evil. Mentally, he plans on killing NO ONE but the 5 Kages, and Naruto, yet still gave zero damns about Sakura melting in a pool of lava. 

And of course we have the constant rejection of kissing and 10+ years of absence,

So much love. So much care.

Wings Are Always Pretty (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

This was a request and it’s an X-men kind of crossover, so pls enjoy.

“They’re not even wizards! What is the old man even thinking inviting them here?” Draco complained over breakfast to the whole Slytherin table, making sure that his voice carried as far as possible. 

He directed a glare at the new table set right up at the front where five of the students from Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters currently sat eating peacefully. He intensified his glare, willing one of them to turn back to acknowledge him but none of them did.

“That may be so, but they definitely aren’t muggles.” Pansy reasoned, pouring milk into her tea with a neat flourish.

“Pansy, this is the Triwizard Tournament. Not the Trimutant Tournament.” Draco raised his voice again and this time one of the mutants did turn around making Draco recoil involuntarily.

Six eyes. He’s got six eyes.

The six-eyed mutant boy gave him a scathing look before turning back to his breakfast and Draco barely managed not to flinch.

“They’re freaks I tell you, freaks!” He whisper-shouted vehemently.

“I think they’re kinda hot.” Blaise cut in, absentmindedly chewing on a pork rib. Draco choked on his food and goggled at him, lost for words.

“Really, Blaise.” Said Pansy flatly. “You think that’s hot?” She pointed her chin in the direction of a girl with abnormally fiery red hair who was currently using her very long tongue to lick her plate clean without even having to pick it up.

Blaise stared in disgusted fascination for a short moment then shrugged. “Well okay, not all of them.” He relented. “But look at that one at the end.” He gestured with his fork.

Draco’s eyes followed the utensil and came to rest on a girl.

Well he’s not wrong, he thought.

The longer he looked at her, the harder it was for him to look away. There was just something so aesthetically pleasing about her and Draco kept staring until Pansy jabbed him in the ribs, hard.

He stifled a yelp and rubbed the sore spot gingerly. “That was not necessary, Pans.” He grumbled.

Pansy grinned cheekily. “I rather think it was.”

Draco threw a croissant at her.

“Hey, you know what?” Blaise chimed in. 

“No, what.” Draco and Pansy said simultaneously.

Blaise gestured to the girl again. “Apart from being insanely attractive; don’t you guys think she looks a little- I don’t know- normal? For a mutant, I mean.”

Draco studied the girl for a moment and found that Blaise was right. While the other four mutants had obvious tells that they weren’t humans (spikes, tails, multiple eyes etc.), the girl all three of them were currently scrutinizing had a fairly human appearance.

“I bet she breathes fire.’ Blaise mused.

“Or ice.” Draco countered. 

“Maybe her power is really mild, like making plants grow.” Pansy suggested sarcastically.

“Or maybe it’s- oh shit. Abort abort abort! She’s looking our way.!” Blaise hissed as he grabbed a newspaper, shaking it open and disappearing behind it.

Draco hastily made a show of stirring his porridge while Pansy merely rolled her eyes.

“You two are really pathetic.” She told them.

Draco couldn’t agree with her more.



Draco can’t sleep. No matter what he does or what position he changes to, sleep just refuses to come. For some strange reason, he can’t stop thinking about the mutant girl. Granted she did give him and his friends a rather withering glare for all their staring that morning. There was just something about her that had managed to catch his eye. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s just something

Yep, he can’t sleep.

Quietly, so as to not wake up his dorm mates, Draco slides out of bed and puts on his slippers (yes, he wears slippers, shut up). He grabs his wand from his bedside table, stowing it carefully away in his pyjama pocket. He figures a quiet stroll around would be what he needs to get his thoughts together, so with determination, he sets out to do just that.


Who knew the castle could be so quiet? Draco was used to seeing the corridors filled and buzzing with life, but right now, just after midnight, everything was still. He likes it.

He walks around aimlessly, not exactly sure where he’s headed. That question is answered soon enough when he finds himself walking out the doors and making his way towards the quidditch pitch.

This is more like it. The breeze in his hair and clothes, the smell of grass, the moonlight glinting off of the hoops, the weirdly shaped thing sitting on the stands and the- wait

Draco backtracks. What the heck is that on the stands? He squints hard at it but he’s too far away to see what it is. For one horrible moment, he thinks it’s a Dementor but immediately let’s go of that idea. Dementor’s don’t just casually sit on stands in the middle of the night and besides, Dumbledore sent those things away ages ago.

So what is it?

Cautiously, he takes several steps in it’s direction and when it still doesn’t move he takes another. Maybe it’s sleeping, he reasons. He takes another step and a twig snaps noisily causing the creature to jump up in surprise giving Draco a clear view of it’s figure in the moonlight.

His mouth drops open.

“You have wings???”

The mutant girl eyes him up and down. “Ah, you’re one of the starers from this morning.” She recounts bluntly. “Stalking is also not cool, you know.”

“I’m not stalking you.” Draco says hotly. “I was out for a midnight stroll.”

The girl raised her eyebrow sardonically, not saying anything. She shifts her stance a little and Draco gets a good view of her wings.

They were huge. Twice the size of her body and pure white, made up of layers upon layers of soft feathers. Magnificent, really.

“See something that interests you?” The girl teases, smiling slightly.

Draco snaps out of his daze. “N-not particularly, no.”

“Well, you’re the first person to see them since I’ve come to this school, so you should feel honored.” She tells him conspiratorially, giving him an over-exaggerated wink.

Draco is horrified when he feels his cheeks heat up and quickly coughs to hide it. “W-where do they go? When we can’t see them, I mean. Do they just disappear or something?”

“Not exactly, no. How do I explain this?” She taps her chin thoughtfully, her hair falling into her eyes a little.

She has nice eyes.

 “They kind of contract back into my body, I guess. Then when I want to unfurl them they just… pop back out.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Can you fly with them?”

“Of course I can.”

“Are they soft?”

“… why don’t you feel them?”

“What, really?” He asks, surprised.

The girl narrows her eyes contemplatively but then extends one of her wings out towards him. “Go ahead.”

Draco immediately reaches out before she changes her mind. He gasps slightly when his fingers come into contact with the feathers.

“They’re really soft.” He breathes, stroking his hand over them gently.

The girl shrugs. “They’re just feathers. Feathers are supposed to be soft. You know, there’s a girl back at the academy called Trinity, and she has these awesome pitch black butterfly wings. Next to those mine aren’t even half as impressive.” She sighed, moving her wings away. Draco mourned the loss.

“I think I prefer your wings.” He stated.

The girl gives him a curious look. “Really?” She asked quizzically.

“Yeah, they make you look like an angel.” He answered. 

It takes a moment for Draco’s brain to process the words that had just left his mouth.

“Wait, no.” He backtracks. “No-not that I think you look like an angel because you don’t by the way. I’m saying you-you have angel like wings and they just…you know…” He trails off pathetically looking anywhere but at the girl. Why oh why did he have to say that out loud?

“No ones ever… called me… an angel… before…” The girl says, her voice unsteady and Draco chances a glance at her. She’s looking him with wide eyes and her cheeks are dusted with a little pink.

That’s a nice color on her.

“Wait, what. No one? No one at all?” He feels the need to clarify.

She shakes her head as if to clear it. “Everyone back at the academy calls them cockatoo wings. Have you ever met a cockatoo? I’ll tell you right now if those assholes are gonna be angels of anything, then they’re Satan’s angels from hell.” Her words are nonchalant but her tone is slightly bitter. Draco wonders if he’s hit a sore spot and decides to change the subject.

“You do know it’s past curfew, right? You’re lucky there aren’t any teachers about.” Draco fought the urge to kick himself. Curfew? Out of all the things out there to talk about, he mentions curfew?

The girl brandishes a small scroll of parchment. “I have a permission slip.” Then a sly expression crosses her features. “Do you?”

“I don’t.” Draco admits. “But I’m Draco Malfoy, I don’t need a permission slip to be out on a midnight stroll.”

The girl perks up for some reason. “Draco Malfoy? That’s your name? Huh, it’s really cool.” She looked oddly happy at this and Draco felt a weird fluttery feeling in his stomach. He’d never gotten that kind of reaction before. Whenever people learned that he was a Malfoy they either grovelled to get on his good side or shied away in fear. The girl’s reaction was… nice, in a way.

“So, what’s your name?” He inquired tentatively.

“[f/n] [l/n]” She replied almost immediately, eyebrow quirking slightly. 

“…’’

“…”

Now what? Draco thought. What on earth do you say after introductions? Do you shake hands? Should he shake hands?

He was interrupted from his little dilemma when [f/n] began flapping her wings experimentally. She caught his eye and in one swift movement they disappeared back into her body leaving no trace that they had ever been there.

“I guess I’ve stretched my wings enough for now so I think I’m gonna head back inside.”  She held out her hand. “It was nice meeting you, Dragon.”

Draco could practically feel his insides melting into a pool of mush. She called him Dragon. His own mother calls him that so it shouldn’t be endearing. What is wrong with him? For fucks sake, he needs to get his act together.

 “N-nice meeting you too.” He took her hand and then all of a sudden all he can think about is how soft they were, just like her wings……

“Yule Ball!” He blurts out before he could stop himself.

There’s a still silence as [f/n} blinks a few times, her grip still loosely on his hand. “What?”

Draco swallows. Well, he took a step, he’ll keep walking. “The Triwizard Tournament usually comes with a Yule Ball which requires you take a-a date.”

She continues to stare.

“So basically I’m asking if maybe you’d like to- you know, if maybe you’d like to…”

She’s still staring. Draco gives up.

“Forget i-”

“Okay.”

Draco hears. He processes. “…huh?”

“You’re asking me to the ball, right? I said ‘okay’.” Oh god she’s got that weird happy expression on her face again and Draco just knows he’s done for. He takes a deep breath, gathering up whats left of his dignity.

“I’ll pick you at seven, don’t be late.” He goes for a bow but then remembers that he is clad only in pyjamas and a pair of slippers therefore probably looking like an idiot. He settles for quick nod of the head, ignoring the amused twinkle in [f/n]’s eyes, before walking away back the way he had come.

He’s already halfway across the pitch when [f/n] calls out to him. He turns too quickly for it to look casual and makes a mental note to chastise himself for it later. Malfoy’s need to be cool and suave, Draco. Cool and suave.   

“I just remembered that I’ve already picked out a dress and it’s green so please don’t pick something that would clash!” She shouts into cupped hands.

Draco can’t help the surprised smile that etches itself onto his face and because Malfoy’s don’t shout, he signals to her that he understands.

“I don’t think green will be a problem.” He says to himself.

anonymous asked:

Supercorp 6 or 9? Or both because they would be so cute. I love your writing so so much.

Supercorp, piggy back rides


It is the first time Kara Danvers has ever seen Lena Luthor sleep.

She hovers outside of Lena’s glass walled office before stepping lightly onto the balcony, the night humming quiet in her veins. She hadn’t meant to end up here, had fully intended to be in bed by now, curled around her spare pillow, waiting for the sun.

But.

Unlike Lena, dozing among a mess of papers and fastidiously typed notes at her desk, crime never sleeps.

It’s new this thing between them, this friendship, a lie Kara must juggle between two lives.

Just friendship, Kara reminds herself as she tucks her hair behind her ear, shifting her weight uneasily, only that. No matter the late-night-movie cuddling or the long kisses Lena presses to her cheek in farewell. No matter the lunches that stretch to early evening, Lena’s hand finding hers on the tabletop.

Kara steps closer, pressing her palm flat against the balcony door, unsure how many lines she is about to blunder through.

It is well past midnight now, the darkened city tipping into the witching hour, shadow drenched and vast. There are no stars tonight, no moon, and the darkness presses close against her shoulders, bearing down, a celestial weight.

Lena leaves the balcony door unlocked these days, and though Kara has never asked, she knows it’s for her.

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jungkook scenario | make me blush

You made these cupcakes for me? >> Jungkook
requested by anon
drabble // fluff // 700 words


“You made these cupcakes for me?”

Jungkook nods, blinking angelic eyes over a box of freshly baked cakes. “Yep, I worked hard on them too. Do you know how much muscle power it takes to whip buttercream?”

There’s no way you’re buying his words. The biceps, as well hidden as they may be under a flannel shirt, would have no problem with mixing. Besides, when does Jungkook ever do anything nice for you? You know what date it is today, and you know better than to trust the boy whose past crimes include drawing on your face while you sleep, leaving fake spiders in your shoes, and texting you song lyrics at three in the morning. So, who can blame you when you ask: “Did you swap the sugar for chili powder, or something?”

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next-door-writer  asked:

I want grilled cheese

Ok, so what you do it grab your bread (make sure it’s that good whole grain stuff, not that bleached white bread crap), cheese of your choice, some of that good ol’ mayonnaise (not the instrument), and maybe a teeny tiniest bit of good ol’ butter to be healthy. Next, get your handy dandy butter knife and slather that creamy mayo onto one side of each slice of bread. Get your cheese out and get as much cheesy goodness you want because treat yo self amiright. Then, turn on your stove and smack a pan on top of the fire. Put your lil bit of butter in and let it melt into a pool of delicious grease. Slap a slice into the pan with the mayo side facing down. Sprinkle that mountain of cheese and slap another piece of bread on top (mayo facing out). Flip that goodness over when you feel like it is crispy enough. If you like it burnt, go right ahead and verbally roast it. After your have savagely roasted it and it has lost it’s will to live, give that thing a smack down with the spatula to show it who’s boss. Slide it out of the pan when you’re satisfied with your creation. Don’t worry about it being hot because ain’t nobody got time for that. Now you can nom and devour your newborn grilled cheese child.

Achluophobia: Friday

Title: Achluophobia: Friday, Part 1 of 4
Author: @piecesofscully
Rating: PG-13 - Strong R
Timeline: Mid-season 7
Notes:  A HUGE thank you to @bohoartist for holding my hand through writing this, sending encouraging feedback when needed, and just being a badass beta in general.  Media credit to @bohoartist as well. I don’t deserve you.  So much love to @kateyes224 my baeta, for polishing my words and making them better.


PROLOGUE

Yellowed porch lights from neighboring houses punch orbs of brightness into the colorless night that hangs heavily behind the living room windows.  

“Lindsey!”  Her mother’s voice carries down the stairs to the couch that Lindsey sits on.  Joey, her younger brother, glances at her over his tower of Legos that perches atop the coffee table.  Ignoring his glare, she pulls her comic book closer to her face, her eyes straining to make sense of the jagged lines of the drawings at a too-close distance.

“Linds!”  She hears her mother’s sing-song call again.

“Mom’s calling you, you should answer,” Joey says as he rummages through the plastic toy pieces in front of him, before settling on a long red plank and places it at the top of his creation.  Lindsey chuckles and rolls her eyes as she snuggles herself deeper into the couch cushions.  Her little brother is the personification of innocence with his bright blue eyes and freckled cheeks, both of which lend credence to his invariably angelic attitude.

“She’ll come down and get me if she needs me.”  She can feel his eyes on her still as she nonchalantly flips the page of her book and smirks.  “Lighten up, punk.”

In a flurry, their mother enters the living room with her arms full of dirty laundry and her curly mahogany hair wisping wildly in every direction.  Recently laid off from her job as a bookkeeper, her days are spent doing laundry, meal-prepping for the week ahead, and whirling throughout their house like an F5 tornado with a purpose.

“Didn’t you hear me calling you?”  she asks, her voice as weightless as the flowy blouse she’s donned.

Lindsey shakes her head ‘no’ as her little brother speaks.  “She did.”

“Tattletale,” Lindsey mumbles. Joey shrugs.

Their mother sighs, and then chuckles as she flits around the furniture, dusting here and there with a stray sock.  “Linds, you really need to remember to blow out your candles before falling asleep.  You’re gonna burn the house down.”

“I like the light,” Lindsey responds as she flips a page of her book.

“Well, then we can get you a night-light.  A night-light won’t catch the curtains on fire.”

“Mom!  I’m fifteen, I can’t have a night-light.  If my friends saw that, it would be like freaking social suicide.”

“Language, please,” their mother warns.  “You know I don’t like it when you say freaking.  That’s just another variation of a cuss word, and we don’t talk like that in this house.”

“I have a night-light,” Joey offers.

“You’re eight, no one cares if you have one,” Lindsey replies.

“Linds, being afraid of the dark, at any age, is nothing to be ashamed of,” her mother says as she crouches and begins to pull stray socks from underneath the couch, tucking them to the heap of clothing under her arm.  “I know plenty of adults that sleep with the bathroom light on.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark!”

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