#Find the Word

[houserautha]

Find the Word

How it works: I search for the words previously assigned to me in my latest WIPs and then choose four words for you to search for in your WIPs.

Thank you @psycheetamore and @moonbeammist for the tags!! Sorry I’m so behind! I was given the words sculpted, strong, delicous, covet and shiver, hears, utter, time.

Strong from This Body, This Flesh:

The urge to cross the space between you to touch him, to touch the fatal spot where the knife had slid in, robbing you of him, is too strong. You hope he doesn’t notice you staring. To refrain from indulging in the urge, your hands clench into fists at your sides.

Delicious from Part 19 of TDE:

You're utterly vulnerable as Feyd starts to work the clasps of your stillsuit, fingers grazing over your skin in the most delicious way. The suit falls from your shoulders and you lift up each arm as he tugs it off, mouth following its path with open mouth kisses. He snakes around you to cup your breast, flicking one stiff nipple with his thumb.

Covet from Pain & Pleasure:

“He should know to take care of such a beautiful woman, lest someone start to covet her." He adds boldly, "There are more things a man can offer you than prestige and wealth."

“And what would that be?" You peer up at him from beneath your lashes.

Feyd has given you quite literally anything you could ask for — a home, a protector, an equal. And more orgasms than you can count, which you understand is what this man before you is implying the na-Baron cannot provide.

Shiver from Truth Be Told:

“You can’t wait, can you?” The blade shivers. A wave of ecstasy sweeps over you as he touches it to the inside of your thigh.

You all but thrust your hips into him, a wanton, greedy thing. Mercifully, Feyd-Rautha grazes the blade to your weeping cunt and then outlines your entrance, more gentle than any man with his reputation should allow. But he finds love in this, does he not? The delicate control that he wields, the certainty of a weapon in his hands. You sense this from him the same way someone can look at a piece of art and know the care the artist put into each brushstroke.

Hears from Part 20 of TDE:

A moment passes, the few seconds before your world tilts on its axis. You don't see the poison dart, or hear it. It buries into your shoulder with surprisingly subtlety, cementing it's existence with a rush of heat in your bloodstream. You look at it, shocked. You waver.

Utter from Part 19 of TDE:

Your survival instinct is yelling at you to fight and you thrash, desperate to rake air back into your lungs. But there's no mistaking the utter thrill of him pounding into your cunt over and over again, quite literally holding your life in his hand while he does it. Only Feyd could straddle this delicate line of control — only Feyd would you let hold such power, one infinitesimal decision away from ending your life for good.

Time from Life & Death:

You don’t know who moves first. It doesn’t matter, not when he pulls you into his chest and kisses you until you’re breathless. You give yourself to him like the flowers have given themselves back to the earth, without concern, to be folded away in the darkness until it’s time to come alive again. And Feyd-Rautha, this God of Death and Battle, forged by war and sickness, lowers you so gently to the forest floor.

I am so terrible with tags, but for anyone who wants to participate, please do!! Your words are Feyd-centric, of course: shadow, dangerous, kneel, and graze(s).

I apologize @psycheetamore I couldn’t find “sculpted” and I was so outraged that I haven’t used that word in reference to Feyd that I’m writing it in the last part of TDE😂

[luckydeuce]

find the word

some time ago, I was tagged in the find the word game, which is my favourite thing ever. and i promise chapter 8 is coming together (very, very slowly - but it is). so.

from @swifty-fox loose, blink, peak, sweet

loose John notices Paul at the edge of the makeshift ball game but only speaks to him later, when they’re both loose-limbed and pleasantly tipsy, full from a dinner of shawarma and whatever passed for side dishes.

blink

“So,” John says, voice smooth, all innocent curiosity if you don’t want to hear the undertone. “You don’t play?”

Paul huffs a small laugh, blinks, then extends the cigarette between two fingers. “Not with them,” he says. They look at each other, and John can bet they’re both thinking of the same thing: the loud, raucous rabble of men inside. “Not my team.”

peak (oh, this is cheating...)

“How’d the game go yesterday?” John asks.

A pause. Too long. Red is weighing something. He sniffs into the receiver before speaking.

“Not as good as we thought,” he says.

A slow coil tightens in John’s gut. Not an alarm yet, but a warning.

from @amiserableseriesofevents hot, finger, gaze, fire

hot

Curt’s fingers find Gale’s wrist, hot and rough, insistent; his grip is firm, his laughter sharp, if a little rusty. They run through the yard, dew catching on the hems of their slacks, dress shoes slipping on the neatly trimmed carpet of green. They’ve done it so many times, and Gale was always the careful one. Even now—

finger

Gale bites. Licks the salt from his thumb. And then—because why not?—he licks his fingers, too.

gaze

Gale’s fingers tremble, ice-cold, as he tries to press the coil of the belt into John’s hand. He can’t meet his gaze.

 “What are you trying to do, Buck?” John croons. “Do you want me to punish you?”

I am tagging @wayrad @weimarweekly @irregularcollapse and @happy-days19 - no pressure, but your words are: only, salt, hurt and word

[space-writes]

find the word

tagged by @willtheweaver, thank you! my words are blade, feast, inferno, and snap. These are all from my (nearly done!) first draft of Awakened Witch.

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

blade

He had the knife at Sorrow’s throat before the infernii had finished speaking. Leaning beside the doorframe, glittering in the late-morning light like the overwrought trinket he was, Sorrow’s only reaction to the blade was a taunting grin. “Now, now, little ghost. I paid you to guide me. I assume you charge extra for murder.”

feast

“Come away, highness,” Zander said, taking Lucian’s arm. With the towers stopped to feast, they paused too, snatching what rest they could. “No sense torturing yourself.”

inferno

cheating and using Infernus here :P

“I don’t need your help,” Vren said, though there was no bite to the words. A roughness held them instead, low, almost unsure. Sorrow let his hands linger, settling on Vren’s shoulders. “But wouldn’t it be nice to have it?” he murmured, then bent to capture Vren’s mouth with his own. This was outside, in full view of everyone, and he expected to be shoved away, to laugh and tease and take a bruise for his audacity. Instead there was a moment of hesitation, then a warm hand firm on the back of his neck, holding him in place. A surge of sweet triumph soared in his chest. I’ve got you now, k’zat avrai. The man would do as he wanted. All Sorrow had to do was keep his ghost alive long enough to get him back to Infernus, and House Kyvelian would fall open to him and all his vengeful desires.

snap

Tall he might’ve been, but strong he was not. Even in her current state, [Cherry] reckoned she could snap several of his limbs like twigs before he got anywhere close to being a problem.

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

no-pressure tagging @mjjune @winterandwords @asterhaze and @charlesjosephwrites with the words broken, head, whine, and alive

Valloroth taglist: @cherrybombfangirlwrites @reininginthefirewriting @memento-morri-writes @foxboyclit @lawful-evil-novelist

@at-thezenith @morganwriteblr @fayeiswriting @serenanymph

@sam-glade @viscerawrites @thegreatobsesso @flower-reads @the-inkwell-variable (ask to be +/-)

[medusapelagia]

Find the Word

How it works: I search for the words prev assigned me in my latest WIP and then choose four words for you to search in your WIP.

I was tagged by the lovely @thatgirlwithasquid! Thank you so much for the tag and sorry for being late (as always, lol)

My words are: stage, sweet, sink, settle

Stage: from my Eddie Big Bang, Love in Blood and Fire

"Jesus, Eddie. You're such a masochist!" Frank sighs, plopping on a foldable chair. Ok, ok, maybe Steve looks really edible right now, but it's not a problem, because Steve’s straight and he's still in love with Nancy, so it doesn't matter if tonight he'll look like Eddie's wet dreams. It's just a game: Steve is pretending to be interested in metal and Eddie is pretending Steve is something he's not.  Just a stupid game. He's still deep into these thoughts when a guy with a pair of big headphones knocks on their door and calls their names, telling them that they are up. The guys bump their fists together, yelling "Corroded Coffin!" before grabbing their instruments and stepping on stage.

Sweet: from my Eddie Big Bang, Love in Blood and Fire

Steve's still incredibly beautiful and Eddie's heart starts to race faster and faster. The temptation to reach out and brush one knuckle against Steve's cheek is so strong that his hands ache with desire, so he tightens his grip on the steering wheel and keeps driving to the two-bedroom apartment that he shares with his friends. It's not fancy, but it's home. Eddie's guitar is resting on the couch where Eddie was playing while waiting for Steve.  He'll never admit it, but if he stayed up all night playing and smoking in the living room, it was because he was too nervous at the idea that Steve would have come to see him. Them. He came to see them. "Home sweet home." Eddie declares, closing the door of their third-floor apartment without an elevator.

Sink : from my Stommy Big Bang, Never felt worhty of love

"Follow your dreams, huh? You did it, didn't you? And, please, remind me, how did it end up?" Steve snarls back. "Fuck you! I'm just trying to be supportive." "You're not supportive!" Steve yells, splashing in the sink, "This is my fucking life ok? Living at my best friend's place because I can't afford a stupid apartment and working like a dog at that stupid sporting goods store! There's no place for dreams here, Tommy!" "That's not true! You could ask for a student loan and get back to college! I talked with Robin and we think…" "You think? What about me? Have you ever asked me what I think? Because what I think is that I'm utterly fucked and I'm only trying to survive! Is that clear enough?!"

Settle: from my Stommy Big Bang, Never felt worhty of love

Steve gets into his car, driving aimlessly around town even if it means that he’s wasting gas. He needs to clear his mind, and when he finally feels more settled, he parks at  Robin’s place, wondering if anyone apart from her would notice if he disappeared. If he just left Chicago once and for all. For a moment his hands ache with the desire of turning the car on and driving, driving somewhere where he could be finally free from Steve Harrington and start being someone else. Someone who’s not his best friend's burden. Someone who isn’t a failure. Someone who still has a bright future in front of him. But the silly plastic Hawaiian necklace Robin gave him as a warm house present is dangling from his car’s rear mirror and he knows that he could do anything to Steve Harrington, but he could never make Robin suffer.

My no pressure tags are: @runraerun, @lorifragolina, @danadaria, @mission2mordor, @sidekick-hero, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation and whoever wants to join ;)

Your words are: holiday, sun, breath, family

[revenantlore]

Find the Words

@indecentpause tagged me to find : soft, tree, guess, yellow

tagging @winterandwords , @oh-no-another-idea , @pluttskutt , and @cwritesfiction to find : ink, anxious, wink, nail [ if anyone else wishes to participate please do and tag me in your post ]

all from press start

soft

Daylight’s peeking through the clouds behind a chubby silhouette knelt in front of Rem some hours later. His head’s fucking throbbing, chin itching with dried blood, and every inch of him is aching.

But Chet’s a welcome sight, reaching with a hand out to haul Rem to his feet. “Come on, up. Let’s get inside and get ya some water ’n you can fill me in on your night, hm?”

“Coffee,” Rem slurs through a swollen lip and Chet rolls his eyes; they soften to something like understanding, though, and he nods.

tree

Christmas lights twinkle in his peripheral, bright and red like the cherry at the end of his cigarette. An unwanted reminder of this past week, of shit he’d prefer to keep buried … most of it he can’t remember anyway. Tree’s been down since Monday, but Lisa still hums Jingle Bells like New Years isn’t right around the corner. Seems she’s not the only one in town hung up on keeping the Christmas spirit alive.

guess

“What’s he doing here …?”

Rem shrugs. “Wanted to catch up.”

“Because that went so well last time?” Oli doesn’t look convinced, but nor does he push the subject. Just sighs and steps aside to let Lizbeth pass them to return to the table. “Guess I should let you get back …” He takes another look over Rem’s bruises, in a long and lingering stare that rattles Rem. “Don’t forget we’ve got plans tonight, though, okay? New Years?”

Rem nods and forces a grin. Knocks his knuckles into Oliver’s arm. “Right, ‘cause you owe me that midnight kiss,” he teases and lingers just long enough to watch Oli’s cheeks flush before he walks away to rejoin Ross.

yellow

There are mints on the pillows, pink and yellow flowers sewn into the quilt, and the room smells like old people. Rem wrinkles his nose, about to say fuck this and suggest they take this somewhere else, but Jonah's mouth silences him in a rough, crushing kiss.

Hands catching in his hair, teeth biting into Rem's bottom lip, he loses himself to Jonah's touch and forgets everything else.

Everything but Oliver's mouth on his own for those awkward, fleeting seconds last night.

[trekkiehood]

Find the Word

I was tagged by both @steviewicks45 and @stars-remain2 so I'm going to do them both because I love doing this so much <3

Words: Steviewicks45: Gasp, Eyes, Walk, Blue *White Stars-Remain: Fight, Guilt, Touch, Kiss (Bonus Scene)

All scenes are from chapter two of Paint Your Smile & Hide Your Face

Gasp

It came back with roaring clarity with the realization that he couldn't breathe.  He also realized that the reason was twofold. The first being the pressure on his chest where he was being straddled by Langsmier, the second being the hands wrapped tightly around his throat.  Gale gasped, trying to force air through his restricted airways. His hands scrabbled at the grip, panic outweighing his normal complacency.  There was a shout and the sound of snow crunching beneath feet. Brady. He was probably leaving. On one hand Gale thought it was for the best, on the other the idea of being alone terrified him.  

---

Eyes

The Colonel nodded and made quick steps away. Towards the komendanture.  Gale felt like he was being led before a fire squad.  His head connected with the wall behind him, squeezing his eyes shut and delivering quick breaths out his nose.  His heart was pounding and the cold was starting to melt away.  This was all Bucky’s fault.

---

Walk

“Just tell me who it was, Buck. Then I can stop worrying about it.”  But that’s not what would happen. Either Bucky would go off halfcocked and try to enact vengeance, or he’d never let Gale out of his sight. He was already proving he was more than willing to do the latter.  He meant to express that. Explain that Bucky finding out would do more harm than good. Reasonably lay out the facts and get Bucky to understand best that he could.  Instead what came out of his mouth was a seething: “Stay out of my business. If I wanted you to know, I’d tell you. Leave it.”  The words had left quicker than Gale could stop him. The only thing he could do was walk away quickly, latrine forgotten. Bucky wouldn’t retaliate in front of the men. Probably. He just had to get back to the bunkroom. 

---

*White (It's the only color word I could find...)

“Into the winter wonderland.” Bucky commented before leading the way out of the barrack.  It was warmer than it had been the previous day. The snow had started to melt, leaving a thick sludge instead of fluffy white snow.  “We need to shovel this before it freezes again.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Can’t you take a nice stroll without thinking about what needs to be done.”  Gale bit back his answer, opting to remain silent. No. He couldn’t. Bucky had made it clear that he’d rather wallow in self-pity than take a leadership role here. So Gale would have to shoulder it for both of them. 

---

Fight + Guilt

John came forward, grabbing Gale by the shoulders. “Buck, look at me.” He gave a firm shake. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but you’ve got to talk to me. Whatever you’re bottling up, it's killing you. Just talk to me.” He shoved him away, taking the smallest pride in the way Bucky stumbled back. He wanted to lash out. Wanted to fight. A part of him knew that it wasn’t Bucky who he wanted to make bleed, but he couldn’t strike at who he wanted without getting shot. It was taking all of his self control to not come in swinging and Bucky seemed determined to push him past his limit for tolerance.  “You think you’re proving that you’re fine? Is that what you think you’re doing?” He stepped back up until the two majors were face to face. “All you’re doing is proving that I was right to go to the Colonel.”

A twig snapped free from the fire inside of him, igniting every last fiber of his being. His fist came up, aiming for his cheek but landing closer to his nose. Blood made an appearance, John’s hand rising to meet it.  Bucky had never looked so surprised. Guilt should come now. It probably was buried in there somewhere. But all Gale felt in the moment was satisfaction. Relief. Release.  “Stay out of my business, Egan. I’m not telling you again.”

---

Touch

The Colonel sighed. “I want you to think for a moment, Buck. If you found out that one of your men was being mistreated, hurt, how would you feel?”  He'd feel awful. He'd want to know so he could take care of it. He'd want to make sure that they were okay.  But that's not what this was. He wasn't some private who needed to be cared for. He could take care of himself. He'd been doing so his entire life. He didn't need people in his business. Didn’t need them to know the way Langsmier’s touch seemed to linger on his skin. He didn't need people knowing. He didn't need his friends getting hurt because of him.

---

Bonus because I did not have kiss or anything resembling it <3

“Buck.”  Gale flinched back at the hand on his shoulder. Buck's exhaustion was the only thing keeping Brady from having a bloody nose.  What was the kid even doing here? He probably came to yell at him about hurting Bucky. He probably deserved it.  “You should come to dinner. You didn't come to lunch and Bu- I wanted to make sure you came to dinner.”  Bucky. Still looking after him. Still trying to take care of him. Sending Brady to try and keep Buck from lashing out again. The softness of the gesture was mixed with the petulant inner thought of “at least he actually noticed.” 

No pressure tagging: @youokaybucky @heretoobsessstuff @joeyalohadream

Your words: Run, hate, help, tired

(If you saw me misspell my own OCs name no you didn't I haven't edited it yet and I'm just throwing letters out there)

[pertinax--loculos]

Find the Word Tag Game

Tagged by the always brilliant @thegreatobsesso; as always, thank you! ^_^ I'm going to tag you back, plus @winterandwords, @revenantlore, @space-writes, @sarahlizziewrites, @oh-no-another-idea, @kd-holloman and @artdecosupernova-writing to search their WIPs for the words (or variations thereof): plunge, coy, valid, naked, and rose.

I'm diving into the Old [Redacted] WIP for this (and also chucked it into Scrivener to make the searching easier -- turns out it's only 166k words total so far, which is somehow less than I thought it would be? Honestly this WIP is a fucking beast).

time

Raleigh POV

The stranger narrowed his eyes, raising a hand to block the light. "Who the hell is- wait. You think I'm fucking working with you fundie dicks? The fuck gave you that impression?"

Raleigh had to fight not to splutter. Between the cursing, the casual use of the insult for Members, and the denial of being in on the test, his nervousness was abruptly back full force.

The smirk on the stranger's face intensified. "Take your time. And get that fucking light out of my face."

hono(u)r

Raleigh POV

Raleigh swallowed against a tight throat. This wasn’t an assignment, this was a freaking funeral, a gathering supposed to honour the memory of a passionate young man taken far too soon. And here he was, with the Brotherhood, slithering into the midst of the mourners to poke and prod and tease out information from people at their most vulnerable.

peace

Dash POV

Dash’s jaw locked. He looked away, again, knowing it was cowardly and revealing but unable to stop himself. He was too hungover to deal with this. With all of this, any of this; it was too much, grating against his raw nerves. The modicum of peace he’d felt for those few moments in bed with Alec seemed like a very long time ago. The oxy wasn’t kicking hard enough to smooth the sharpness of all these edges.

war

Raleigh POV

Peter grinned in a way that was clearly supposed to be gregarious but failed to reach his eyes. "Excellent! Okay, so, this place has been abandoned since the War. An old brainbent woman used to live here, a prophecisor, and rumour has it that when she saw the Church was going to win, she hung herself in the attic. Your assignment is to retrieve the rope she used to do the deed."

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks @winterandwords here!

Rules: post excerpts of your WIP that include the given words!

Wow, I'm finally doing this game where I just have one tag to go through! This shouldn't be nearly as long!

I'll ignore I don't say again like that to make it rhyme

Rain - from The Secret Portal Part One (Maddie POV)

As we came closer, I could see a chunk of metal about two feet in diameter. Only, it didn’t seem rusted at all. We’d talked about how oxygen reacted with metals and rusted them in science class, and I found it super cool but couldn’t remember if all metals rusted or not. This was either a normal occurrence or something irregular, and I didn’t know which one it was! Wait, maybe it had something to do with rain…. Does it rain here? Is that important!? Agh, it bothered me that I couldn't remember.

Mainly coming from me realizing a beginning of year sixth grader may not know this part of chemistry.

Pain - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

I tried to sit on the grass to contemplate everything when I hit something hard. I cried out in pain and shot up, rubbing the now-sore spot—feeling awkward even though no one was around. I turned to see what I hit and jumped when I saw millions of colors shoot up from the ground. I looked around and watched the endless field disappear from view.

Did you know in the previous draft, Lexi hit her head? Ouch.

Drain(ed) - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Ash POV)

With the couches, kitchen, and center of the living room all taken, all the kids were forced to sit in the corners. Hannah was practically in the hallway standing next to Reyna and Adrian’s daughter Rachel. Mikey was with Rachel’s brother Hunter sitting under the kitchen counter. And I stood in the corner with Amanda (Hunter and Rachel’s middle-sibling), and Charlie (Aurora and… Randall’s daughter). I felt trapped as the overload of conversations weighed on my ears. I had to focus my attempts to remember everyone’s name and relation all day, and I was drained. It didn’t help that I had to suppress my telepathic abilities, lest I go insane. My brain felt itchy. Too much information, almost.

Ash having an extended family gathering over here and is not enjoying it.

Again - from The Secret Portal Part Two (Maddie POV)

I rocked back and forth on my feet. Kelsey and Hye-Jin were running later than usual. I yawned to myself as I fiddled with Wilfredo in my hands. My tongue ran over my teeth, and I wished once again March would come sooner so I could get my braces off.

Wilfredo is Maddie's amigurumi tiger!

Alright that was a lot shorter. I miss this. I feel free.

Tagging @frostedlemonwriter @finxi-writes @sleepywriter00 @squarebracket-trickster @bookish-karina

+ ANYONE ELSE

Your words: swallow, forget, game, transition

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[charlesjosephwrites]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks for the tag @oh-no-another-idea!

My words were minor, cease, examine, and black.

These happen to be a perfect set of words to give me an excuse to share some bits of my new WIP. I'm gonna make a proper intro for this project at some point, but it's a sci-fi Wizard of Oz retelling.

minor

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir.” The man extended a hand towards Toto. “Um… he’s a dog,” Dorothy said. The man’s gaze slowly lifted back towards her, his blank expression showing he hadn’t quite comprehended what she was trying to tell him. “He…” Dorothy’s voice cracked. “He can’t speak.” “Oh!” The man dropped his hand back down to his side. “I’m so sorry. I should not have assumed.” He cut himself off with a sharp shake of his head. “It’s no problem. Just a minor inconvenience. We’ll sort it out.” His smile remained as unwavering as ever as he turned to the crowd to ask, “Does anyone here know Canine Sign Language?”

cease and examine

There must have been at least a couple hundred people wearing various shades of blue all focused on the escape pod. Everyone was cheering and clapping their hands and stomping their feet, though all their celebrating slowly ceased as they started locking their eyes on Dorothy. Dorothy squirmed under the weight of all the unexpected attention. “Um… hello?” she greeted awkwardly. “You have saved us!” A man in a powder blue suit with a massive bow tie broke free from the crowd. He rushed forward to grasp Dorothy’s hand, shaking so vigorously she was afraid he might pull her arm right out of its socket. “If you ever need anything, just say the word, and we’ll do everything in our power to help you.” “I…” Dorothy’s voice caught in her throat as she wiggled her hand out of the man’s grasp. “What?” “You killed her!” the man said excitedly. Her eyes widened. “I killed someone?” “The Wicked Witch!” The man gestured towards something behind her. Dorothy slowly turned towards where the man was pointing. At first, all she saw was the crumpled metal from the escape pod hitting the ground a bit too hard, but as she inched forward to examine it a little closer, her eyes locked right on the silver shoes on the ground and the legs they were attached to jutting out from under the escape pod. “I… I didn’t…” Her stomach churned as she slowly turned back towards the crowd. “That was an accident.”

black

Her dog Toto sat at her feet, his tail waggling furiously and his big brown eyes staring up at her expectantly. Dorothy crouched, and the little black terrier immediately jumped into her arms. “We’re going for a walk,” Dorothy announced. She didn’t wait for Aunt Em’s permission before stomping off down the hall, doing her best to keep her sulky face despite Toto’s efforts to cheer her up by nuzzling his nose into her cheek.

I'll tag @space-writes, @kitty-is-writing, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @thewriteflame, and anyone else who sees this and wants an excuse to share some snippets for their wip!

Your words are high, defy, bring, and send.

[ahordeofwasps]

Find the Word Tag

I've been tagged by the excellent @charlesjosephwrites! Thanks for the tag! My words are heart, warm, about, and again. I'll be sharing excerpts from my current WIP, the Haunting of Breadbeard's Pasta Tavern (THOBPT).

But first, the no pressure tags! I'll be tagging @loopyhoopywrites, @space-writes, @chauceryfairytales, @talesofsorrowandofruin, and open tag! Your words are defense, death, deed, and dent!

Now, onto THOBPT!

Heart, Warm, & Again

For a moment, I feel the cheap black plastic of the light’s exterior and the warm flesh of Wyatt’s hand. I am touching, I am feeling! The breath I don’t need catches in my throat. Then the sensation disappears and my hand passes through. It’s not like dying again. No ones’ arms are wrapped around me, desparately trying the heimlich maneuver. There’s no panic, just a ragged hole in my heart telling me it was never going to work. The only one crying is me. Even though I tried not to.

About

The double-swing door opens and the manager, Wyatt, struts in like an omen. “You silly rascals at your shenanigans again,” he chuckles through an unmoving smile, “The customers can hear you silly-billies. Remember your indoor voices?” Oh no. It’s about to get worse than worse. Wyatt is like the horseman of kitchen disasters. I would not be surprised if he was personally responsible for the crouton that killed me.

[toribookworm22]

Find The Word (×2)

Thank you, @winterandwords & @oh-no-another-idea

No pressure tagging: @elijahrichardwrites @doublegoblin @hghrules @kayedium-writes & my open tag!

Your words are: YELL, DATE, & FREE.

My words were: lost, found, nowhere, somewhere, high, low, tall & short and bite, tooth, mouth, & jaw.

All excerpts from my queer superhero story world. Hidden under the cut.

Lost

It even smells like sickness. 23 people-- 24 counting Anny. I wonder how many lost lives that’s not counting. I wonder how many lives I couldn’t save because it took me four months to even get here.

Found

Four years ago, the medical team I woke up to told me I was found by a storm aftermath crew. I was buried in the wreckage of Mayan ruins, thought dead until I apparently grabbed one of the volunteer’s ankles and started speaking a language none of them recognized.

Nowhere

Shella cleaned up the kitchen while I was inthe shower, but I wish she hadn’t. There’s nothing to do. Nowhere to do it. I’m not allowed out of the apartment, not even allowed on my own balcony yet.

Somewhere

I dig my fingers into the woman’s shoulder, trying to get some kind of grip on her. There’s no way I can get her all the way to the village, but if I can just get her a little further, find somewhere to hide her, I can gather my strength and find Manuela. I can. I can.

High(er)

The waves licked at my sandals, crystal blue on worn brown, a shush against the haze of my thoughts. I kept walking, the water soaking higher and higher into my linen shirt.

Low

Just as the third hour rolls into the fourth, the woman stirs on the bed, a low groan echoing through the house and making Anny and I look up from the tabletop we’d both been zoning out to as our backdrop. I hold up a hand before Anny can stand up, hoping she’ll understand and not move or say anything.

Tall(er)

I notice that we’re eye to eye. He’s not actually taller than me like he’s seemed to be. “You keep looking for enemies. Feeling exposed?”

Short

“And maybe I can help you, too.”

For the first time in the, admittedly, short time I’ve known her, Nia looks so very afraid. “What are you talking about?”

Bite

After having to ditch what was left of my rations outside the border, I’d make an offering to the food if I could. Still, I wait for both Manuela and Paolo to start before I take a bite.

Tooth

No matter how powerful The Orchid was, after her interview, Shella knew The Inititor would fight tooth and nail to keep such a scandal out of the news and off Tracker’s back like being queer was bad press.

Mouth

Paolo nods. “I will get more today. But later. The two of you must eat. The water will not go anywhere.” Manuela opens her mouth to argue. “I will bring Anny some of our water. Por favor come, amor.”

Jaw

The tingling starts under my ribcage, a pulse completely separate from my own. From there, it seeks out the foreign connection, this time running down my arm and pushing into the boy’s jaw. In the glow of the last candle, the tendrils connecting us look deceivingly orange, but I know better.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Word Find Tag!

Thanks for the tag, @writingrosesonneptune (here)!

My words were: Glass, Teeth, Red, and Sky

I'll go with Song of Thorns and Supernova Initiative for this one!

Glass (Supernova Initiative)

The strange liquid swirled within the glass syringe with a menacing silver glow. Jack frowned. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh, this little thing? An advanced tracking system of my own creation. To ensure you and your crew complete your mission properly so that you can't slip between my fingers again - all of you will get one of these" The Director gestured to his assistant, who picked up the syringe and moved to stand beside Jack, who glared daggers "Injected into your bloodstream."

Teeth (Song of Thorns)

The sound of gnashing teeth echoed throughout the cavern, the creature's thundering footsteps somewhere above causing pieces of gravel to plummet from the rocky ceiling. Roselyn swallowed a whimper holding onto Renn's hand as they turned to the strange Lantern Keeper. "Okay, how do we get out of here?"

The other girl cocked her head to the side, gesturing somewhere further into the mountains. "It'll be fine, I know a way, but we'll have to be quick and very quiet. C'mon." She started to walk but stopped in her tracks holding out a hand as if expecting a handshake. "Name's Cyriel by the way. Though I think your vampiric friend here knew that."

Red (Song of Thorns)

As, giant mahogany doors of the castle hall swung open, a clacking of boots on the stone floor echoed fiercely. His guest had arrived. The king placed the gold-trimmed goblet on the table, carelessly, a drop of deep red wine staining the precious cloth upon it. He smirked. "Ah, yes, the famed Ghoulsbane. I see you found your way to my palace promptly. Good. I hope you enjoy your accommodations."

The young man shook his head, absentmindedly running a hand across his crossbow, studying the metal gears. "I won't be staying. You said you had a job for me?" Despite addressing the head of state, he doesn't bother with any honorifics.

This causes a hushed murmur to echo amidst the royalty scattered across the hall, until the the King leans forward on the table, silencing his peers with a single gesture of his hand. He didn't look away from the hunter as he spoke once more, his voice venomous as a serpent's tongue. "Yes, I do. Hunting down a certain thief of dhampir blood - one Renn Atrius of a rather considerable disrepute. I'll pay you accordingly, as your talents in dealing with such beasts speak for themselves. I assume you'll make short work of this... nuisance."

"Consider it done," Elveryn answered with a curt nod, twirling a silver arrow between his fingers, before nocking it to the crossbow.

King Larkin smirks, sitting back down on his gilded chair, the chalice of wine upon his hand once more. "Excellent answer, lad."

Sky (Supernova Initiative)

In her room on the spaceship, Cassie lay splayed out on the floor like a small starfish, a fluffy blanket between her and the cold metal of the room as she looked up at the murky, almost starless sky above. It was oddly familiar, the sight, reminiscent of the grimy moons they once called home a few years ago - and not in a comforting way.

The room's door opened with an almost hermetic whoosh of air, and she didn't need to look to recognize the familiar footsteps that followed. "Something on your mind?" Jack asked, sitting down on the floor beside her, leaning against the wall, and handing her a vanilla smoothie.

Cassie shrugs, taking the smoothie in one hand while battling with a stubborn strand of her own hair that insisted on falling into her eyes. "Eh, not really. Just thinking - this place stirs up memories, don't it?"

"I find it's best not to dwell on it." Jack agrees, gently pushing her hair away from her face. He smiles "But really, we'll be outta here soon enough. Artemis says he knows someone that'll fish the ship in no time."

"I hope he knows what he's doing this time" Cassiopeia chuckles.

"He always does - I think. In a weird, gremlin way, he kinda always has a backup plan for most scenarios."

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @little-peril-stories

@the-ellia-west, @winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@the-golden-comet OPEN TAG

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Find the Word Game XXXIV

(Double Feature)

tagged by: @space-writes & @pertinax--loculos!! my words: sleep, breathe, play, exact, plunge, coy, valid, naked, rose tagging: @drippingmoon, @ashen-crest, @zmwrites, @oh-no-another-idea, and open tag! your words: feel, life, burn, pulse, grave, water

(a)sleep (Meridian)—

Warren escorted him through the station to NodeSource headquarters, where a couple of Thrive's guards broke off to inspect the place and make sure it was safe enough for His Majesty. Once it was deemed adequate, they all moved inside to a small room where a terminal was set up, attached to a powered-down, very human-like android chassis sitting in a chair. "He's...lifelike," Thrive said quietly as two guards posted themselves inside the room out of the way of the techs and programmers filing inside as well. "Even while inactive, he's simply...asleep." The chassis had cropped, pale blond hair, a soft face. It didn't look to be any taller than Warren, and it was dressed in a gray NodeSource t-shirt and black jeans. Its hands were placed on its knees and its eyes were closed, short brown eyelashes resting against rounded cheeks. It had fair skin, cool-toned on the pink side, and realistic intermittent freckles peppered on its face and neck. "Guetry loved the model," Warren said, brushing a knuckle over the chassis' hand. Its skin was indistinguishable from the real thing. "They worked on it while he was...they all worked on it together. I came in for the programming." "This is highly impressive," Thrive said, running his fingers through the hair. "I don't think even Slodian obhelians could've done this, not to this level of realism. Admittedly, I feel as if I'm being forward even now touching it like this."

breathe (Aurora)—

Thrive took Warren's face in his hands, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone so severe in the moment, and he looked him right in the eye. "Do me a favor and breathe." Warren did as he was told, inhaling for four seconds and releasing for five. "Go with Sig and their crew. You're extremely vulnerable in this state." "No," Warren said immediately. "No way. I'm not going anywhere, I—" "Please," Thrive interrupted, steady and clear for someone on the verge of panic. "I need you to go. Warren, I need you to go." Something huge rammed into the window, sending a fissure across the glass, and Warren caught the terror in Thrive's eyes that was replaced in an instant with fiery determination as he whipped around to throw a shield into the window at the exact same time as the shattering of the glass into hundreds of pieces that sprayed all around the bridge in the second before the breach barrier prevented them from getting sucked out into space. Warren made a move to jump forward, but Thrive caught him in a blast of force that threw him into the bulkhead and out of the way. He slid down the wall, mildly stunned, and watched, horrified, as a battering ram of dense black fog slammed into Thrive's shield over and over and over. Thrive struggled to keep it in place, but the fog began to bleed onto the bridge. "Oh, god," Warren breathed, trying to scoot further into the wall. "Thrive…!" He turned his head, eyes alight with the orange glow, and the fog poured in around them, pooling on the floor. It gathered at his feet, vines of onyx crawling up his ankles, slithering around his legs. He grit his teeth and dropped the shield, instead sweeping powerful blasts over the fog, dissipating it only for a second or two at a time. Someone has been deceiving you. Warren could do nothing but stare in wide-eyed horror as the tendrils caught one of Thrive's arms and gripped tight enough that he had to struggle to break free. It caught him again, and the determination in his eyes doubled behind the steadily brightening light. And as a vine of black smoke snapped from the ground to wrap around his throat, Warren realized what it was the Emmuli was trying to tell him. "Fight it," Warren said, his voice fracturing. "Thrive, fight it. You've gotta fight it!" But he knew, as soon as the toxin wrapped itself around Thrive's torso and he thrashed wildly about to overthrow it, that the doubt and fear and insecurities had been far stronger than he'd let on. He harbored too much guilt, too much self-loathing, too much hurt to keep the Emmuli at bay. And when the fog swallowed him where he stood, the tendrils snaking into his mouth and down his throat, he made eye-contact with Warren, a hopeless apology welling beneath the orange glow that was snuffed in a second.

(re)play (Meridian)—

Charis shrugged dramatically, face scrunched in a disapproving frown. "I can't get this routine down. I don't have enough talent for something this complicated. I quit, man, I quit!" Warren quirked an eyebrow and snorted. "We just started this choreo today, dude. If you're expecting to perfect any of my routines in less than a half-hour, you're gonna be sorely disappointed all the time." "Don't give up, Char!" Fiorella called across the room during her stretches. "You're really good!" Charis attempted a particular move—a downward thrust of the right elbow that was supposed to slide into a sideways pull while simultaneously crossing his ankles but ended up looking a bit more like an aggressive flail of the arms. He threw his hands up. "See?! Mr. Cougar, I'm so sorry for getting short with you but this is ridiculously impossible and I'm frustrated." "Right," Warren said, facing Charis. "Do that again but in instant replay." He did, resulting in the same flub, and a few other kids stopped hydrating from the fountain to watch in curiosity. After observing carefully, Warren nodded and set his water on the floor away from his feet. "Okay. Start with the fist up." He made his arm into a right angle with his fist pointed up. "You're super excited. Your mom's taking you to that extreme amusement park on Earth that's got eight hundred laws pending to try to get it shut down. Fucking psyched, right?" He brought the elbow down as if he'd just received good news of the slow-motion variety. "Yes! But what—your dipshit brother's running up behind you because he wants to get out the door first. Uh-uh." He tilted his elbow to the side, ramming it into an invisible person running at a glacial speed. "Not today." Charis followed along move for move, entranced. "Hey, I did it!" "Rockstar. Now, the feet," Warren said. He began to cross his left ankle over the right one. "You've really gotta make sure that elbow gets into Yalis' gut so you pop a slide, and...pow!" "Screw you, Yalis!" Charis exclaimed. "You're named after a planet you've never even been to!" Warren laughed out loud and went over the moves with Charis until they became somewhat second nature, after which Charis continued into the rest of the dance with the entire class hyping him up in a circle around him. Warren clicked the remote for the music and joined in the encouragement.

exact (Asylum)—

"That is correct," Thrive said coolly, eyes never leaving Cattaneo's face. "Currently taking the form of a male-presenting human…biological sex classified as H with the markers 3130-B formation 6…you've undergone entu'borah and are, in Earth years, approximately eight-thousand—" Thrive sighed again, shorter and more agitated. He cast his waning attention onto one of the walls. "Yes, that's correct." Cattaneo shoved the tablet away. "Alright, fine. Let's get right down to it, then." He narrowed his eyes at Thrive during a pause in which his forehead began to visibly perspire. "...Would you like to explain why you decided the way to stick it to the Consortium was to murder hundreds of innocent people?" A pit began to open in the bottom of Warren's stomach. Thrive, however, returned his focus to Cattaneo. "I won't dignify that with a response." "D'you see these?" Cattaneo leaned forward and rapped a knuckle against one of the cuffs emitting a steady white glow around Thrive's wrists. "You're the only one in the entire universe with this level of security at current. These were invented because of you. What makes you think we haven't been preparing for this? What makes you think we haven't been gearing up for the exact moment you turned your back on the galaxy, your people, the very oath for which you've supposedly devoted your entire self and soul, 'Protector'?" Thrive slammed his hands down onto the table and also leaned in, causing Cattaneo to recoil before attempting—failing—to reestablish his dominance within their dynamic. Warren's teeth clenched. "I have turned my back on nothing," Thrive hissed. His eyes flashed, quite literally, a brief ribbon of gold ripping through the green of his irises and the voids of his pupils. "It is the likes of you and those clutching your puppet strings in cold, merciless fingers who have turned your backs on me."

plunge (Eternal)—

Mercury turned off the feed and they were plunged into silence. Warren looked at everyone's faces—stunned, horrified, unsure if they could process the last several hours. He realized with a start that Thrive wasn't on the bridge, and he sprinted out into the corridor, skidding to a stop right beside the door to their quarters, which didn't open. He placed a palm on the metal and it slid open for him, shutting immediately once he stepped inside. He crept carefully, not noticing anything out of the ordinary...and then he caught a faint reflection in the false window, toward the floor. He came to a sudden halt and turned sharply to his right as he discovered Thrive sitting against the bed, facing the window, his knees up and his face in his hands. Weeping.

coy timid (Meridian)—

The sight of Thrive on his throne in Leviathan was a rare one, but intimidating nonetheless. Surrounded by vast shadows and shimmering precious metals sculpted into Escherian shapes, draped in an endless cascade of gold fabric that dwarfed his old cape by what appeared to be miles, meticulous strokes of black and gold paint creating intimate patterns of geometry on his tired human face. Warren loved how gorgeous and powerful it made him look. But he hated what it did to him. "Your...Majesty," he said timidly as he entered the throne room flanked by the High Guard. Thrive closed his eyes and sighed, connecting the thin lines on his eyelids to the lines that broke off in opposite directions along his cheekbones. "Please, Warren." "The last time I didn't address you by your honorifics in front of the High Guard, they yelled at me." "I've had a word with them. I don't like this any more than you do." Warren stuffed his hands in his pockets, aware of the cold and gaping distance between them as they stationed on separate ends of the room. "Then tell them to make me a king too or something." "If I had that kind of power, I wouldn't be one myself." Thrive shifted on the throne, sending a shimmering ripple along the cape and cloak dark as night, highlighted by small strips of white LED along the stitching. "The paradox is cataclysmic."

valid (in)accurate (Meridian)—

Warren's voice caught in his throat. "That looks like—" "It isn't." Thrive spun around, scanning the panicked faces streaming past them before pointing at two of the sentries. "Track down Thoeala'laris and Ataneq." "Your Majesty, our jobs are to protect you and the prince—" "Your job is to do what I say," Thrive barked. "Track them down or I will break your spines with a single bare hand and render your already obsolete positions additionally unfeasible." With a nod, the two sentries ran off in the direction of the security office. Warren stood back as Thrive pried the atrium door open, and even then he couldn't have been prepared for what they witnessed. Soldiers of some kind, fully dark and phasing in and out of solidity, aiming strange weapons into the screaming crowd, opening fire. There were dozens of them, and they looked as if someone had taken a vague description of Consortium operatives and molded an inaccurate, shadowy representation of them. Thrive immediately snapped out a blast of force, knocking back an entire group in the midst of phasing out. He did it again, knocking another group away, and their attention diverted to him. He deflected their weapons fire from Warren and himself with a shield. "Gimme a gun," Warren shouted. He caught a rifle thrown to him by a security officer taking cover behind a large bench next to them. "Thrive, go!" They both ran into the atrium, Warren picking off the ghostly figures a few at a time. Thrive lifted stones from a cluster of planters, melting them down and forming long blades with them on the way to his hands. He cast one into the side of a long-range gunman, summoning it back to his grasp in tandem with driving the other blade upward into an intruder's ribs. He swung at a phaser's head and his arm went through, but he recovered in time to send a blade into a sniper aimed down at them from the second floor.

naked (Warpath)—

"Then let's spend whatever time you've got left here fucking each others' brains out." "I'd like to see the remainder of our children at some point if that's alright with you." "No, no," Warren teased. "They're overrated. When you've seen one kid, you've seen them all." Late into the night, once Thrive had reunited with ——— in such a time frame—and after another passionate hour and a half—Thrive stood at the window of Warren's room, stark naked in the light of three moons. He gazed at a point in the distance, thoughts running a mile a minute, and Warren approached him with a light dressing gown. "I gotta tell you something." The silence from Thrive was thoughtful and patient, and he took care in sliding the garment on. His lack of haste was almost a considerate act, a way of quietly conveying that he knew Warren's eyes were on him, his shoulders, his back. The material shifted over his arms and he flexed beneath the material, and it seemed deliberate. Warren stepped up to him, then, couldn't help himself. He slid his arms around Thrive from behind, burying his nose into the space between Thrive's shoulder blades, inhaling him deeply and running his palms over his pectorals. Thrive clasped his hands over Warren's, held him tightly to him. "What is it you need to tell me?" he asked, voice gravel over the liquid gold of his body heat. "Oh, man," Warren groaned, pressing his forehead to the back of Thrive's neck. "This…I dunno how you're gonna take this." "Out with it." "Well…it looks like we could have some in-laws in the future." Thrive turned to him, displacing him long enough to grace him with a deep look of concern and confusion. "Who?"

rose (Aurora)—

Warren moved over to the bathroom and pulled the door open a little, peeking inside to make sure Thrive was okay, and once he caught sight of him, he wasn't quite sure okay was the right word...but he did lose his breath for a minute. Thrive was practically boneless, arms draped over the edge of the tub, and his head rested against the back, eyes half shut and amber light twinkling within them like the dying coals of a fire. His wet hair slicked back, knees drawn to compensate for the sheer length of his legs, his entire frame a painful amalgamation of tense and fully relaxed. "Thrive…?" Warren said in a small voice. Thrive's chest rose with an inhale and his gaze shifted to Warren. The water barely rippled with that movement. They remained in further silence until the base of Thrive's expression shifted, brows drawn tight and eyes becoming despondent. Warren stepped into the bathroom, sliding the door shut behind him, and he pulled his shirt off over his head. Looked at Thrive again to make sure he wasn't overstepping. Thrive hadn't looked away. Warren tossed his shirt to the side, shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped into the bath between Thrive's ankles, making a point not to let the absolute frigid water deter him from his job. He sank in all the way, the water level rising until it reached the rim. "C'mere." Thrive pulled himself up to Warren, touching his face with a ginger hand, and the swirling glow of his eyes only seemed to intensify upon cupping his jaw. He slid his arms around Warren, who shifted to be more accessible, and Warren held him for ages, the relief of his heat from the cold and the emptiness pooling in his chest. After enough time had passed that the water no longer felt as cold, Thrive gently pressed his lips to Warren's. His hands found his waist, holding on with a tight grip, like everything would crumble again if he let him go, and Warren wound his fingers through Thrive's hair to ground himself.

[shadow-space-writes]

find the word

tagged by @ahordeofwasps, thank you! my words are skin, bin, grin, and sin! these words give me claws vibes, so all of these are from that draft.

no-pressure tagging @winterandwords @chauceryfairytales @aalinaaaaaa and @oh-no-another-idea with the words flow, grow, above, and below.

[ID - a red decorative divider]

skin

Rainier’s skin is slick beneath his hands—Vivien wants to open him up and crawl inside; to open himself up so Rainier can fit within his ribcage, curl beneath his heart, in the webs that surround it, safe and sound and devoured.

bin

Vivien’s room is a shoebox. Posters cover one wall—bands, mostly, interspersed with printed-out art and close-up photos of spiders. The bed’s neatly made, though Rainier suspects that’s a special treat just for him, as is the fact that there are no clothes on the floor, cups on the half-sized desk, or litter in the broken wire bin.

grin

“I’m not like. Dressed. For this,” Vivien says. “You’re fine,” Rainier tells him. His eyes rake over Vivien in a way that makes him shiver. “You look great.” “I…so do you.” Vivien ducks his head. He’s never been good at this; shaping sentences that sound like a person might say them, not a flimsy facsimile. “Charmer,” Rainier says, with a grin that makes Vivien’s knees go hollow.

sin

“Corruption implies a level of innate immorality to Pacting that doesn’t exist,” Peter, so adamant about souls, says. “Demons don’t infect you with sin. They just alter your biology to more closely match their own. Where they’re from isn’t like, Hell, or something. It’s just a reality with different physical laws to ours.”

[ID - a red decorative divider]

claws taglist: @belovedviolence @foxboyclit @coven-archives @noblebs @mjjune

@revenantlore @sarandipitywrites @k--havok @asterhaze @verba-writing

@indecentpause @bootstrapparadoxed @olliexwrites @cowboybrunch (ask to be +/-)

[ladytauria]

find the word game

tagged by @kieran-granola! thank you <333

i found all but one of these in 'the sweetness of honey' draft but i decided to check other wips too dfghk

cat (JayTim)

from an alternate draft of 'another night'

Jason enters the Nest looking like something the cat dragged in. He’s dripping wet, hair plastered to his head. A bruise blooms high on his cheek, a fresh cut mars the corner of his mouth. He’s limping slightly and his boots squelch with every step. He looks exhausted. Tim’s heart pangs in sympathy. “Rough night?” he asks, closing his tabs. His report will keep. Jason snorts. “You can say that again.” He drops his helmet on his workstation far rougher than normal before peeling off his gloves and tossing them down too. He kneels. His fingers shake as he undoes the laces of his boots, and he curses under his breath. Tim approaches. “Let me help,” he offers.

sleep (JayTim)

from the sequel to 'empty promises'

Then Jason swallows, and says, “You—uh. You asked about the job?” He almost takes it back—asks Jason how he’s been sleeping, instead; if he reaches for Tim in his sleep the same way Tim has been reaching for Jason. He almost tells him to forget the job, forget the argument. Just come home. Almost.

wet (JayTim)

from chapter 6 of 'the sweetness of honey'

Jason smooths the glob of cream over his skin. Tim shivers; his skin pebbling. Jason watches his nipples pucker, harden, wetting his lips before glancing at Tim’s face again, where Tim watches him through half-lidded eyes. Jason’s flush spreads. Down his neck, over his collarbones. His pussy throbs in time with his pulse—it’s tempting, so tempting, to grind down on Tim’s bulge. He doesn’t. Jason’s arousal isn’t important. What’s important is taking care of Tim, of caring for him even as half as well as he’s cared for Jason.

magic (JayTim)

from 'teenage fantasies side a' in which tim talks jason through one of the fantasies he had about robin ;) it's finished, but i'm waiting to post until i have side b, one of jason's teen fantasies, finished~

Jason can picture it. Being fifteen again, when Robin was losing its magic. When he looked around Gotham, seeing not the people they’d saved—but the one’s they hadn’t. The ones they failed. He’s fighting with Bruce more and more, questioning everything. Even school doesn’t offer an escape. And Dick—well. Dick is great, but busy. Distant. And always fighting with Bruce. He’s lonely. He doesn’t think he’d realized how much, then. And then— There’s Tim, looking at him with bright eyes and flushed cheeks, faintly awestruck and painfully earnest. In Jason’s mind, he’s not 12, 13 as he would have been, but 14. 15, even. Younger than him, but not young.

no-pressure tagging -> @thesandsofelsweyr ; @n1ightw1ng ; @deepwithintheabyss ; & @zeroducks-2

your words are -> glow, dusk, purple, and bright