#i challenged myself to stay under 500 words

[voidcat-senket]

"Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss"

Spyscrapper #38 "…because they’re running out of time."

but also Altmal #48 "…out of habit."

Spyscrapper #38 "…because they’re running out of time."

He’s not even shaking anymore. Cal sighs out another long, slow breath from where he’s tucked against Bode. He blinks slowly. The orange of his lightsaber reflects on the metal of Bode’s harness buckle, a flicker of flame. They’ve been here two days, in this cave under a lake, the entrance crumbled behind them, sealed in. Two days drinking the trickle that makes it through the impenetrable layers of rock. Three days, no food- but it’s the breath that’s the problem. Soon, they’ll run out of air. He can already feel how every breath feels thready and not-enough, and blinks when the lights seem to dance in his eyes, low as they are. Bode’s chest rises and falls under him. They’ve curled up, ostensibly, for warmth, but it’s the comfort Cal seeks– needs– most, the comfort of another. He might die here, but he won’t die alone. Bode may not be a Jedi, but he is family now, and getting to die with family- that’s something he thought he’d never get to have.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t talk,” Bode mumbles, a divot pressing between his brows. It’s shorthand, by now. ‘Conserve air as long as possible. Don’t talk, don’t exercise. Someone might come. Greez is looking, he’s always looking after you.’

Cal reached for Bode’s hand. Bode’s fingers curl around his, thumb pressed to the ridges of Cal’s knuckles.

“It’s my fault you’re here, that you’ll die here…” He scoots closer, props his chin on their tangled hands so he can look at Bode’s face.” …And despite that, I’m still glad you’re here with me. So I’m sorry.” Bode’s mouth flattens in response, his closed eyes tightening. Bode turns his head, and when he speaks it’s rough with feeling more than disuse. “Scrapper, don’t.”

“I know…” Cal smiles tightly. All things end. He thought he’d have longer. This is a gentle death, as they go. But Bode- has Kata. “I took you away from someone that needs you.”

Bode flinches. He tries to roll over, but he’s weak and Cal is heavier than he looks. 

“I was being selfish. I wanted more time with you to myself.”

Bode’s eyes crack open, and there’s a look of pure, naked fear Cal has never seen there before- a vulnerability he’s never seen before that injects warmth in his veins. His smile gentles as he brushes a tear from the corner of Bode’s left eye. “I guess I took everything that was left.”

Bode twists, dislodging Cal to shove his face into Cal’s chest- hiding against it. Cal blinks up at the ceiling before curling his hand under Bode’s chin and lifting it from him. He props himself up on one elbow and presses forward.

One last wish. His lips meet Bode’s. They’re shockingly soft.

There’s a whiplash crack through his awareness and water floods the room.

Altmal #48 "…out of habit."

He’s tired. He’s tired more than anything, sore from fighting and sorer from the death of so many of his brothers. There’s a pain he can’t handle in his chest, twisted and strange, and for now he can only attribute it to the golden light that Al Mualim had wielded.

Sleeping again in Masyaf feels strange, unreal. He hasn’t been here since he left, his left arm still bloody and bandaged, for Jerusalem. The room he once shared with Altair and Kadar seems far too small for one adult, and he wonders how the three of them ever fit here- not that Altair was supposed to. That boy had had a room of his own. He’d never liked it, though, and he always complained that it was too cold, if asked. If asked why he was sneaking into their room, into their shared pile of blankets on the cot on the floor- when all were asleep.

It’s morning. He should get up. He should assist the survivors with cleanup.

He rode here so quickly yesterday. The fields soaked up so much blood. He slips back into the daze of half-sleep.

Time travels with the sun.

The light leaves his window but still, he hasn’t gotten up. His stomach grumbles, but he ignores it by practice. He’d hear if more fighting was needed. He’d always been able to hear the courtyard from this narrow little window.

He drifts back to sleep. A bird lands on the sill, screeches when it notices him, and flies away. He drifts back to sleep.

There’s a commotion in the yard. The voices are garbled at first, but with careful listening he picks out a tearful reunion. Brothers that had thought each other lost. He drifts back to sleep. A warm body presses under his arm, as Altair and Kadar always used to, one or the other, Altair from late training and Kadar from his midnight walks. He huffs as they squirm to comfort, and kisses the head of hair when it finally stills, as he used to. He drifts back to sleep.

“It’s morning, Malik,” a voice whispers into his ear. His nose scrunches, then his brows, and he rolls away from the intrusion, pulling a thin pillow over his head. “Habibi,” the eagle chuckles, taking the pillow away. “You can’t spend two days in a row in this child’s cot.”

“Then stop me.” He grumbles.

“I’ll tell everyone you kissed me.”

Malik glares. He takes the edge of the sheets and pulls them over his head, resolutely curling up on his side.

Altair laughs as he lifts to his feet and wanders out, closing the door quietly.

Growling, Malik throws the sheets from him and rises. The problem is– Altair would.

[megumiluvv]

Challenge

Cont: established relationship, Takuma Ino x fem!reader, dry humping, pet names and praise (pretty, baby, babe, pretty girl, etc.), single use of “good boy” that makes Ino cream his pants (same), competition and dirty talk, Ino is such a silly guy I love him

Word count: ~500

Masterlist

A/N: sorry for taking forever to post, I went to the chiropractor and had lunch with my mom :) I’m deprived of Ino content, and this has been in the drafts for a week because I convinced myself that I didn’t like it. But the part two I have in mind(If people like it) is better thought out. Idk. likes and reblogs are appreciated!! <3

〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎ ❀ 〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎

“Hey babe?” Your sweet voice calls to Ino.

“Yeah?” He replies, in the other room because he was turned on by seeing you sat on the bed so prettily.

“Wanna try something, stop getting your boner down and come here.”

“Oh? What does my pretty girl want?” He smiles and comes out of his hiding place and back into the bedroom.

“So, I was scrolling through my twitter, as I do, and I came across something that sounds fun. I know how you love a competition.”

“It’s not a threesome is it? I know we both love Nanami, but I don’t think he’d be up for that.”

“We’ll revisit that, but this is different.” You laugh.

“What’s the competition?”

“We grind against each other and stay clothed, and whoever cums first has to do what the other says.” Your grin is so mischievous, it’d be hard for him to say no. Luckily for you both, Ino is always up for a challenge.

“Baby, your pretty brain is soooo big and wrinkly, I wanna kiss it.” He grins and practically pounces on you and kisses you.

He instantly starts grinding his sensitive tip against your clit through the both of your clothes, hissing at the contact but loving your reaction. He messily kisses you, swirling your tongues together and bringing his hands to your hair and tangling into the strands.

“Baby, I dunno how long I’ll last,” the brunette mumbles as he kisses you, “but I wanna see if I can win, so I’ll hold it back as best I can.”

“Mhm, me too,” you hum back into his lips, eagerly accepting the feel of his boner against your throbbing clit.

“You like that, pretty girl? Feels good, yeah?” He groans softly into your mouth, hands tightening in your hair.

“Mhm, I love it, ‘kuma.”

“Yeah, you know what I love?”

“Hm?” You hum into his neck as he leans close to your ear.

“This pretty girl under me.” Ino grins, his breath hot against your ear.

It works up the both of you more and you start kissing his neck, making it harder for him to keep his composure.

“God, you’re so gorgeous, my pretty baby,” he whines, making more noise than you as you two do this. “So hard not to cream my pants right now…”

“Aww, is my silly boyfriend struggling to hold his load?” You giggle into a half-moan, his tip brushing just right against your clit through the fabric of your pants.

“Hey, ‘m not silly,” he mumbles and picks up his pace, accepting that he’ll probably end up cumming first.

“You are, but you’re so handsome too. And you’re such a good boy, can’t wait for you to prove it when you cum and you get to listen to me.”

Your words only work him up more, and he ends up cumming in his pants, whining at the sensitivity and his now-ruined sorcerer pants. Some of the sticky substance leaks through the fabric and his ears burn red in embarrassment, all while you giggle.

“Wow, ‘kuma, made a mess from being called a good boy?” You tease.

“Sh-shut up, it wasn’t that…”

“Mhm, sure.” You giggle as he lightly smacks you.

“What’s my punishment, pretty girl?”

“Just you wait and see.”

[virescent-v]

Subconsciously Green-Eyed

Summary: Jealousy? Emily's never heard of it.

A/N: So...I tried to challenge myself to do a 500 word drabble. I didn't make it. LMAO. But lucky for ya'll you get two fics from me within 24 hours! There's no warnings to this one; there's no smut.

Word Count: 983

Emily cast her glance back and forth across the table. It wasn’t unlike her team to joke and lighten the mood during debriefs, but something about this instance was getting under her skin. 

She eyeballed the table, looking intently at each person present trying to figure out what was bothering her. It was the usual group of people; Tara, Penelope, JJ, Luke, and Dave. But there was also a new addition to the table. 

A young, attractive agent from New York. A bright mind in the Cyber Division office, if she were to go by what your section chief said. You were down in DC helping out on the case they were currently working on. Everyone on the team was besotted with you already after only having known you for two days. 

You were a bright light in the otherwise bleak office. You were average in height, but loud in personality. Your optimism rivaled that of Penelope, as did your technological savviness, and your humor meshed well with both Tara and Luke. You were confident and extroverted without being cocky and knowledgeable without being a know-it-all. 

Everyone was captivated by you, trying to work closely with you over the past couple of days. You had knowledge that seeped into various topics that made you an asset at the round table. More importantly, you were creative with directions to take the case that opened up a few different leads that impressed everyone, including Emily. 

As Emily continued surveying the table, you were in the middle of a funny story from your first New York case and everyone around it had their eyes on you. You were leaning lightly into Penelope’s personal space, your hand on her arm, sharing a quick giggle at something techy. You made sure to make eye contact with everyone around the table, keeping everyone’s attention on you. It felt natural, the way you worked the small crowd, and Emily could tell that each member was enamored with you. 

She noticed that Tara and Luke’s eyes were more heavily focused on you than the others, something dark and gleaming. Watching them watch you, their eyes trailing sneakily but lazily over your body, Emily could feel something swelling inside of her. Something unnamed, something she hadn’t felt before. 

As she was internally cataloging whatever feelings were swirling inside her, she didn’t notice the room clear out leaving only herself and you. 

You noticed Emily’s distraction during the past few minutes, especially as the team made their way out and she stayed behind. Her gaze was directed at the table top, but it looked befuddled, distant. 

“Agent Prentiss?” When you didn’t receive any response, you timidly walked around the table and gently put your hand on her arm. You spoke quietly, not wanting to scare her out of her reverie. “Emily?” 

Regardless of your trying to be soft spoken, Emily still startled, jumping a little. “Wha- oh. Sorry, I was in another world.” 

You laughed lightly, breaking the tension a bit. “I could tell. Is everything okay?” 

Emily cleared her throat, still unsure of how to name the emotions rippling inside her. “Oh, ye-yeah. It’s nothing. Just a lot on my mind.” She looked around, finally registering that the team had left. “Are you enjoying DC?” 

You tilted your head a little at her, your eyes softening. “I am. It’s a nice change of pace from New York,” you stepped a little closer to the section chief. “I really like the team. Everyone’s, uh, great.” 

Emily had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Go figure you enjoyed the attention of her agents. She figured you probably noticed the glances that some of them were throwing your way, your personality clinging to the admiration. “I can tell,” she said with just a hint of something venomous. 

Your head tilted a little further as you scrutinized her. You were not as proficient in profiling, but you weren’t blind. You leaned back on the table and crossed your arms over your chest, regarding Emily with a hint of amusement. “Agent Prentiss, are you jealous of my newly budding relationships with your team?” 

“Jeal-? Jealous? No, no. Why, why would I be jealous?” 

Emily felt her face flush, confused by the emotions rushing through her. Was it jealousy? But why would she be jealous of her team showing you attention? 

“It doesn’t take a profiler to spot jealousy.” You walked closer to her, close enough that you could feel her body heat. “You’re stuttering over your words when you’re normally very well spoken. Your hands are clenched at your sides right now.” You trailed your hands over Emily’s hands, loosening them. You trailed your hands up her arms, keeping your eyes on Emily and her reactions. 

As your hands brushed her shoulders, Emily’s breath caught. “I can feel your muscles, you’re pretty tense right now.” Your hands continued north, brushing the underside of her jaw. “You’ve been clenching your teeth and frowning with narrowed eyes since you noticed Luke and Tara checking me out.” You trailed your thumb over her lower lip, which she had pulled between her teeth at your movements. “So, yeah, I’m not a profiler, Agent Prentiss, but all signs point to jealousy,” you said, arching your eyebrow. 

Emily slowly released a breath, gently closing her eyes in a way to relax herself. “Maybe I am jealous,” she whispered. 

You watched as Emily steeled herself, confidence lighting up her eyes. You grinned fondly as you gently shook your head, opening your body language as Emily prepared herself. 

“I think,” she started, her hands landing on your hips. “To avoid all further jealousy, I should beat Tara and Luke to the punch.” She took a deep breath. “Want to get dinner with me tonight?” 

You couldn’t suppress the teasing smile that broke out across your face. “Why, Agent Prentiss, I thought you’d never ask.” 

[lizardkingeliot]

Congrats on your freedom from the mess!

I'm having a craving to read a scene where Louis is defending Lestat to someone. I'm not particular about the context but I hope that we'll get some "that's my husband and only I can talk shit about him" energy from Louis in the show too. But I'd settle for a few hundred words from you! ❤️

Okay. So. When I started writing this I challenged myself to keep it under 500 words and... lmao. Well. It ended up being almost 1500. Because of course. But ANYWAY I hope you're here for some Rockstar Lestat and Photographer Louis because that's what this ended up being. The urge to turn this into a longer fic is STRONG but I'm resisting for now. After I finish my current wip I might come back to it and fill it out and pop it up on AO3. IDK... we'll see lol.

Anyway I'm sticking most of this under a cut. Thank you for this lovely prompt and I hope you enjoy it!

—

Louis emerged from the dressing room first. Leaned against the wall outside the door and started fiddling with his camera. Checking over the pictures he’d taken just moments ago. Lestat—a ring of vanity lights like a halo around the mirror behind him. Lestat—purple leather pants, lime green crop top, the word Slut scrawled in sparkly cursive on the chest. Lestat—golden hair gleaming in the artificial light. Eyes on the camera, on Louis where he stood a safe distance away beyond the lens. Pink mouth slightly parted just so, just so…

Lestat walked out not a minute after Louis and was instantly surrounded by a horde of people. His tour manager, his agent, Daniel Molloy, a handful of nondescript faces attached to bodies Louis didn’t know. Lestat scowled and waved them all away from him at once, muttering his annoyance under his breath in French.

Lestat’s whole body swayed as he walked. Pants sitting low on his hips. Hips like weapons, swell of his ass like a homing beacon. And Louis almost forced himself to look away when Lestat stopped, and turned back. And met Louis’ gaze across the distance. His eyes lined in smudgy black lighting up in exactly the way they’d been when Louis viewed him through the lens of his camera moments ago. Mouth quirking up in a secret smile meant for Louis and Louis alone.

Louis smiled back, couldn’t help it. Stomach doing some truly impressive acrobatics when Lestat turned away and disappeared in the direction of the stage. He was grateful for the wall for reminding his body to stay upright. He forced a breath, was just about to turn his eyes back to his camera when the muffled conversation two roadies were having over by the loading bay invaded his senses.

“Did you see what he’s wearing now?” Roadie Number One asked with a self-satisfied little laugh. The sound of it was instantly grating. It was such a pompously human sound. “For fuck’s sake, man.”

“Like I said before,” Roadie Number Two offered in a casual, gravelly tone. One hand on a flight case, the other fiddling with the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear. “The whole fruit basket, that one. Talk about shoving it in your face.”

Louis tipped his head to one side. Watched them both with big unblinking eyes as they started moving down the hall in the direction of the stage. His pulse beating slow and steady inside him. Moving the blood through his veins at a calculating, almost predatory pace.

—

After the show, backstage was the usual chaos. A sea of people and their sounds. Lestat’s team, his band, his groupies. Equipment being rushed back out the way it had come in. And though Louis had been standing just off stage and watched with his own two eyes as Lestat made his exit following his second encore. Had snapped one final picture in the split second before Lestat passed by and their hands—very intentionally, on Lestat’s part at least—brushed together. Suddenly, Lestat was nowhere to be found.

Louis screwed the lens from his camera, tucked everything away in his case and slung the strap over his shoulder. The moment he lifted his head, he saw them. Roadie One and Roadie Two. And hunger grumbled deep inside him. And it dawned on Louis all at once that he’d been so busy tonight he hadn’t actually fed.

He could have just let it go. He should have. Human beings—what did they matter? But Lestat wasn’t around and the thought that he was off with some groupie getting his dick wet pissed him off just enough for the hunger to spur him forward. He moved without even thinking to, and in a blink he was standing in front of Roadie Number Two. Crowding him against the flight case he’d been hauling. So close their noses nearly touched.

“Hello,” Louis said. Roadie Two’s eyes went wide as two big moons. “I have a question for you—”

“Hey, man, what the f—”

Louis choked off the man’s voice with a thought at once. Vampiric power working like a hand around his throat.

“Don’t be rude when your elders are speaking.” Louis took a single calculated step back. Roadie Two was trembling in his black jeans. Louis didn’t even have to hold him in place. Frozen with terror, the man couldn’t move. And Louis grinned. “Now—my question. And I do think you of all people can help me with this one.”

Louis listened to the tangle of thoughts in his head. A litany of curses. An endless slew of fear and dark and what the fuck what the fuck. People were rushing all around them. Louis thought, distantly—maybe—that Daniel was saying his name.

“Do you happen to know where I might find a fruit basket in this city?”

Louis laughed, a dark and wobbling sound. The hunger had him by the belly. He had to fight against his fangs to keep them from popping out.

There were tears in Roadie Two’s wide moon eyes that didn’t blink. He found the strength to reach up with one hand and paw uselessly at his own throat. Thick rasping sounds falling out of it as he fought against the Dark Gift’s suppression of his breath.

Louis laughed again.

“Yeah,” Louis said, and tipped his head to one side. And watched the artery throb with blood on the side of the roadie’s thick neck. “That’s what I thought. Not so easy to get those smartass words of yours out now, is it? You know, next time maybe you should try sayin’ that shit to—”

“Louis.”

Lestat. Behind him. Heartbeat like a siren. Warm, gushing sound of life like a song inside his veins. Louis’ mind stumbled over itself for a fraction of a second and he lost his hold on Roadie Two’s throat. And the man crumbled down to his knees in a coughing fit in an instant.

“Louis,” Lestat said again. And Louis spun around. And—

Smudged eyeliner. Pink mouth. Golden hair skimming bare shoulders. At some point between the stage and right then, Lestat had lost his shirt.

“Lestat.” Louis straightened his neck, gripped the strap of his camera case just to have something to hold onto. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he knew Lestat could hear it. “Hey, uh, so—”

“Cheri, I know you’re hungry, but I believe it would be ill-advised to eat the roadies.”

Louis drew a breath, huffed it out, distantly aware that Roadie Two was half-crawling, half-running away behind him. “Wasn’t gonna eat him. Just—” He huffed another breath. “And please don’t call me—”

“You were sticking up for me.”

Smudged eyeliner. Blue eyes shining in those messy rings of black. Louis’ heartbeat was a kick pedal drum inside his chest.

“Just didn’t care for his tone, is all.” Louis tried for casual, but the words came out all wrong. Like suddenly he was the one being choked. “He said—”

“I know what he said, cheri.” One corner of Lestat’s mouth twitched, amused and annoyed all at once. “Excusez-moi—Louis.” Head tipped to one side. Eyes sweeping appraisingly over Louis’ face, down to his chest. Blue eyes limned in so much black. “They always say these things. The two of them. Like school boys. They cannot help that they are wildly attracted to me.”

At that—Louis instantly started to laugh. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Smudged eyeliner. Leaning close. Lestat put his hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Well, yes,” he said very quietly. Voice a husky rumble pouring from his throat. “That is what they tell me.”

Warm breath on Louis’ neck. Lestat pulled back, and all the people rushing around them suddenly melted away. And it was just the two of them. And there was a glint in Lestat’s eyes like he’d just won a game neither of them had even realized they were playing. Or that they’d both been playing with their whole chests, and now their chests were caving in. And the game was over.

And Lestat was clutching the prize with both hands.

And Louis was going to let him have it.

“Yeah, so—anyway.” Louis took a slow, deep breath. Slowly, slowly let it come rushing back out. He begged his heart to stop selling him out and to settle. “I’m starving. You wanna hunt?”

Smudged eyeliner. Pink mouth falling open with just the tiniest hint of his fangs poking out. “I would love to hunt with you, cheri,” Lestat said.

[yallthemwitches]

“Rough or gentle?” 

(The prompt came from This post! Feel free to send me another smut prompt challenge~)

FINALLY, I have saved myself and wrote below 500 for one of these prompts.

Some Order Jily blowing off some stream. Bless them.

Read under the cut or on AO3

The bookshelf creaks as they slide against it to the ground, some of the books spewing dust which they hardly notice falling in their hair. 

“I thought I would never touch you again.” James pulls–no, claws at Lily’s blouse, making buttons clatter to the ground around them. 

“When you didn’t come back with Moody and the others…” he teeters off, partly because he is too busy latching onto her now exposed breasts, but also because he doesn’t want to put to words what had crossed his mind during the five hours she had been missing. Saying it would give it more power he was willing to allow. 

“James–” It comes out as a half moan, Lily trying to gain a level head despite her fiancé’s hands roaming every part of her body.

“James–don’t rush, I’m here, I’m fine.” 

He crashes their lips together, her words being just what he needed to finally believe that she is in fact alive, flesh and blood, kneeling in a pile of their clothes beside him. 

“I’m sorry Evans, but I need you. Oh Merlin fuck I don’t think I’ve ever needed you more in my life. I thought you were gone…” 

She doesn’t need the apology. She understands his fear, his urgency, his unbridled want completely. Their mouths continue to slant together, tongues dancing in and out of each other’s mouths, teeth biting and nipping as though the only way to stay safe together now is to completely devour the other. 

In their revelry, Lily falls backwards and James follows her down, eyes scanning her now naked body with raw hunger. 

“I love you, James. We aren’t getting separated again—tomorrow I’ll talk to Moody about team configurations and–”

But her words get caught in her throat by the feel of his cock between her legs, already poised for entry and seeping from anticipation. 

He makes an audible groan at the sensation of her entrance stretching around him. They had shagged just that morning but it had felt like a lifetime. They had certainly lived a lifetime since then. 

“Darling–,” he chokes out, eyes growing hazy from the vision of Lily’s mouth hanging open in a moan, her muscles now tightening around his cock as he pushes deeper inside. 

“--Not that Order work isn’t important but—” he angles her hips upwards, spreading her ass so he can push completely inside her until their bottom halves are flush together. Full of him, she lets out a cry, hands reaching to tug at his hair and will him to move. 

“--but the only logistics on my mind right now is if you want me to be rough or gentle…either way we are not leaving until you come for me more than once.”

[elixirfromthestars]

WELCOME TO MY CAFE! ˖°.₊˚☕⊹♡

I miss interacting with fellow writers and readers, so I decided to host my own little writing challenge ♡ Between juggling grad school prep and an internship, I wanted to do something to keep me connected to this lovely community, so welcome everyone to my cozy little cafe :) 

The writing challenge starts today and closes on September 29th (National Coffee Day). I will be reading + reblogging every fic. The masterlist will be posted at the end. (if you see this anytime later or can’t make the deadline do not fret, if anything below inspires you, you are welcome to write and tag me and I will add your submission to the masterlist♡)

Below are the rules, prompts, and guidelines ♡

who you can write for: all marvel characters are welcome / any fictional sebastian stan or chris evans characters are welcome too (any characters they’ve portrayed based on real life people will not be accepted though!!) (please keep it to x reader fics only!!)

some general guidelines: Below I’ve provided a number of different prompts and songs for inspiration ♡ Anyone can use them and mix and match however you’d like!! If you use any please let me know somewhere in the post! If none of them below inspire you, to stay within theme please include either a cafe or coffee somewhere in the fic :) 18+ fics are welcome, just please add warnings! Any length of fics are welcome, but if it’s over 500 words please add the “keep reading” option. If you write something as part of a bigger series please write your submission as a standalone ♡

˖°.₊˚☕⊹♡ This is a sweet and cozy little cafe, but of course, there is always a possibility of rain. If anything below inspires an angsty fic, then by all means go ahead and write it! Your submission does not have to include fluff! 

what is not accepted: no dark fics, anything involving minors, incest, rape, noncon/dubcon 

how to enter: please tag me and use #elixirscafe when you post ♡ i’ll leave a like to let you know I saw it and reblog it once I read it :) if i haven’t responded to your post send me an inbox or dm please and thank you! 

Happy writing! My inbox is always open for any questions or comments!! ♡  

What table are you sitting at? 

♡ Coffeeshop AU 

♡ Soulmate AU 

♡ Bakery AU 

♡ Regency Era AU 

♡ Western AU

♡ Neighbor AU 

♡ Pen Pal AU

♡ Small Town AU 

♡ Royal AU

♡ College AU

Would you like a sweet treat?

🍩 ༄ؘ “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” 

🍰 ༄ؘ Saying I love you for the first time.

🍪 ༄ؘ “ Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” 

🍫 ༄ؘ  “ You...you learned how to cook my favorite meal?”

🧁 ༄ؘ “ I’m not going to get sick, you baby. Just let me hold you.” 

🥧 ༄ؘ  “ What else do I need when I have my whole world in my arms?”

🍮 ༄ؘ “ I’m only doing it because you’re cute.” 

🥯 ༄ؘ “ Could you hold my hand?” 

🥞 ༄ؘ “ I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” 

🍞 ༄ؘ “ I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.” 

🍯  ༄ؘ “ Why don’t you tell me what I can do to make your day better?” 

🥐 ༄ؘ “ I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.”

Do you like the music in the cafe? Which song should I play next?

˖°.₊˚☕⊹♡ Feel free to use the lyrics below, the entire feel of the song, or any other lyrics in the song! The playlist is below in case you want to go through and listen to the songs while you write ♡

Apple Cider “ And I don’t even like you that much. Wait, I do, fuck. Call me at midnight. Let’s give this a try.” Beabadoobee

Apple Juice “ Don’t let goodbyes come too easy. Love me, just let me know that you need me.” Jessie Reyez

Apple Pie “I found you under an April sky, and you feel like city life, apple pie baked just right. Home is wherever you are tonight.” Lizzy McAlpine

August “ And I can see us twisted in bedsheets. August slipped away like a bottle of wine.’Cause you were never mine.” Taylor Swift

Bubble Gum “ Sorry I didn’t kiss you, but it’s obvious I wanted to.” Clairo

Caramel “ Love like a landslide, I kiss you goodnight. It used to be easy.” 5SOS

Cardigan “And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone's bed. You put me on and said I was your favorite.” Taylor Swift

Chai Tea “ I love sippin’ chai tea, with you across from me. I love hearing your voice, talkin ‘bout nothing.” Audrey

Champagne Problems “ You had a speech, you’re speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches, and I couldn’t give a reason.” Taylor Swift

Chocolate “ I need more time off with you to turn you on. And I want to wake up without the alarm. A thousand eyes on me constantly, but I just want you.” Ziggy Alberts

Cinnamon “ It’s a slow cinnamon summer. Your spell is pulling me under. Rowing in a wooded hollow. Showing me the moves to follow.” Jome

Coffee Breath “ Make me fantasize,'bout you baby. And you smell so sweet, like fresh-picked daisies.” Sofia Mills 

Coffee Cup “ So we’re swapping our cups, and after a while, we’re swapping a glance. And I can think nothing better than starting the year with a drop of romance.” Anthony Lazaro

Espresso “ Now he’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night, oh. Is it that sweet? I guess so. Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know. That’s that me espresso.” Sabrina Carpenter

Grapejuice “ I was on my way to buy some flowers for you. Thought that we could hide away in a corner of the heath. There’s never been someone who’s so perfect for me.” Harry Styles

Honey + Tea “Girls like flowers, clever poetry. That old adage doesn't work on me, but conversation and a cup of tea. Boy, you had me at philosophy.” Mōzi

Milk & Honey “ So come meet me in the garden, where the angels sing. We’re mixing up milk and honey, soft lips divine. Slow cherry and lay me down, oh, she’s coming to set me free.” Jessarae

Pancakes for Dinner “ I’ll try to hide the way I feel, but I’ll just wanna shout. What do I have to lose right now?” Lizzy McAlpine

Thin Mints “ If you let me lova ya like I wanna, write you all the poems like Whitman. You can take my Thin Mints, if you let me love ya like I wanna.” Evan Crommett

Too Sweet “ I think I’ll take my whiskey neat. My coffee black and my bed at three. You’re too sweet for me.” Hozier

playlist for the songs above can be found here: 🧸

to my lovely mutuals, please don’t feel pressured to participate or share, just thought I’d share this with you all ♡  

@peteyprecious616 ♡ @malum-forev ♡ @rosepetalsinwinter ♡ @inkedreverie ♡ @nickfowlerrr ♡ @missraion ♡ @pocolottie​ ♡ @sweetiebarnes ♡

[mayasaurusss]

Chapter one: Old tales.

Warnings: midly detailed description of wounds, not totally proof-read, gramamtical errors.

A/n: I'm really really scared to publish this (I'm shttng myself). The title is not really for my liking, maybe I will change it. English is not my native language so there may be some errors. Words: 4k and 500

"...will replace number eleven, Allie, after her accidental injury due to breaking her leg during practice" you heard coach Ben's words, but didn't fully register them yet.

Mere days have passed since Allie broke her leg, or to be exact, her leg was broken by Taissa.

When Allie broke her leg, you were on the bench, having had to swap with her during practice. You were relaxing, enjoying the sun when Misty walked over to you and started rambling about the most random things she could say, something about a philosopher, Misty was Misty after all. You weren’t really sure on how to even talk to her, so you just stayed silent, nodding sometimes while she talked, but your mind didn’t register anything of what she said. Misty-trance was so strong that, at first, you didn’t hear Allie screaming in agony. Your mind went into panic mode only when Misty bolted from her seat next to you to the green field: from your position on the bench you couldn’t see it but as you got closer to the scene, you saw Allie clenching her leg, her bone sticking out, pure white contrasting with the deep red of her flesh.

"... did you hear me?" you hear your name begin called, you peered at coach Ben.

"...What?"

"I asked if you'd like to replace Allie as the winger for the Nationals," coach repeated himself.

"Sure..." your voice was small, truth to be told, you weren't sure of this decision.

You weren't that brilliant as a player, certainly not that better than Allie, but at least you could fulfill your duty pretty well, you just weren't that certain you could perform well in such a big game. And, you weren’t exactly the most loved player of the team.

When you looked up, you could see all your teammates look at you weirdly, judging you and your absent demeanor.

"Despite what happened to Allie, we're gonna go to the Nationals, we're going to go and we're going to win, all right?" Ben said to the team, not receiving a response.

"All right?"

"Yes coach" the team responded in unison.

You gathered your things, heading out of the changing room when Shauna approached.

"Hey, are you all right? You seemed a bit shaken up before" Shuna Shipman was one of the few people in the team that talked to you, you used to be more of a loner but she and Jackie too, sometimes involved you in their conversation, you didn’t know if they did it out of pity or real interest.

"I am ok, I think. I'm just scared that I'm not gonna live up to the team's expectations, that's all".

Shauna smiled at you, "You're going to be great, don't worry, you'll just have to think you're playing during one of our practices".

"Thanks Shauna" she could always be kind, though her eyes were so deep and dark you felt lost looking at them, making you feel little and scared.

"The team will go to a party today to celebrate our success, are you going to come?" she asked.

"I don't know, I think I'm going to go back home tonight so I can spend the last night with my parents" you answered Shauna, you knew from deep down that as soon as you said that, you doomed yourself to 'unsocial girl' of the group.

“I see…” Shauna’s gaze felt heavy on you.

“Well, I’m gonna go” you slumped your bag over your shoulder and bid goodbye to Shauna, getting out of the changing room.

Rain pours heavily, pooling at your feet and wetting every inch of you, your shoes sink in cold puddles and your skin feels uncomfortably damp. 

You had been walking for half an hour, being that your home was in the outskirts of Wiskayok and the bus hadn’t yet come, your best chance was walking to another bus stop and waiting there; walking under the rain had proved to be more challenging than you thought, especially when the wet asphalt made you slip. 

At last you arrived at the bus stop and shielded yourself from the heavy rain. You sat on the bench, waiting for the bus which  had to come in a few minutes now, so preoccupied with trying not to slip and break a bone you had almost lost track of time and missed the bus.

You hold your face in yout hands, retaking in the events of the day and wishing Allie wouldn’t have broken her leg: you couldn’t perform well under pressure at all, you remeber once when you had to perform a penalty shoot during pratice and failed miserably, while all of the team watched you. The thought of people watching, watching you inevitably fail made you recoil in fear. 

A sudden noise interrupted your thoughts, something moved just inches away from you, hiding in the corner of the bus stop. You couldn’t make it out in the darkness, but your ears picked up on the fact that whatever it was small or certainly small enough for you to defend yourself. You jolted up, arms at your side tightening and muscles moving under the skin, ready to flight at any second. 

A ruff of red puffed out from the shadows, followed by a movement, whatever it was was now turning on you, having heard your noises. Two pairs of golden eyes peered at you from under the dark, studying your form and stance; maybe it was scared of you too. Slowly, ever so slowly, from the dark corner a fox appeared: it was bigger than you imagined, it was as tall as half of your leg, red and orange and white shades coloured its fur. It looked soft, the kind of fur that shielded from the cold winds of winter, a thin layer of what seemed to look like snow heaved on the tip of its coat and nose, tinting it white. Golden eyes reflected the dim street lights, giving it an eerie human look. It didn’t seem malicious, but there certainly was something unnerving in its presence.

“There shouldn't be any snow on you, it’s raining…” your voice was small, almost muffled, like sound and time stopped right here, under the roof of the bus stop. 

It continued to watch you, you, you, you in the eyes, your face, how you were. For a small second, you felt tightly connected with it.

Something talked, you didn’t know if it was your brain, your subconscious or the fox magically knew how to telepathically communicate with you but you heard thousand of tree whispers and thousand of voices reunited and combined to talk to you, to say “Come”.

Your skin freezed, blood running cold in your veins and feeling like it dripped from your fingers onto the floor. Goosebumps fell down your spine and in your mouth flooded the taste of blood, you had bit your tongue in fear.  

The fox watched you, puffing its chest and with hurry, ran behind the bus stop into the dark woods. You didn't know what compelled you to do it, but you followed it, cornering around the stop expecting to see it waiting for you at the line of the trees, but you found nothing staring at you beside the darkness. 

Lights shined through the rain, finally the bus had come. With newfound energy, you sprinted in it and almost tumbled over, making the driver eye you in confusion. You searched for a seat, finding it in the middle of the bus. You were still shaken up, not by the fact that you encountered a possibly dangerous wild animal, but at the fact that something talked clearly at you. Arms wrapping themselves you didn't fail to notice a small pair of golden eyes watching you from the darkness and as the bus moved, you lost sight of them.

“Come”.

“Mhm…no”

Shauna moves back to the clothes, changing once again her dress.

"You know, there’s Randy tonight at the party”. 

Huh? Why did she brought up Randy? I don't care about him.

“...ok” Shauna once again changed, once again she received the same response from her best friend.

“He asked Jeff to ask me if you’re gonna be there”

“Randy? Really?”

“What? I just thought you wanted to know if someone asked about you”

Wow, ok.

“Shauna, just put on the red dress I gave you”

Am I your dress-up doll Jackie?

“Maybe I don’t want to wear the red dress, and I’m sure as hell I don’t want to hook up with Randy -fucking- Walsh!”

Why can’t you see me? I don’t want to be with Randy, I want…

Jackie was taken back from Shauna's sudden outburst “Jeez, what crawled up your ass? Just put on whatever you want…”

“Thanks, I will”

The room filled with uncomfortable silence. Jackie felt like she just managed to ruin the night for both her and Shauna.

“...You’re probably right about Randy, you know? I once saw him having trouble with an escalator” 

Shauna cracked a smile, even in the most dire situations Jackie never failed to make her laugh “I once heard him ask who invented the Pope”.

Around 9 a.m, most of the soccer team arrived. There was a faint smell of earth in the air, covered by the smell of booze and fire. 

Shauna had followed after Jackie, just like the shadow Jackie wanted her to be -or did she want to be Jackie’s shadow?- she stood out among the other girl friends, she knew she didn’t belong here. 

Shauna stopped Jackie from dancing with her, her stomach clenching “Wait, l need a second” without waiting for a response, she walked away and Jackie did not bother following her. 

Shauna leaned against a pickup, watching Jackie in the distance.

To her, in that instant, while she was enjoying her night with her friends she looked ethereal. Shauna could not understand if she wanted to be with Jackie, if she wanted to be Jackie or if she wanted to consume her. Shauna can’t understand if what she’s feeling is longing, loneliness or anger, anger towards Jackie, for not spending time with her, for not begin with her. Shauna chugged down the alcohol burning her throat. Her emotions were too much, she had to go away, to get away from Jackie,  it didn’t help that behind her Randy fucking Walsh was drunk off his ass and bothering her. 

She had to release her pent up energy, -she had to get Jackie’s attention- , so she walked to where Taissa was, willing to start a fight.

“I admire your resilience Tai” Shauna’s voice was bitter, deliberately trying to get Tai angry and argue with her.  “It can’t be easy, knowing you fucking crippled someone today”

“Cool, good talk”. A vein in Shauna’s head pulsed “Just admit you did it on purpose” she yelled, “Excuse me?”

Away from her, Laura Lee recognized her teammates voices, she saw Taissa and Shauna talk to each other.

“Woah, calm down”

“No, listen you guys, we don't have to worry about the ‘Allie problem’ anymore because Taissa fixed it for us!”

Laura Lee walked over to the scene, leaning near Natalie “What is she talking about?” she asked. 

“She’s talking about Taissa having a plan”

Taissa visibly rolled her eyes at their exchange “Oh please, since when do you give a shit anyway? Don’t you have a bong to hit or a dick to suck?”

“Don’t talk to her that way”

“Fuck off Shauna! I don’t need you to defend me! Last time I checked you were fine with ‘freezing her out’”

“Ok, seriously, what are you guys talking about?”

“Shut the fuck up, Laura Lee!”

The atmosphere got heated, both Taissa and Shuna were too stubborn to let the other one ‘win the fight’ .

“Somebody needs to take her wasted ass home”

“Say that again you bitch!”. A fight broke between the group, everyone screaming their asses off.

“Enough!” Jackie screamed, the others hushed.  Everyone was watching the group, all the eyes of the party on them.

“Yellowjackets, with me!” Jackie said, leading the group to a secluded space.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was, but I do know it’s over”  Shauna shifted uncomfortably under Jackie’s gaze.

“We are about to go to Nationals, and based on what I’m looking at right now, we might not even bother getting on that plane” the underlying message wasn’t missed by the team: they weren’t close enough, they weren’t ready enough.

“Alright, everybody line up. I’m fucking serious, line up, come on!” The girls lined up one near the other, waiting for Jackie’ orders “I wan’t each of you to go down this line and say one nice, true thing about every other girl on this team”

“What is this, fucking girl scout?” Taissa's annoyed voice whispered to Van. “Who wants to go first?” Jackie asked. Laura Lee smiled “I’ll go Jackie”

She walked over to Taissa, looked her in the eyes and took her hands in hers, “Taissa, you’re beautiful in the eyes of our Lord” making Taissa smile -maybe more like trying to hold her laugh-. Laura Lee moved to Van, repeating herself when she was interrupted, everyone laughing. Everyone in the group moved, going to ‘say something nice and true’ to their teammates.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier” Shauna said to Tai, dark eyes burning a hole in Tai’s skin. Taissa looked at Shauna, voice unsure and laced with regret “I didn’t -you know- mean to…hurt her” 

“...ok” 

Laura Lee walked to Lottie, her hands rubbing nervously: sometimes Lottie made her tense. She didn’t know if it was out of fear or respect for the girl, or if it was some sort of other emotion plaguing her heart.  With a bit of uncertainty, Laura Lee looked up at her teammate, “Lottie, you’re really tall, you are one of the best players in the team, and I  admire your strength. And, you're beautiful in our Lord's eyes”. Lottie just smiled, that smile that reassured Laura Lee that everything would be fine “Laura Lee, you have a beautiful soul and you are a great friend. I admire your devotion” Lottie said.

“Thanks, really. Wouldn’t you want to spend some words for Y/n?”

Suddenly, Lottie’s voice got sour, her brown knitted together  “Why would I want that? It’s not like she’s here, no?”

Laura Lee knew that by how Lottie reacted, she had unknowingly pushed something inside her: Lottie had tried and failed to be friends with the other girl, but the -Operation: become friends- had failed on both ends because of Lottie stubbornness (and secret shyness) and the other girl not knowing how to relate herself with others.

“I know it’s just that she’s not really part of our group and I feel bad for her...”

“If she wanted to be part of our group, she would’ve come” Lottie wanted to go away, the air seemed thick now and a faint headache was starting to form. She started to walk away when Laura Lee stopped her, grabbing her arm.

“I understand why you would think so, but I think she's just shy or lonley. Maybe she requires a bit more of work to get her to open up her shell”.  She took Lottie’s hands in hers, rubbing at the skin to soothe the other girl's tension.

“You should aske her to sit next to you on the flight” .

“...alright”.

You stumbled into your home, leaving a wet trail behind you. The house was dark, dark and cold, shadows looming over the corners of the room.

I hope no foxes magically get out of them and make me shit myself, you thought with a bitter smile, still not feeling completly safe.

You called out for your parents but no one answered. Taking your phone out you saw a missed called and a message from your father

“Hey kid, just a heads up, me and your mother are going on a date, we will be home late tonight, in the fridge there’s a leftover pizza. Be safe”.

You sighed, you couldn’t blame this on them really, you knew they had a date and they still didn’t know that you’d be gone to the Nationals soon, besides you still had a few days to spend with them. 

After dinner, you went upstairs to your bedroom. It’s dimly lit, shadows creep in the high corners, making your skin crawl. On the nightstand, an old copy of ‘Grimm’s Tales’ sat, the one that your grandfather gave to you some weeks before passing, when you were just eight. It was meant for children apparently, but it was more like pages of pages of inducing nightmares stories: young women envied by queens, of children in woods being chased by wolves or finding an evil witch house. You were still reading when you fell asleep.

That night you dreamt. You dreamt of thousands of trees, branches tangling with each other so much that you couldn’t see the dark night sky. The woods were silent, fog embraced them and not giving you enough space to see. In the distance a howl echoed out, something that sounded angry, angry and hungry. Your skin crawled, cold shivers running down your spine and without thinking, you ran. 

You ran not knowing where to go, without guidance while the howl got closer and closer, branches scratching at your skin staining it of red. The howl multiplied, as if whatever was chasing you had called its companions. Skin bloodied, lungs burning in pain, eyes watering, sky crashing on you. 

Finally your energies gave out, mouth tasting the dirt beneath you. Something grasped at your body, hands prying you up, someone was holding you to their front, brushing your hair out of their way to your neck. You felt someone biting at your jugular, blood oozing from the open wound. Hands, so many hands touched your skin, clawed at it, brushed your blood away from bruises into the dark surrounding you. Teeth, thousands of teeth clenching your skin, grounding on it, ripping it open, eating like the prey you were, like a fox caught between the jaws of a bear.

You woke up from your nightmare, sweaty and with a heart beating irregularly. 2:02 am. You looked at your book still open in your hands, fingers keeping it open on the middle of 'Red Riding Hood'. Your body fell back on the bed, sleep overcoming once again.  “I really shouldn’t keep on reading these books…” 

On the other side of town, Lottie dreamt too. But hers was a good dream unlike the ones she had the previous weeks. Lottie wouldn't wish anyone to know but she too was scared of playing in the Nationals; the tension is what to her the the woods looked more alive than ever now, she did so much to keep them alive, offered so much of herself to the woods that now they thanked her in return. The voice spoke to her, whispering through the trees, animals and wind and leaves all swirled togheter to create It. 

She wouldn’t give this gift to any one, the times she tried talking about it, talking with her parents, her father got mad and screamed at her mother - “Lottie doesn’t see the future, she’s not normal. We’re taking her to a child psychiatrist”-.

She never understood if he did it out of love or disinterest to have her around. It favored her, this secret is just for her. Before coming to have an audience with it, she had positioned small wooden dolls in a circle, one for each of them.  But they were sad. She couldn’t understand why,

Why are you crying? Yes, it began snowing and it's cold but can’t you hear It? 

Why? Can’t you hear Its voice? 

Can’t you hear the woods?

Finally it was the morning of your flight. You got up at five am, too nervous to go back to sleep and started to recap if you got everything for the trip. At seven am you had eaten breakfast with your parents and bid goodbye to your mom, kissing her on the cheek “Be safe”. 

Your father drew you to the airport, “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you near the plane? Your bags are heavy”; bless your mother, even if you did pack enough, she just had to help you pack, inevitably heaving you down “Take this sweater if it’s cold, you never know, and these pants, and this shirt, and these…” you had to physically stop her to pack more.

“I think I’m capable of carrying them on my own, I don’t want the other girls to see me as a ‘daddy’s-girl’”.

You got out of the car, grabbed all your bags and walked to the driver seat “Alright then, have you packed enough?” you looked at your father with a look that said ‘seriously?’.

“Fair enough…”

Your dad ruffled your hair, “Call when you get there, ok? Become a champion”. You gave him a corny smile, “Sure dad”.

“Have a safe flight!”, he drove away, you watched as the small car disappeared from your sight then walked to where your teammates were.  When you got there, all the team saw was a make-shift Santa Claus coming to them.

“Heyyy, forgot to pack something? Mommy helped you?” Tai said to you sarcastically. 

“Tai, enough” Van answered, making her friend scoff. The bags hit the floor, you let out a heavy sigh at the action finally free from the weight. “Don't mind her, she's just a bitter asshole”, Taissa scoffed at her friend “Oh fuck off”.

Lottie and Laura Lee were close, watching the exchange between you and Van “Lottie! Come on, go!” she wisphered to her taller friend. Lottie shifted uncomfortably on her legs, hands rubbing together behind her back, she walked to where you were, followed by Laura Lee “Hey…” her called, small and unsure “Hi”.

Lottie wasn’t one to be awkward, most of the time, but confronting you one on one made her feel less confident in herself and

“So, uhm… how are you today?” she cringed at herself. 

"You should ask her to sit next to you on the trip" Laura Lee voice chimed in her head

“Huh…good, I think? How are you?”

“I see, uh, yeah yeah, I’m good too”

Silence fell over you, both not making an effort in trying to make small talk. 

The staff announced that they were ready to leave.

Van chimed near you, draggin you with her “Hey, you want to sit next to me? We should be friends” she playfully said to you.  Laura Lee sighed, “Oh... We'll get to know her once we land” she patted her teammate on the shoulder.

The inside of the plane was modern, everyone was mouth agape.

Van laughed “I’ can’t believe your dad paid for a private plane”

“It’s pretty much his only form of parenting. I guess I’ll take it”

“Well, thank you, Mr Matthews!”

Every girl in the team sat, Van tugged you with her near her seat, you fell between her and the window. 

“So, what do you like?” Van asked, a smile forming on her lips

“W-What?”

“What do you like? As in movies, games, magazines? Is there something you even like?” 

Oh, did she want to sit with me to make fun of me? 

“Uhm… The last movie I got to see in theaters was 'Intervew with the Vampire'...but that was sometime ago ”.

“No way! Really?! Did you go alone?”.

“Yes…”

Her mouth was agape with shock, “Wow, I wouldn’t have your courage, you know? I like those movies -well, I like slashers more- but if I’d see one alone, I have nightmares for weeks” . You smiled and laughed with her, she was trying to make you feel less lonley “The last movies I have seen were ‘Halloween' and ‘Braveheart’”.

“What’s that last one about?”

“A drag queen fights the English army”.

“What?!” you laughed wholeheartedly with Van, she was holding your arm in a subtle effort to include you more and more into this conversation.  “You know, there’s this movie that's supposed to come out in december, it’s called ‘Scream’ and it’s supposedly a slasher, I can’t wait to see it. I’m gonna need someone to keep me company though, I'm not really that brave”.

You looked at her “Whit who?” asked, “Maybe you, maybe Taissa”.

“Ohhhh, I see”

She playfully shoved you, “What do you ‘see’, moron?”.

After a while of talking, your eyelids started to get heavier, begging you to take just a tiny nap.  “I think I’m going to sleep for a bit, I’ve woken up so early today…”

“Sure, I’ll wake you up when we got there”. You closed your eyes, sleep overcame you faster than you expected.

You were hungry, you finally managed to catch dinner after a while of running and biting and howling in the woods, she fell so dumbly into the trap, you wouldn’t ever die like this if you were in her position.  Blood runs down to earth, tinting the snow red.  She was so stupid to get caught.  The queen had made you wait, telling you that a meal is far more filling when you are patient. But you had been patient for oh so long, always grumbling and biting at your own flesh to keep your hunger at bay. 

When the queen nodded, all moved to the dinner plate like hawks, bit and ripped and grounded the meat under their teeth, surrounded by the flickering lights of the torches. If one doesn't think too much of it, this was just like the holidays you used to have once, food and lights. After all, a family's most intimate moment is at the dinner table. None was left of her.  It was still watching you. 

Scream erupted from the deep woods, you looked at the trees, your hair disheveld, face dirty , a trail of blood running down on the right side and dripping from the chin. 

You woke up from your haze, screaming filled the plane. “Van?! Van, what’s happening?!” Van is desperately trying to get out something from the ceiling above you , punching and screaming while everyone around you was either hugging each other, passed out or panicking. You felt your fingers weakening, trying to help Van and failing to get out the oxygen masks, dizziness overcame your senses, breathing erratic, goosebumps on your skin, eyelids heavy.

Lottie took your hand, ushering you gently to follow her, “Come on”.

You felt something hot travel up on your arm.

“It’s time to go”.

What’s happening?

Green trees are getting closer, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you lose yourself.

“We have to hunt”.

Am I going to die?

“We have to eat”

I don’t want to die!

“Is the meat cooked well enough, dear?” 

Mom?

The plane is crashing.

“Did you liked dinner?”

L-Lottie?

You can't breathe.

Help me!

A voice called out to you in thousands of whispers. 

“Come”. 

[stardustrebels]

Seasons of Life Writing Challenge Day 17- Lake

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader Rating: PG-13/ T WC: 500

Challenge Masterlist

A/N: Day 17 of the Jan 2025 writing challenge by @fanfictionoverload! This can be read as a flash back of Acacius and Reader from Day 7’s prompt (Marshmallow) and possibly day 10’s prompt too (Footpath), but can also be read on its own. As before, reader and Acacius are good friends, just slightly younger here.

The waters of Albanus stretched before you, a mirror of silver and blue, framed by overgrown laurel bushes and acanthus stalks. The morning sun danced over the gentle swells hitting the shoreline, and a gentle breeze carried the earthy scent of the nearby cypress trees. 

You were crouched on a rocky outcrop at the edge of the lake, gathering fennel in to a pouch, muttering to yourself, when a voice broke the peaceful silence and made you jump. 

“You’re going to fall in if you’re not careful.” 

You glanced over your shoulder to see Marcus leaning against a tree, arms crossed, dark eyes fixed on you. The sight of him- imposing even in this idyllic setting -  irritated you. His gaze followed your every move when you were at camp, not unkindly, but with an intensity that made your skin prickle. You stood to face him, lips pressed tightly in an unamused line. 

“And if I threw myself in- what then?” 

His eyes gleamed and his smirk grew as he walked toward you. “Then I would have to choose whether or not to let you drown for your disobedience,” he said, “given that you are here, despite my request that you stay at camp.” 

You scoffed, glaring down at a sprig of fennel as you turned it between your fingers. “I am not one of your soldiers, General. Do not expect me to follow orders like one.” 

“You think it unreasonable of me to want you safe?” Marcus asked, closing the distance between you until he was just a breath away. His tone surprised you, and when you didn’t answer, he sighed and reached out, gently plucking the stem from your hand.

“You may not be one of my soldiers,” he said, his voice quieter, “but you are still under my care. I would hate to see any harm come to you.” 

You looked up at him then, a small smile playing at your lips. “Then you wouldn’t let me drown for my disobedience?” 

He laughed- hearty, genuine and loud enough that it startled the birds out of the trees behind him. It surprised you how much you loved the sound of it. 

“No, my dear healer. I would not let you drown. Come,” he said, fingers entwining in yours, gently pulling you away from the edge of the rocks. “We should return, or else my men may begin to think both of us have drowned.” 

You let him guide you, his hand warm and steady around yours. 

“I’m surprised you came looking for me yourself,” you said, glancing up at him, “I’d half expected you to send someone else to find me.” 

Marcus shot you that arrogant smirk again, fingers tightening around yours. 

“I doubt you’d listen to anyone else, mea columba. Besides,” he added, his voice dropping lower, “I’d rather be the one to find you. Always.”

You smiled despite yourself, Marcus’ words weaving their usual charm, effortlessly dissolving your lingering annoyance in a way that only he could.

[shurisneakers]

a writing challenge? in 2024? you bet

Hi! Hello! Hey!

I've been going through A Time and have chosen to cope by going back to the specific vibes of 2016 to 2018. That happens to include an incredible resurgence in my love for MCU fanfic, the community around it and all the love that goes into them. I've felt a bit distant from here for a while, but I still see so many of my old friends writing, ones who want to get back into it, and a whole lot of new writers I am dying to meet.

I've floated this idea vaguely on my blog and people seem to be interested so I figured it was worth a shot!

So yeah, welcome to Ari's Old School, Nostalgia Jam, Why-The-Hell-Not MCU Fic Writing Challenge 2024!

Prompts, rules and whatnot under the cut:

Requests:

If you could reblog this post to reach someone who might want to participate, I'd really appreciate it! No need to be following me, it's open for anyone.

Reader-inserts, OCs, solo character fics, character x character-- absolutely no limitations

Any and all MCU characters are allowed

Anything above 500 words should have a read-more/keep-reading tab. Series, multi-chapters, one-shots, drabbles, etc etc. The sky's the limit.

Please tag me in your fics (@shurisneakers) so I'm notified of them, and post them with the tag #arisoldschoolwritingchallenge . It may take me a while to get back to you due to the circumstances I find myself in currently, but I absolutely will. Please send me a DM if I haven't responded within 10 days.

Send me an ask with the prompt you would like. Feel free to pick up to 2 prompts

The only thing I request of you: no RPF and no dark fics. Smut is welcome, but non-con/dub-con/incest or anything along those veins is something I'd ask you not to submit for this challenge. Thank you for your understanding!

I know I've called it an MCU fic challenge as it's the community I've grown with, but if you feel like any of these prompts resonates with a character from another fandom, please go ahead and write it. This challenge really is just about the fun of writing fanfic and love for Your Little Guys

No submission cut-off date. Take all the time you need.

Prompts

I've tried to have a mix of classics and uncommon tropes/dynamics, so I hope everyone finds something they connect with!

Relationship Prompts

1. Enemies (taken by @theysaywhatasadsight)

2. Best friends/childhood friends

3. Coworkers (taken by @jaaneymann)

4. Internet friends

5. Neighbours/roommates (taken by @angrythingstarlight)

6. Fake dating (taken by @hungryforpowernotfood)

7. Commuters

Alternate Universe Prompts

1. Florist AU (taken by @hungryforpowernotfood)

2. Showmance AU (taken by @bombsonboard)

3. Social media/streaming/gaming AU (taken by @splintered-emotions)

4. Thieves/Heist Group AU

5. Time travel AU

6. Pirates AU

7. College AU (taken by @lovelybarnes)

8. Apocalypses/dystopia AU (taken by @targaryenvampireslayer)

9. Chef AU

10. Roadtrips AU

Some rarer miscellaneous ones for those who are so inclined!

1. Shipwrecked together on an island

2. Meet Ugly (opposite of Meet Cutes) (taken by @barnesandco

3. Both of you are ghosts but don't know the other is

4. Treasure hunters AU

5. Faking death

6. Professional cuddlers AU

7. Time loops/Groundhog Day (taken by @sxrensxngwrites)

8. Orpheus and Eurydice

9. Villain x hero

10. Hitchhiking

11. Carnival of Horrors

12. Robin Hood

13. Matchmakers AU

14. Insomniac x narcoleptic

15. Intergalactic Coffee Shop AU

16. Doomed By The Narrative

17. Enemies to Lovers to Enemies

18. Subversion of Classic Hallmark Movie Tropes

Dialogue prompts

You can tweak them as per requirements, but be sure to keep the underlying message!

Angst

1. "I should have trusted myself. I should have stayed far away from you." (taken by @waywardcrow)

2. "Has it occurred to you that how I feel matters too?" (taken by @jaaneymann)

3. "We failed. I would do it again."

4. "You do not deserve my forgiveness."

5. "You make me feel so alone." (taken by @reidishh)

6. "I'm not giving up on us." "I did. You should too." (taken by @targaryenvampireslayer)

Crack

1. "Ohhh, you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid." (taken by @pinkthick)

2. "I think you and I make the worst choices together." "Yeah, but it's always entertaining."

3. "I trusted you." "Terrible decision, really."

4. "I know I'm smiling but I want to push you off a very big cliff." (taken by @pepperonijem)

5. "I'm hilarious." "You're traumatised."

Fluff

1. "This is the only thing I look forward to everyday." (Taken by @bombsonboard)

2. "I think we should do that again. For the sake of the world and my sanity."

3. "You're all I think about." (taken by @waywardcrow)

4. "Don't go anywhere I can't follow." (taken by @iguess-theyre-mymess)

5. "Don't smile at me like that." "Like what?" "Like that." (Taken by @lovelybarnes)

Word Prompts:

Flesh

Strawberry

Bruised (taken by @juvenilearson)

Groovy

Jump

Sunflower (taken by @barnesandco)

Alchemist

Wayward

Offerings

Mischief (taken by @supraveng)

I hope you'll join in! Please do tag anyone you think would be interested, I'd love for this to have as wide an audience as possible.

Lots of love <3

-Ari

[uke-light-yagami-central]

Hi everyone welcome to my second blog!

I created this blog so I could improve upon my smut writing skills. So obviously there will be NSFW content so you have been warned lol.

I will be answering your asks but to challenge myself I've decided there's going to be a word limit of 500 words (or less) in my responses (this will make it a bit easier to answer and more managable but I'll let you know if I decide to write longer.)

So please feel free to send bottom Light prompts through my asks. 

Anyone is also welcomed to leave any bottom Light headcannons or if you simply want to gush over bottom Light that's totally cool too (in fact I encourage it lol)

Doesn't have to be L x Light, it can be Matsuda x Light or Mikami x Light

The only rules are no top Light and/or switching I will not answer any asks about those so don't even try. (I'm very particular about my preferences sorry not sorry.)

And also nothing too gory or majorly disturbing, I'm ok with a little blood here and there but nothing too extreme lol. Oh and no piss or scat kinks, those make me extremely uncomfortable so those are not allowed.

I apologize in advance if I take a while to respond I will try my best to answer your asks in a timely manner. But sometimes I'll get busy and might be inactive for a while so just a heads up.

If you have any inquiries don't hesitate to ask them under the comment section of this post.

Anyways enjoy your stay and have an ukeful day 😘💖

- n

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hi M! Same anon who requested Vampire!Namo here :) Could I substitute prompt 9 with prompt 10 please? Also realized I forgot to specify, but more treat please and less dark! Thank you so much!

Note: I was very torn between choosing prompt 3 (in a trick way) or 10 (in a treat way) - if you ever feel inclined to write prompt 3 for this AU in the future, I would love to read it since I think both fit Namo well.

I hope you like this!

"Loathing"

Pairing: Vampire! Námo x Reader (second person POV)

Location: Modern-day London, England 

Prompt 10: "You're not a monster."

Themes: Soft | Happy ending

Warnings: Vampirism | Mentions of blood drinking

Word count: 500+words

Summary: Námo struggles to make peace with the fact that he is a vampire. 

A/n: this is for the @fellowshipofthefics October challenge.

Divider from @firefly-graphics

Námo retreated to the safety of his study, his own private sanctum, and sighed, utterly wretched. 

The time had come to satisfy the thirst that had plagued him from the day he was made into something he never chose to be. He closed his eyes and made himself comfortable on the large sofa. He knew that when he opened them again, they would inevitably rest on the delicate crystal pitcher in the center of the coffee table before him. 

At least it is synthetic, and not true human blood. The knowledge gave him little comfort, but he had to drink, and drink it he must. It was better than the alternative, at least in his eyes. He sighed a second time and leaned forward. The scent that soon filled him with every breath after he removed the stopper would have sickened him before he was turned, but now it was intoxicating, as inviting as a meal fit for the gods, and finer than the rarest wine to be had. 

"Enter," he said upon hearing the knock on the door. "Is everything well, sweetheart?"

By now, his being able to smell you no longer unnerves you. "Is it time?"

"Aye." Námo filled a glass to the brim and raised it to his lips. "As always."

He drained the glass, and poured himself another glassful, and another, and another. The liquid that poured down his throat was indeed fine, and made every fiber of his being come alive. Námo loathed it and loathed himself for having to need it. 

"There is more where that came from," you told him before taking your customary place by his side. Námo nodded, then emptied the bottle of all its contents. "Not enough, my love?"

"More than enough," he replied, disgusted with himself. He set the glass beside the pitcher and slumped back in defeat. 

"I despise this," Námo confessed. "I hate being reduced to this state, and having to drink the blood of another just to keep myself alive. It makes me feel like I'm no better than the creatures so many live in fear of."

Even after all this time, he still thought him to be no better than the vampires who refused to change their ways. It was anguishing to hear him speak himself with such loathing. You reached out and took his hand, then gave it a gentle squeeze. Námo took this moment to move and rest on the sofa, with his head nestled on your lap. Weary, molten silver eyes regarded you with something akin to reverence when you proceeded to brush your hand over slippery locks of white-gold hair. 

"You're not a monster," you declared with certainty. "And I never want to hear you compare yourself to those wretched things." 

"I could hurt you," he protested. "One of these days, I will forget myself, and you will not be safe."

"But you will not." Námo opened his mouth to argue. You stop him from doing so and say, "I trust you, my love. I know you will never hurt me."

Námo reached out, his hand touching your hair, your cheek. A lace-like tattoo marking you as his companion and, therefore, under his protection, was visible just above your collar. It filled him with pride, to know that he had you in his life. "And I will do everything within my power to never hurt you." He smiled—a rare, warm smile that only you saw. "Stay with me like this, sweetheart. Your presence is soothing."

 Tags: @asianbutnotjapanese @cilil @edensrose

[foxy-eva]

Foxy's Milestone Writing Challenge

First I wanted to thank all of you for your kind comments and your support. Writing stories for the Criminal Minds fandom has given me so much joy over the last few months and I am grateful to be a part of this community. 

So now that over 500 of you lovely people are following my blog, I decided to host a little Criminal Minds Writing Challenge to celebrate this milestone. I’m inviting anyone who wants to participate to write a oneshot/blurb inspired by one (or more) of the following dialogue prompts. Special thanks to my friend @imagining-in-the-margins for providing some of the prompts and helping me with this challenge!

Rules:

Write a Criminal Minds oneshot/blurb inspired by one or more of the following dialogue prompts. Your story can be a reader insert or a character x character ship

Tag me in your story or message me the link until Sunday, July 3rd

Your story can be any genre and trope but smut fics are only to be submitted by adults (18+) 

Please include a summary, word count, relevant content warnings, the pairing and the prompt(s) you chose

I will read your story, make a masterlist of all the works and leave a comment on each of them to give back a little bit of the support I have been receiving. 

Fluff Prompts:

"Are you trying to impress me?" - "Is it working?"

"Maybe you should listen to your heart?" - "How am I supposed to do that when it already belongs to you?"

"I would give up everything if it meant you would let me hold you even for just a second."

More prompts under the cut!

Smut Prompts:

"You know I hate the beach" - "But you don't hate seeing me in a bathing suit, do you?"

"If you keep making those sounds I'm not going to be able to stop myself."

"What are you doing tonight?" - "You, hopefully."

Hurt/Comfort Prompts:

"I feel like all my broken pieces stick back together again when you put your arms around me."

"Aren't you getting tired of taking care of me?" - "Never."

"We can make it through this. I'm not leaving your side."

Angst Prompts:

"Who are we even kidding? We were always a losing game."

"I trust you." - "You shouldn't."

"I can't stay in this darkness with you forever!"

Tagging some lovely mutuals and friends: @writer-in-theory @writingquillsandpainpills @sassymoon @sinfulspencer @imagining-in-the-margins @mercy-burning @samuel-de-champagne-problems @tobias-hankel @lovely-lynn-writes @gaelic-symphony @gettingrailedbyreid @goldentournesol @lcvingprentjss @reidselle @delicatespencer @reidsbookclub @sleepyspencer @spookydrreid   @dreatine @reidsmilf @fortheloveofwonderland @moonlightspencie @andiebeaword @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff @pretty-boys-book-club @aperrywilliams @safespacespence @ssa-sarahsunshine @leahseclipse @hotchandspencearedilfs

[levi-lover]

Después de la Playa (Geto Drabble)

T/W: Smut, fem reader, unprotected sex(oops), praise, mentions of alcohol

A/N: omg i can’t believe a week passed and i actually completed my challenge, i’ve had such a hard time sticking to things so i’m proud of myself for doing this(but i didn’t update my masterlist while doing it and i gotta do all that tomorrow:/) thank u to everyone who interacted with my posts in the last week! it really helped me get out of runt and learn to trust myself more (~￣▽￣)~

the final(!!!)  in my “week of drabbles” challenge! the requirements: has to be over 500 words, posted before 10 pm PST and i can’t overthink it :D

✧　*　‧　⨯　. ⁺　.　★　.　*✧　*　‧　⨯ *　‧ ✧

Geto had spent all day watching. You glide effortlessly over the crystal blue waves. A huge smile plastered on your face. You would run up to him, your surfboard tucked under your arm to talk to him. Thankfully, he was wearing dark sunglasses so you could see the way he was staring at your chest and your thighs and your ass. He wanted it all. 

So after the beach, while everyone was getting drunk on the deck of the beach house. Geto had you ass up on the bed with one of his hands in between your legs, rubbing your sensitive clit. He licked a line down your spin, he could taste the sea salt on your skin. Geto, you cried out. You peered at him, he was stroking his thick cock. Don’t worry, baby, he said, I’ll give you what you want. 

He lined himself up with your entrance, toying with your dripping hole. Shit, he whispered as he slowly slid himself inside of you, so tight, feels so good. It was better than he could have imagined. You were sucking him so well. Unable to speak, you nodded and whined. He was so big, it felt like he was going to crack you in half but it felt so good. More, more, more, you moaned. 

Geto was smiling like a crazy man, it drove him crazy knowing you wanted him that bad. He gave your ass a squeeze as he bottomed you out. He pulled out before jutting his hips forward, his balls slapping your cunt. Yeah, just like that, you said into the sheets. He pulled out and in until he got into a harsh rhythm. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin joined the peaceful backdrop of the waves crashing into the soft sand. 

Geto wrapped a strong arm around your waist to pull you up so your back was pressed against his chest. He nibbled at your ear, his tongue darting around the sensitive skin. Touch yourself for me, ya? You nodded and reached down to rub circles on your needy clit. Geto never once slowed down his pace. His cock drilled into your sopping cunt with such force it made you felt dizzy and so deliciously full. 

M’close, Geto, you whimper. Give it to me, he whispered into your neck. You come around his cock, crying out and holding onto his arm wrapped around you. Your pussy fluttered around him. Good girl, he praised. He continues bucking his hips into you, chasing his own high. His hips stuttered for a moment until he came inside of you, painting your pussy with thick, white cream. He pulled out and chuckled at how his cum spilled out of your abused hole. He pushed it back in with the pad of his thumb.

He kissed the back of your neck before laying you on the bed, face down while he laid next to you. His fingers fluttered up and down your back. Should we go join the rest? You asked him. Nah, let’s stay like this for a bit, he said snuggling into your neck. 

[pearl-d1ver]

Writer’s Motivation ੈ✩‧₊˚

Just a little list of things that help me stay motivated!! This is stuff that works for me, it may not work for you but just thought i’d share <3

I write some world building stuff, character sheets, etc. down in notebooks. I really like having a tangible symbol of my progress. It helps if i write in fun colors or cool notebooks too

I have pinterest boards for my story that contain pictures that remind me of certain scenes, it makes me motivated to write those scenes.

I keep all bookmarks for research well organized, i’m more motivated if I know the sites I need are well cataloged and easy to find

I don’t push myself. If i sit down and writing is physically painful, I don’t do it. It’s very easy to get burnt out and if you don’t try to treat that burnout if won’t leave.

I read short stories of writers I like or stories I find inspiring. It’s easier than reading full length books and works as a quick pick me up.

If working on a main project is too tough, I write short length stuff. Challenges like trying to write certain prompts under 500, 200 etc. words is fun and usually quick. (poetry is always fun for me and gets emotions out)

Happy writing ੈ✩‧₊˚

[formulatrash]

Here's what I did in 2021

I'm not very good at reflecting on what I've done professionally. So to force myself, here's a sort of digest of some of what I did this year.

In numbers terms, I wrote 569 articles for RaceFans and 321 for The Drive, as well as placing pieces in other publications. On an estimate (from average wordcount) that's about 566,100 words. I worked on 92 races and took a relatively modest 17 flights, compared to previous years.

I interviewed a hell of a lot of people but consciously tried to skew that towards women because well. Motorsport eh.

Susie Wolff knows how to get more women into motorsport: hire them

Being LGBTQ+ in racing: 'It's a very old mentality to think sponsors wouldn't support you'

Beth Paretta is on a mission to change how women race at the Indy 500

Jamie Chadwick feels the weight of representing women in motorsport

Jessica Hawkins, once for The Drive and again for RaceFans

I asked Linda Zhang how she and her team designed the F-150 Lightning to be affordable

I spoke to Sabré Cook about being an engineer and a driver

I interviewed Lando Norris during the summer, which was funny for several reasons including the fact he was wearing his swim shorts (boy, your PR officer has a migraine) but mostly that he's great to chat to. It got published in NME (my first byline there for 17 years), The Drive and on RaceFans.

Allan McNish told me, in a very foreshadowing way, at the London Eprix why Audi was still in Formula One power unit talks and rallying legend Ian Davies told me how fitting an entire off-road racing series' gear on a single pallette has to work. And Lucas di Grassi told me what was going through his mind during his audacious London Eprix black flag penalty and Nyck de Vries shared his concerns about rivals' driving standards after winning Formula E's first world championship. And then I asked Sylvain Filippi what a racing team was doing at COP26.

I wrote the season review for electric racing in Motor Sport magazine and covered Extreme E's first round for the Independent.

In terms of racing stuff, I wrote a lot of things - a lot of it pretty time-specific analysis or news but here are some of my best features:

an early assessment of F1's 2021 rookies that, I think, turned out to ring true - although by a roundabout way for them all

how F1's power unit future is divided between teams' visions

how F1 can push the world's most efficient engine even further

how Formula E's 18-way title fight finale came about

did Honda choose the worst time to leave F1... again?

why Lucas di Grassi joined Venturi to stay in Formula E

is cryptocurrency too dirty for F1's "clean" future?

the top 10 Formula E drivers of 2021

the top 10 Formula 2 drivers of 2021

how Honda went from failed pariahs to heroics

how drivers prompted the change in F1's approach to human rights concerns

I annoyed Tesla fans by pointing out its cars don't meet their range estimates even under rigorous testing conditions and that it does not have a self-driving car let alone an autonomous sex robot from Westworld.

I spent five days fighting off starvation in hotel quarantine in earlier this year just so I could get back to a race track. I'd do it again.

2021 was a year where you couldn't escape having to acknowledge ~challenging topics. And that's the point of journalism. So I wrote about how

Formula One is shockingly racist and the testimony of the Hamilton Commission needs to be heard

Climate change is going to get worse even as we have to carry on fighting it

It's ugly that the FIA had to - and only finally did - step in to ask fans to stop racially abusing Hamilton

I looked into several things to which the answer was, categorically: NO

whether it would be a good idea to invent a very inefficient form of electric car that emits CO2

whether we should frack the hell out of the Arctic for nuclear weapons

whether we should dredge some of the most unknown parts of the Pacific for battery rocks

and some more fun experiments like

what happens if you set off 24 hand grenades under the hydrogen tank of a BMW i5

turns out yep, you can make synthetic petrol out of thin air

why cat pee might be what fuels the hydrogen future

why Korea is airlifting thousands of gallons of a human pee chemical

why Pirelli tyres kept exploding around Baku

I wrote about just so many SUVs. At the start of the year, they were completely cancelling out EVs' contribution to reducing CO2 emissions. On a (semi) positive note, it's now about equal, at the end of the year. (fuck SUVs)

In another pleasing symmetry, I wrote about the Lamborghini Countach's rebirth as an 800hp supercapacitor beastie and this low-res art car version of it.

I wrote about some stuff that was just weird like a bargain bodypart mannequin heist opportunity, BMW's weird intergenerational argument advert, what happens if you let Twitch design a car and why not put a drone helipad on your rear windshield I guess.

And some stuff that was just interesting tech like AMG's new F1-inspired hybrid powertrain, JCB using hydrogen combustion in a way that's actually interesting and might make sense: diggers, why Koenigsegg and Geely think making fuel out of volcanoes might be a viable option, how you could make an electric Jeep run underwater and what's cool about racing battery-powered hydrofoils.

I ranked Nissan's EV concepts from least to most dystopian and Stellantis' green slogans from least implying that you will cook and eat people to most. I also explained - or tried to - what the hell is wrong with us here on plague island and why people keep gluing themselves to roads.

And maybe my best piece of the whole year was about how boring old BMW has somehow tuned into the manic edge of queer hyperpop's car obsession in its design language.

I went on some test drives, with varying degrees of abject failure

1881 Trouvé Electric Tricycle

1993 Renault Twingo

Mercedes EQS

BMW iX

BMW i4 M50

And I had the most interestingly varied range of hair colours across Formula E's Unplugged. Oh and for some reason made people very angry with the factual statement that Megan Thee Stallion is millions of times more famous than Martin Brundle.

[danidrabbles]

hi dani my beloved i'm here to request "make me" with frankie 🤲🏻

My most beloved Astrid, as you must know by now I will literally write you anything you want. I'm terrible at this challenge, I cannot keep it to 500 words to save my life, so I hope you like this 1200+ words Frankie one-shot 🥰 Apologies for all the cliché stuff I packed in here. I simply couldn't help myself...

Pairing: Frankie Morales / f!reader

Rating: Explicit

“Frankie,” you giggle, your hands on his rough cheeks directing his mouth away from yours. Your laughter dissolves into a sigh when he moves lower, sucks a mark right under your jaw, “I promise you, they can’t hear us.”

His face is still tucked into the crook of your neck when he stretches you open again with a snap of his hips and a soft grunt. “Yes, they can.”

“Baby, we’re up here in the attic, they’re all the way downstairs in the bedroom next to the kitchen. They can’t hear us.”

He leans up, a hand on either side of your head, and looks at you. His hair is dishevelled, curls springing in odd directions and you can’t help but think he looks almost boyish, younger.

But maybe that’s because you spent all day sitting next to his mother, looking at photo books with pictures of a young Frankie. She managed to expertly point out the most endearing or embarrassing pictures, and tell a story to match. After a particularly funny one - about Frankie, age 4, falling into a fountain - Frankie left with his dad to get the barbecue started, an adorable blush dusted along the apples of his cheek.

You met his parents before, but this is your first visit to their house and it made you imagine Frankie’s childhood; evenings spent by the fireplace, listening to music on the record player, playing in the backyard.

In the evening, you got to see his old bedroom, the room you’d be staying during your visit. It’s still packed full of all things Frankie, teenage Frankie; the books on the shelf, the posters on the wall, some vinyl. You recognized him in all of it, and you were taken aback with the way it made your heart swell - with how they hadn't gotten rid of this stuff, how this part of his life was preserved, and with how well you know him.

Frankie's mind, however, was clearly otherwise occupied, made evident when he wrapped his arms around you from behind and breathed out, “Wanna fuck you.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, up your neck, but you playfully avoided turning your head to meet him. “Did you used to try that line with all the girls you got in here?”

“Hmm, maybe,” he grins against your shoulder, “but none of them were as beautiful,” another kiss as he pushed the strap of your dress over your shoulder, “or as sexy,” his hand on your stomach pulled you flush against him, “as you.”

That made you smile, made you turn in his hold to sling your arms around his neck. “You make a very convincing case,” you said, but you could tell from the look in his eyes that he already knew he had you. You slid your nose along his, whispering against his lips, “Take me to bed, Frankie.”

You’re in that same position now, arms in the same place but your body tucked under his. Problem is, according to your boyfriend, you’re being too loud.

“If you really want me to be quiet, then maybe you should stop fucking me so well.” You circle your hips with a wiggle of your eyebrows and it makes his hips shift and his cheek pull into a dimple when he smiles.

He leans in again, still grinning when he says, “You’re trouble.”

“You like it.” You slide your hands down to the sides of his neck, pressing a series of kisses to his lips while he slowly grinds into you. “Besides, you’re the one who wanted this.”

“Oh?” he says, amused. His hand finds your breast, the stiff peak of your nipple pressing against the centre of his palm, and he earns a muted sigh from you when he squeezes the soft skin. “Didn’t hear you protesting.”

“Hmm, no,” you agree, sliding your hands down his back until you can palm his ass, pull him deeper. “I would never.”

You could never. Especially not now, with the perfect, deep drag of his cock along the slick walls of your pussy, not when the tip of him is nudging something promising. Suddenly, you’re not in the mood to be playful anymore. You need him, and you tell him as much, “Fuck me, c’mon, I’ll be quiet.”

He plants his knees a little firmer into the mattress, forces your legs to spread further and at this new angle, it’s even better than before. He’s hitting that spot every time he pushes inside now, and with the way he’s built you up, you’re terribly close surprisingly fast.

You try to focus on your breathing, bite your lip, force your throat to close up and will every sound that’s threatening to spill out to stay far down as you keep your eyes on his. It’s hard when he’s so close, when all you wanna do is tell him how good he’s making you feel. And you can tell he’s not faring much better; his bottom lip is worried raw, the tendons in his neck pull taunt with every roll of his hips—

The whine that suddenly bubbles up from your throat at a particularly good thrust, is too loud, you know it as soon as it leaves your mouth, and Frankie’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Shh, baby, please.”

The sensation is already back, low in your throat, a sound just waiting to catch you off guard, to escape. “I don’t think - I can’t,” you manage. And oh - you’re gonna come, just a little more and you’re there, and you can’t stop it, can’t shut up— “Make me,” you choke out.

Immediately, a large hand clamps down over your mouth to keep your noises at bay. Frankie’s eyes search yours in question, and you nod at him, give him permission. He picks up his pace, the bed dangerously creak, creak, creaking with it.

“Need you to come for me.” His voice is so low with how he’s trying to stay quiet. “Please, come on, sweetheart. Now, come—”

The curls around his cock brush up against your clit and you're gone.

Oh, god, yes, yes— You cry out against his palm, pull at the matted down hair at the back of his head, push your head back into the pillow, fuck, Frankie.

It comes in waves, blooming from where you grip his cock in a tight squeeze all the way to the tips of your fingers and the peaks of your breasts. Your eyes clench shut while Frankie keeps grinding, and grinding, drawing it out until you feel a tear slide down the side of your face with how good it is.

The only sounds still filling the room are your muffled moans, the dull thuds of his hips meeting yours under the blanket and the squeaking of the bed, until it comes to an abrupt halt when he pushes into you one final time, following after you as he spills inside with a strangled groan.

His palm slides from your mouth, over your cheek and back into the bedding to keep himself up over you with trembling arms. As soon as it does, his mouth finds yours, alternating between harsh kisses and heavy pants of breath against you while you both come down.

It’s a bad idea to drift off now, but when Frankie pulls away from you slowly to find his place next to you and tug you close against him, so warm, and broad, and comfortable, he doesn't give you much of a choice.

-----

You’re up early the next day, and after finding the bathroom, you find yourself sneaking down into the kitchen to get your hands on some coffee. Once there, you find Frankie’s father at the kitchen table, coffee and newspaper in hand. It instantly puts you on alert, back straightening, face twisting into a smile.

You exchange pleasantries, good morning, how did you sleep?, any plans for today? And the more you talk, the more at ease you feel. It’s not until you excuse yourself, coffee in hand, when he says,

“You should tell Francisco that the bed didn’t creak that much back when he was sleeping in it alone.”