His phone screen is dark and it mocks him even as
he pastes on a smile for the girl currently cuddling into his side. What was
her name again? Ye Eun? Eunha?
Fuck if he knows.
All he knows is that you’re not replying to his
texts, and he needs to get drunk asap before he does something stupid like call
you. The girl he currently has his arm around beckons to her friend from a
distance away, and Jeongguk tries his best to keep his eyes off her tits in her
low cut tube dress as she approaches with a giggle.
“Jeongguk, right?” Girl number 2 sidles up to his
unoccupied side and he immediately feels her breasts against his arm. They’re
firm to the touch, which either means that they’re entirely fake, or that
there’s enough padding in her bra for it to be a bulletproof vest.
Mitsuki always knew he couldn’t be like what Sarada is to Boruto, and like what Boruto is to Sarada, they had a special bond, a bond that started when they were less than a year old and that continued to grow despite the multiple fights they had over the years.
They are quite a pair, one second they’re getting along, then they bicker, and Mitsuki finds that most of their fights are hilarious, ,thanks to Sarada’s snarky attitude and Boruto’s own mischievousness.
But they rarely actually fight, if they do they don’t cross the line, each of them has weak spots, things if the other said would cause a rift in their bond, and Sarada and Boruto knew each other’s weak spots very well.
They never used those weak spots against each other, those things were shared between them in trust.
He’s seen them fight but not like this, they’re practically throwing venom at each other.
“Would you stop acting like that on missions !?”
“You mean saving your life!”
“No I mean letting missing-nin touch you like you’re some slut!”
“If I didn’t seduce him like that then we would have been dead right now!”
“Dead is better than acting like a prostitute, what? a touch for our lives?!”
Boruto was absolutely livid, partly because Sarada distracted an ninja that as about to kill them by questionable methods, and partly because someone touched her in front of him , both of them were taught that kunoichi would sometimes be forced to do things like that, there were even missions that required skills like seducing men, that’s why Mitsuki wasn’t angry at what Sarada did, it was wrong, but that is the shinobi life.
It seems Sarada noticed that this was going too far, as she tried to stop this fight.
“Just… I’m going home, we’ll talk later.” She said as she turned away from him and took a few steps forward, intent on stopping this fight, but what Boruto said next made her blood boil.
“Yeah, go home where you dad is, maybe you’re daddy complex would lessen and you can stop seducing random men!”
Suddenly a slap echoed in the field as Sarada stood beside a dumbfounded Boruto.
That was when Mitsuki decided to intervene, he honestly didn’t think that they’d go this far.
He went and grabbed Sarada’s shoulders as a precaution, he knew she wouldn’t hurt him more cause if she really wanted to hurt him she would’ve punched him into a mountain.
He was right she didn’t hurt him, physically at least.
“I’ll do that while you go figure out another way other than cheating so your dad would acknowledge your mom and your presence in his life, but he never will because he doesn’t care about what you do !”
“Okay that’s it.” Mitsuki said as he dragged Sarada away, she was still glaring at Boruto, who was still stunned from the slap, but Mitsuki had no doubt that what Sarada said had cut deep.
When Boruto was out of sight Sarada shook him off and headed to the training fields, probably to let some steam out before the realization of what she just told her childhood friend sinks in.
Mitsuki sighed as he headed to where he left Boruto at, who was probably still stunned.
It’s a week later and they are still not speaking, not even looking at each other, on missions they have excellent teamwork, they still rely on each other on the field, but that’s it.
He talked with Boruto, who had it ingrained in his mind that what Sarada did was wrong, But Mitsuki managed to convince him that Sarada absolutely had to do it, and to remind him who he called a slut and that what he said probably hurt Sarada a lot more than he thought.
Then he talked to Sarada who was absolutely convinced that what she did was not wrong, but he managed to make her understand Boruto’s point of view, but she still wasn’t forgiving him about what he said, although he tried explaining to her that he didn’t mean it.
“He knew it would hurt me and he said it, so don’t say he didn’t mean it.” She told him after an hour of talking.
“But what you said hurt him too.”
“He fired first, his shot was more aimed,” she said angerly before getting up and going to get more dango.
It was true in a way, he hit one of Sarada’s biggest insecurities, insecurities she still didn’t get over, while what she said to Boruto was way out of the line, he got over his problems with his father a long time ago.
A week later, they spoke for the first time.
It was when Sarada was going after one of the thugs that they were to eliminate.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Boruto asked out of concern, his female teammate was obviously tired from the long mission.
“Why? You think my daddy complex would resurface?”
But Sarada didn’t give him a chance to talk as she ran off towards the thug.
Mitsuki thought that they will never be able to reconcile, every time he attempted to talk to the two together they would run away, he honestly thought this wouldn’t be solved without someone like Sarada’s parents or the hokage’s intervention, who were already beginning to suspect that something was off between their kids, but it seems he underestimated their bond.
It was a month after their shouting match when he saw them sitting under a tree, both of them were sitting cross legged on the grass, facing each other, Sarada was playing with the grass while talking to Boruto who looked much more at ease than he was this entire month.
He watched them talk for a couple of minutes before they stopped talking, eyes still on each other, Sarada moved so she could wrap her arms around Boruto, who returned the embrace.
They stayed like that far longer than a normal hug should last before breaking away, Boruto grabbed Sarada’s hand and pulled her up with him.
“I think I owe you tea and dango.” Boruto joked, which put a smile on Sarada’s face.
“And I think I owe you an extra jalapeno burger.”
“But Sara-chan I burned my tongue the last time I ate that.” He whined.
“That’s kinda the point.”
“Meanie.” He said as he pocked her nose, Sarada smiled before looking down, Boruto followed her gaze to their intertwined hands.
Both of them turned red, but they made no move to pull away, instead they continued their march towards wherever they were going as Mistuki stood dumbfounded behind a bush.
Of course they didn’t need someone to make them talk to each other, they spent all their lives fighting, they know how to solve their fights, they probably took this long to make sure they aren’t angry anymore so the fight won’t escalate.
Mistuki smirked as he realized something, of course he can’t be what sarada is to boruto and what boruto is to Sarada, other than their history, they have a special bond that is starting to evolve from friendship to something else, something more passionate, more beautiful, something that will not let anything tear them apart.
Turning his head lightly to the side to lessen the pain from holding the same position for too long, he sticks his tongue out just a little bit. But enough to be able to decide from which side the wind wascoming and how strong it would be. It’s crucial if he wants to get the job done to be as precise as possible.
Long fingers caress his ash-black friend oh-so gentlyas always it was his treasure, the only thing he could trust without having anydoubt. He slowly quickly calculates the position by experience and intuition then adjusting it slightly to the left and inhales to take a good look.
A not-so-AU where Niall constantly runs charities, and Harry
shows up at one. (Look at me writing and posting twice in one day. I’m proud of myself.)
Niall loves the work he does, loves the people he gets to
meet, the people he gets to help, and the connections he makes throughout any
charity process. He raises thousands of dollars for each charity he aims to
help, and though the work may sometimes be exhausting, he feels that the smiles
and genuine teary-eyed Thank You’s he gets are worth it, and they inspire him to
keep doing the work he does.
He loves playing footie and organizing huge games with
famous players and his mates, but his favorite charity events are the auction
parties. He and his mates use their connections to get pieces from all sorts of
rich or important people, as well as valuable items like expensive phones and
laptops, and anyone is allowed to come give their money to a good cause. It was
at his last auction event that Niall rekindled an old flame rather than
creating a new one.
The auction was at its midpoint, one item away from a twenty
minute break that was necessary to holding people’s attention throughout the
night. Niall was in the middle of laughing along with Louis when a familiar
t-shirt was brought onto the stage on a thin mannequin. The white t-shirt had
been a favorite of his, though the feminine hands littering it confused him at
first. He could have identified that shirt anywhere, and of course the
auctioneer confirmed his suspicion of who it belonged to.
“This piece was donated to us by a mister Harry Styles, who
happens to be in attendance tonight. The bidding will start at one hundred
A section of story taking place somewhere in the middle of the larger piece that slaapkat and myself are writing that will hopefully be published some day relatively soon.
‘La Douleur Exquise’ is a word describing the ache of loving someone you know that you can not have.
Tabitha should have known better than to offer to drink with his boss.
When he had come into Maxie’s office and seen the man uncharacteristically disgruntled, he should have just turned around and left. Instead, he did what he thought a perfect boyfriend would do, and sat down next to the redhead where he sat crumpled on his couch, legs pulled up against his chest and face buried in his knees. Even after that, Tabitha should have known better than to put his hand on Maxie’s knee, keeping it there as he saw his boss flinch. And he never should have offered to pour him a drink.
This image was captured in a snowmobile-access backcountry area just south of Whistler. My friend Adam Topshee had scoped out some interesting ice formations that he thought would be good to shoot. We asked our friend Dan Treadway to join us.
At first it didn’t seem like much, but as we began to explore, we found interesting angles and got more comfortable working around the ice. Eventually, I was comfortable enough to position myself in one of the cracks in order to shoot out toward the opening. I was pretty nervous and excited at the same time, as I realized it was a unique angle and had some potential to be a great shot.
On his first try, Dan sent too much snow down with him and I never saw him pass. I only saw a wall of snow pouring over the opening. The whole thing was coordinated with radios so that we could communicate effectively. Even with the radios, the moment was very short-lived as Dan passed very quickly over the cave opening. Luckily, I managed to capture the shot on the second attempt. It was pointed out to me later that the scene resembles a closing wave shot from within. Ice is just frozen water, so it’s ironic in a way. I think it’s one of my strongest images to date.
Stydia 500 word prompt - stiles and lydia end up falling asleep in each other's arms and someone catches them.
So this ended up a wee bit longer than just 500 words (surprise surprise), but I don’t think anyone is going to complain ;)
Thanks for the prompt and I hope you enjoy it!
Red and blue.
That’s all Stiles could see as he opened his eyes, blinking away the sleep that still clouded them. Where was he again? The last thing he remembered was pouring over more case files he had pilfered from his dad and doing what he seemed to do more than anything else these days: research. He yawned as he moved to stretch his cramped arms when he felt resistance. There was something on his arm.
Suddenly he froze as he remembered. Stiles hadn’t been researching by himself, his now familiar spunky research partner had been there too. His red haired partner. Stiles slowly opened his eyes and as they adjusted to the darkness of his bedroom, he could just make out Lydia’s strawberry blonde hair on his blue sheets right in front of his face. He tentatively pulled his head back, fully taking in the situation he now found himself in.
Lydia’s head was resting on his right arm as she laid curled up against him, asleep, one arm thrown over his chest and her legs tangled around his own. Stiles swallowed thickly as his mind went into overload. What the hell had happened? Well, obviously they had both been tired from recent events and pulling yet another all night ‘figure out the latest big bad’ session had been a poor idea, judging by the fact that they had passed out on top of the papers they had been study. On his bed. Together.
Stiles craned his neck to catch sight of the glowing numbers of his alarm clock. It was only 1:08am. He almost scoffed that he automatically thought one o’clock in the morning was ‘early’ now. Obviously they all needed to get more sleep, perhaps before they ended up passing out next time. Squinting, he reached over to his bedside lamp and switched it off, the room going dark as he pondered his next move, looking down at the girl in his arms.
As Stiles continued to wrack his brain for ideas on what to do next (he couldn’t honestly just go back to sleep, could he? Should he try and get up without waking her or should he wake her up first and not risk getting caught trying to sneak away?), his bedroom door suddenly burst open. The sudden influx of light from the hallway caused Stiles to grimace and throw his free hand over his eyes.
“Stiles, there you are! I’ve been calling you for hours, we-“
Stiles squinted at the figure in his doorway for a few moments before he was able to determine who was standing there. It was Scott, standing with his mouth open and eyes wide, having stopped in the middle of his tirade in shock at the scene before him. Crap.
Scott’s mouth quickly closed into a smirk, a look that clearly said ‘I am never going to let you hear the end of this’ covering his face. “And what’s going on in here?” he asked slyly, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Stiles groaned, silently cursing his luck. “Uh, nothing, we, uh, we were just, um, looking over some things, ya know, trying to figure out the latest mess we’ve found ourselves in and, uh, we just… fell asleep,” he tried, his face growing hot as he watched his best friend’s smirk grow with every stuttered word. “Nothing happened,” he insisted, though on second thought he wasn’t sure why he was so adamant about Scott knowing that.
“Suuuuure,” Scott laughed, shaking his head in amusement, unable to resist the opportunity to tease Stiles.
Scott’s laughter caused Lydia to stir and Stiles froze, fearing what she would do and say when she found herself in his arms. As she slowly blinked her eyes open and raised her head he hoped his death would be quick and painless.
Lydia glanced up at Stiles first, then twisted her head to look to the source of the offending light now streaming into the room. After a moment, much to both the boys’ surprise, she lowered her head back down onto Stiles’ arm and snuggled closer to his chest. “Tired now. More sleep,” she murmured, closing her eyes.
Scott and Stiles locked eyes across the room in pure shock, neither knowing what to do or say. Stiles recovered first and shot his friend a grin before he too settled back onto the bed, hesitating only a second before placing his free hand on top of Lydia’s on his chest. “I guess we’ll see you tomorrow Scott,” he said cheekily before he too closed his eyes, the grin never leaving his face.
Scott stood there dumbstruck for an entire minute before he slowly backed out of the room and softly shut the door. “About time,” he muttered, shaking his head as he left.
Do you think Dylan felt bad when Eric shot Rachael scott? Since they kind of had a history together?
I think everything was happening so fast that morning when it started that there was no time to stop, look and consider anything. Had they, had he been soft from the get-go and felt an immediate twinge of regret for Rachel it would’ve been a doomed mission. And Dylan’s goal was primarily to exit this place for good. What happened in the next hour didn’t matter any more. Overall, there was a complete numbness and apathy about Dylan’s demeanor and in contrast to Eric who was more jacked and edgy - especially the day before. Once NBK, got started on the south-west lawn, Dylan, like Eric, was on auto-pilot, carrying out the mission that they’d planned for many months. It was now or never. He may have momentarily seen who Eric took his first rapid-fire pot shots at but he was too focusing on his own start to NBK, that ‘shaking like a leaf’ and chompin’ at the bit at the start line pumped up rush to begin what he needed to do to reek havoc and cause the most damage,destruction and death as possible. So, no, he was not focusing on Rachel falling helplessly to the ground nor did he have the time to feel a twinge of remorse for her had he heard her cry out helplessly. This was not a time to have the impulse to save lives but to take them. You have to realize too that both had prepared themselves for this moment. They had talked themselves into hardening and callousing themselves into killing machines, to not feel any remorse for their enemies nor the collateral damage that would/could unfortunately happen to people they knew and were meh, kinda ok about (as with Rachel and Dylan) or even those they liked well enough as their own friends. They could not let such things interfere, to get in the way of their Fuck All mission.