#caly answers

[hongism]

hi caly, hope you're well! i know it kinda sucks to ask you this and believe me I'm not trying to pressure you or anything, its more of a question out of despair and eagerness to have some news on moc... but do you know when the next update will be? and if you do, could you bless us with a little snippet? 🥺😔

anyways, drink lots of water and stay healthy, luv u!

hi love don't worry hehe you asked v nicely and sweetly i don't mind at all 🫶 im really really hoping and aiming to have the next chapter up by the end of the month! it's a personal goal of mine this year to try to put at least one chapter out every month if i can but if i could do more than that i would be so super thrilled and happy,,,, we'll see tho!!! ofc i can give a itsy bitsy snippet too <33

When you come to, you almost don’t realize that you have woken up at all because you open your eyes to complete darkness. The first thing you notice is the weight at your back, something digging into your shoulder blades and making you wildly uncomfortable, but that sensation is pushed to the back of your mind as your brain starts catching up with the reality you’re in. Your right arm does not feel wholly attached to your body in any way, and even when you attempt to use it to help move around in the cramped space you’re in, it refuses to budge at all. Above you, there is a firm plank of wood that slots into your faux coffin so perfectly you imagine it’s aiming to act as your grave. In your left ear, you hear a quiet yet unsettling whispering coming from outside the box. “I know you’re there,” comes the distorted yet familiar tone, “I’ll pull every splinter of wood off this box to reach you. You can’t hide forever.” You swing your left arm up as hard as you can manage given the limited space you have to deal with, ramming your elbow into the block of wood over your body. The huffs of your breathing make the enclosure feel that much smaller, and in turn, it causes your moves to lean more frantic than an organized attempt to escape. “Keep struggling just like that. I like a fight~” The voice belongs to San — there’s no doubt about that — and yet it sounds nothing like your San.

[the-californicationist]

Am I too late for the gif prompts???

Tell me the 141 wouldn't love feeling the sting in their gums for days afterwards...

oh darling no! never too late! im just slow as hell. thanks for the ask and for being so patient with me.

it's so true though. they would love this bratty behavior. these lads love a challenge don't they? and when you don't just blindly roll over and show them your soft underbelly, when you've got some teeth... mm mm mmm.

Gaz's reaction is immediate. When you suck that full bottom lip of his into your teeth, applying just the right amount of pressure to ache, he pulls himself from you, his hand instinctively grabbing your jaw, those big brown eyes of his, once so kind and sweet, now are studying your face with a fiery frustration. All of his blood has rushed south, filling up his cock for you, eager to see if you like it as rough as he does.

Soap bites back. When you nip at his bottom lip, he has the audacity to laugh at you. He chases you with his hot mouth, the scruff of his unshaven beard scratching your skin, sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. And when you hiss from the pain? That's when he has to readjust himself in his jeans. Loves his woman reactive, vocal, and eager for a little pain with her pleasure.

Ghost is surprised. He'd been the gentleman all night. He held doors. There were even flowers involved. So, when you finally kissed him in his truck, stretching yourself over the console (before you were very unceremoniously dragged onto his lap), you got the same treatment. He was careful not to take it too far, keeping his hands at your waist, well-behaved, even though you could feel his excitement lengthening beneath your ass. So, when you decided to get a rise out of him, latching onto his mouth hard enough to taste a little blood? Well, love, you should've known all his sugar was just a ruse to hide his spice.

Price is fourteen steps ahead of you. You're pinned to something - a desk, a door, the wall, who knows! - and trying desperately to catch your breath. His tongue is silky warm invading your mouth, that beard bristling just enough to let you feel it on your cheek. His hands are everywhere at once. He's peeling off his clothes and your clothes, fondling you and himself, hungry like he hasn't had a pretty thing like you in his whole damn life. As you catch him in the midst of all of his fervor, pressing your teeth into his lip, he stops. His huge body melts into the pain that you give him, and his eyes open, dark and fully blown in the low light, earnestly allowing you to bite him as painfully as you like. He stares right into your soul as you let him go, taken aback by his intense gaze, wondering if you've gone too far, but he rubs his maw across the front of your teeth, tracing your lips with his own, whispering into your mouth, "Harder."

[isawken]

this is Total Time in Car. train trips don't count. do not count time spent in hotels. if you slept in your car you can put those hours towards your total tho. doesn't matter if you were the one driving or were just a passenger. and put in the tags where you went :)

[calist4r]

What’s your favorite colorrrr?

[heyyesimtrash-whatofit]

Yo J ! Do you think you can draw Marty & Jennifer walking through a graveyard fearfully linking their arms tightly with each other on their way home from staying late at school ? Spooky season is upon us ! So I thought I might as well give a chilling drawing idea 👻

“Do you ever feel like you’re being haunted?” “All the time, Jen. All the time.”

Hope you don’t mind me taking a few creative liberties with this prompt haha 😅. Finally had the motivation to draw again after so long just in time for the spooky season. Some people say that their past haunts them- Marty is starting to wonder if it actually can. I mean, everyone in the old west assumed he was dead after all. Can you haunt yourself? Time travel is confusing…

Anyway yeah, just a little higher effort thingy for this lovely ask! I swear I’ve wanted to do this for ages but life just loves to get in the way of everything lmao. Hope you enjoy this either way!

[anantaru]

Yoru 😭😭😭 sobbing I really want neuvillete and writhosley to frot and jerk off over my face and paint me in their cum ngl

STOOOOOOOOOP OMG DOUBLE FACIAL FROM BOTH OF THEM I CRAVE IT YOU‘RE SO RIGHT OMG 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹😫😫😫😫

AND THEM LOOKING AT YOU LIKE THIS WAYYYYBSSBSBIMLOOOOSINGMYMIND

[nintendonut1]

~ hello hi I wanna say I love your art style been following ya for a while now I love how expressive and amazing your art is and I love super Mario rpg too ;w;🌟💫💖hope you have a awesome day :D🍄

WEH THANK YOU...........................

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

BUNNY IM GOING TO CRY

u updated office AU and it's another BJ POV which is :') but it's midnight and i have to go to sleep which is :'(((((((( because it means i can't read it right awayyyyy

(i mean technically i could read it right away but this is a Bunny Fic which is high quality and requires being read on my laptop the first time i read it and i have to go to bedd ahhhhhhhhhh)

this is all obviously meant extremely affectionately im very excited to see what happens im just cursed forever with being in the UK with our shitty time zone differences

just think it will be a reward for a long day of doing work!!! lmao thank u im so flattered that a bunny fic necessitates the Big Screen for the first read. what an honor ; -- ;

[simplydnp]

wish i didn’t live a 16h flight from san diego me and my friends would so go :(

google can't decide how long of a flight it actually is for me but it's moreso the international flight cost :/ plus our dollar is bad against the USD rn

[meraki-yao]

How does he look so good after getting off an international flight??

GOOD FUCKING QUESTION, I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW

And he actually got off the plane with his hair fine! Idk what the fuck happened after customs or on his way out that made his hair stand up, but even then he be looking great

AND AS IF THAT WASN'T ENOUGH, LITERALLY LIKE A LITTLE OVER AN HOUR AFTER HE LEFT THE AIRPORT, HE CLEANED UP ALL NICE AND IS NOW ATTENDING AN EVENT?????

WHAT THE FUCK TAYLOR, WHAT THE FUCK YOU MAGICAL MAN

[jrueships]

negligent mother

[hongism]

caly WE'RE STARVING can you give us some teaser for whats to come in moc? if not, thats completely fine im just going insane but don't wanna pressure u 🥺

i can ofc :3 i can't promise that it'll come out very soon but i am working on it <3

The hands that cover your eyes are not your own yet they are just as calloused and rough on your skin, but the voice against your ears is so soft by comparison. “Are you ready, mon amour?” It’s Seonghwa who speaks with a foreign warmth to his tone you haven’t heard in some time. You bring a hand up to cover his, eager to pull him away and restore your vision. “Not yet, you haven’t answered the question.” “I’m ready,” you breathe out in nothing more than a whisper. “Good.” Light creeps into your vision, pulling back the curtains of darkness, and what you see before you is both astonishingly beautiful and horrifying at once. You’re at a dinner table small enough to seat two, and across from you sits none other than your captain. Except unlike you, who possesses the freedom to move from the chair as you please, Hongjoong has ropes bound around his torso and keeping his arms stuck to his sides. He stares ahead at you, face oddly blank and expressionless. Seonghwa creeps into your peripherals draped in white robes that make him look more saintly. “Seonghwa.” “Shh, mon amour. Let us prepare this feast for you to enjoy.”

[the-californicationist]

Hello🐻❤

Military!Biker!Price ?

I mean... Repaired a motorcycle, ride a biker

I love you Cali ❤🫂

I love you too @leixy and I’m so sorry for the wait!! Hope you enjoy the story 🩷🩷

MDNI

Storm Chaser

The rumble that you heard just outside of your garage may have been mistaken for thunder. The skies were gray, and as they rolled across the firmament, you knew they’d linger, soaking the ground and making the soil black with its fallen waters. But, this wasn’t a thundercall. This was a Triumph. 

A giant, hulking man, laden with muscle and black leather gear, rolled into your mechanic shop’s driveway on a blacked out, stealthy Triumph Storm GT. Its rider’s face was covered in a full helmet, and as he slowed to a stop, his heavy boot dug into the shale, catching the center of the bike and sitting up straight, killing the enormous engine.

He looked at you. You knew he was looking at you because there was no one else to look at. You saw yourself in the black mirror of his visor, and all around you were the empty fields surrounding your shop, the tall grass roiling in the wind. 

The gloves came off first, and you indulged in his hands. They seemed monstrous; a thin dusting of dark hair covered his skin, and each finger looked like it might have been wider than two of your own. His nails were clean, which surprised you for some reason, and there was a nasty scar along his right palm. 

He fiddled with his helmet, unlatching the buckle, and then yanked it over his head. 

Shit. You cursed inside of your mind. He’s hot as hell.

You’d been drooling over the bike, but the man sweetened the deal. He was ruggedly handsome, and his movements were so easy. It was like being in the presence of a magician, as if he knew all the secrets and delighted in hiding them from you. He was so certain, so sure of his tricks, and you waited on him to break the spell he’d put on you. 

“Alright, love? How’s it goin’?”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and it warmed you like a fire. His grip was firm but careful, and he let you go without a shake. You smiled,

“All good. Slow day,” you pointed upwards, “No one but you out in this weather.”

He chuckled, and you fell for him even harder. His mirth was contagious. He looked up at the darkening sky and told you,

“Aye, it was pourin’ cats and dogs a few minutes ago. Chasin’ me here, I’ll wager. Thought I’d wait it out here. Maybe get the service I’m due for.”

“This bike’s brand new,” you scoffed, “How did you put ten thousand miles on it already?”

He gave you a half-grin and admitted with a shrug,

“I like to get away.” 

You nodded, and he dismounted, unzipping his jacket for comfort. You gave the bike a once-over, checking for any signs of trouble. As new as it was, you’d already been trained on it, so you felt confident you could help him. You mentioned your plan,

“Oil, brake pads, filters. Check your sensors. My Triumph cert is up to date, so we’ll just clean her up by the book. How does that sound, mister…?”

“Price. John Price. Sounds class, love.”

“Waiting room just in there, John,” you pointed over to the tiny little sitting room you’d added to the garage, “Got a library and some coffee. Should be fresh. Just made a new pot a few minutes ago.”

“Cheers,” he smiled, and it was the most handsome one you’d seen in a while. His full lips stretched into his cheeks, and his tanned skin crinkled up to his eyes. 

The eyes themselves were a problem. They were a hue of blue you’d never seen, and they pinned you down like a wild animal, a hunter and his prey. But, all of that ferality was tied taut, held by a rope in his clenched fist, and his gnashing hungry teeth were kept from biting you, controlled by his tight-laced civility. All of that chivalry made you wonder what he was like when he was allowed a little freedom. 

As he walked away from you, you ogled him. You weren’t even ashamed to do it. He was everything you wanted in a man. Him and his bike oozed a primal sort of power that you’d been craving, and you wanted a taste of that freedom. 

His bike was his escape, that was for sure. Ten thousand mile service after only a few months of ownership was impressive. This man liked to ride long and often. There was plenty of evidence of wear and tear, but as rough as he had been with his ride, there was evidence of his love as well. The clean body, the mended tailpipe, evidence of a scuff polished away; it was all proof of his affection.

The service was easy and quick. As you were checking his sensors and finishing up the job, the first pitter patter of rain began to fall into the gravel drive. In the beginning, it was soft and sweet, just a few drops here and there. Then, over the short span of mere moments, it came down in a torrential pour, slamming itself into the ground and pummeling the pavement. 

You watched it slip and slide off of your metal roof in sheets, and you got close enough to the edge so that you could feel the cool spray from the downpour, a few droplets spitting onto your nose and cheeks. A bright blue bolt of lightning streaked across the cloudy pall, followed by a deafening roar of thunder that resonated in the hollow of your chest. 

Cleaning the oil from your hands as best you could, you went to deliver the bill to your customer. To your sick delight, he’d be trapped with you at least until the storm passed, and you crossed your fingers that he could do with a bit of company. 

He was sitting on the wide couch in the waiting room, his hands prying open a book. When you looked at the spine, you noticed that he was deep into the first few chapters of Moby Dick.

“Having fun yet, John?”

“Enjoying the rain on this tin roof of yours. Makes me want to kip down here on your sofa. Love to fall asleep listenin’ to the storm.”

“Me, too,” you admit, nodding towards the book, “Has he caught the whale yet?”

John shook his head,

“No, we barely got out of the harbor. You work fast. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me though, love. I don’t fancy a ride out in this mess.”

“No problem. Take all the time you need.”

“D’ya mind?” He dug around in his jacket and pulled out a short, fat cigar. 

You waved him on, motioning that it was alright with you, and he happily lit his stick, working an ambery, glowing tip until fiery smoke spilled from the end. You were about to turn and hide somewhere else, anywhere that you wouldn’t need to smell his burnt, woodsy scent. It was making you hungry for a puff of his cigar and a long lick of the inside of his mouth. 

A little self-control please… You begged yourself. 

He caught you as you started to leave, and the feeling of his hand on his surprised you with its warm sincerity. You looked down at him, but you didn’t pull away. 

“Stay… for a bit. I was just gettin’ to the good part,” he said with a sly smile, holding up the book as if to offer it to you. 

“Alright,” you replied, your voice sounding too small and too quiet in the small space. 

You sat next to him, worrying over your oil-stained nails as he read aloud to you, pausing every now and then to smoke his cigar or to turn his pages. Slowly, you started to relax, and as you leaned back into the couch, the sound of his voice and the drumming of the rain blended together into a soporific haze. You caught yourself looking at him — staring at him — with hooded eyes, studying the way his lips and tongue and teeth formed his words. The dark bristles of his beard giving you a clear view of every micro-movement of his face. 

He was looking at you, now, too. Staring at you. Every now and then, he’d glance back at the book, read a few lines, and then take a long pause to smoke and to meet your gaze. 

Suddenly, he seemed to make a conscious choice. He sat forward, and his huge shoulders cast a shadow over you. He held out his cigar and asked, 

“Fancy a smoke?”

You didn’t reply, but you took it from him ever so slowly, as if he might bite, and put the end in your mouth. You sucked in the smoke to taste the rich tobacco, and you let it roll around in your mouth before releasing it, letting it hit him in the chest and neck, billowing around his stoney jawline. 

Then, he said something to you in a new voice. It was one you knew, but you hadn’t heard it in a very long time. It was desire,

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you, love?”

You let his compliment wash over you like the downpour outside. It soaked through, right to your bones. You took another drag from the cigar, earning yourself a deeper chuckle and a pleased, approving grin.

“You should see me when I’m out of these coveralls,” you quipped, certain that your smudged cheeks were now a rosy shade of crimson. 

He took the cigar back from you and put the book down, leaning closer to you, positioning his knee between yours, forcing you to spread your legs. He smoked, filling the space between you, taking another drag for himself, breathing in and breathing out, trying to test the waters,

“Care to show me now?”

You met his smoldering gaze. The tip of his cigar had nothing on the glow from behind his eyes. He was poised and ready to pounce, a lion on a lamb. 

You didn’t answer him. You simply watched as he unzipped your work coveralls and let the sleeves slink down your arms. You pulled them free, revealing what was underneath. You were braless, letting your heavy tits lay unbound in the soft fabric of your ribbed tank, preferring comfort over fashion. 

His hand came up to cup your cheek, rubbing some of the smudged oil with his thumb. He leaned forward even further, breathing heavily with you, panting like he had run for miles, all for the sole purpose of brushing your sensitive bottom lip with his own, teasing you with your own taste, hungry for your body and ready to consume you in every way he knew how. 

He began to kiss you slowly, languidly, as if you were both trapped in some world of slow motion where time need not exist. You need not be bothered with the past or the future. The present was enough, and it stretched between you forever. Each kiss deeper than the last, each touch more sensual, making your breath catch in your chest. 

John pulled away from you, slowly untangling himself, looking at you as if he had been keeping some smoldering question inside of his chest. He moved so slowly, telegraphing his motions so you would know his intent. Rapt, you watched his hand drop to the hem of your tank, his thick fingers dancing along the seam, carefully pulling it away so that his warm hand could slide underneath. 

Your whole body shuddered as his palm spread across your soft belly. His callused hands were rough against your skin, and the way he grabbed at you, greedy yet slow and savoring, made you feel like he had hypnotized you. You were frozen in place, submitting to his desire. 

He looked up into your eyes, checking with you to see if you would allow him to venture further and then moving further anyway, unable to quell his lurid hunger. His fingers found the swell of your breast, the heavy flesh hanging like ripe, sweet fruit, ready to be tasted. A thumb slipped across your nipple, encouraging it to tighten into a little peak, just plump enough to fit into his wet mouth. 

Without lifting your shirt off of you, he bent his head and suckled on your taut nipple through its fabric. He wet the cloth and your skin, and when he pulled his mouth away, the dampness lingered, teasing you with the memory and lingering on you, chilling your flesh. Another swipe of his thumb and you heard yourself let out quiet little mewls, whining and needy. His immediate, chuffed grin made you blush with shame. 

So, you took your revenge. You reached your hand across the supple leather of his riding pants and found the tip of his fat cock hanging trapped and turgid halfway down his muscular thigh. You used your finger to draw tiny circles around his head, knowing he could feel it. To your satisfaction, his eyes fluttered closed, lost in the sensation. 

Then, his hands plundered under your top, scrunching the fabric up to your collar, revealing your skin to him. As you messaged his heavy cock, you watched him sigh as he admired your curves, drinking you in like a desert palm, his hard root stretching towards its oasis. 

“Take me out, love. Please,” he begged you softly, kissing you between his gentle whispering words, and you knew what he wanted. 

You yanked at his button to pop it off, and you pinched at the zipper, listening to the metallic whir of its teeth as you freed him. 

He wasn’t wearing anything under his leathers, which drove you wild. He must have been so sensitive during his ride, feeling every bit of the garment’s texture and folds as he straddled his machine. 

You reached for him and he let out a dark groan. His voice became threatening all at once, and he grabbed at you with all of his might, drawing your attention with his words,

“Both hands… ungh, ahh, please. Please touch me with both of your hands, love.”

There was plenty of his length for you to comply, and even with both of your hands, his swollen, rigid girth was still a challenge to manage. You focused on his head, watching as his whole body responded to your touch.

John pulled you in for another kiss, forcing his tongue down your throat, filling your mouth with his heat, crushing you to his chest, abandoning all of his earlier tenderness in favor of lustful fury. 

As he ravaged your mouth, you felt his cock slipping through your hands on its own and you realized that he was using his hips to thrust himself through your grip. You tried to help him, matching his pace, but that only spurred on his carnal want. 

He was moaning into your mouth, and you could feel the hum of his joy against your lips. With each shameless thrust, he cried for you in that dark brimstone timbre, aching and full of longing. 

“John…” you whispered, breaking away to catch your breath, saying his name like a prayer. 

Adding to the drama, a long peal of thunder shattered the sky, killing the lights in your shop. But, you were both so worked up by one another, the shock of a blown fuse paled in comparison, and your eyes stayed locked on each other’s, bound together, unable to look away. Unwilling. 

But, he paused, staring at you, wanting something from you, something more. 

You gasped when he lifted you, rumpled clothes and all, right off the couch. He shouldered the door to the tiny room and walked quickly to his bike sitting you sideways on the seat. You braced yourself with one hand on the tank and one on the tail, waiting for his next whim. 

He was working on your clothes, peeling off your coveralls and shucking off your layers until he found your panties. When he saw the fabric, he paused. You fretted for a moment until you felt the cool, stormy wind blow across the damp gusset. Then, you knew what he was looking at. You were soaking through your panties, and there he was, transfixed on the darkening stain. 

“Wanna taste you, love. Want you in my mouth…” 

John fell to his knees in a flash, his cock still free and flagging up and down, wet with his precome. You squirmed a bit, unsure of your scent and your sweat from your earlier work. 

Those gentle eyes had been replaced with a sinister warning. He pinned you with them as if to say, move away and I’ll bloody drag you back. 

He didn’t bother to kiss the softness of your belly nor your thighs. He wanted one thing, but you didn’t expect him to take you quite like this. He didn’t peel down your panties, instead eating you right through the thin cotton, sucking on the wet cloth and making lewd squelching noises, lapping his tongue over your soaking lips and sucking at your flavor with his eager lips.

“Oh, shit…” You lamented, feeling your body go slack, submitting to him and his power. 

“Fuck…” He said between bites of his meal, “You’re so sweet… Let me… ungh, fuckin’ hell…”

He used his thumb to tug the fabric aside, revealing your gleaming pink flesh. And when he tasted you, skin on skin, John became obsessed. He was pushing his strong jaw so hard into you, working you with his mouth, making you rake your fingers through his hair just to hold onto something, you were afraid the bike might tip. 

In one ruthless motion, he tore your panties from you, ripping the sides and tucking the ruined fabric into his fist. Then, he put that same hand on his cock and began to jerk himself off, rubbing your wet cloth all over his cockhead. 

With his free hand, he grabbed the handlebar of the bike, pulling it down towards him, preventing it from falling, now able to eat you with as much reckless abandon as he liked. 

His mouth moved in long, deep thrusts, fucking you with his scruffy face, suckling at the hardening body of your clit. His tongue pressed into your swollen lips, moving between them with forceful need. As he licked you, he moved lower and lower towards your wet hole, hoping to thrust his writhing muscle inside of you, wanting nothing more than to lick you dry. 

Finally, he reached it, and the tip of his tongue slipped into your pussy, pressing through your slit and fucking you like his cock wanted to. You heard him elicit a gravelly, smoldering whine when he tasted your smooth center, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in his head, his brow furrowing in disbelief. 

Meanwhile, the rain pounded in the open garage doorway, swirling and spitting under its ebon shroud. John cared very little about it, nor did he care that you and he were nearly naked, in full view of the street. The idea that anyone could drive up and see you there, caught in his jaws, made you lose control. 

You tried to hold your voice down, but once he felt you start to come, he did everything he could to set you ablaze. His hand abandoned the handlebar, preferring instead to sink two of his large fingers inside of you, working with his tongue to stretch you open, giving him more of your ripeness to devour. 

You keened like you were on fire, and maybe you were. You thought, as the flames licked up your legs and down your arms, that maybe you would burn right up. Maybe you were a flare, ready to sear a bright scorching light through his mouth, burning his throat like whiskey, brutal and cruel. 

Your whole body had given in to the feeling as if you were an orchestra at the mercy of its conductor. If he wanted your kindling to catch, it would, and you would burn for him. You were his opus, trapped in a perpetual crescendo of his lust, an expression of his own fiery fate. 

His mouth only left your body to cry out in his own right, growling out a breathless groan as he spilled his come into your panties, smearing his cock through his own emission and mixing it with yours. 

Unable to maintain your balance, and unwilling to jeopardize his bike, you sank to the floor with him, feeling the cold concrete on your shins. John tugged you into his lap, panting into your neck, smelling strongly of your scent, his face and beard shining with it. 

You breathed together, fondling what you could reach, cradling each other as if you’d found one another again after years apart. Penelope clutching at her Odysseus, recognizing him through a sea of lesser men. 

“You alright, love?” John asked, still catching his breath, petting your cheek absentmindedly. 

You nodded, affirming your well-being,

“Mmhm. You?”

“Aye,” he smiled, laughing quietly to himself, “But, now you’ve gone and done it.”

“What?” You smiled, enjoying his joy. 

“Didn’t think runnin’ from the rain would be such a fuckin’ good time. Now, when it rains, I’ll be craving you.”

You smiled at him, letting him kiss your neck and cheek, planting his affection like little promises, deep under your skin. 

“You’re always welcome back, rain or shine.”

“How about tonight at six; dinner at my flat?” He looked up at you, hopeful. 

“As long as I get to ride this bike, it’s a date,” you teased. 

He raised his eyebrows at your challenge, and then he gave you a lascivious grin,

“Don’t worry, love. I’ve got just the ride in mind.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

AO3 Link

[dhmisfour]

What relationship do you think California would have with Baja California?

#wttt

DEFINITELYYY SIBLINGS. To nobody's surprise. I think that would be pretty obvious. I feel like they'd have the type of relationship where they'd feel the need to make passive aggressive remarks and constantly outdo each other. I doubt they hate each other they're just Like That for the sake of competing because "heh. Ur just knockoff me if u think about it hard enough" - any one of them probably

[calist4r]

The ghosting one... you better than me, I'd immediately assume I'm being cheated on after having no contact for a week and that attitude and just start to ghost them back 😭

LMAOO you’re right cause who do they think they are??

[vaaaaaiolet]

good luck on your first day of college tmrw lovely <3 you got this and i'm sending all the love and best wishes for you to have an amazing experience !!! cherish your time there, ik you're going to do so well in every aspect ! 💗💗💗

violet you’re too sweet ☹️☹️ THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! i had a bunch of nerves but you and the kitty made me smile :))) I LOVE YOU!!! TO BITS!!!

i’m taking you with me i won’t hear anything about it >:))