#and a pen i guess for tracing the pattern paper onto the felt/fabric

[dandyshucks]

idk if the process is actually interesting to anybody but i like to show it so I can make the project more accessible to ppl!! and maybe other ppl will see it and realize "hey i could do that too!" and make more art :]

[iamdyeing]

POKÉMON EGGS

I made some plush eggs as gifts for some of my friends this past Christmas and completely forgot to post about it, but here’s the post now!

I will go over my personal plush process below the cut, but I wonder if you can guess who these pokemon are before you reach the end of the post?

First, I bought some minky-like polyester fabric, along with some RIT dye-more synthetic dyes to get specific colors I might not have found at my local store. I cut egg shells and some rough blocks for the patterned bits and dyed a lot of it.

Once things were dyed, I began to cut out the pattern parts: spots, stripes, rings, etc. I used basic paper for special stencils and free-handed the designs, traced them on the back or wrong side of the fabric with a pen. Then, very carefully, I cut just barely outside the lines with some sharp scissors.

Once this was done, I began to pin the parts to the shells where I wanted them and then top-stitched them onto the shells, about 1/8th-1/4th of an inch or as close as I comfortably felt like getting to the edge of each piece without risking my machine eating the whole thing (it tried to twice because I was rushing).

I sewed the shells together, snipped up to the seams on each side of the shell up to but not on the seams, so as to keep the eggs round as possible, then flipped them inside out. Here they are all folded neat and nice together.

Finally, I stuffed them until they were nice and firm with polyfil, and hand sewed them shut with my best attempts at an invisible stitch. Then I had a handful of pokemon eggs ready to be loved and cared for by some new trainers!

When I wrapped them up, I made some tags with card stock and ribbon and wrote some dex entries and care tips for them!

When the actual time came, they were all so thrilled, and that in turn made my heart soar. I have made many crafts but this project really pushed me out of my comfort zone and I had quite a lot of fun making them. I hope that this project inspires you to go and make your own pokemon inspired crafts!

If you made it this far bc you’re interested in these, I have made some other pokemon egg plushies before, a Basic 2km GO styled egg, a Cleffa egg and Pichu and Skorupi eggs.

And if you were stumped by any of the pokemon eggs, from left to right starting from the top row in picture one, they are Eevee, Alolan Vulpix, Gothita, Corphish, Pumpkaboo, Paldean Wooper and Caterpie. If you managed to guess them all correctly then congrats! The only prize for that is satisfaction on your knowledge of pokemon :)

I do plan on making some more in the future, namely another Alolan Vulpix and Eevee egg for me, because those two were my favorites of the batch, but also a Happiny and a Togepi egg like from the anime. What were your favorite eggs that I made and what would you like to see in the future? Lemme know in the comments!

[atinywriting]

Bloody Pen | Wooyoung Serial Killer AU Chapter 4

For the Love of Art

As Hongjoong turned his back and left to question the officers, he was unfortunately unaware of the smirk on Wooyoung’s face. Wooyoung released the breath he held in and curled his fingers. The tension in his body relaxed.

He couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. No one would suspect him.

There was no doubt Hongjoong was smart from the various cases that Wooyoung had worked with him. But... it was also quite easy to manipulate logic. It was easy to fabricate the old trio tale of “motive, means, and opportunity”. After all, the best way to tell a lie was to tell parts of the truth.

Wooyoung was honest and truthful as long as the case didn’t involve himself. If it did involve himself, who would suspect a person helping out with the investigation? Especially one who had helped solve many cases for a long time. No one. No one could ever guess, not even fathom with the idea that he himself had tampered with the evidence.

Wooyoung took a few steps back to admired his handiwork. It was actually the first time he had killed in such a meticulous way.  

And he found it... much, much more fulfilling. More gratifying.

Usually, he’d use a knife. A simple slash to the throat or a few stabs to the abdomen would always do the trick. Strangulation was nice occasionally. Guns weren’t the most interesting weapon. It killed too quickly, but he sometimes used it.

This time Wooyoung had planned it out only minutes after drugging the victim. He had only 8-10 hours before it died from hanging upside down. As soon as it woke up, the fun began.

Since it was hanging upside down, the blood would rush to it’s head and keep it awake. There would be no chance to faint from the pain. Wooyoung slowly dragged it out; cutting, slicing, and slashing into the flesh. It was satisfying hearing the screams, begs and cries. And the final blow, the thing’s eyes popping out of it’s head and gurgling as he cut into the neck. The light leaving its eyes as the blood gushed out and flowed down.

But, it wasn’t just more fun. This kill was also special. It would be the first murder in the project he proudly titled, Bloody Pen. Inspired by you and in dedication to you.

A gift for you, his lovely muse.

He remembered what you had shown him on the second date. Your new book would be about a serial killer whose trademark would be riddles and puzzles.

As he read your words and spent time with you, he couldn’t help but feel something familiar in you. A kindred soul? Just like how you enjoyed writing stories of crime, Wooyoung enjoyed orchestrating a story with each kill he made to pin it on someone else.

Gang related violence. Domestic abuse. An accident. Out of defense. Suicide. Overdose. Poisoning. A drunkard killing their significant other. A crime of passion where one killed out of a fit of rage. Revenge. Jealousy. Greed.

Each kill had their own small details that made it a unique story. And this time, he would weave in your story. He’d end this theme after the fourth or fifth one and continue after sometime.

Indeed, he was having more fun than usual. But, he’d get caught after a while. It was the mistake of many murderers to unconsciously establish a repeated pattern.

Wooyoung hummed as he sealed up each piece of evidence in their proper containers. His job was done. Now, he only needed to transport it all to the forensic center. Another would come by soon to properly preserve and transport the body to the lab later.

Thankfully, Wooyoung wouldn’t have to do any extra work with tampering. The rain from two days ago had diluted and erased all of his traces.

He whistled a cheerful tune as he walked to his vehicle. After dropping the evidence off, he went home and slept peacefully till the alarm clock rang.

The sky was clear. The sun was bright. The birds were singing. Another day. Another kill. Another day he got away scot-free.

As he ate lunch, he hummed as he flipped open the pages to your second book. He only had read the brief summary on the back, but he was already hooked by the premise. In fact, it was inspiration for the next kill.

A serial killer who turned all of their lovers into dolls to keep them company.

In one hand he held a pencil, outlining and sketching the plan out onto his notebook.

Salt. Baking powder... He stopped. Huh, he’d have to do a little bit of his own research into this.

Ping!

He picked up the phone and your name popped up.

My apartment at 1? For help, if you’re not busy please? ^^ I’ll text you my address.

Wooyoung paused, contemplating to himself. He’d most likely be called back to the lab around 3-4 pm. Then again, just two to three hours with you sounded nice.

You bit your lips as you waited for a reply. Hopefully, you weren’t being too annoying. You jumped in your seat as a text came in.

Only for a few hours. Then I gotta work orz

Yes! You quickly sent your address and slumped against the couch. Closing your eyes and enjoying this small moment of happiness—Wait. Your eyes snapped open and looked around your apartment.

It was trash. Utter trash from your laziness to clean up. You also looked like trash with your messy appearance and your rats nest of a hair. And... you only had an hour left till 1.

You immediately rushed: picking up whatever you could into the recycle or trash can, dusting, and sweeping the floor. You glanced at the clock. 5 minutes left. You threw on whatever looked nice enough.

A ring and a few knocks had you running to the door. You smoothed over your hair once more and opened the door. And there stood Wooyoung with his usual bright smile. Your eyes glanced down to his hand. An envelope? He handed it to you and you took it with a questioning look in your eyes.

“The diagrams you wanted,” he explained. “I drew up how different types of wounds looked. I even have bullet points on the back to describe each one. You like it?”

At those words, you practically ripped the top of the envelope off. You slid the papers out and carefully went through it all.

It was bloody. It was disgusting. It was gory with its details.

“I... I love it,” you whispered as your fingertips stroked the papers. You clutched the diagrams close to your chest. Pulling all nighters just to search up the most minuscule of details were practically over. You had Wooyoung now.

“Please marry me.”

Your eyes widened and you covered your mouth. Why did you say that? You peeked up to see him equally surprised before his face had formed the smuggest grin you had ever seen in your life.

He was enjoying this.

“I, uh, I mean...” you fidgeted under his gaze.

Why? You screeched in your head. You wanted to crawl into a ditch. You wanted to curl into a ball and never see the light of day again.

But, Wooyoung was already here in front of you. There was no escaping embarrassment.

You were snapped out of your dazed state when you felt his hand stroking the top of your head. You flushed under his attention.

“Baby steps,” Wooyoung drawled with the ever present smirk on his face. “But I wouldn’t mind marrying you—“

Before he could say any more, you stepped back and flailed your arms. Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do you wanna just come in!?” You squawked.

Wooyoung chuckled and took his shoes off as he stepped in. Your reactions were honestly adorable.

The apartment felt warm and welcoming with cozy simplicity. He sat down on the couch and looked up to where you still stood trying to calm down. He tilted his head. “Are you not joining me?” He asked with a slightly teasing tone. “I can’t help you if you’re all the way over there.”

Right! You scurried to take a seat beside him and flipped open your notepad.

“Tell me exactly how to make the deaths more interesting.”

Wooyoung began, “First of all, I noticed the way you write deaths are either vague or not descriptive enough. You might as well just be saying ‘He stabbed her and she died’. Which isn’t wrong, but that’s also really boring.”

You grumbled with a pout, “Well, it’s not like I could Google this up. Literally, no website goes into detail on this kind of stuff.”

You were dedicated to having as much accuracy as possible. Which was why details were the most agonizing thing to write. Most of the time on the Internet, you could not find it. Either turning up with a vague answer or a blank result. As much as you hated it, you couldn’t dwell on it because it would take forever and you’d probably die before publishing anything. You could only continue on. But now, it was becoming a glaring problem that needed to be fixed.

“Well.” Wooyoung smiled. “You have me for that now.” He wrapped an arm over your shoulder causing your heart to beat faster. “Secondly, how does the killer feel?”

You blinked. “How does the killer feel?” You repeated.

Wooyoung nodded. “When people are reading about serial killers, they’re interested in how a person can be so warped. They hang on to every word. What they think. What they feel.” He gestured to your notepad. “With that in mind, try rewriting your first death scene in the manuscript.”

You pressed the pen against your pursed lips. You ran back and forth to get your manuscript for reference. After minutes of thinking, you wrote it down, occasionally drawing a line through a sentence and scribbling out some words. You handed the notepad to Wooyoung and fidgeted with your fingers.

“Better now?” You looked at him, trying to assess his reaction.

He scanned the small passage. His eyes and mouth was wide. Shivers went up Wooyoung’s spine. He could feel goosebumps rise up on his skin. His breath was taken away.

The room was dimly lit and dead silent. She was strapped to the table. Her mouth stuffed with cloth, her eyes bulging out. I studied my toolbox. Yes, the scalpel would do. A smile crept on my face as I caressed the blade. Her flesh was calling for me. Her fearful face reflected onto the blade before I cut a perfect chunk of flesh out.

He lowered his head, so you couldn’t see his face. He gritted his teeth and bit his lip. The tapping of his leg grew more agitated. It took every fiber of his being to hold his blood lust in. He finally took a deep breath, relaxed and exhaled.

You were incredible.

“Much, much better,” Wooyoung breathed out as he handed the notepad back to you. “I actually felt chills.”

“Yes! Progress!” You screamed. You tackled him, wrapping your arms around Wooyoung and resting your head against his chest. “I love you. I mean—” You quickly corrected yourself. “I love how you’re helping me. Not that I don’t love you, but like it’s way too early to say that when we’ve only known each other for a few weeks and...”

He chuckled hearing your rambles and stroked your head. You really were like a puppy learning new tricks for treats and affection. Your adorableness was such a sharp contrast to the small dark passage you had just written. Honestly, if he hadn’t known you, he would’ve thought you were the same as him.

You released him and cleared your throat. “Anyways, what else could I do to improve?” You asked.

“Not any other obvious thing I can think of.” Wooyoung put his hand to his chin and nodded. “Yeah. Your only real problems was around the deaths. You have the backstory, the motive, the mystery. And now, you have a better idea to write out deaths and you have me for details to spice it up.” He smiled and patted your head. “You’re doing a great job.”

A giggle bubbled from your throat at the praise and affection. You looked at the clock, surprised to see that it had already been past 2 pm. Did time really past that quickly?

It suddenly then dawned on you, you didn’t really know much about him. Other than his profession, you didn’t know why he was in it. Nor did you know his interests. You didn’t know anything about him personally. Wooyoung had work soon, didn’t he? Maybe you could get to know him a bit more in the little time you had left.

“Why did you decide to do forensics?” You felt Wooyoung jump up a little and he stared at you in surprise. “Um, did I accidentally ask a personal question?”

He blinked a few times before replying softly, “No... I’m just surprised you’re interested in me enough to ask. You really want to know more about me?”

“Of course.” Why didn’t he think you would be? You were slightly confused but you brushed it off.

He finally answered your question. “I was always interested in the human body. How it moved. How it functioned. The anatomy. I did so well and had such a knack for biology that a teacher told me I should try out forensics.”

“I see. Don’t answer if you don’t want to, but can you tell me about your family?”

Wooyoung frowned. Family? He looked down at his feet and back at you. His eyes widened.

What?

He stared at you. Flashes of her face merged with yours. No. She was dead. You weren’t her. Sweat beaded his forehead. His body trembled. His breath stuttered. His throat tightened. Why was it getting hard to breathe? He clenched his fist, digging his nails into his palm.

A gentle warm grasp of his hand snatched him out of his state and his eyes snapped to your alarmed eyes.

You rubbed your thumb on his clenched fist. “Are you okay?” You softly asked.

Wooyoung quickly stood up. He had to leave.

“I... I think I need to go out for a bit,” he faintly said. “Get a clear head before working.”

Without a word, Wooyoung went straight for the door. Just as he was about to step out, he almost jumped feeling your warm hand grabbing onto his arm. He turned to meet your soft, concerned eyes.

Why did those soft eyes and your warm touch start to feel so familiar now?

“I’m here for you whenever you need some comfort, you know?”

Wooyoung numbly nodded and you stared as he ran off. You groaned as he finally left your sight. Thoughts swirled through your mind as you closed the door. 

You cursed yourself. Way to go me. You royally have screwed up now.

Hopefully, this didn’t change anything between you two. You’d hate to lose him because of this.

You would have to apologize to him later. For now, you’d give him some space unless he came to you first.

[ritualmichael]

The Touch - Michael Langdon Mini-Series pt 3

warning: pre-smut kinda. idk what this is. i just know it made me thirsty. happy halloween. part two here.

The next day, everyone was gathered in the common room like you all did everyday. Although most of them annoyed you if you were around them for too long, being alone today wasn’t something you wanted to do. It was one of your bad days where you woke up in a mood that you couldn’t shake. Thoughts about your family and how you would never see them again, how you missed your old routine at home, or that the person you were destined to marry one day was gone. Days like these occurred often. 

“Hey, whatcha’ got there?” Emily asked, sitting down next to you on the couch. You had your drawing pad perched on the arm of the couch, drawing instead of engaging with everyone else like you would do most days. Emily always picked up on your moods, knowing when she should approach you or not. 

You looked up at her and attempted to give her a smile but it didn’t work out.  She was the one person you ever willingly showed your drawings to - at least some of them that is. You liked to show her your family and tell her everything about them because she would always intently listen as if she knew that you just needed to get it out of your system sometimes. 

You slid your drawing over to her and she carefully took it from you, smiling gently as she looked over it. “I will never understand how you’re so good at this...” She shook her head in amazement as she spoke, taking in the drawing of the hands that was sprawled across the paper. You were testing out your abilities, hands always being something that gave you a hard time. 

“It’s not that good,” you said softly, taking the drawing pad back when she hands it to you. You were a bit surprised that she didn’t recognize the rings that adorned the strong fingers, but maybe you were the only one who took notice in such small details about the new man at the outpost. Emily did have Timothy though, so she never showed much interest in Langdon as did the others. 

“Another one of those days?” Emily asked, scooting closer to you so that you both seemed as if you were in your own world, away from the nonsensical conversations of the others. You sunk down into the couch more, getting comfortable and nodding at her. “They seem to just keep happening. I don’t know what to do,” you answered.

“Just keep drawing, if anything good comes out of these days its that you’re getting better and better. Maybe Venable will commission you to paint a big portrait of her so that she can hang it on the wall,” Emily chuckled, giving your shoulder a little bump. She always knew how to make you smile even when you didn’t want to and you were thankful for that, even though you were stuck in this hellhole, you had Emily. 

After a long time of listening to Andre and his mother bickering, Nana’s long stories about her glamorous life (that took a long time and made you wish you could’ve had the chance to live as lavishly as she did) and having small talk with Emily, Timothy and her snuck away to what you assumed was Emily’s room. You knew that the two had a thing with each other but you guys never discussed it in fear that Venable would overhear. Once they left, you decided that maybe being alone after all wouldn’t be too bad, you had enough of everyone’s empty conversations for the day. 

When you got back to your room, you dropped your pad of paper onto your bed and walked over to your wardrobe. Wearing the heavy gown all day was exhausting, so you took it off every chance you got. Slipping it off, you were left in the short slip that you had to wear beneath it, and felt free of the itchy fabric. With a sigh, you crawled onto your bed and flipped through your drawings, smiling weakly at some of them. You laid back against your pillows, getting comfortable and kept flipping until you reached your drawing that you just did in the common room. Grabbing for your pen, you darkened parts of the knuckles and you could already feel your face growing hot as you thought about yesterdays interaction with the man whose hands you’ve seemed to draw. You couldn’t help it, the feeling of his knuckles still seemed to linger on your skin and you craved to feel more of that burning touch. Even if it was Langdon. 

You grazed your fingertips over your cheekbone where he touched, your eyes fluttering closed and you thought about how it would feel to hand his hands touch you other places. Grazing your sides. Running up and down your back. Fingertips tracing patterns on your thighs. You couldn’t stop yourself from dreaming about how good it would feel, your breathing growing heavier. It had been too long since you had been touched like you needed. 

“So, you are like the others.” You heard a voice, your eyes flying open and you quickly scramble to sit up, shoving your thin slip dress down that you didn’t realize you had hiked up your thighs. 

There he was again, Langdon. Standing at the door, it half open with his hand still on the nob. Of course he didn’t knock or even make a sound when he came in. You were both angry and embarrassed and couldn’t tell which one was making your face hot and bright red. You tried to catch your breath, shoving the drawings beneath your pillow. 

“W-what?” was all you could get yourself to say. You watched as he closed the door behind him, his eyes beginning to roam along your very exposed body. You wanted to wrap yourself in your blanket but your mind was all over the place. What was he talking about? Why was he in your room and why did he think it was okay to keep scaring you like this? 

“These little fantasies,” he shrugged. You watched as he took steps towards you, making you sit up and press yourself against the headboard as he got closer. “Touching themselves and imagining its me.” He had a proud smirk on his face and you wanted to smack it off, but you never would.

“I-I wasn’t-,” you started but he quickly cut you off. 

“No? Then please tell me what that little act was then. I could practically hear you whimpering from the hall.” You watched, mortified, as he sat down at the edge of your bed, once again violating your personal space. Did you get so caught up in your daydream that he really heard you? There was no way. He was just doing this to rile you up and you weren’t going to let him. 

“Why are you in my room? Again,” you glanced down, making sure that you were covered up and really started to regret taking off your gown. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel his burning stare on your body. 

“Just trying to figure out why you weren’t in the common room with everyone else. I guess I now know why.” There was a hint of amusement on his face and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“That is not why,” you declared.

“Tell me then,” he said, turning towards you and letting his eyes run up your legs. Your had to force yourself to let go of the breath you were holding. Something about him looking at you made you freeze up.

“I just needed to get away from them,” you said, “to be alone.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself from looking down at his hands that rested on his thighs, making you readjust yourself. Everything about him always seemed strong but smooth, as if every step he took was purposefully seductive and intimidating. His hands seemed like they could cause so much harm but also be so gentle.

“Thats too bad. Also, didn’t your mother ever teach you not to stare?” his voice made you look back up at his face, a slight smirk tugging on his lips. 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock?” you asked, noticing for a second that the smirk seemed to falter. You watched, frozen in place, as he scooted closer to you and reached out, his hand wrapping around your ankle as if to trap you onto your bed. You breath hitched in your throat as he leaned in closer, his frame much larger than yours. 

“You’re truly getting brave, thinking you can just say whatever you want to me,” his voice almost sounded like a growl and you could feel his cool rings pressed hard against your skin, making you want to tug away from his grasp. His cold eyes scanned your face and you tried to calm your breath but you couldn’t help it as it came out heavy and jagged. You wanted to curse at yourself for letting him have so much power over you. 

“Don’t touch me,” you tried to pull out of his hold but it tightened. It didn’t hurt, that wasn’t his intention. He knew that he didn’t have to restrain you too much, you were practically helpless towards him anyway. Thats when his hand started running up your leg and you squirmed a little, goosebumps running up your body. You had the urge to push him away, really tell him to stop, but you didn’t want to. 

“But isn’t that exactly what you want?” he said lowly, his hand slipping under your knee and gently pulling you closer to the spot where he was perched on the side of your bed. You didn’t resist it either. 

Your body felt like it was on fire and you pushed out every nervous and scared thought telling you to get far away from him. You had ached for the moment to come when you could feel some human contact and he knew it, you could tell by the way that his hand started to run up and down your thigh slowly. 

“I-I don’t-“ was all you could say before your words were cut off by him grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips. Your first instinct was you push at his chest and try to climb off but your hands seemed to lack any force, causing you to stay right where you were. 

His blue eyes pierced into yours, being at the same level as him allowed you to notice features about him that you didn’t before. You could feel his fingers lightly digging into your hips and it made your wriggle for a moment before freezing, remembering that you were on his lap. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. 

“Do you want to be left alone now?” he spoke lowly, just loud enough for you to hear since you were close enough. One of his hands left your hips and ran up your side, reaching your neck. There, he ran his fingertips lightly over the delicate skin and you tilted your head to the side without thinking, which only made him smirk. You were letting him win but you didn’t care in this moment. 

Instead of speaking, which you found it hard to do right now, you simply shook your head at his question. You body was hot, every trace of his touch felt like it was been permanently seared into your skin and you loved it. Those hands that you drew we’re now touching you, making you want to melt into them. 

“Of course not...” he mumbled, resting two fingers under your chin and lifting your head up to look at him directly. There was something about the intense eye contact, that you would normally avoid, that made the sensations running through your body heighten. “Because you’ve been thinking about this. Thinking about someone who would finally touch you and make you feel good.” He knew he had you now, especially since you caught yourself leaning into his touch as he uttered those words. 

You were already in so deep at this point, any thought of how wrong this was had disappeared from your mind. All you could think about now was the man beneath you and the way he spoke, as if every word was luring you in more and more. 

He watched with pride as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip and you opened your mouth slightly, a shaky breath leaving you. You could tell that he was basking in all of the power that he held over you, like you were a puppet that reacted to him perfectly and exactly how he wanted. His hand that still rested on you hip pulled you closer and you gasped as you felt the rough material of his pants through the thin layer of your underwear, those being the only things separating you now since your dress slip had bunched at your hips. 

He leaned in, his nose brushing against your neck and your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. His hand grasped the back of your neck gently and kept your head tilted for him, his warm breath on your skin giving your goosebumps.

“I can give you what you’ve been craving,” he whispered in your ear, a whimper leaving your lips at his words. Your hands that still rested on his chest gripped his jacket, trying to release some of the tension in your body. All you wanted right now was to feel more of his warmth and his lips against your skin.

As if he could read your mind, his lips grazed over the shell of your ear while his hand snaked around to your back, pressing you closer to him so that your chests were against each others. He started to leave agonizingly slow kisses down your neck, causing weak whimpers to leave your lips and your eyes to flutter closed. The sensation was something you didn’t realize you missed so much until you had it. 

Tentatively, you ran your hands up his chest and to his hair, where you paused. Langdon spoke huskily between each open-mouthed kiss against your skin, urging you to go on. You slipped your fingers into his hair, gripping it when you felt his teeth nip at your collarbone. You were unsure if he would like it but when you heard a small groan come from the back of his throat at your grip on his golden locks, you knew he did.

You whined softly when he pulled away from your neck, your breathing heavy and you could feel his kisses on your skin still. You wanted to feel them forever. 

He slipped his hands down to your thighs that were spread at his hips, his warm skin against yours while he slowly ran them up and down your thighs. You knew that he was consciously making this whole moment slow and painful for you and that he was enjoying it. His touches were amazing but you craved more. So much more.

“Langdon, please...” you said softly, trying to pull yourself even closer while running your fingers through his hair. 

“You don’t have to call me that,” he said, shaking his head gently. You knew that his first name was Michael but it never felt right to call him that, just like you never called your teachers by their first names. He just seemed superior. 

You gave him an obedient nod, dropping your head onto one of his shoulders as you tried to stop yourself from getting too needy. Soon all of the worrying thoughts rushed back into your head, making you suddenly realize what you were doing and who you were doing it with. 

You lifted your head and tried to climb off of his lap, starting to say how you shouldn’t be doing this but you quickly felt his hands grip your thighs, stopping you from climbing off of him.

“What are you afraid of?” he looked at you with his brows furrowed. You glanced at his lips as he spoke and they were slightly red from when he was kissing you. He really looked otherworldly right now. 

“Venable said we can’t do this,” you said. 

“You and I both know that she has no say over what I do,” he remarked, “or who.” 

You blushed at his words, shaking your head and trying to climb off of him and this time he let you. It was like there was a small devil on your shoulder telling you to completely submit yourself to him and a little angel telling you that you should resist his temptations. It was hard to tune either one out. 

“You’re not scared of Venable,” he said, standing up and straightening out his jacket that you had tugged on minutes before. Once again, he towered over you with such an intense look that made you want to crumble. “You’re scared of what it would feel like to be out of control. Careless.” 

You watched him as he started to walk slow circles around you, his hands clasped behind his back like always. “You haven’t felt recklessness in a long time.” The feeling of his presence circling you like a buzzard would for roadkill made you want to push him out of the door. 

“Let me know when you’re ready to,” his voice said from behind you and you listened as your door opened and closed. You let out a long sigh, knowing that everything he said was all too true. What was this spell he had over you?

part four here.

tags (lmk if u wanna be tagged): @areyouhappeh @nolixxx @crybabycth @heelsamizayn @htxlmaoo @dreamybadlands @oldworldsoul @lukeyasheycalymikey @xxxunluvablexxx @royalworldtraveler @dragonsandtitties @teasbees-knees @dudesorriso @silkyhoneybaby @kaliforniacoastalteens @quacksonbarnes @psychoticobsession

[jamalam]

Hold On To Let Go Chapter 8

@empyrealsakaki @misstaurusie @virusap

“Alexande-....Alexandwhore!” Thomas shouted, biting his lip at his small slip-up as he ran after the shorter teen as the final bell rang with a shrill, repetitive sound. Thomas knew that with any luck, Alexander would not notice how his voice nearly cracked at the cruel nickname, if one could even call it that. “Wait up!”

Flinching ever so slightly at Thomas’s loud voice, Alexander stood still, turning his head to watch as the intimidatingly tall football player ran towards him. He couldn’t help but to notice that much like himself, Thomas’s backpack was half-opened with papers and textbooks threatening to spill out.

“Lex, I’m so glad I caught you before you got to leave, I-”

“My name is Alexander. Not ‘Lex’,” Alexander cut him off, his voice cold and eyes narrowed before he realized exactly who he was speaking to in such a way. His feet were stuck in place and his once-narrowed eyes widened in a sadistic form a fear that typically only came to him when he was being crammed into a locker after a long night of cramming for a test and not sleeping. “I-I mean, y-you can call me w-whatever...I don’t...I don’t care…”

Thomas frowned at Alexander’s sudden change in tone, although in hindsight he supposed it might have come off as more of a scowl directed at Alexander, who was nearly shaking in terror. “I...I’ll keep that in mind...Anyways, are you doing anything this afternoon? Going anywhere?”

“Not….Not really…” Alexander mumbled, focusing his gaze on his untied shoes, the double knots having come loose sometime during the school day.

“Great!” Thomas exclaimed, grinning widely. “We need to work on our project.”

A curious look found its way onto Alexander’s face, and against his better judgement, he lifted his gaze from his filthy tennis shoes to the smiling teenager in front of him. And why was he smiling? Usually when Alexander found himself speaking with Thomas, the only smiles were sadistic grins and ones during sighs of relief as the taller teen left.

“You wanted to work? On our project? Together?” Alexander inquired, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly, as he tended to do when he was confused.

“Well, duh,” Thomas replied, still smiling at Alexander, subconsciously smiling wider as he observed the shorter teen’s features- though he was unlikely to ever admit that. “I thought that since we were assigned as each other’s partners, we should actually do our work. Something you clearly are unfamiliar with.”

While normally, Alexander would begin to scream at anyone who said such a thing to him, he simply averted his gaze once more- after all, this was Thomas Jefferson. “Yeah...sure.”

“Your place?” Thomas suggested, lifting a hand and running in through his dark curls, the light cascading down them from the afternoon sun causing a sort of glimmering waterfall of light, or a halo. Although, he supposed, he was far from an angel. What with the way he was thinking of Alexander and himself being together in his bedroom again, and how easy it would be to lean over and kiss him softly...Or just hold his hand. That would probably be better. For the sake of his own as well as Alexander’s wellbeing. “Or we can just study at my house, I guess- whatever’s better for you!”

“We can go to my house…” Alexander answered, suspicion lacing his voice like the soft hemming on an elegant ball gown- barely there, yet still noticeable to the well-trained expert. At least if they went to Alex’s house, he’d be guaranteed at least some fragile form of protection from Thomas’s sharp words and even sharper punches, he thought to himself idly.

After a moment to take a deep breath in attempt to steady his thoughts, Alexander turned around and motioned for Thomas to follow him. After a few steps, he felt the tight grip of Thomas’s hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving anywhere farther away. Half-expecting to be turned around and hit, he flinched, only for Thomas to let go and walk around to Alexander’s side with a smile still on his face.

“I drove here. We can just drive to your house, and it’ll probably be a lot easier than walking all the way to your house. I think I remember the address, so I won’t need directions,” Thomas explained, forcing his smile not to falter as he noticed Alexander’s flinching. He knew that he had no right to be upset that Alexander was this afraid, due to the fact that he’d been the one to cause Alexander all this pain. But this was his soulmate, the person he was meant to be with- platonically.

Alexander simply nodded, following Thomas to his car and swinging the door open somewhat carelessly, stepping in and shutting it behind him. The stiff fabric of the seat scratched against is cheap jeans, torn from usual teenage growth spurts- which Alexander had not experienced very many of- and falling to the ground- as well as being pushed to the ground- many, many times.

“So,” Thomas said as he sat down, shut the door, and started the engine, the soft rumbling filling the small space with sound. “Go straight for two miles, then take a left?”

“Yeah,” Alexander mumbled, staring out the tinted window next to him and idly tracing small patterns against the denim fabric of his jeans. “It’s the one with lavender in the front yard.”

“I remember. It looked really nice. Purple is my favorite color, you know,” Thomas said as he pulled out of the parking lot and began driving through the typical after-school traffic.

“Really?” Alexander asked absentmindedly, not turning his head towards Thomas as he spoke.

“Yeah,” Thomas replied, content that Alexander was at least speaking to him. “Especially magenta. The shade of magenta that you get in gel pens in middle school, that has those tiny specks of glitter.”

“That’s funny,” Alexander murmured, smiling softly and uncaring of if Thomas heard him. “I know someone who absolutely loves that color. It’s the only one they write with.”

Thomas bit his lower lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, the pain a helpful distraction. How long would it take? How long would it take for Thomas to hold out his arm to Alexander, roll up his sleeve, and reveal the dried magenta and emerald green ink on his skin? The words written in stolen time to make up for stolen kisses that they could have exchanged if only Thomas were a better person?

Would Alexander even believe him? If Thomas were to show him the sentences and fragments of words and mindless scribbles from when they were in a boring class, would Alexander believe what he saw? Or would he refuse, tell Thomas to pull over, that Thomas could head home and that he would be fine walking the rest of the way?

As he parked his car in front of Alexander’s house, the lavender perfectly lit by the glow of sunlight, Thomas supposed that it wouldn’t matter how Alexander reacted to the information, since only one reaction was possible. Alex would be hurt. Hurt that Thomas Jefferson of all people was his soulmate, hurt that he’d been lied to, hurt that the person he loved was the person he feared.

Which was why he wouldn’t tell Alex.

No matter how much it pained him.

Some things are best kept secret.