#also thank you albie for part of the phrasing in this

[voulezloux]

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hello! I am back 😇 could i get another autistic female reader x Gally (possibly a Part Two) where she gifts him a rock she found in the Gardens and he is slightly confused by it but really treasures it. Thank you! 🤍🤍

Part 2 let's goooo

A BIT DIFFERENT PT.2

MASTERLIST | GALLY MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2

SUMMARY: See above. Continuation of part 1. Takes places before the arrival of Thomas.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, Gally's awkward ass, my potentially inaccurate portrayal of autism (again, but yall seemed to like the first one).

It's been about a week since you and Gally started seeing each other.

I'm using the phrase "seeing each other" loosely.

You see, you and Gally are in a weird place. Well, at least he feels like you are. You've not exactly established anything - you know you like each other and you've kissed, but that is literally it.

You still hang out and go about your lives in the Glade, but nothing has changed.

You're kind of fine with that. You've assumed something has been established since you both said you liked each other as more than friends. So, obviously, that means you're more than friends - AKA in a relationship. Right?

Yeah.

That's what you think.

But Gally's neurotypical brain doesn't work that way. He thinks you're in a weird situationship and doesn't know what to do now you've gone back to acting like friends.

You are none the wiser.

"Dude, she likes you - what's the big deal?" Frypan says as Gally loiters around the kitchen; a growing irritation in the cook's opinion.

"Yeah, but we're just... the same. Like, nothing's changed." He leans back against the counter as Frypan prepares the evening's meal behind it.

"I thought you kissed?"

"Yeah - once, and now it's just back to the same old klunk. This is a head-shuck; what am I meant to do?"

Frypan snorts. "I seriously doubt she's doing this on purpose." Gally looks over his shoulder at the boy. "You're probably overthinking it. Now, please shuck off and do your job so I can do mine in peace."

Gally glares as Frypan flashes him a cheeky grin. Rolling his eyes, Gally leaves the cook be.

He thinks about going to visit you for a second, but Alby will have his head if he keeps skipping work like this. He's still a Keeper, even if he is having relationship problems.

So, he returns to work.

You, however, are having the time of your life in the Gardens. You still love your job, and Zart still appreciates having you around (even if you do continue to show him up).

Today is a particularly positive day for you, because you have found a cool rock.

It's dark grey with swirls of whites and browns in it, and it's smooth and heavy in your palm.

It is a very cool rock.

You put the stone in your pocket and decide it would make a great gift. You continue with your day and spend your time awkwardly excited to give the rock to Gally.

After all, Gally means an awful lot to you, and this rock is from the Gardens that you also care about - so obviously, you have to give it to Gally.

So, after you've finished work, you go off in search of the Keeper. Though, that's easier said than done when Gally is having some kind of meltdown.

After some directions from Frypan, you find him leaning against a tree in the Deadheads.

"Gally!" You exclaim, grinning as he sits with his knees bent in front of him, resting his arms on his knees. He looks up at you as you bounce over, his gaze softening and his typical playful smile creeping across his face.

It's an expression you're so used to that you don't even realise that it's out of the ordinary. If Gally were to look at anyone else like that, they'd think he'd lost his mind.

"Hey, (Y/N)." He watches you as you sit down next to him, crossing your legs.

"What are you doing here?" You ask. It's unusual for Gally to be alone in the forest area. Actually, it's kind of rare for Gally to be alone at all. He's always with his little gang - or you.

"Just... thinking, yanno?" He playfully nudges you. "You okay? How was work?" He swiftly changes the conversation.

"Good, as always."

"Good, you learn about any new plants today?"

You shake your head. "Nope, not today. 'Think I've exhausted all the plants in the Glade, now." You grin at him, and he chuckles, shaking his head. "But," you reach into your pocket, "I did find this."

You show him the rock, holding it out in front of you. He glances at it before his eyes flicker back up to your face and then back to the rock.

"A... rock?" He blinks.

"Yeah, I found it in the Gardens. It's a cool rock," he can't fight the smirk that creeps across your face.

"Yeah," he picks it up out of your flat palm and examines it, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. "It's a very cool rock."

He goes to give it back to you, but you wave his hand away. "No, it's for you."

"What?"

"It's a gift... for you."

He grins; it's a genuine heart-felt smile and it sends butterflies through your stomach. "For me?"

"Mhm, thought you might like it."

"Hm, well, you've got me there - it is a very cool rock... But why are you giving it to me?"

You pause, blinking. He's a Builder? You thought he liked rocks?

"Because it's pretty, and I wanted to give my boyfriend a gift - that's not that weird, is it?"

Gally's face falls completely blank. He blinks at you and you can practically see the cogs spinning behind his eyes. "Have I said something wrong?" You're becoming genuinely concerned.

You're not the best at social cues and this is the first time you've misjudged something. So, you're picking up a vibe that you've put your foot in it.

"Gally? You good?"

"Sorry, uhm, I'm your, you said- uh, boyfriend?"

You now blink at him. "Uh, yeah? I thought we likes each other - isn't that what being in a relationship is? Are you not my boyfriend? Shit, have I shucked up?"

"What- no, you've... we just didn't talk about it, so I didn't realise we were... yanno."

You push your lips into a thin line before dropping your head, feeling your face start to go red. "Oh. Sorry - I didn't think- shit."

"No, hey, it's all good - I would love to be your boyfriend. Just wish you woulda told me about it, though."

You snort out of embarrassment, bringing your hands up to your face to hide. "Sorry - well, this is shuckin' embarrassing."

"Nah," he nudges you with his elbow. "It's cute."

You look at him, letting your hands fall from your face, smirking slightly. "Ya know, if anyone else knew how much of a big softie you were, they'd never let it go."

He shoves you, it's hard but still playful. You shove him back, which results in a wrestling match.

You squeal as he pushes you back onto the leaves covering the ground. He chuckles as you try to push him off, even trying to tickle him in the ribs. This is easily cut short when he grabs your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head with ease.

His smiles fades fairly quickly, as his eyes flicker to your lips.

"You know you can kiss me, right?" Your forwardness catches him off-gaurd once again as you take a joking tone. "After all, you're my boyfriend, right?"

He shakes his head, smiling before he leans in. His nose bumps against yours as you squirm under his grips to try and kiss him. He lets out a low chuckle before finally connecting your lips.

It starts off sweet and quickly becomes passionate, with his grip loosening and allowing you to move them around the back of his neck.

He breaks the kiss, looking into your eyes. "God, I shuckin' love you."

Your eyes widen, and he seems shocked himself. He sits back slightly.

"You love me?" You sit up on your elbows and he avoids eye contact with you.

"Yeah... I think I do," he sighs.

You smile, leaning forward and pecking him on the lips. "I think I love you, too."

He grins, and kisses you again, once again pushing you back down into a small make-out session.

"I should give you rocks more often," you giggle when he breaks the kiss.

"You should; it's a very cool rock - I'll treasure it." He pauses, grinning and pecking your lips. "It's obviously very lucky."

Yep, sorry for the embarrassingly long amount of time it took me to write this - my brain has turned to jelly.

Anyway, hope you at least kinda enjoyed this :))

[polis-fandom]

Compilation of pictures of two amazing women: Tuyen Does as Ohval Saran and Rhoda Oforiattah as Aditi, Jesper's mum.

taken from @/tuyen_does, @/kittheyounger and @/daeganfryklind on Instagram.

Absolutely beautiful caption from Daegan Fryklind :

"Sometimes you get to write a thing for a cast you know and love. You know how to lean into their strengths, you know their cadences and turns of phrase, and you know they will embody the script and bring their incredible magic to the day. For 206, we had two tricky roles to fill - Ohval, whom we deliciously meet in 205; and Jesper’s mother Aditi. I can’t thank @tuyen_does and @rhoda.oforiattah enough for the grace and perfection they brought to these two roles. I was barely on set for 206 (another stack of one million thanks to @christinastrain and @gavvy2000 for producing and directing TF out of this episode and also editing goddess @franzismuller) so I got to experience their performances the way you did - bawling my eyes out watching early cuts on my laptop. I also want to send a sidebar thank you to @shccasting - Sophie and Faye were our UK casting agents this season, and I think you’ll agree they managed to bring us the best of the best, from our too clever fox, swashbuckling twins, demolitions expert, and Zhabin siblings, to our young Rietveld siblings, our grisha baddies, and l’il Alby Rollins. Tuyen and Rhoda, thank you thank you thank you for your part in making me ugly cry in my apartment in Budapest, and then again when @joecomposer’s beautiful score joined the mix, then with every goddamn subsequent cut of this episode. I should have bought stock in Kleenex the moment you both were cast. Xx."

Bonus: Response from Tuyen Does

"@daeganfryklind I am speechless. Your kindness and trust in me has been the fuel for the work I was able to do on this show. The love on set is palpable and it was a dream come true to be part of it. Thank you for seeing that something in me that made you say yes. This show touches so many people, and what is it we do if not to do that. ❤️🔥"

and from Rhoda Oforiattah

"Wow Daegan, speechless…what a lovely post to wake up to! Thank you all so much for casting me as Aditi. I have such special memories of my time in Budapest with you all, which I will never forget. It’s been such a privilege and after being a fan of Season 1, feels like a dream to be part of Season 2. Such an exceptional show and you should all be really proud of what you have created💕😘😘"

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Hiii 🥺 if i could ask, how do you outline your works in general? books, short stories, one shots? What are the differences? 🥺🥺

Hey I love this-- here's a little walk through of what I do. Bear in mind I do really heavy outlines-- lets go through it all, okay? It's not as daunting as it may seem

Click keep reading to see an extensive guide to outlining stories!

Books!

So I'm going to use the Maze Runner re-write I'm working on (no one steal my shit I will be sad)

First off, I get all my templates from Evernote they have some really great templates and they range from when you want to plan a little bit and when you want to plan a lot, here is the link !!!! I recomend highly!

I start with the basics. Title, genre, series (yes or no), premise, setting. I add a box to keep my dates (if you see, I'm not good at filling them in, thank god docs keeps a history so I can later. This isn't necessary I just think its fun-- like a scrapbook of my progress!)

I then add a story premise template-- this one's important!!! It's like the shortest summary for when you need to go back while writing and remember things quickly. I add details like slang (ex: the maze runner uses terms that are made up so I need to remember to use them when writing), the main events (inciting and conflict will do), and my main goal!

After this you can choose to add which template will work best for planning the story. Some people choose to do the characters first but I, in this case, chose story because I am drawing off a series that already exists and plan to stick relatively close to that. In any other case I might have planned characters first but it's up to you!

The templates for planning your story range from very in depth to not at all-- I'll lay them out for you and you can choose the best for you!

The least in depth (derived from screenwriting, this method offers just a brief outline of what you want to write, leaves a lot of room for movement as you write) : Story Beats

More in depth but not crazy (goes through all the main parts of your book, lets you focus closer to the details singularly as opposed to part of a whole, a happy middle) : 3-Act Structure

The most in depth, full crazy (plan every chapter, the exact way you want things to plan, note: you may do this and then get thrown a curve ball while writing but that is OK!) : Chapter Outline

Here is an example of my chapter outlines (again, people, don't steal my shit please I beg do not)

As you can see-- I do all the outlines LOL but this is the only one worth showing and it's the only one I focus on when I write. These are about as detailed as I get-- it's important to leave room for your characters to breathe. This is as much their story as it is yours-- if they're trying to do something you should let them do it. Natural flow is always best.

Next I dive into characters (again, you can do this first-- this is like cooking, there's a recipe but season things how you prefer to make it your own!)

First I start with a simple breakdown : The Character Master List

This includes main characters, antagonists, additional characters

An example below :)

After this I get wild-- I only do this with my protagonist(s) (in this case Ellie and Gally) and I go as in depth as I can. Every little thing I can think of about my characters gets written down. To write a book is to know your characters better than you know yourself. Their likes, dislikes, motivations, nervous habits, sleep schedules, every freckle and mole-- all of it. If you know your characters, you know your story. If you love your characters, you love your story.

Here is the template I use, again I strongly recommend : Character Profile / things I added

(On the templates (it's a dousy): full name, age, occupation, situation, motivation, height, build, skin tone, hair, eyes, facial description, prominent features / distinguishing marks, style of dress, mannerisms / gestures, how they perceive themself, one word used to describe themself, one paragraph, self perceived best personality trait / worst trait, self perceived best physical trait / worst trait, how they think others see them, something they would change about themself, one of voice, language / accent, fave phrases, personality, habits, ambition, greatest fear, biggest secret, how does this character get along with other characters, where they were born / grew up, important past events, family, current home, finances, occupation, education, health, religion, interests / hobbies, opinion of people in general, does the character hide their emotions from others?, person they hate most, best friends, love interests, person they go to for advice, person they feel responsible for, person character feels awkward around, person character openly admires, person character secretly admires, most important to character at the beginning / end)

See example, do not steal example (I know, redundant, but necessary)

Finally after characters I move on to world building. This is important! You need to understand the location and time so that you can write an accurate (or not) story!

Again, here is the template : Worldbuilding Basics

(On the templates: story location, time period, climate, geography, borders / what's beyond, architecture style, how do people get around, distinctive sights / sounds / smells, how many people live there, where do they live, how do they make a living, is the economy healthy, what is family life like, history of the place, the political situation, who are the leaders, the languages spoken, how do the people dress, what role does religion / superstition play, what holidays are important, what's the food like, what are the forms of entertainment, how do the younger generations differ from the old)

From here the rest is up to you, these are the things I recommend. As you can see from my screenshots, I do a lot for my planning.

Some other things you can think to incorporate are:

- General ideas (a place to keep things you need to remember while writing: themes, reoccurring motifs and metaphors, notes, scene ideas)

- Things to remember while writing (like general ideas but also not, a place to add notes about your characters, I like to write their habits here and keep it open while writing so that my characters remain somewhat consistent)

- Movie Script (For fanfiction books; I usually write my own dialogue but sometimes the movie does a good job of summing the basics, Ex: Alby goes over the basics of the glade and it made more sense to give him those lines again, can save you heartache)

Annnnnd that's all I do for books-- the outline I shared is about forty pages LOL so it's a lot but in my experience it's worth it!! Again, do what suits you always but this is what I find works.

Short Stories!

Usually my short stories are a very summed up version of the books. I do the chapter outlines and a very basic outline of the characters. In this case what I usually do is put it all in one doc-- outline and work as one.

This is the best example I can use without outing important story details. On the left you can see the headings of each chapter-- I recommend using these so you aren't stuck scrolling helplessly through long fics (trust me, after 25k words it gets insane).

Each of these, as noted above, I flesh out the basic scene set up of the chapter. It helps me keep the goal of what I want to convey so I don't trail off (I have a habit of doing that).

The final thing I recommend is SideNote-- it's a life saver.

Once enabled it allows you to write notes that you can see while writing in order to keep your story consistent. It has and will continue to come in handy!

One Shots!

I don't plan these at all LMFAO

Okay, kidding a little bit? It isn't worth showing because all it is is the basic outline of what I want to write and then I just attack it head on. One shots I usually just write and write and write and let it flow. They serve a purpose at the moment and thus are best written in the moment. My best advice here is to just let go-- you'll thank yourself for it!

I hope this helps, nonnie, and I hope whatever you write is as wonderful as you are! Thanks for trusting me enough to come for advice!!

[prettylittlebrownskingyal]

Hello! Hope you are having a great day!! Happy early holidays!! I’m not completely sure if requests for the winter prompt list are open, but if they are could I please request #68 (winter proposal) with Older!Damian Wayne? If you don’t feel inspired it’s completely fine, you don’t need to do it!! I absolutely adore your writing and every time you post I get super excited, I am thankful that you have blessed us with your amazing writing!!! You are amazing and I hope you know that!! ❤️❤️❤️

Note: You’re soo sweet 💕 Also, my knowledge of arabic is limited to a handful of phrases: ya hayati means my life and ya habib alby means love of my heart. That’s to my knowledge, if it needs to corrected, just let me know. Also, I wrote listening to this (somebody request a brown wedding imma write the shit out of it) Ok I’m done. Hope its alright ❤

Prompt list here.

He needed it to be perfect. It had to be perfect. You deserved a gesture that was flawless and beautiful and unforgettable because that’s what you were. You were his everything. Forget hanging the moon, you were the reason the sun rose in the morning and cried itself to sleep at night; your smile, your laugh, your all-encompassing aura kept the world spinning.

You kept his world spinning. He could never even try to imagine a life without you. It was too painful, too much, too raw. Holding you at night, your nose pressed into his clavicle was like an anchor that kept the nightmares at bay. Your hand, curled into his, squeezing so tight, bled tendrils of anger out of his body; unwrapping the tight ropes of frustration that coiled around him. You were his everything, and you deserved a perfect proposal.

He checks in with Alfred again, nosing around the pots and pans and trays in the kitchen. He keeps fiddling with his tie, breath coming only in shallow pants at the thought of anything that would cause him to falter. All the words he planned to say to you spin round and round in his brain making him dizzy. Despite this, he was filled to the brim with love for you. His heart thrums against his ribcage, so fast and so loud that he could hear it quicken with each breath.

“Master Damian, would you please sit down. You look faint.”

Alfred pushes him into the dining room and stuffs him into a chair. The flower arrangements there are all white: baby’s breath, camellia and Japanese anemone twined together with calla lilies and tulips. All were as white as the fresh snow that covered every inch of the ground outside. Pure and a little unusual in their combination. Just like both of you.

Through the glass doors in the dining room, he could see the glint of low hanging fairy lights, golden like champagne. They were hung in strings by Cass’ expert hand, overlain with little glass orbs of bouvardia and snapdragon. It looked magical and otherworldly. He hopes desperately that you would like it.

He was nitpicking again, tearing into everything that he could see. What if it was too cold? What if you weren’t in the right mood? What if you didn’t love him as much as he loved you?

And then he knew he had to pull himself back. To reel it in. Because that was a dark thought. He knew you loved him. You poured adoration and love and comfort out with every touch, kiss and look shared. Every moment with you was hazed with the soft pink glow of it. Every moment with you was precious. God, he hoped it came close to perfect.

When the doorbell rings and the old wooden doors are pulled open with a clatter, he couldn’t help but feel like someone replaced all the bones in his legs with jelly. For a moment he’s stuck, sweat clings to his forehead and temples despite the cold and his heart is so scared that it’s taken up residence in his throat.

“Dami?” the sweet, dulcet tone of your voice pulls him back like it always does. Just the sound of you and his whole body unfurls, tension dissipating like wisps of smoke. He can do this. He needs to do this. He needed to marry you like yesterday.

“In here,” he calls, steeling himself for the sight of you. Trying to prepare himself for the way you knock him off his feet.

And yet, as your gentle footsteps reach the hall, your shadow preceding you, he knows he’ll never be prepared for the beauty you hold. He can never grow tired of it, never find it ordinary. You belong in the works of Runge and Rembrandt. A work of art that he could never fathom.

He’s drawn you so many times, knows all your curves and edges like strokes of a paintbrush, like the scritch of a pencil on a sketchpad. All the time he’s spent looking at you, trying to capture your essence, and your smile still manages to melt his brain. To make his cheeks flush with colour and his breath catch in his throat.

“Did you do all of this?” you gesture to the flowers and the lights outside.

“Cass and Dick helped,” he admits, reaching an arm out to pull you in. “Happy Anniversary, ya hayati.”

“This is…” your voice trails, eyes going glassy, “It’s perfect. I can’t even…thank you, gorgeous.” you whisper the words into his chest and the relief that floods him is like the first gasp of air after drowning.

“Can we step outside? There’s one more thing I have for you.”

He leads you out the door with sweaty palms, struggling to remember the speech he had planned. You stop in the middle of the deck. Your skin is flushed out by the snow and coloured gold by the lights. You stop, eyes slowly drinking it all in, hands clasped as though you’re beckoning to some higher power. He takes a moment to capture the image of you; it’s something so prepossessing. Something that makes his hands itch to paint.

He draws in a deep breath, mutters a final prayer to God before dropping to one knee, head bowed at your mercy. “Beloved. Ya habib alby, there are no words. None in any language that can describe the way I feel about you. I have spent so much time searching. So much of my life, trying to be a soldier, a hero and a brother. With you, I’ve never had to try. With you, I could just be.”

“Dami-”

“I know, I know,” he whispers, voice cracking as tears come running down your cheeks. “Let me just say this; you are a part of me. Even if I was cut open and bled dry, my heart would still beat only for you, only for your love. You’re my whole world, my best friend. You’ve taken me as I am. You deserve every star in the universe, my love. Every one.”

His hands tremble as he takes out the ring, it glitters with hope in his shaking fingers as you let out a raw sob. “Will you do me the honour–”

“Yes! Yes! Of course,” and your kissing him. He fumbles with the ring, slips it on just before you wrap your arms around his neck. Something bursts inside him, like a dam that’s been churning for too long and as you sob; salty, wet, happy tears into the kiss he holds you tight. Eyes stinging with emotion.

It’s a ridiculous sight; both of you in expensive clothes on the cold, snow-covered ground, laughing and crying and kissing. The furious clicking of a camera followed by squeals and giggles tells him that his family is watching, documenting the moment for you. He’s grateful for it. For them. For you. It was perfect, just as it needed to be.

[mf-despair-queen]

On Your Left - Thomas

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Thomas/Reader

Word Count: 4754

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Kinky Thomas, Orgasm Denial, Oral (both receiving), Choking, Captain America quotes hidden throughout 

Notes: This is what happens when I ask the girls what they want me to write next. They say “Write Thomas! Make it kinky!” 

Minho was officially your mortal enemy.

It was no question that you were not the best runner in the glade. In fact, you were the worst. No athletic ability what-so-ever. Yet, here you are, running laps around the entire glade with everyone else.

Why were you doing this?

Minho apparently awoke early one morning, screaming about some nightmare he had about the grievers attacking everyone. He was so panicked that he had “seen the future,” he convinced Alby that everyone needed to do daily runs and training to be ready for an emergency.

So, for the third day in a row, you were stuck running laps around the glade, watching as everyone passed you.

Multiple times.

What irked you the most was every time Thomas passed you. Of course, he was already a million laps ahead of everyone it seemed. They didn’t agree to make him a runner for nothing. But every time he passed you, you would hear the same phrase.

“On your left.”

The first couple of times he did it, you thought it was cute, funny even. You always saw the cute smirk that graced his lips in passing, the morning sun reflecting off his shirtless figure. His whiskey eyes glowed mischievously, as if knowing he was pressing your buttons every time.

Honestly, you couldn’t take your eyes off the boy. Having a crush on him didn’t help any.  This handsome distraction caused many…downfalls on your part. Tripping over nothing, running into trees. You accidentally fell into the pig pens at one point, face first into a pile of shit. Literally.

Today, you weren’t putting up with his shenanigans. He had done this for three days; it was time to show him who was boss. Your eyes followed him as he lapped everyone, heading straight towards where you were panting heavily. You watch the smirk befall his lips, like always. But this time, you were ready for him. He was nearly by your side, his mouth opening to say your three least favorite words, when you stuck your foot out, tripping the runner.

Thomas tumbled to the ground, coming to a rest a few feet from you. The entire glade watched Thomas eat shit, bursting out into a sea of laughter. Thomas slowly got to his knees, touching his forehead. His fingers were covered in dirt and blood, his face contorting in anger. He glanced at you, seeing your smirk as you ran around his left side, heading towards the kitchen for breakfast.

“On your left, Thomas.”

You missed the look of anger he sent your backside, spitting some of the dirt that lingered in his mouth to the ground. He slowly got up, limping towards the homestead to get checked out from his fall.

“You’ll pay for this, princess.”

You were glad you didn’t have to see Thomas all afternoon. Jeff and Clint told you about how Thomas ranted the entire time they were cleaning his wound about what you had done.

You weren’t going to lie. Part of you was elated that he was so ticked off about the entire ordeal. He had deserved it for being a prick about everything.

A knot grew in your stomach, however, as sunset approached. The runners were returning from their day, heading to the map room to log their routes. You hid behind the corner of the Homestead, watching Thomas head there himself, a scowl evident on his face. You could see a bandage wrapped around his forehead from the fall.

“What are you doing, squirt?” The voice behind you caught you by surprise, a squeak escaping your lips as you fell to the ground in shock. Minho stood over you, laughing his puny ass off. “That was funny.”

“Oh look. It’s my least favorite person in the universe. The biggest shuckface ever! What do you want, Mean Hoe?” You stood up, brushing off the shirt you wore. Minho gave a disapproving look at the name, trapping you in a headlock.

“So why are you spying on my runners as they are returning?” You let out a little whistle, signaling that you weren’t saying anything. “Fine. Be a slinthead. See if I care to tell you what Thomas was telling me at lunch today.”

You spun in arms, grabbing him by the shirt to shake him vigorously. “What did that shank say? Tell me, you Mean Hoe!”

Minho grabbed your arms, steadying himself as you stopped shaking him. “God, I hate you sometimes. I dunno if I want to tell you now. You’re not very nice.” The look on your face was merciless, Minho laughing in fear and scratching the back of his head. “Well, if you put it that way though! He was just ranting about how he was angry that you embarrassed him as bad as you did this morning. He also may have mentioned that he was going to get back at you, so you may want to watch your lil ass.”

You sighed, shaking slightly at the thought of what Thomas could be planning. “Thanks for the heads up. I’m still not forgiving you for the morning runs. And my ass is not little, Mean Hoe!” You ran off to the kitchen right as Frypan was alerting the glade that dinner was ready, missing Minho’s angry mumbles.

Your eyes found Thomas’ as he was leaving the map room. Even from afar, you could see him glaring daggers at you, making you swallow. Your throat was tight and dry, fear coursing through your body.

Maybe you were starting to regret what happened this morning.

You slipped into the shower after dinner, making sure none of the guys were around. It was always a hassle when you tried to shower at night because they always tried to sneak a peek.

You slipped off your muddy shorts and tank, turning the water on. Your fingers grazed the water, a chill running up your shine as the cold water ran over your skin. Oh, how you wished for a warm shower.

Your bra and panties ended up in the pile, your figure stepping under the makeshift showerhead completely. Goosebumps covered your body, but you were glad to be getting clean after how today had been.

You opened your eyes slowly, wiping water away from your face, to come face to face with Thomas. His hand shot over your mouth before you had a chance to scream. He backed you into the wall, the water raining down over him and soaking his hair and clothes.

You couldn’t stop your eyes roaming over his wet form briefly. His shirt now stuck to his skin, letting you make out every perfect curve of his muscles. His hair was flat against his forehead, the water dripping off his chin. His tongue would slip from his lips, wetting his already moist lips more than needed. His pants clung to his legs, a small tent forming in his crotch. His entire being

His lips neared your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin. “You thought you were funny this morning, princess? You’ve been kind of naughty, so I think we need to punish you.”

You let out a whimper, his hand muffling the sound entirely. His lips trailed down the side of your face, biting at your neck. The feeling of his teeth nipping at your flesh sent you spiraling, a knot already forming in your stomach. Liquid dripped down the inside of your leg, and you weren’t sure if it was water anymore.

His free hand found your breast, tugging the hardened nipple between his fingers. Your legs trembled at the feeling, His hand grabbing your breast tightly. “You like that don’t you, princess? You like when I play with your tits like this?”

Your head nodded quickly, feeling his tongue lap over your left breast. “I think this is my favorite one. It’s the one I always see the side of while we are running every morning. Your top is always loose enough to give me the perfect side boob shot whenever I run by.” He took the nipple completely in his mouth, biting at the nipple. Your scream was muffled, the heat building between your thighs. Your legs rubbed together, trying to relieve the pressure as he continued his assault on your left breast.

His free hand traced small circles on your stomach, leading its way toward your pussy. Shoving his hand between your legs, two fingers slipped in between your folds, pumping leisurely to prolong your suffering. Thomas could feel your walls clenching desperately at his fingers, trying to feel the contact his hand wasn’t providing.

He panted against your breast, licking around the nipple before he spoke. “Fuck, princess. Who knew I turned you on so much. You’re completely soaked in here. I can’t wait to taste your sweet pussy. Because your sweet pussy belongs to me now.”

You mumbled incoherently against his hand, your nails digging into the wall behind you. He glanced up at you, licking his lips. “If I remove my hand, you have to promise not to scream. Deal?” The eager nod was all he needed for his hand to come off your mouth, a filthy moan passing your lips once free.

“Thomas, please. I need you to do something. I can’t stand this feeling.” His head dipped forward, biting your shoulder as his fingers picked up their pace. Your head fell back, your mind reeling at the way his fingers pumped you relentlessly. He could feel your wall aching for more.

He pulled his fingers from you, holding them up to your lips. “As part of your punishment, princess. Taste yourself.” You didn’t seem to hesitate, your mouth wrapping around his fingers, letting your tongue swirl around his digits. You heard a faint groan pass his lips. “Fuck me. That was hot.”

Removing his digits from your mouth, he dropped to his knees, placing long licks along the entire length of your folds. You let out a loud moan, causing Thomas to look up at you. “Princess. You need to keep quiet for daddy. Otherwise, someone will find us.” He placed one more kiss to your folds, before showing his tongue deep into your pussy.

Your hands threaded through his wet, chocolate locks, tugging at the roots every time you felt his tongue press further into you.   You couldn’t keep you moans under control. The more he ate you out, the louder your moans became. He squeezed your thighs, sliding his tongue to your clit, tracing his name along your sensitive nub.

“Oh shit Thomas.” Your voice was just a gasp, barely able to catch your breath. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, the knot in your stomach clenching sporadically.

He smirked up at you, blowing on your clit. “What do you have to say for yourself about earlier today?”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, feeling the featherlight kisses he places along your thighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Now please Thomas.”

You felt his mouth twitch against your skin before he stood up and backed away from you. You mouth fell open as you watched him grab a towel, rubbing it over his hair and face. “Good to know. See you around, princess.”

You didn’t have time to retort as he dashed out the door. You were left there, body trembled, mouth agape, water trickling down your body from the shower that was left running. This was his way of getting even at you?

Your head leaned too far back, slamming into the wall with a loud thump. “This is so not fair.”

“Y/N?” Your eyes shot to the person staring dumbfounded at you. Minho’s eyes traced your body, stopping at your chest and crotch. You quickly grabbed a bar of soap, chucking it at his head.

“GET OUT, MEAN HOE!”

He tormented you for days after that. Not only had he left you hot and bothered, he would give you these looks every time he caught you looking his way.

He still taunted you every morning, running on your left every time he passed you. He noticed how you would tug your shirt closer to you every time he ran passed, covered the side boob he craved to see. His taunts didn’t stop there, however. He would purposefully sit next to you during meals, his hand finding its way to your thigh or tracing random shapes on your skin with his fingers. He would walk around the glade shirtless, complaining about how hot it was.

Every time he was near you, your core ached, longing to feel him there again. You were itching for him to finish what he started. You had started masturbating just to get him off your mind, but it only seemed to fuel this longing you had towards the shuckface that caused you to feel this way.

You stared at him as he helped Newt with some of the gardening. It was, of course, his day off and he decided he was bored and wanted to help Newt out.

Shirtless. Like he always was lately. Just to drive you insane.

Your legs rubbed together as you bent over to collect the herbs for Jeff and Clint. You could feel your shorts riding up your ass each time, increasing the amount of fidgeting you were doing. You were already horny, the last thing you needed was the constant pressure on your pussy.

Thomas was watching from the corner of his eye, licking his lips every time he saw the curvature of your ass from the bottom of your shorts. He had to adjust himself a couple times, trying not to show the evident indenture of his giant dick in his pants. Eventually, he heard you huff in anger, watching Newt stop what he doing to look over at you.

“You ok over there?” Newt asked, watching you stomp your feet like a child.

“I am so done with today! It’s hot. I’m uncomfortable. I am going back to my hut and curling up in my bed!” Thomas knew you were hot and bothered, a sly smirk evident on his face. Newt watched you throw your tantrum, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You still have work today. What am I supposed to tell Alby when he finds out you are skipping out?”

You gave a cheeky smile, turning on your heel to head to your hut, calling over your shoulder, “Tell Alby “When you gotta go, you gotta go.” He’ll know what I mean.”

Thomas cocked his head at Newt, hearing the boy sigh. “And that means…?”

“Time of the month.”

Thomas stared after your, distracted by your form as you disappeared into your hut. “Hm…”

Your back slid against the door once it was closed, clenching your eyes shut. You had already started huffing, panting to get air. Your body was aching more than usual, and it was bothering you. Stumbling towards your bed, you shimmied from your shorts, kicking them into a pile in the corner with your panties following suit.

Your body fell on the creaky bed, letting your fingers travel down your stomach to your core. The tips grazed your clit multiple times, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth to stifle your moans. You didn’t want to be caught like this while skipping work for the day.

Your thoughts roamed back to Thomas, remembering how it felt when he ran his skilled tongue over your breasts and into your pussy. You recalled how he looked while he was working today, the sun glistening on his toned upper body, his biceps flexing whenever he moved objects.

Your fingers slipped into your pussy, thinking about his veiny hands and what dirty things they could do to you. You imagined it was his fingers pumping you, letting your fingers jerk you rapidly. You couldn’t suppress a few of the moans that filled the air, feeling the wet juices coating your fingers.

“Holy shit, princess.”

You froze at the sound of your door shutting, Thomas standing in the room. His orbs were locked on you, dark with lust. He had finally put on a shirt, the fabric sticking to his sweaty body perfectly. You grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his head. “Get out, Thomas!” He caught the pillow easily, dropping it on the ground as he took quick strides towards you.

His body rolled against yours, his hips pressing into yours. You could feel his cock pressing against your core through his pants, a small gasp escaping your lips. You watched his tongue pass over his lips before he connected his mouth to yours.

You were shocked, returning the rough kiss he was giving you after a moment of hesitation. Your arms wound around his neck, pulling his body down onto yours. The kiss was sloppy and rushed, your teeth clashing against his. Your hands were tangled in his hair, tugging at it constantly.

He broke the kiss, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you together. “Did I make you nice and horny, princess? So horny that you had to sneak off just to finger yourself?” You tried to rub your legs together, but Thomas was in the way. You bucked your hips against him, desperately trying to get some friction. “Did you imagine that it was my hand down there?”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. If you are going to fuck me, just do it already! Because if you aren’t, kindly leave so I can get myself off at the thought of your sexy body.” A blush tinted your cheeks at what you said, but it was all true. You were tried of him toying with you and right now, you just wanted an orgasm.

“Oh? Is that what you think about me? Give me one good reason I should fuck you silly right now? Why, pray tell, should I give you the most heavenly orgasm you’ve ever had?” His tone was sexy and dark, the words rolling off his tongue like silk. You felt the waterfall of liquid that was pooling between your legs, soaking into his pants as he pressed his hips into yours.

“You want my reasoning?” You gasped, bucking your hips into his and throwing your head back. “All you’ve done lately is tease me. After the night in the shower, I can’t think of anything but you. You’re a complete asshole, but I just want you inside me all the time. I’ve liked you for so long, and this is the one chance I have to act on it. So please, Tommy. Please.”

Thomas let out a groan, pushing his lips to yours once more. His hand tugged your shirt up to rest above your breasts, slipping it under the bra you were wearing immediately after. He fondled your breast, pinching at your nipple whenever he got the chance. Your moans were drowned by his lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth when he got the chance.

His started to trail kisses down your jaw, your head angling in a way to allow him more access to your throat. He sucked harshly along the expanse of skin, leaving multiple marks in his wake. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pocket knife, flicking it open long enough to cut the shirt and bra you wore. His eyes lingered on your chest as he watched your breasts fall free, the nipples hard as soon as they encountered the air.

“You have the best tits, princess,” He mumbled, biting his tongue to silence the noises he wished to release. You let your fingers roll over your breasts, crying out his name in pleasure. “Oh yeah baby. Just like that”

He left you to play with your tits, trailing his tongue down to your folds. He let out small puffs of air against your cunt, catching sight of your grip tightening on your tits. You let out small mewls as he swiped his tongue along the folds, settling it finally into your cunt. You let out a scream, your body trembling at the feeling.

He pulled away to give you a look. “Princess, we went over this already. You have to keep quiet, or someone will find us. I can’t enjoy your sweet pussy if you alert everyone to our actions.”

You let out a small smirk, propping yourself on your elbows to look down at him. “Sweet pussy? So, you like cats?” He gave an unamused look, flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your ass into the air.

The palm of his hand rested on your ass, caressing the skin underneath it. “Maybe I should punish you. You are nothing but a naughty girl, princess. Now, I want you to count out loud for daddy. Don’t miss a beat.”

His hand slapped across your ass, the echo from the contact of skin rung in your ears. “One.”

Another slap, causing a gasp from your lips. “T-two.”

Three consecutive slaps, each harder than the last. You ass was stinging, tears prickling your eyes. “Three. Four. Five.”

You felt his finger brush along your folds, a shiver running up your spine before another slap was heard. “S-six.”

The finger slipped inside your pussy, curling into your g-spot and rubbing at it repeatedly. You moaned into the bed, staggering when he slapped again. “S-Seven.

His fingers picked up speed, feeling your body beginning to spasm under him. Three slaps, and your body couldn’t handle it any longer. You barely could get out the “Eight. Nine. Ten” as you came all over his fingers, feeling yourself flow down your thighs.

“Damn princess. You came pretty hard. You think you can keep going?”

Your body shook, holding yourself up carefully. “I can do this all day. Keep it coming, daddy.”

Thomas muttered a few curses as he jumped off the bed, pulling his shirt over his head. You swear you felt a small dribble of drool as you stared at his six pack abs, eyes scanning over the bits of hair on his chest and the down his stomach into his pants. Sitting on the edge of the bed, your shaky hands reached for his jeans, tugging him closer by the belt loops.

You fumbled with the button on his jeans, kissing along his happy trail, “Let me please you, daddy. I can show you I’m a good girl sometimes.”

Thomas moaned, running his hand through your hair and you tugged at his pants and boxers, helping get them off his ankles and across the room. You watched his giant cock slap his stomach once free, bits of precum leaking from the tip. Your tongue ran over it, gathering the salty liquid in your mouth. His hips jerked towards you, shoving himself in your mouth a little bit at a time. Tracing your tongue along the underside of his cock, you could feel the veins pulsing at your motions. Your moans vibrated his cock, making him twitch occasionally. You pumped what couldn’t fit in your mouth, your sucking increasing.

He pulled from you before you could finish him, motioning for you to turn around. “I want to be inside you. Ass up, princess.”

You did as he told you, rubbing your ass against his cock. His feet were planted firmly to the floor, rubbing his dick against your folds a few times before slipping inside you. Your eyes shut tightly, sharply inhaling at the feeling. Thomas wasted no time, snapping his hips into yours, rocking his body against yours at godlike speeds. Every thrust was like heaven, your walls tightening around him more each time. His tip hit all your sensitive spots.

Thomas’ hand ran up your spine, feeling the goosebumps that he caused all over your body. He listened to the mewls you let out with ever jerk of the hips, clamming into you faster and harder than before. “Come on baby. You can be loud now. I want to hear you scream my name. Tell the entire glade who is pleasing you.”

He got to your hair, giving it a swift tug as you let out a small scream, not loud enough to please him. He stilled inside you, listening to your protests. “I said I wanted it loud, princess. I want the glade to know only I can fuck you.”

He pulled from you long enough to flip you on your back, not pausing for a second as he slammed back into you. His movements were unwavering, plunging his cock into you without reserve. He leaned forward, one hand on the bed to hold him up while the other wrapped around your neck. He placed light squeezes to your throat, feeling you swallow as he action turned you on more. He felt his cock slip easier inside you as you became more wet than before.

Your toes curled, wrapping around his waist. Your heels dug into his back, helping shove him as far into your pussy as he could. Your breathing became hard, his hand around your throat constricting your airflow enough to make you see black spots. The knot in your stomach tightened before you felt it explode in one shot. Your back arched as the waves of pleasure rolled through your body. Your eyes rolled back into your head, a loud scream of Thomas’ name erupting from your throat. Your walls clenched around his cock, making it harder for him to move.

You could feel his dick twitching against your walls as you came down from your high, mind blank from the orgasm you experienced. His hand pulled from your throat, helping to support himself as his thrusts became sloppier. You could barely make out the “fucks” he kept mumbling, mixed with you name. Your mouth was too dry to respond.

He pulled from you, fisting his cock till long strands of cum spewed across your stomach and breasts. His arms were shaking, trying to hold himself up as the last bits of his seed dripping from his tip, landing on your folds.

Grabbing the closest thing he could – his shirt – he cleaned the cum that covered your body, placing a swift kiss to your lips when he finished.

“Tommy,” you breathe out quietly. You saw him quirk an eyebrow at you while he shifted your body completely onto the bed. He laid down next to you, entwining your fingers with his. “You couldn’t have done that earlier?”

He let out a small laugh, covering his eyes with his arm. “I hate you. You’re ridiculous.”

You cuddled into his left side, resting your head on his chest. You drew invisible shapes along his skin, relishing the feeling on him next to you. “I find it hard to believe you hate me. Would you have fucked me if you hated me?”

He hummed softly, placing a kiss to your forehead. “Maybe you caught me. I may have been taunting you because I’ve always liked you. Not just because you’re the only girl here. You’re…special. I know it probably wasn’t the best way to approach you, but it got you to notice me.”

You giggled, glancing up at him. “That’s smart. Good strategy.”

He rolled his eyes, a smile gracing his lips. “Don’t be a smartass.”

You kissed his cheek, letting your lips linger. “You know you love me.”

He nodded, turning to capture your lips in a brief kiss. “I do. I do love you.” His lips were close enough to feel them move as he talked, a blush heating your cheeks. “I’m sorry I was a dick.”

Your tongue brushed over his lips, hearing him let out a small whine. “You were a dick. But so was I. I shouldn’t have tripped you. I just got angry because you kept being there. You were distracting. But, after what happened in the shower, I kept wanting you there. You were always running through my mind. I guess you lap me physically and mentally.” He chuckled, nuzzling into your cheek. “I guess I’ trying to say I’m sorry. And I love you too.”

“Good,” He pulled you close, rubbing his hand up and down your arm to help you relax. “Let’s get some sleep now. You wiped me out with your sweet pussy.”

You rolled your eyes, too tired to retort. Closing your eyes, you held the runner close to you. “Thomas. One last thing.” You heard a light “hm,” knowing he was listening. “On your left.”

His smile widened, burying his face in your hair. “Right where you belong.”

[junker-town]

After Ozzie Albies’ contract, MLB may never value players the same again

Ozzie Albies’ contract is terrible by old MLB standards, but it just might become the norm in the league’s new era of austerity.

The Ozzie Albies contract extension was hard to miss, even in the flurry of other long-term deals we’ve seen for players scrambling to avoid free agency. The Atlanta Braves have locked up — an on the nose, but accurate turn of phrase here — their 22-year-old second baseman to a contract that is worth at least $35 million over seven years, and $45 million over nine if the club exercises two option years. It’s an implausibly team-friendly deal that stands out in a year of implausibly team-friendly deals:

It's typical that agents criticize competitors' deals. But I've now heard from executives, players, analytics people, development side and scouts who are saying the same thing: The Ozzie Albies extension might be the worst contract ever for a player. And this is not hyperbole.

— Jeff Passan (@JeffPassan) April 11, 2019

Albies came into 2019 with five years of team control remaining. This contract paves over those five years, which would have included a significant string of raises as he hit his arbitration-eligible seasons, plus a possible four years of free agency. According to Dan Szymborski at Fangraphs, Albies’ projected value over the next nine seasons is somewhere in the realm of $280 million. Even if you think ZIPs is too bullish on Albies, it’s not hard to remember a time when $45 million deals were being handed out like candy to mediocrities. Which Albies is not.

But let’s go back to $280 million. How does an analyst get to that number? Simple: project the number of wins a player is worth, then convert that number into dollars based on historical spending per team games won, which comes up to around $10 million per win for recent seasons*. And Voila! You get Value, of which Albies appears to have left some $200-plus million on the table.

*In Albies’ case that number has to be adjusted for his league minimum and arbitration years.

So what gives? Obviously, Albies is free to sign whatever contract he damn well pleases, and despite the hand-wringing over the exploitative nature of the contract, $45 million is enough to secure his family’s future. The new deal also accelerates his earnings over the next two years, during which he’d have earned an MLB-minimum salary otherwise. That a player who went pro for $350,000 might be tempted to sign such a deal is obvious. It’s what he gave up that’s perplexing.

The money left on the table gives the Braves some serious payroll flexibility, especially when combined with the team-friendly deal Ronald Acuña signed at the beginning of the month. With two key pieces secured for the long run, Atlanta are in position to make plays at the biggest free agents in baseball, potentially setting themselves up for several championship runs starting as early as next year. Remember, according to traditional baseball economics, every $10 million saved is the potential for an extra win.

Here’s the thing about that calculation, however: It’s based in the old world. Traditional baseball economics worked on an incomplete relationship between wins and dollars — having grown up during an age of regular, inflationary spending — and built up tools equipped to handle that environment by repeating the context back to us. Those tools, however, fail under different regimes, and no longer work in a new world where Ozzie Albies is getting paid $5 million a year for the better part of a decade.

The understood relationship between dollars and wins is a historical one. Wins have been worth what teams have been willing to spend to get them, rather than having any sort of inherent value. Purely descriptive relationships, however, can present a false reality, deluding us into thinking that the link is causal rather than coincidental. In truth, thanks to the dizzying combination of TV rights deals and revenue sharing, team income and team wins are only loosely correlated.

Certainly, a winning team makes more money: the Braves’ own financial statements for 2018 claim that “for the full year 2018, baseball revenue grew primarily due to increased ticket sales and concession revenue, as well as post-season revenue,” and due their status as a publicly traded company, they’re about the only baseball team you’d take on their word there. But now we’re looking at a second- or third-order relationships, one that produces results significantly lower than our nice, linear $10 million per win however you slice it.

This is bad for baseball players, who’ve been conditioned to deal with six years of movement restriction in the hope that they’d make up the lost early-career earnings by tapping into the free agency money hose. Now that that hose has dried up, early extensions are going to become more and more common, and more and more team-friendly. The decision to give up vital years of free agency makes far more sense in a world in which free agency is dead.

It’s also bad for fans. When payroll, income, and winning were linked by a coherent thread, we could at least expect teams to spend money to win and therefore make more money. With the relationship between winning and extra profit now so tenuous, it’s unclear whether it’s in anyone’s best business interests to try to win at all. Sports have always been a means of extracting money from communal excitement, but rarely has it looked so cynical.

In the long run, this situation will probably also be bad for baseball as a whole. TV deals will have to be renegotiated eventually, and with less than half the league trying at any one time, throwing money at teams will becoming less and less appealing. There’s also the looming prospect of a player strike as they watch owners’ profits balloon while their share of the pie drops.

It’s too early to accurately predict how all this will turn out. We’re barely 15 months removed from the first dismal sputterings from the previously reliable free agency machine, after all, and nobody — teams, analysts, nor players — have had time to properly adjust. But what we do know, and what the Albies deal tells us more clearly than anything we’ve previously seen, is that a new regime is here, and that our old ways of thinking are not up to coping.