#faye’s writing ✧˖*°��

[sunsburns]

guess

smut 18+, age gap, fem reader, underwear fixation

logan howlett loves to swear up and down that he’s too old to mess around with a pretty young thing like you. you’re out of his league in everything you do, from the way you can get up early in the morning and stay out late at night, stumbling back into your apartment in a fit of giggles, humming the last song that played at the club you were returning from.

he acts like he doesn’t notice, and he acts like you don’t exist. but the moment you bumped into him in the laundry room it’s been hard to ignore you.

it was wade who’d introduced the two of you to each other when he was giving logan the grand tour of the apartment complex, and they’d run into you while you were unloading a drier, tossing your clothes into a basket.

you in your tiny shorts and tight tank top, one earbud in and the other dangling by your chest. he tried hard not to stare, especially when you slowly straightened yourself up, holding your basket of clothes to your side, hair messy and sticking to your face a little bit.

it was hot in the laundry room, hell, the whole fucking building felt like a furnace now that the a.c. refused to work in the peak of summer.

but there you were, wide smile and open arms when wade shoved logan in your direction. you didn’t take it personally when he merely grunted at you, a slight nod to his head as a greeting. to logan’s surprise, your lips curled as you looked up at him, and you stared up at him like he was some kind of tree you wanted to climb.

no shame about it either.

logan’s eyes were drawn to your basket as wade spoke, retelling the whole story of how the two of you became ‘neighbour besties’, as he had put it. how you helped wade keep up with the ‘youngsters’, as he called them.

no, logan was too busy staring at a lacy black pair of panties sitting at the top of your basket. pretty little thing, pretty little bows to adorn it.

he slowly tore his eyes away from them and looked at you, then down to your hips where he could see your bright pink underwear, peaking out from the denim.

and maybe, in a dream or two, he imagined what those cute pink ones looked like in full. how it would be like to push you against your door before you could even unlock it, unbutton your shorts and dig his hands into them just to feel the soft fabric of your pretty pink underwear, soiled and ruined from how wet you were with want.

but for now, he’d have to do with the black lacy ones, he almost didn't want to take them off. running his hands over the fabric, grinning when your back arches against the bed, a little desperate, way too needy.

you’ve soaked them, all ruined just from him touching you, from the way his teeth teased you, pulling at the bows, running his nose over your clothed pussy.

logan hooked his fingers over the fabric at the center, pulling it to the side, tongue poking into your cunt, drawing out a whine from you. with an open mouth, he pulled back to see your slick, coated lips with a satisfied grunt.

logan pulled them back just to stare. fuck, they were so pretty. you were so pretty just sitting under him, in nothing but those pretty panties. yeah, logan might be old, but he can keep up for a night.

[livlaughloveluke]

omgomg can you do a charlie bushnell x reader smau where they do a soft launch?

ᡣ𐭩 𝗶 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶’𝗺 𝗳𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝗵𝗮

feminine reader x charlie bushnell smau

IN WHICH.. two famous pjo stars decide to make their relationship public

[a/n]- reader just plays an imaginary character in the first season, also request more smau’s i love them!

🎧- i know i’m funny haha by faye webster

liked by walkerscobell, jenna ortega, and 143k others

therealyn- beach trippp!

view comments…

diorgoodjohn- ok wow i don’t remember receiving invitation ?

↳ therealyn- i’m so sorry bae ilysm 💔

walkerscobell- you are NOT the son of poseidon lil bro 💀🔥

↳ therealyn- don’t make me get sally up in here

↳ walkerscobell- I WAS JOKING

user2- gorg

user6- holy shit she’s stunning

iamcharliebushnell- surprised you didn’t almost drown

↳ therealyn- THAT WAS ONE TIME.

↳ walkerscobell- hey why don’t I remember this so called “drowning”

↳ diorgoodjohn- i don’t remember this either 🤨

↳ therealyn- 🤫🧏‍♀️

user8- why is no one addressing the last pic

↳ user5- fr who is that

↳ user4- it’s probably charlie omg

↳ user3- can we let people be friends without automatically assuming they’re dating??

aryansimhadri- you’re my favorite castmate ❤️

↳ therealyn- awe you’re my fav too 💕

↳ walkerscobell- excuse me??

↳ diorgoodjohn- i thought you loved me yn 😔

↳ iamcharliebushnell- wait what

liked by diorgoodjohn, iamcharliebushnell, and 124k others

therealyn- the big 🍎

view comments…

diorgoodjohn- i’m 😭 so 😭 happy 😭 for 😭 you 😭

walkerscobell- hey so you can’t just post this with no explanation

↳ therealyn- hey so actually i can

oliviarodrigo- i’m in love with you omg

↳ therealyn- omgomg i love you too

iamcharliebushnell- pretty cool post

↳ therealyn- pretty cool indeed

↳ walkerscobell- this feels oddly intimate

aryansimhadri- what’s goin on here 🤨

↳ therealyn- i’m in new york duh

leahsavajeffries- maybe reply to my texts instead of posting your (not so) mystery man 💕😄

↳ therealyn- i’m going to ignore that last part ☺️

user4- HA tagged user3

↳ user3- they haven’t confirmed anything 😒

iamcharliebushnell uploaded a new story!

seen by therealyn, walkerscobell, diorgoodjohn… (view more)

liked by rickriordan, aryansimhadri, and 217k others

iamcharliebushnell- guess what

view comments…

walkerscobell- I KNEW IT

walkerscobell- GUYS I KNEW IT

walkerscobell- also that last photo is yucky 😀

↳ iamcharliebushnell- can’t you just be supportive

leahsavajeffries- so this is cool and all but i’d appreciate photo credits for the first one

↳ iamcharliebushnell- my dearest apologies i am greatly sorry

↳ leahsavajeffries- yeah you better be 💯💯

rickriordan- ❤️

↳ therealyn- 💕

↳ iamcharliebushnell- ❤️

diorgoodjohn- hey girly i know you don’t know me but…

↳ iamcharliebushnell- square up 🤺🤺

aryansimhadri- wowo so cutsies

↳ therealyn- so so cutsies

therealyn- who’s that gorgeous and funny and smart and sexy babe on the first slide 😍

↳ walkerscobell- someone’s humble

↳ therealyn- i was talking about charlie but okay

user4- I TOLD YOU tagged user3

↳ user3- i know i should be upset that i lost this argument and all but they are so cute

andrewalvarez- wow this is SO unexpected and I definitely did not know at all!

↳ walkerscobell- WHY DID HE KNOW BEFORE US

↳ iamcharliebushnell- he walked in on us 😔

ᡣ𐭩

MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

reblogging + showing support is highly appreciated :)

[harryforvogue]

a fic about harry and faye where faye needs to be picked up because it's snowed so bad and also she's feeling very very needy. has smut so be careful. or not. do whatever you like. DO leave feedback though or else i will fucking haunt you

***

Faye calls Harry at around 6pm.

He’s asleep, his iPad abandoned by his side with the pen still between his fingertips. He doesn’t know what time he dozed off, but he’s got to thank Faye for the portable heater she bought him for Christmas. It’s magnificent.

Getting himself out of bed to reach for his phone is difficult. When he finally manages, the only thing that makes him pick up is Faye’s photo.

He brings it to his ear. “Hi, baby.”

Immediately, he can hear the frown in her voice. “Oh no. I woke you up.”

“It’s all right,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “I wasn’t supposed to sleep anyways. I’ll barely get a few hours at night if I nap now.” He brings his phone back to his bed and sits down. “What’s up?”

“Um, well I just finished rehearsals.”

“Yeah? That’s good. Got out early?”

“Yes, it’s snowing pretty bad now.”

“Mm, is it?” He forces himself to get back up and take a peek out his curtains. She’s right; the snow lays on the roads, flurries all around still. “You wanna stay on the phone with me until you get home?”

“That’s kind of the thing. I’ve been at this bus stop for 15 minutes and my app keeps saying the bus is about to come, but the roads aren’t properly cleared so I don’t think it’s coming.”

Harry frowns. “You’re outside?”

“Yeah. I walked to the stop, but it’s like a ghost town here. Nobody’s out driving. The buses may have all been canceled.”

“Oh shit. Are you wearing warm clothes? Gloves and all?”

“Yup.”

“Good. Which stop are you at today? I’ll come get you.”

There’s instant relief in her voice. “Thank you.” She tells him which stop and then sighs softly. “It’s not that cold which is good. I suppose I should sit down on the bench but there’s ice on it and I already slipped while walking here. My butt still hurts.”

Harry groans as he tugs his jacket on and grabs an extra beanie. He shoves his feet into his shoes and grabs his keys. “Don’t tell me that,” he says. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Faye laughs. “I’m okay.”

“Think you can hold on for 15 minutes?”

“Yes, but Harry you have to drive safely, okay? The inner roads aren’t cleared at all.”

Harry sticks a piece of gum in his mouth. “Yeah, love, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

“Wanna stay on the phone with me?”

“Um, I would, but I can barely feel my fingers.”

Harry has to groan again. He’s outside now and thankfully his car isn’t looking too bad. He’ll still need to defrost it a bit. “Faye, you just told me you had gloves!”

“Whoops.”

“Okay, I’m going to hang up, but please try to get warm. Go into one of those shops nearby.”

“The only shop open near me is the chicken shop.”

“Go in there.”

“I don’t like the smell of chicken.”

“I must say that you are insanely difficult today.”

Faye giggles. “I’m not.” She must hear him turn his ignition on. “Okay, bye now. Drive safe.”

“I will.”

She hangs up. Harry has to step out of the car with his snow brush, pushing his way over to clean his windshields. He’s blasting the heat on the inside, and within ten minutes, he’s ready to go. When he gets back in his car, he’s muttering swears, trembling with the cold. “Not that cold, my ass.”

And Faye’s right. The inner roads are horrendous. He drives so below the speed limit, he may as well walk to get her. 15 minutes turn into 20 and by the time he’s pulling up to her bus stop, he’s very worried Faye may be a frozen block of ice. 

Faye wobbles her way over to the car, yanking the door open and all but throwing herself inside. She’s shivering so bad, Harry puts the car in park and reaches over the console to hug her tightly.

“For fuck’s sake, Faye,” he mutters, suppressing a shiver at her cold face pressed into his neck. “I told you to go into the shop!”

“If y-you made me wait any longer, I would have!”

“I drove as fast as I could.”

Harry turns the heat up higher and rubs her arms firmly, trying to get her tight muscles to relax. She’s wearing a winter jacket, yes, but her head is uncovered and she doesn’t even have a scarf. He pulls back to look at her, hoping there’s disappointment on his face. But Faye’s eyes just light up and then she’s lifting her head to get a kiss.

He can’t say no.

He cups her face and softly kisses her. Her lips are cold, but he can still taste the cherry chapstick as if she kept reapplying it every few minutes. She kisses him several more times, but when she places her frozen hands on his neck, he pulls away sharply.

“Faye!” He holds his neck as if wounded. “That’s so cold!”

Faye’s knees bounce. “Sorry!"

She doesn’t look sorry.

He grabs the beanie he’s brought her and throws it onto her head. Her bangs get caught on her forehead, momentarily blinding her, and she laughs, fixing the hat. Her black hair frames her cheeks. She reaches in for another kiss, but Harry stops her with a shake of his head.

“Get warm first. Or else you’ll get hypothermia and then I’ll have nobody to kiss.”

Faye says, “Wow you sound a lot like me.” She holds her trembling hands by the vents, shivering so bad, she’s compelled to make audible noises to show how cold she is, her jaw quivering. Harry starts driving the car again, and once he gets off the main street, he reaches for her hand and holds it in his lap.

“How were rehearsals?”

“Okay,” she says, shoulders shaking. “Maybe people couldn’t come in today because of the snow. I had to do, like, three roles.”

“Opening night is next month, right?”

“Yup. I got you your tickets.”

Harry kisses the back of her hand, squeezing her pale fingertips hard. She's painted her nails dark blue, he notices. “Thank you. Are you hungry?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s get something to eat then. I don’t have anything at home. Didn’t cook today.”

“Oh. Are we going to yours?”

“Yes.”

“Can I stay over?”

Harry smiles. “Yes.”

“Is Timmy home?”

“Nope.”

“Can we play that video game again?”

Harry sends her a look. “I thought you’d want to watch a movie or something.”

“Well, if you want to. But I had a lot of fun playing that game.”

“Yes, you were so good at it.”

She was not. Harry spent the entire night trying to save her, getting himself killed, and then yelling and begging her to stay alive until he could be revived. Faye had a lot of fun it seems, though Harry wouldn’t say it was a very productive night.

But, if she wants to do it, then they will.

“I feel like I’ll be better tonight,” Faye says, leaning forward to put her face against the air vent. Her eyes flutter shut. “We’ll get to the next level.”

“You mean level two.”

She laughs.

Harry’s pulling up to the take out shop they’ve agreed on when his phone goes off. He answers it on the car’s speakerphone.

“Yeah, mate?”

“Hey,” Timothée’s voice rings out. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m with Faye picking up food.”

“Oh cool. Hey, can you pick me up from the shop, man? My car’s fucking buried.”

Harry sighs. “Yeah, that’s fine. When are you off work?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, I’ll get you.”

“Cool, and hey–”

“Yeah?”

“Can you grab me some food? I’ll pay you back.”

Harry says, “I’ll think about it.”

There’s silence on the other line until Timmy says, “Faye?”

She leans in. “Yeah?”

“Can you make sure he gets me food? I’ll Venmo you right now.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks. Bye!” And then he hangs up.

Harry rubs his eye and then unbuckles his seat belt. Faye goes to do the same, but he stops her, shaking his head. “No, you need to stay warm.”

“I’m fine!”

“Nope.” He locks the car after opening his door and gives her a meaningful look. She watches him disappear into the shop.

When he comes back, he thinks she’s looking a lot better. The red in her cheeks has returned and she’s reapplying her chapstick without shaking fingers. He leans over and kisses her, pleased that her lips aren’t frozen anymore. Unexpectedly, she holds onto his collar and kisses him harder, and she doesn’t let him go until he’s chuckling against her lips and trying to pry away.

“What’s gotten into you?” he murmurs, peppering kisses down to her jaw. She shivers, but not from the cold this time.

“Just missed you.”

“Mm.” He kisses her cheek. “I missed you too.”

It’s a lot harder to drive after that, especially because Harry’s hand rests on Faye’s thigh, and she keeps playing with his fingers, occasionally pulling his hand up to kiss his palm. 

When they get to the shop, Timmy rushes into the car and slaps a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Thank you, man. This is great. Thanks. Hey, Faye.”

“Hi.”

“You’re coming over?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. Did you get me any food?”

“Yes we did.” She hands him the aux cord when he asks for it. They listen to his odd taste in music for the ride home.

Harry takes Faye up to his room when they get home. Timmy’s nearly falling asleep so he eats his food quietly and then heads to his own room with a reminder through the walls that he’d appreciate it if Harry and Faye kept it down.

Faye says, “I don’t know why he always says that,” as she’s climbing into Harry’s lap on his bed in his shirt only. He looks up at her, eyes shining, his hands resting just below her butt. She wraps her arms around his neck. “We’ve never been that loud.”

“I mean I certainly haven’t,” Harry teases, pulling her down onto his thighs.

“Me neither!”

“Sure.”

Faye can’t come up with a response, so she kisses him, and then turns around in his lap, back pressed to his warm, strong chest. He places his hand on her thigh, holding her to him. As he’s setting up the game, she reaches over and grabs his iPad, turning it on to see his latest sketch.

It’s a very daunting looking dragon with detailed wings and scales. She zooms in to see all of it, thoroughly impressed. “This is so cool, Harry!”

“Yeah? Thanks, baby. Had a client say she wanted a big dragon piece so I’ve been brainstorming.”

“Where does she want it?”

“Around her bicep.”

“It must hurt like crazy.”

Harry hooks his chin over her shoulder and hugs her tight to him. “Yeah, but as long as they’re happy with it, right?”

She turns her head to look at him with her devastatingly pretty eyes. “Have you done any cool ones this week?”

He makes a show of thinking really hard. “Did a decent snake two days ago.”

“Ooh. Will you post the pictures?”

“Yeah. Haven’t had the time to.”

Faye cradles his face and kisses his cheek. “I’ll be the first person to like it.”

“You always are,” he murmurs, tilting his head back so she can continue her kisses down his neck.

His eyes flutter shut as Faye’s hands run over his arms, gently pressing herself back against him. He feels her breath hitch.

“Faye,” he softly admonishes. “You said you wanted to play the game.” 

“It’s still loading,” she whispers back, shaking him off to be able to turn in his arms again. The force she kisses him with throws him off. He’s pushed back, hands flying out to steady himself against his mattress. She wraps her legs around him and kisses him breathless, her fingers trailing up the sides of his head and then burying themselves into his curls. She presses herself against him again, and then she gently licks at him. Harry welcomes her tongue when he parts his lips.

She kisses him like she hasn’t been kissed properly in years – which is simply untrue because he kisses her until she forgets her name on a routined basis. Faye presses herself even closer, and when the first whine leaves her throat, Harry’s arms are around her, dragging her hips against his. She sighs as if that small contact between them has caused her such release.

The TV makes a noise to tell them the game has finished loading. Faye’s mouth shows no signs of letting him up. Harry pulls up for a second to breathe, and then kisses her again, leaning into her with his hands spread out against her back. They stay there until he’s sliding his fingers under his shirt that she wears, slowly pushing her until she’s laying on her back and Harry’s hovering over her.

“The game,” he whispers.

“Hm?” she manages, rolling her hips against his again, her eyes both innocent and flirty.

He breathes out a swear and then works on pulling the shirt off of her. Faye shivers immediately, but he kisses down her neck and collarbones to warm her up, letting her adjust when she catches onto what he wants to do. She slides back and lets him move further down her body.

“Harry–”

“Yes, baby?”

She changes her mind when Harry’s fingers hook into her underwear. “Oh. Oh, nothing.”

“Tell me,” he says, dragging them down. 

“Well, it’s only that I thought I’d do this for you. Because you, um, picked me up and I wanted to thank you.”

Harry chuckles. “You can do that after this, but right now I have a feeling you’re going to explode if I don’t touch you. Care to tell me what’s got you so worked up? I fucked you so well just two days ago.”

Faye throws a hand over her eyes and Harry doesn’t know if it’s because she’s forced to answer his question while unclothed or if it’s his words that embarrass her. Possibly both.

“It’s because you came to get me and your voice was so deep and raspy and tired and your hand on my thigh and–”

Harry situates himself between her legs and lets her knees come up besides his head. He kisses her soft inner thighs and wraps his arms around them. Faye lifts her head to glance down at him and then moans softly when he licks into her. Slowly. Teasingly.

Her black hair is fanned out around her, her breath coming hard and fast. Her lips are parted, pink and swollen from their kisses. She looks ruined already. Harry will never get used to the sight. He never wants to.

“Fuck,” she whimpers, throwing her head down. Her eyes flutter shut as Harry leans in and takes over completely, his skilled mouth ruthless against her. His fingers dig into her hips, holding her down though she desperately raises herself to meet his mouth.

“Oh, I love you,” she whispers, threading her fingers into his hair. “So much.”

He sucks and licks and laps diligently until her back is gently arching off his mattress and she has to bite down on her knuckles to keep her noises in. Seeing her like this turns Harry on, his body on alert. He feels like every cell of his body has been electrified, but despite his arousal, all he wants is for Faye to fall apart against him.

It doesn’t take her long. Her thighs tremble. She cries out and yanks his hair. The pain is distant to him. Harry lets her use his tongue to ride out her high, and when she’s done, she’s whimpering from sensitivity. Harry only pulls away when she’s whining, “Ah, okay, okay, that’s it, please. No more.”

He grins at her, gently wiping the corners of his mouth. “Always so good for me.”

Faye covers her face. Harry helps her back into her clothes and then lays beside her until she’s ready to turn to him and kiss him. He kisses her hair. “My darling girl,” he whispers. “My baby. So perfect."

She’s straddling him before five minutes are up, her hands resting on his chest, hair falling like curtains around her flushed face. The strands hit Harry’s cheek. His hands are on her thighs again, and he’s smiling lazily at her.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, running his hand up to her waist. 

Faye swallows and grinds down on his length through his sweatpants. “My turn?”

“We can take a break if you w–”

“No,” she says immediately, fingers already pulling Harry’s shirt up. Her eyes hungrily take in every tattoo she slowly reveals. Harry lifts his head to pull the shirt off.

Faye seems to have something in mind already. So Harry just lets her undress him, enjoying the kisses she trails after her hands. She has plenty of energy, preferring to stay on top of him instead of switching back over. 

She works herself over him until she’s throwing her head back and nearly sobbing with relief. Harry watches the pleasure roll over her, her hands in tight fists against his chest. 

“I love you,” she says again, taking deep breaths when it’s over. Her face is a gentle pink, her chest flushed. “I love you so bad, Harry.”

Once he’s pulled out of her, he’s grabbing her waist and pulling her down to him, wrapping his arms around her tight. “I love you,” he says, kissing all over her face, wiping the corners of her eyes. “My pretty girl, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Spent, Faye lets him cuddle her, her face pressed against his neck. His body is warm and as comforting as always. He mutters how much he loves her several more times.

Some time later again, Faye raises her head from his chest and says in her scratchy voice, “Should we play now?”

And Harry kisses her and says, “Yes, baby.”

[gilmore-angel]

everything has changed | aaron hotchner x reader

swiftmas ♱ heyyy.... so this is super late😬. I am now on break so hopefully the future ones will be on time💋

summary ♱ working at a daycare has its perks, a big one being a certain single dad.

warnings ♱ awkward flirting, my lack of understanding how daycares are run, ooc aaron probably cause I haven't watched this show in forever

swiftmas ♱ navigation ♱ follow my library account @baysfics to see when I post!

loud. if you had to use one word to describe your job it would be loud. you of course loved your work, but being completely overwhelmed has become a normal thing.

the end of the day was always the hardest. trying to gather all of the kids items, putting shoes on, getting through checkout, and cleaning up afterwards.

one little boy in particular however made your job a bit easier. Jack Hotchner, an adorable three year old, was polite, well behaved, and sweet. his father, aaron hotchner, was serious but seemed nice.

all you new about him was he worked a lot, and rarely was the one to pick jack up. 90% of the time it was his aunt to come pick him up.

but today was different. when your coworker said jacks parent was here for pickup you help his little winter coat on and backpack and walked with him to the front desk for checkout.

there stood arron, dressed in his usual black suit. his jet black hair was shiny and put together like always. his blank almost cold expression shifted to a much happier one when he saw jack running towards him.

the little boy hugged his father's legs in greeting, receiving a hug in return. you smile as you walk up to aaron and pass him the drawing jack made in class today.

"jack wanted to make sure u gave this to you," aaron smiles softly and takes it, looking over the two little stick figures playing in the snow, representing them.

he glances back up at you, nodding once at you, "thank you. youre jacks main teacher, correct?"

his voice sounding so clear is surprising to you. the most you heard from him was a quiet goodmorning or bye. you would see him mutter words to jack, but they were only for jack to here. the fact he talked to you at all was completely out of the norm.

you feel your cheeks heat up, suddenly realizing now that you have to speak directly to him how handsome he really is.

you smile softly and nod, "yes, I am." you realize too late how awkward you sound.

he nods, reaching out his hand to shake yours, "jack talks about you a lot. you seem to be his favorite here."

your heart swells at that, knowing jack was your favorite too. your heart also skips a beat at the feeling of shaking his hand. his skin is rough, yet his touch is gentle.

"thats so sweet. he brings you up a ton too." your hand drops back to your side and you fiddle with your jeans, suddenly feeling very flustered, a butterfly party happening in your tummy.

he smiles, a bit brighter now. he picks up his son, who is growing more and more tired by the second. he glances away before meeting your eyes again. "I uh, I appreciate all you do for my son. I work a lot out of state so, knowing my son has a good place to go is uh, comforting."

your smile widens, and you chuckle softly, "it my pleasure. he's a great kid."

you both continue to hold eye contact, your breathing calming a bit. he has kind eyes. tired ones, yes, but kind. he finally breaks the little bit of silence by clearing his throat, glancing down.

"well uh, we should be heading out. thank you again." before you can speak again he walks out, son in his arms.

even after he has disappeared from your eye site, you continue to stand and tare at where he was. you almost feel giddy, like a teenager who just met their new crush. you snap out of your daze when you realize you still need to help with checkout. you quickly get back to it, but can't help but thinking that everything has changed.

[sunbloomdew]

the way to the moon is about holding on (to the promise you don't even remember making, to the person you loved, to the life you never got to live but refuse to give up). it's johnny choosing to be with river time and time again, it's johnny holding on to all the paper rabbits river made even if he didn't know their significance, it's river keep trying to remind johnny of their shared past, it's river giving up her treatment so a place that means the world to her is protected, it's eva and neil trying their hardest to send johnny to the moon, it's eva taking the risk in hopes of making it

the way finding paradise is about letting go (of your mistakes, of the unrealistically perfect life you never lived, of the person who helped you through your darkest times but who now keeps you stuck in the past). it's colin letting go of faye despite being afraid, it's colin keep replacing pages in his book with new ones, it's faye knowing that colin never needed sigmund's help, it's faye telling colin he has to let go of her if he wants to live fully, it's neil and eva trusting faye despite what it means for them, it's neil taking the risk in hopes of making it

[sunfloweraro]

LUtober day 22: Echoes

Wind has some questions about Four’s shadow. Four takes great joy in messing with him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

“Hey, um… Four?”

“Good evening, Wind.”

“Yeah…” Wind said, uncertain. Hesitant. “Can I ask you something?”

“If you’d like,” Four said, his attention on warming his hands over the fire. Wind wasn’t watching Four; he was watching his shadow. The thing seemed to have a mind of its own, swaying this way and that. As if sensing his eyes on it, Four’s shadow waved at him.

“Four…” Wind readied his sword. Once Four knew what lay behind him, they would only have a second to act. “Your shadow is moving by itself.”

Except Four only hummed, disinterested. He made no move to grab his sword. “Shadows are interesting,” he said. “They’re like an echo of us, aren’t they?” Four examined his hand, as if considering something only he understood.

“What?” Wind asked, gobsmacked. “No, Four—your shadow is literally moving by itself. It waved at me!”

“Echoes sure are interesting, aren’t they?” Four asked, in that painfully irritating way of his that told Wind he full-well knew why his shadow wasn’t behaving as it should, and that Four wouldn’t be sharing no matter how hard Wind pushed.

Wind threw his hands up, tossing his sword to the side for the night and making a beeline for his bedroll. “You know what, I’m too tired for this. Goodnight.” And he collapsed into his cosy blankets, discarding any and all thoughts of Four’s odd shadow.

Behind him, Four smirked, reaching out to place a hand over his shadow’s, eyes alight with mirth.

[faye-writes-stuff]

welp here we go again

INCORRECT QUOTES TIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

---------------

Y/n: petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday Dream: Wednesay Y/n: Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible

---------------

Y/n: Dream, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power! Dream: Well of course I have. Dream: Have you ever tried going mad without power? Dream: It's boring.

---------------

Y/n: Today is a day of running through hurdles. Ranboo: Aren’t you supposed to jump OVER hurdles? Y/n: Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.

---------------

Y/n: Ranboo... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor? Ranboo: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned. Y/n: Y/n: I wrote sanitize, Ranboo

---------------

Y/n: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail Sapnap: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t’ve used my one phone call to prank call the police

---------------

Y/n: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Sapnap: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

---------------

George: Welcome, fellow idiots Y/n: Hello, George George: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot Y/n: You underestimate me

---------------

George: *Gets down on one knee* Y/n: Oh my god, it’s finally happening. George: *Falls over* Y/n: The poison is kicking in.

---------------

Tommy: Change is inedible. Y/n: Don't you mean inevitable? Tommy, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

---------------

Tommy: Ok, maybe playing ‘whose family is most dysfunctional’ wasn’t the best idea we’ve had. Y/n's been crying in the bathroom for an hour. We can’t get them out...

---------------

Tubbo: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running? Y/n: Oh, I’m always running Y/n: The question is from what

---------------

Tubbo: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Y/n: It’s not a joke. Y/n: *sniffles* Y/n: I’m a legit snack.

---------------

Foolish: Lol heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this lmfao Y/n: What did you do op? Foolish: A MISTAKE

---------------

Y/n: Foolish... Foolish: Oh no, 'Foolish' in b-flat. Foolish: You're disappointed.

---------------

Technoblade: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Y/n: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Technoblade, desperately, as Y/n bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Y/n: Oh! B positive. Technoblade: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Y/n:

---------------

Technoblade, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something. Y/n: I saw a squirrel in a tree today! Technoblade, with the tone of someone who is used to Y/n: Outstanding. Technoblade: This is what I’m talking about people.

---------------

Technoblade: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Y/n: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Technoblade: Absolutely not.

---------------

i accidentally hit post on this too early so if you saw this b4 it was finished- no you didn't

ANYWAYS enjoy, because the last one got over 300 likes so

ic master list :)

[v4mpgutz]

⊹₊ ⋆ CUT & SEWN JUST FOR: @violet-1scrazy

₊˚꒰🎀꒱‧ BABYDOLL DRESSES : ethan landry, 'in a good way' by faye webster.

⊹˚. ౨ৎ 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐘, 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲

❝ i didn't know that i was capable of bein' happy right now, but you showed me how. ❞

warnings — sfw, reader is stressed, mild academic stress, petnames (angel, baby etc), hurt/comfort, reader's gender is not mentioned. ethan is a corny dork. reader n ethan just loving eachothef.

it was no secret to your boyfriend that you'd been having a hard time lately. it was becoming increasingly harder for you to pull yourself out of bed and the fact that you had 3 overdue assignments didn't help much.

you groaned and turned your alarm to snooze when it went off, rolling over and closing your eyes as you tried to get comfortable. you heard your door click open but made no move to get up and see who it was, your answer given to you by the sound of the intruder's footsteps.

"baby?" ethan spoke up as he sat on the edge of your bed, his right hand resting on your shoulder as the left reached out to gently trace the curves of your face.

"i'm asleep," you grumbled as your eyes remained closed. "leave me to my misery."

ethan let out a soft laugh as he pulled you to turn towards him, you eventually giving up and opening your eyes.

"c'mon, please?" he asked, his eyes taking in your features as they brightened in hue from the sun rays. "i made you french toast and some tea."

you blinked slowly and gave him a sleepy smile, "chamomile?"

ethan leant down to press a gentle kiss to your nose with a grin. "chamomile," he confirmed with a nod.

you gave a sigh and hauled your upper body into a sitting position, stretching with a satisfying pop of your joints. "god, i'm still so behind."

your boyfriend frowned and held your hands in his as he saw the exhausted look on your face. "don't worry about that right now, you haven't eaten properly in days. c'mon, lets go eat something, hm?"

you reluctantly agreed as he helped you out of bed, pulling you by your waist into a hug before he lead you by your hand into the kitchen/dining room of your small apartment. you rubbed your eyes sleepily as you sat on a stool at the bench.

in front of you was a vintage floral ceramic plate with crispy bacon, french toast with maple syrup and powdered sugar and a mug of chamomile tea.

you glanced up at ethan with a smile creeping upon your lips. he looked so happy with himself, he was glad you were finally going to eat a proper meal and he felt even better that he was the one to cook it for you. your nose became tingly with the need to cry as the tears pooled in your waterline.

"eth..." you mumbled and gave a sniffle.

ethan immediately freaked out, his face morphing into concern as he rounded the counter and cupped your face. "why're you crying, angel?" he whispered softly as his left thumb wiped the streaks that ran down your face.

"i just love you so much," you told him as your bottom lip quivered. "so so much, you make me so happy, e."

he let out a breath in relief and nodded, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. "i love you too, sweetness. c'mon, have some food now, okay?"

you nodded and began to dig into your breakfast, taking occasional sips of tea as ethan sat next to you. you were unbothered as he sat next to you, his hand tracing circles into the back of your hand as you ate.

you saw the way he looked at you in your peripheral and almost melted, your hands clammy and hot.

"why are you lookin' at me like that?" you giggled as you hid a smile. "i'm sure there are plenty of other interesting things in this world."

"the world?" ethan hummed softly, his head moving to rest on his free hand as he smiled wider; if that was even possible. "it's right in front of me."

your eyes widened as you let out a cough, looking down as you continued to push the final few pieces of bacon around your plate. god, you thought, why does he have to be so stupidly cute and corny.

"you're so cute when you're all flustered, baby," ethan teased with a grin.

"shut up."

RIVER'S BLURB:

thank you so much for this submission, lovely!! i had so much fun writing this especially bc i loveeee faye webster <3 had to give my love to "you make me cry in a good way" with that little scene ofc! kicking off the event requests with yours as the first :D

[moonandris]

✨NEW WRITEBLR TAG GAME JUST DROPPED✨

If you're struggling with breathing life into your OC's, try this funny yet stupidly simple trick/writeblr tag game I just came up with. I call it the 'Roast Your OCS and Make It Into a Title' tag game. 🤣

So, we've all heard of fictional character archetypes and stereotypes that are often present in fiction, right? We all know it's not good to have shallow, surface level characters that have no complexity or nuance to their personalities, because real life humans contain multitudes, contradictions, and are in general very complicated beings.

Throw all that shit out for this exercise and toss it into the trash! 🗑️ In this tag game, we're gonna be reducing all our OC's to the most basic, mundane, stereotypical/archetypal renditions of themselves and making it Fit Into a Title!

Here's an example of my main character + his besties from my Science Fantasy WIP:

Cold and Stoic Pretty Boy Loaner With Social Anxiety and Unhealed Trauma Tries to Save His Sister

Disowned Goth Femme Fatale With Bitchy Yet Gentle Attitude Is Socially Neglected and Cries A Lot

Occasionally Serious Himbo City Boy Cop Tries and Fails to Fight Crime With Therapy and Rehabilitation

Snobby Know-It-All Imperial Man Who Somehow Has Both A Superiority and Inferiority Complex

Protective Amazonian Lesbian Sadist Who Will Absolutely Step On You and Ruin Your Life Forever

Gifted Slutty Bisexual Boy Genius Is Hiding a Dark Secret and Is Very Zesty (Rude) About It

For this tag game I'm gonna be tagging A LOT of people but mainly people who've interacted with me recently. Free to reblog if you see this on your dash, even if you're not tagged. I find this shit HILARIOUS and I would love to see what everyone manages to come up with! No pressure at all if you don't wanna participate, this is all just for fun. ❤️😊

@in-heavens-trenches @revenantlore @cupandquillcafe @fattybattysblog @eames-with-a-rose

@gailynovelry @kestalsblog @dru-reads-writeblr @druidx @indigowriting

@diabolical-blue @writercoracain @tildeathiwillwrite @craig-h-stuart @illarian-rambling

@coarsely @rjcopeseethemald @jackiezenauthor @squarebracket-trickster @kaylinalexanderbooks

@pen-of-roses @flock-from-the-void @sarandipitywrites @buffythevampirelover @imsaanvikhanna

@songsofsomnia @shadow-of-tea-and-tea @owlsandwich @faeriecinna @hauntedluminarybbq

@sarahlizziewrites @ayzrules @rickie-the-storyteller @janec23

If you want some extra help you can also look up character stereotypes/archetypes like I did. There's hundreds of blog posts about this topic but here's some helpful links so you can judge/roast your OC's to your heart's content:

[mx-sinisters]

sin’s twelve days of christmas gifts; 2023

spike spiegel & faye valentine ❄ happy holidays @kiraannwrites

[fair-fae]

FFxivWrite24 Entry #6: Halcyon

FFxivWrite 2024 Prompt #6: Halcyon It was a lazy summer day like any other in the Black Shroud, humid heat hanging heavy in the air outside the Covington manor, a marvel of tall, white marble and manicured gardens that stood in stark contrast to the wild woods surrounding it, either a bastion or a blight of mankind among the expanse of nature. Faye rested upon a bench outside her home, a half-emptied and forgotten cup of tea sat surely now cold beside her as she focused on her embroidery–or tried to, anyway. It was a quiet afternoon, only the birdsongs and the ambient buzzing of insects breaking the silence. That was, until Zularti had found a long, skinny stick and decided to pretend it was a spear. He paced around the garden, thrusting the stick this way and that, adding in sound effects and striking occasionally at a nearby tree, fighting off invisible foes. Faye did her best to tune him out, quite accustomed to his antics by now, and kept her focus on her needlework and the piece of fabric in her hands. Suddenly, however, her attention was stolen away as the boy suddenly exclaimed. “Guhhh! I’m so boooored!” He easily snapped the stick over his knee, tossing the two halves aside and wiping away the sweat that matted his dark auburn hair to his brow before he dramatically collapsed onto the grass. Faye heaved a sigh, giving up on her task and setting her embroidery hoop aside. “You could try doing something useful for once,” she offered helpfully. “You could try shutting up for once,” he muttered in a mockery of her own tone, squinting up at the sun bearing down on him from the cloudless sky. Perhaps she should have appreciated those days more, when life was simple and everything was peaceful, when all the horrors of the world were far away things that happened to other people and there was no cause for pain or want. But the truth was, she was bored, too.

[sunsburns]

imagine asking wade if he still likes you when he’s literally inside you LMAOOO I just know he’d be so flabbergasted

i know a normal people fan when i see one (18+, fluff)

but jokes aside, and dicks inside, wade would likely get whiplash; his head turning so fast he can hear a crack in his neck, staring at you like you're crazy because just seconds ago you'd been running your gentle hands over his skin. your fingers brush against the divots of his scarred skin, your cheek pressed to his chest, humming softly, close enough that your lashes tickle whenever you blink.

wade's a little out of breath, sticky with sweat, and miraculously, rendered speechless. to others, a rarity, but with you, while still rare, is more frequent, especially after sex.

sure, he drops a joke or two, but there is a window where wade likes to sit there, holding you, skin against skin, in silence; listening to the sounds of your shaky breaths as you come down from your high, the sounds of the bedsheets ruffling with slow movements from the both of you, even the sounds of the old crackly fan on his ceiling.

and so, in that small window of silence, the two of you lay there in a warm embrace, listening to each other's heartbeats as wade's dick slowly softens inside you.

but then that small window starts to close, the silence breaking with you. you shift, turning to press your chin against wade's chest while looking up at him, "hey," you whisper, a smile growing against your lips.

"hi," he whispers back to you, but he continues to stare at the window, watching the soft light of the rising sun peeking in through the white lace curtains you picked out, a part of you in the dingy apartment he shared with blind al.

"we've officially gone at it all night. fucking like rabbits. and i can't believe i'm saying this but, i'm fucking spent. i might need a few weeks to recover. i asked for a bone and you threw a whole skeleton at me, peanut."

you snort, rolling your eyes, "yeah, right."

"okay, fine, a week is too long." wade hums, he finds your hair and runs his hand over it, twirling a strand around his finger, "i'll be good as new by tonight or at least by the time you scroll to read another fic of me, of course."

you're still staring at him, and wade, ever the observant, notices. he shifts, sits up, holds onto your waist, and brings you up with him. you have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan, sensitive to the way he's touching you, the way his dick keeps you full.

wade raises his brows (or at least, where his brows would be), "what? is there something on my face? i know i'm ugly but i thought we were past that. your staring is making me a little self conscious, sweetbuns."

"wade?"

"yes, cupcake?"

"do you like me?"

"what-?" he stares at you, eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head. "do i- what? what the fuck kind of stupid ass fuck ass question is that? you think i don't like you? we literally fucked all night. literally did every position in the book. i let you peg me! you might be the only person on earth that matches my freak-"

"yeah, i know but-"

"bitch, i'm literally still inside you."

that's when you can't help but laugh, grinning against his neck when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. you love the way his body emits warmth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer like you want to live inside his skin.

wade holds you, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. and he groans loudly when you say, "you never answered my question."

"oh my god," he huffs dramatically, "of course i fucking like you. like no shit."

"okay, great. i was just making sure."

[fayes-fics]

Hey friend! I have a word for you. I hope it helps get your words going. My word is: Precipice

Love ya! :D

Precipice [Drabble]

Nov 2023 One-Word Drabbles Masterpost

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem! reader.

Warnings: 18 + smut, minors DNI, vaginal sex

Authors Note: Hi lovely! 🫶 Haha, someone knows I use this word far too much when describing orgasms.... yeah I need to learn some new vocab. 🥴 Anyway, why break the habit of a lifetime? it's an excellent excuse for some filth, so here... under the cut. Thanks for your ask, my dear! Love ya too!! 😁🧡🧡

Anthony grabs your wrist and brings your hand to his face, biting down on the meat of your palm and growling, his other hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your screams. 

His pace doesn't waver, driving into your body almost mercilessly, fucking you so hard against the wall your spine feels the roughness of the stone abraiding the silk of your dress that is hitched up around your hips. 

Your legs wrap tighter around his thighs, squeezing so you are locked together. The way he snarls your name hot into your flesh is what pushes you over the precipice, your eyes rolling shut as you go limp in his arms; everything in your body seems to snap as you shudder and convulse, surrounded by him.

Taglist: none as this is a short drabble.

[crescentlyautumn]

I am looking at @emberfaye @the-cookie-of-doom ,and @snickerdoodlles specifically for this one. (Look at what you three have done!… thank you.)

Kim wanted to collapse after his day. Filming for a music video three days in a row was not fun. He didn’t want to see another makeup artist for the next week. And he felt like he’d bust a camera into little bitty pieces if one appeared right now.

He stripped almost immediately after entering the apartment him and Chay shared, and scrubbed layer after layer of makeup from his skin, as well as whatever they had put in his hair to set it this time. Once he was feeling somewhat normal again, Kim pulled one of Chay’s t-shirts from the closet on over his head, and breathed deep.

The scent of Chay was magic at making him feel more relaxed – and until Chay came back from classes, this would have to do. Slipping on some old sweatpants, Kim returned back to the bathroom to scrub his mouth clean of the dry, icky feeling of the day.

As he was preparing his toothbrush, he saw it – his bare neck. His agitation and grumpy mood now doubled. Chay hadn’t left a single mark in days because of this shoot. Not a single hicky or bite mark colored his neck, and it honestly made Kim feel off.

Wearing Chay’s marks was grounding. It was something that made him feel special and wanted. To know that he was so loved and important to someone, and that they wanted him to know it every time he looked in the mirror. It made Kim feel something curl up warm and tight in his chest seeing exactly where Chay’s mouth had laid claim to him.

And now he felt cold and bare looking at his perfectly flawless neck.

Kim brushed his teeth at lightning speed, before padding back out and curling up on the sofa in the living room. Kim tried not to think about it. His leg bounced as his feelings intensified, and no amount of tv or doom scrolling on social media could stop it.

Kim was a dog with a bone. A very Chay-shaped bone, and he wasn’t going to let it go for anything. Checking his phone, Kim saw that Chay still had about an hour left before he’d be back.

Kim could do this. He could last an hour.

Kim moved into the kitchen, threw himself into cooking a meal, but his mind immediately went back to Chay.

Had Chay ate? What would he want to eat for dinner? How hungry would he be? Too hungry to mark his-

Nope! Kim left the half-cut vegetables sitting on the cutting board, and moved back to the sofa to stop his thoughts. He picked up his guitar and began to idly strum some chords. His fingers moved, but his mind stayed exactly where it had been – pacing an ever growing worn spot on his mental carpet.

Chay would think he was needy for wanting him to mark him first thing when he got home. Was he needy? No, he just liked his boyfriend’s mouth on him. That was totally normal and not needy of boyfriends, right? Wanting his skin littered with proof that Chay wanted him, as much as he wanted Chay, was absolutely normal and not needy.

Kim – lost in his thoughts – almost missed the sound of the locks on the front door disengaging and opening. Almost. Bolting up, Kim half ran to the entrance and felt his body react accordingly to seeing that familiar mop of black hair, and large doe-like eyes.

“P’Kim! Your back-oof!” Chay’s words were cut short as Kim crowded him against the wall. Kim crashed their lips together, and felt the all-too-familiar zing of electricity shoot down his spine as he did. Kim felt the way Chay’s body vibrated under him as a series of giggles slipped past their moving lips.

Pulling away, Chay finally let out the last bit of his laughter. “I think you missed me,” Chay teased.

Only a lot. Kim’s brain supplied for him before he could shoot it down. Kim moved to resume their previous make-out session, but was stopped by Chay tugging at the back of Kim’s hair. Kim let out a small hiss – not because it hurt, but because it sent a whole new wave of pleasure through him.

Chay’s eyes had darkened, and he looked somehow sinful, yet adorable, as he cocked his head to the side to look at Kim. Tugging gently at the hair still trapped between his fingers, Chay scanned Kim’s face, looking for something.

“What is it you want, love?” Chay’s words sent another zing down his spine, but also a lick of something bitter with it. Why did he have to say it? Why couldn’t Chay just know what Kim wanted and do it? He probably did know, but Chay wanted Kim to tell him, but Kim didn’t know how.

He couldn’t just say “mark me till I know I’m yours without question,” because that was definitely needy. But he also knew Chay would like that. Chay would definitely, positively like that.

Kim felt a few more tugs on his hair, as Chay waited for him to find the words, which were proving difficult to get out. Swallowing a worrying amount, Kim finally found his voice, “Mark me. Mark me till I know I’m yours.”

“Good boy,” was the last thing Kim heard Chay say, before he felt the warm and wet suction of Chay’s mouth on his neck. Kim was in heaven as Chay sucked and bit at his neck. He didn’t care about the sounds he was making or the fact he was basically clawing the wall behind Chay.

It felt glorious to finally have the thing that he most wanted and the knowledge that after Chay was done with him, he’d have the most beautiful necklace of proof that Chay loved him, and that he was Chay’s. And that was exactly what he always wanted. Forever.

[brighteststar707]

Just thought about Saeyoung being doomed in so many of mysme's storylines and felt a little ill

[liebgottsjumpwings]

AUGUST AFTERNOON | FAYE FISCHER | MASTERS OF THE AIR

Summary: Faye Fischer and her newly acquired friend Ken Lemmons spend a sunny afternoon at Thorpe Abbotts, Faye thinks about the past few years and is then (not so) rudely interrupted by a certain curly haired pilot. Who had managed to make her blush several times some days ago.

Warnings: general war violence, implied minor (and not canon) character death.

Word count: a bit over 2500

Note: this was meant to be a little less than 1k word blurb, turned into way more. I hope it isn't too boring as most of it delves into Faye's experiences before the mota canon. That is also because I use my ocs to study certain historical events, so this really is just self indulgence. Please pretty please let me know what you think of it! (This fic is also posted on AO3)

AUGUST 21, 1943, 16:32 

“What kind of name is ‘Just-a-Snappin’ even?” Faye Fischer wondered out loud, only half expecting an answer from the man in front of her as she came to sit up from her lying position in the grass. She squinted, just about able to make out the text on the B-17 Ken Lemmons was working on. Her squint disappeared as he came into her sight, blocking the warm ray of sunshine she had been enjoying moments prior, her eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “You’re gonna have to ask Blakely that one,” answered the curly haired man standing in her sun. Looking at him, she wondered why he would hide those curls under that beanie. Probably so all that working grease wouldn’t get into it. 

Faye shrugged, letting herself fall back into the grass. “Whenever I ask Blakely a question, the man answers with a goddamn riddle,” she let the end of her sentence continue into a sigh. Ken just laughed, his hands firm on his hips. The sun made the edge of his curls shine, almost like an aureole. Visually, him standing in her sun wasn’t so bad, it looked quite pretty. Her skin was starting to miss the warmth of the sun rays, though. Faye’s fingertips tapped on the cap of her camera lens, the Contax II had been laying on her stomach, under one of Ken’s work rags, to shield it from the sun. “Keep standing like that,” Faye ordered him as she removed the cap from the lens, turning on her camera. 

“Aren’t you only supposed to use that for… you know… work purposes?” she heard him ask as she fiddled with the exposure settings. A scoff escaped past her lips as she lined up the viewfinder with her left eye. “Shut up, they made me pay for my own film rolls when I arrived in England, so they’re mine technically anyway” Faye deadpanned in response, snapping a photo of Ken. “Besides,” she continued, putting her camera back under the rag again, letting her head fall back into the grass, “don’t you think the photo I just took wouldn’t go over well with all those war bond leaflets?” She held up her hands, reading an imaginary leaflet “Purchase a war bond so our curly haired cuties can maintain our bomber planes!” she sarcastically called out. It earned a belly-laugh from Ken, who then turned around, readying himself to get back to his maintenance work as he continued laughing, “I hope to God not.” Faye smiled in response, “Yeah, well, I’ve taken more leisure photos on this camera than the OSS would be comfortable knowing. It is only fair because nearly all film rolls were mine anyway,” she trailed off, closing her eyes again as the warm August sun blanketed her. 

The warmth took her back to August, nearly three years back, 1940. To the emerging hills behind Mulhouse, in the occupied region of the Alsace in France. Back then, she too had snapped a photo that the OSS would turn their noses up at. She couldn’t help it, though, the sleepy little cottage the, back then, above ground resistance she was attached to used as their base of operations was too pretty against the sunny hills. Plus, the whole rule against taking photos that do not directly aid the war effort was bullshit anyway. They increased her morale, no? Surely a heightened sense of morale would aid the war effort. Just like her friend, and resistance member Isidore was aiding the war effort by developing the photos Faye had taken recently. His girlfriend, Julienne, a distant cousin of Faye’s neighbors back in Louisiana, the Klotz family, laid next to her in the grass, yelling at her sweetheart to stop working so hard and join them in the warm sum. She still remembered the minty smell of the Ground Ivy that tickled against her cheeks in the field near the cottage as she watched Isidore exit the cottage, some of the successfully developed photos under his arm, he dropped them above the two women. The photographs whirled softly down onto them, like those propaganda leaflets that had recently been dropping from planes over the region. The association made her chuckle. She much preferred these photographs over those leaflets. 

Oh, how she longed back to be in that sleepy little field just behind Mulhouse. Unknowing and indifferent to what was about to wash over her. Over her dear friends. Over her distant relatives, up north in Sélestat.  How she wished to gain that sense of unknowing and indifference once more. The fleeting feeling of walking back home from the shul on those warm August evenings, taking the train from Mulhouse towards Sélestat, being greeted by her grandmother’s second brother, the one who stayed behind in Alsace. Being taken in to his family, learning about their extensive history and connection to this land. It made her feel proud, like her family here. All of that despite the impending feeling of calamity. That feeling grew more and more with each news item about the Germans inching closer. Forcing themselves back into the territory they’ve claimed as theirs for eras. This time, it came paired with a terrifying venom against a group of people so deeply rooted in this region. 

After the annexation of the Alsace into Nazi-Germany, the resistance group Faye had been attached to by the OSS was forced to go underground. Her work, instead of reporting back to the OSS on current events in the border region between France and Germany, became a high-risk operation that aided the Alsatian resistance in its activities against the Nazi occupier. When it happened, the OSS had forbidden her to associate publicly with her family and the community she had built up. They deemed it ‘too riskful’. And because Faye had no choice, she listened to those orders. And just like that, her growing connection with her ancestral home region, her family, the core of her very identity was snapped away. Just as quick as it had flourished. She watched the treatment of her people become more and more dire every day. She watched and she could do nothing but watch. Nothing outward anyway. In secret, she was doing more than she ever had done. Risking everything to make it harder for the Nazis to spread their hatred and evil. In return, she got the gnarly gift of having to distance herself from the recently cultivating bond with her family that lived halfway across the world from her. 

Yes, she still had Isidore, Julienne and the rest of their group. Though, as they were forced to become underground, a painful strain started to form on their friendship. Understandably so, tensions were high, risks were always there and the imminent feeling of doom never stopped looming over the group. 

Which ended up being for good reason. Come the early February days of 1943, Faye found herself with her left cheek pressed into the cold ground where the minty Ground Ivy once grew. The barrel of a Karabiner 98A straight against her right cheek. She still wasn’t sure who gave up their activities to the SS. She wasn’t sure if she cared enough by then either way. Or now, for that matter. In the two and a half years that spanned from that first summer in Alsace to February of 1943, Faye had grown disillusioned to the point that she wasn’t even sure if she cared about living, or dying. Maybe it was for the better that death seemed so close. That it came to her in the form of a German rifle. 

That was until she remembered why her family decided to migrate to the United States. Back in the late 19th century, the Jews of the Alsace were already facing hardships. And it was those hardships that made her grandparents decide that from there on out, their family line would not suffer under those hardships anymore. So they set sail to Louisiana, because their children, and their children, and their children (and so on), deserved a life of flourishing. So it was there, February 1943, with the cold barrel of a Karabiner 98A pressed to her face, that Faye decided that she would honor that wish. She would not die at the hands of those who wished her dead. 

She wasn’t sure how, but she ran, she ran until her feet gave out and Isidore made them duck into a dense shrub. His face stained with dirt, much like hers. And through the dirt on his face, tears traced their paths. Then it dawned on her that Julienne hadn’t made it out with them. Faye hoped with everything she had in her dear friend wasn’t left out, alone in that cold field. But there wasn’t much time for hoping. They had to make it to safety. To a place where they couldn’t be reached by those who were looking for them. 

Switzerland. Within a few days of frantic fleeing, both of them somehow made it to Basel, just over the border. Isidore’s previously tear-filled eyes had turned empty by then. And Faye feared for him. She feared for everyone they had to leave behind. The fear didn’t leave her when she walked away from the hospital she had helped Isidore to, so his wounds could be looked at. Not caring much for her own, and after the OSS had been made aware of her whereabouts, they had arranged a route to England for her. To ‘escape’ the risk she found herself in, according to the OSS. She still scoffs at the mention of ‘risk’, the OSS would never fully know. And so, after a goodbye ‘for now’ and a promise to keep in touch, she departed for the train station of Basel, on towards Bern, and from there, hopefully England. She watched the fields roll by, they were barren, empty of life. She tried to not let it remind her of Julienne too much. Hoping that her friend had somehow made it to safety, like her sweetheart and Faye.

Her memories were disturbed by the warm sun once again being taken away from her. This time, it wasn’t because a certain crew chief by the name of Ken Lemmons was standing in between her and her blanket of warmth, it was because Faye hadn’t noticed the time pass by and the sun having moved behind the officer’s buildings on the air base. She let out a groan at the feeling of her back cracking as she sat up, her camera falling into her lap. Slowly opening her eyes, to her surprise, ‘Just-a-Snappin’ had been exchanged for a different airplane. Though, her eyes were too blurry from the sun shining onto them, to make out the name. These damn pilots and their airplane names. 

What she did make out was Ken and what seemed to be a pilot, standing by the plane as Ken pointed out several things on the wing. The pilot nodding, seemingly intently listening to Ken. Faye, after rubbing her eyes intensely, was able to make out more of the scene in front of her. Her sight darted towards the plane again, reading. ‘Rosie's Riveters,’ she mouthed the words. Way better name for a plane than whatever Blakely was thinking with his one, Faye thought. Her gaze moved over to Ken and the still unknown pilot again. Squinting, she could make out the brown curls, kept small and neatly arranged on top of his head. The 100th and their tendency to hide their gorgeous curls irrationally annoyed Faye to no end. She eternally cursed Ken for hiding them behind his beanie, too. She looked back to the nose of the plane, ‘Rosie’s Riveters.’ Oh. Robert Rosenthal. The man that had made her blush the other night without even knowing he had. Robert Rosenthal had arrived at Thorpe Abbotts some two weeks after Faye herself did. She had been sitting with Helen and the other women as she watched him come into the officers’ club, his feet carrying him, dancing towards his crewmates. It was his little twist and the way his jacket moved in the air flow created by it; itt had been the first time she smiled that day. And Helen noticed. Sending Faye a teasing look as she dug the nose of her shoe into Faye’s shin. The action made Faye’s cheeks turn bright red, sinking deeper into her seat, disappearing into the shadow of the curved wall as she let out a soft, intoxicated giggle. 

It wasn’t much later, after Nash had successfully achieved a dance from Helen, that Rosenthal’s eyes locked with Faye’s. The same red from before creeping up from her throat to her cheeks as she gave him a shy smile. His returning smile was beaming, like a direct ray of sunlight across the room. She would receive a few more of such smiles from him throughout the night.

Now, with his pilot’s hat snug under his arm, Faye could see him smile at Ken, a thankful smile. And who wouldn’t be thankful for Ken Lemmons. The man worked tirelessly to send them up safely into the air. But, oh she was sure it was Robert Rosenthal standing there, alright. Yeah, that smile, of which she had been on the receiving end several times now, she recognized it. The familiar, uneasy yet welcomed feeling creeped up in her stomach again. She could feel the flush in her throat. Combined with the hours of direct sunlight she had received over the afternoon, remembering their shared looks made her slightly lightheaded as she rose to her feet. Hoping to quietly leave, as to not gain the perception of both men standing some feet away from her. 

Mission unsuccessful, though, damn it. “Fish!” she heard Ken call her. Her arms dropped beside her body as she turned around, her camera swinging with a little delay. She caught it, so it wouldn’t hit her on her stomach. For some stupid reason, her breathing increased in frequency as she watched the two men walk over to her. She had to consciously try to not take a step backward everytime they took one forward. She tried to keep her eyes strictly on Ken.“You think that is a better name for a plane?” he asked, pointing towards the B-17. Her eyes followed his pointing, reading the text on the nose of the plane for a third time. Before she realized, she already voiced her opinion. “I think naming anything but a pet or a human is a weird thing anyway,” she retorted, eyes dead set on Ken. Next to him, she heard a chuckle. “I’m actually quite proud of ‘Rosie’s Riveters’” she heard the curly haired brunette next to Ken say. There was no fighting it anymore, she had to actually look at him now. And she was sure you could compare the color of her cheeks to the apples they served in the breakfast hall, bright red. Still, like she always did, she came up with a retort; “Well, it’s better than Blakely’s, I guess,” she said, a sly, yet slightly shy smile appearing on her lips. The brunette in front of her let out a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling. It tugged at Faye’s heartstrings, “Yeah, I’ll take that.” he said. And there it was again, that goddamned smile.