#jasper tile

[sen-jou]

Dining - Kitchen Large country kitchen design example with a single-bowl sink, medium-tone wood cabinets, quartz countertops, blue backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island, gray countertops, recessed-panel cabinets, and cement tile backsplash.

[rickor-mortis]

Dining - Kitchen

Large country kitchen design example with a single-bowl sink, medium-tone wood cabinets, quartz countertops, blue backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island, gray countertops, recessed-panel cabinets, and cement tile backsplash.

[shelbgrey]

Save water, Shower together (Emmett Cullen)

Paring: Emmett Cullen x Plus sized!Reader

Summary: after an early morning hunt with Jasper, Emmett can't help but hop in the shower with his beautiful girlfriend.

Warrings: Smut, shower sex, unprotected sex, fingering, slight Dom Emmett, choking, dirty talk, some brests worship/play.

MasterList ML2

Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, Emmett had left the curtains wide open so the morning sun was shining into the room. She shifted underneath the sheets, facing Emmett's side of the bed. She reached for him and instead of feeling the cold chest of her giant boyfriend her finger grazed crumpled sheets. Her eyes slowly fluttered open - bed empty and there was a note on his pillow.

The note read: ‘went out to hunt with Jasper early this morning, I'll be back before you know it. Love, Emmett’

Under his name he drew a small heart and next to it was a goofy smiley face with vampire teeth.

Y/n let out a tired groan, stretching with the note in her hand. She set it to the side and rolled over on his side of the bed, burying her face into his pillow. The bed was filled with the faint scent of his cologne. He didn't need to sleep, but he always made a point of laying in bed with her. She could wake up without him, but still tell he's been there.

After a few minutes she convened herself to get out of bed. She pulled the covers back, walking around the room wearing nothing but Emmett's blue hoodie. She shuffled to the bathroom that was connected to their bedroom and flicked the light on.

Y/n turned the knob on the shower, letting the water heat up as she pulled the oversized hoodie over her head and dropped it on the tile floor. She stepped into the shower letting the hot water run down her body.

When Emmett returned home, he silently crept upstairs, moving with his usual vampire grace. He paused outside the bathroom door, inhaling deeply - y/n’s shampoo mixed with her natural scent hit his nose. A small smirk played on his lips hearing the shower run. Without knocking, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, his eyes immediately drawn to y/n’s naked form under the spray of water. He quickly shed his clothes, stepping into the shower behind her. His large hands found her waist, pulling her back against his chest as he nuzzled into her neck.

“Morning” He mumbled against her neck, his arms wrapping around her waist possessively. His large hands splayed over her stomach protectively. She was curvy, but he also knew she was tiny compared to him, she barely reached his shoulders. He kissed her neck softly, his eyes watching the soap suds slide down her curves.

“mm, good morning to you too” she smiled softly, turning her head to the side, nuzzling her nose against his broad chest.

Emmett hummed contentedly, his hands slowly sliding up her sides, his thumbs brushing under her breasts. He loved her curves, loved the way she fit against him. “You're up early” he murmured as his lips continued to place soft kisses along her neck and shoulder, his hands slowly caressing her body.

“can't sleep without you” she replied.

Emmett smirked at her words. No one had ever said something like that to him before. It was simple, honest, and it meant everything coming from her. He pulled her tighter against him. His mind flashed back to countless nights where she'd curl up against him, throwing her leg over his hips and using his chest as a pillow. He knew she was a cuddler - needed physical contact to sleep peacefully.

His hands slid down her stomach, one hand resting over her belly while the other moved lower. His fingers found her center slowly rubbing circles against her clit making her moan softly as she leaned into his touch. He kissed her neck gently. He felt her body respond to his touch, her breath hitching slightly as he continued to tease her with gentle circles. He loved how she reacted to him, how her body molded against his. He could feel her getting wetter with each passing second, her moans growing softer but more frequent.

Y/n reached behind her, her hand cupping the back of his neck. She leaned her head to the side in silent submission. “Emmett” she moaned softly, digging her nails into his hard skin.

He loved hearing her say his name, especially when she was like this - soft, needy, and completely focused on him. He pushed his fingers deeper, curling them slightly to hit that spot inside of her that made her whimper.

“God, you're so cute when you're sleepy and wet” he groaned against her neck, his fingers moving faster as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. He loved teasing her like this, loved seeing her like this - vulnerable and trusting in his arms. She let out a soft cry as he increased the pace, her legs shaking slightly. He could feel her getting closer, her inner walls clenching around his fingers. He added a third finger, stretching her gently as he kissed and sucked on her neck, marking her skin. Emmett groaned deeply as she arched into him, his cock throbbing urgently against her ass. The feeling of her pulling his hair sent a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to his dick. He curled his fingers deeper inside her, rubbing that sensitive spot relentlessly as his thumb pressed hard on her clit.

"Fuck, just like that. So perfect." He murmured against her neck, his tongue tracing a line from her shoulder to her ear. The way she was tugging on his hair was destroying his composure.

Y/n moaned louder, wrapping her hand around his wrist as he fingers continued to pump inside her. Emmett's eyes rolled back slightly at the sensation of her hand wrapping around his wrist, urging him deeper. “Goddamn” he growled softly, his fingers moving faster and harder inside her. He could feel her inner walls fluttering around him, signaling her impending orgasm.

“fuck, Emmett,” she gasped, rutting her hips against his hands as the knot in her stomach threatened to snap. “I need you inside me”

Emmett's breath hitched at her words, his cock throbbing painfully against her ass. He loved how she begged for him, how desperate she sounded. “cum on my fingers first” he groaned.

“Dammit, Emmett” she said as he let out a frustrated wimper, her head falling back in place against his shoulder as her hand gripped his wrist tighter.

Emmett chuckled darkly, his fingers moving like lightning inside her as his thumb pressed down hard on her clit. “You always get so fucking impatient when you're close,” he teased, his voice low and rough with desire. “Just let go, baby”

“Look how pretty you get when you're needy like this,” he growled against her neck, catching her earlobe between his teeth as he worked his fingers faster, harder. He could feel her inner walls clenching around him, tightening as she got closer.

She let out a low cry, her inner walls tightening almost painfully around his fingers. He loved this part - where she was so close she got almost angry and needy. “Dammit, Emmett” she panted again, her hips moving in sync with his fingers, chasing her release.

Emmett couldn't take it anymore. He leaned down and bit her shoulder hard as he curled his fingers inside her, hitting that perfect spot over and over. “Come on my fucking fingers, baby,” he growled, his own release building rapidly at the sight of her desperate need.

As soon as the words left his mouth, she shattered. Her back arched beautifully, pressing her breasts against his arm as she cried out his name. Her inner walls clamped down so tightly on his fingers he could barely move them, waves of pleasure rolling through her body. “Emmett!”

He groaned deeply at her scream, his fingers still buried deep inside her as she pulsed around them. He slowly pulled them out, bringing them to his mouth and sucking her taste off them with a satisfied smirk. “There's my good girl” he praised, his voice hoarse with desire.

Emmett couldn't wait another second. He spun her around, pushing her back against the shower wall and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he quickly lined himself up with her entrance. He thrust inside her hard and deep. “Fuck!”

“Emmett!” she cried out, gripping his hair in her fists.

Emmett's eyes rolled back at the feeling of being inside her again. He started moving immediately, his hips slamming against hers as he fucked her hard against the shower wall. Water cascaded over them both as he pounded into her over and over, his cock throbbing inside her tight heat. He leaned down and captured her lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing her moans as he continued his brutal pace. One hand gripped her hip hard enough to leave bruises while the other snaked up to wrap around her throat, squeezing gently as he fucked her.

Y/n’s eyes rolled back in pleasure at the feeling of his massive hand around her throat. She couldn't ignore the submissive feelings she felt knowing her throat completely disappeared behind his massive palm. He was strong - stronger than most vampires, yet she trusted him completely and allowed herself to get lost in pleasure every time.

Emmett could feel her getting weaker in his arms, her body responding to his dominance. He squeezed her throat a little harder, not cutting off her air but sending a thrill of submission through her. “Look at me” he growled, his eyes burning into hers as he continued to fuck her relentlessly.

She gasped, staring into his eyes. His bright gold eyes now full blown black from the pleasure. Her nails raked down his large back as he moans came out in puffs.

Emmett's grip on her throat tightened slightly, his cock swelling inside her as he watched her eyes flutter with pleasure and submission. “That’s it,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “Take my cock like a good girl.”

“God, I'll never get over how fucking big you feel” she shudder softly.

He smirked darkly at her words, his hips picking up speed. “if your talkin' so well, I'm not fucking you properly” he grunted, slamming into her harder. His own release was building quickly, her tight walls squeezing him perfectly. She let out a desperate whimper.

“Oh no, is my baby getting sensitive?” Emmett teased, his hand squeezing her neck harder as he picked up speed. He was fucking her so hard the water was splashing everywhere, their wet bodies slapping together loudly. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re desperate.”

“Em,” she whimpered. “I need to cum”

Emmett's eyes flashed with possessive desire at her plea. He released her throat to wrap his arm around her waist, lifting her higher and changing the angle of his thrusts. His other hand moved between them to rub fast circles over her clit. “Then cum for me” he commanded roughly.

She let out a loud cry, her body convulsing as she came hard. Her inner walls tightened almost painfully around his length, drawing a deep groan from him. He dropped his forehead to hers, watching her. He watched her fall apart beautifully, her eyes rolling back, nails digging into his skin, and pussy strangling his cock. He loved seeing her like this - completely undone by him. He slowed his pace slightly, drawing out her orgasm as he chased his own release.

Y/n's hips spasmed, involuntarily thrusting against him. It made his balls tightened, and he knew he was close. He slammed into her one last time, holding himself deep as he came hard inside her. His growl echoed through the shower as he filled her up completely. He stayed buried inside her, kissing her softly now that their intensity had passed.

She whimpered softly, kissing him back gently and lazily. Emmett smiled against her lips, his cock still pulsing inside her as he softened slightly. He kept one arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up as he slowly pulled out, making sure she felt every inch of him leaving her.

“fuck, Emmett” she gasped at the sensitivity.

He set her back down on her feet, keeping a hand on her waist to steady her as she caught her breath. He grabbed a washcloth and began cleaning her up gently, his touch soothing compared to the rough fucking from before. “You did so well, Babe”

“God, you felt so good” y/n said softly, catching her breath.

Emmett smirked, kissing her on the forehead softly. “Always happy to please” He said as he finished cleaning her up then turned off the shower. He wrapped her in a fluffy towel before lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. He laid her down gently and climbed in behind her, pulling her close and nuzzling into her neck.

“I technically didn't even get a shower” she mumbled.

He chuckled softly, his arms tightening around her. “I’ll give you a proper shower later,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Right now, I just want to hold my girl who just got fucked senseless.”

“such a gentleman” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes playfully.

Emmett grinned against her skin, his hand slowly drifting up to cup her breast possessively. “I have my moments,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “But right now, I’m just a man who just claimed his girl and wants to cuddle with her.”

“I can live with that” she smiled softly, nuzzling her body closer to his.

He hugged her closer, his fingers gently played with her nipple. He wasn't trying to turn her on again, but just enjoying the feeling of her in his arms. He was content, happy even. This was what he lived for - moments like these with her.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This is different. It's a handcrafted off-grid house, and it does have electricity inside. It's on 81 acres of land in Jasper, AR, built right into the rock, and has 1bd, 1ba. I would call it a fixer-upper and it needs a good cleaning. It looks to be 3 stories high.

It's an ambitious build. They did the tile floors themselves and looks like they may have chopped down the trees from the surrounding land. There's a mural, too. I guess that this is the main living area.

It's an open concept room and larger than it looks from outside.

Interesting stair railings.

Large heat stove.

Then, here they made a knotty pine kitchen that looks like a little stand.

The view from above.

I would say that this is the bedroom.

Two sets of stairs.

Looks like a table. I really don't know what this room is, but I think it's on the 3rd level.

Whatever this is, is colorful.

The bath is surprisingly large.

Probably a water tank.

The lot is very wooded and this area near the house has the huge boulder.

The house looks nice in summer surrounded by trees.

This looks like the road in.

There's a very significant amount of land - 81 acres, so of course it's going to be isolated, b/c it's surrounded by so much acreage.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/8374-Newton-Country-Jasper-AR-72641/447503299_zpid/

[labradorite4ravenclaw]

Second pendent group of mine

Do not claim as your own. These took a lot of work. Don't be that person -_-

Posting some of the wire wrapped pendents I've made cuz they're pretty and I'm proud of them♡

Do not claim as your own. I worked hard on these suckers.

[banj0possum]

Can we get more Goth yandere? Like when he offered us the chance to read those dark fairytales together I imagine us in his bed on a rainy day and a candle is lit and we’re snuggled up next to him reading about the darkest shit ever and he’s stuttering because he’s so nervous. Like we’re both under the blankets with our leg over his

*sniff* man..

Yandere! Goth x GN! Reader Pt. 2

🥀 He was dreaming right? This was a dream? Yeah it's a totally a dream!

🥀 No it's not a dream..

🥀 "Jas? So is it your place or mine?" Your voice snaps him out of his trance.

🥀 "Wh-oh! Uhm, y-you can come over to my place if..thats ok.." He's trying to keep calm, but the fact that you're coming over to his house is almost unreal to him!

🥀 The two of you have been partnered up for a science project and you wanted to work on in together at home.

🥀 Jasper was trying not to pass out from happiness over the prospect of hanging out with you without anyone to bother you two, maybe he can finally make a move!

🥀 You walk home with him, and you arrive at his house. It was a grey house with dark blue tiles on the roof. The yard was filled with bushes and vines that grew everywhere, it was rather charming.

🥀 Your both enter and you're greeting by his mom. She was in the middle of cooking when she greeted you sweetly.

🥀 "Why hello dear! I've never seen Jasper bring home a friend before! I'm so glad he's making friends in school!" She smiles.

🥀 Jasper blushes and pouts "Mom of course I have friends.." he laughs, giving his mom a big hug.

🥀 "Awe I know sweetie, now you two come in! I'm making dinner!" She shoos us away from the kitchen so she could cook, and we run up the stairs to his room.

🥀 His room was full of posters and fairy lights; it was gloomy but in a weirdly comforting way. You could see shelves full of curiosities like a jar full of what seemed like raw ore and..is that the pen you lost?

🥀 Jasper lights a few candles which were scented like flowers, and he sits down on his desk "So where do we start?" he smiles.

🥀 The whole time you were working on the project, Jasper was smiling like an idiot. The thought of you spending time with him in his room sent him over the moon!

🥀 Whenever you leaned near him to look at his laptop, he may or may not have gotten a whiff of your hair..

🥀 A few hours pass, and it's started raining. Jonesy came into the room to sleep in our lap as you two finished up the report.

🥀 "Huh, that's weird. Jonesy hates anyone that isn't me or my mom.." Jasper smiles as he pets the little black cat on your lap.

🥀 You joke that you're his second parent and Jasper turns bright red and starts stuttering like crazy. "R-really? I-I mean you can if you wanna I'm not stopping you! N-not like I'm asking you to be my partner of anything right? I mean it's just a cat! Hahah..yeah.."

🥀 You smile at him and laugh before looking around his room again, complimenting his decor.

🥀 "Th-thanks..Oh! I promised you I'd show you my books! I just got Dante's Inferno! You wanna read it with me?" He asks happily.

🥀 You agree and he gets the book, the two of you lying on his bed as he opens a lamp and starts reading, but he's utterly crap at not stuttering every 10 words.

🥀 He could feel you leaning on his shoulder, your bodies getting closer with each paged turned, it was both exciting and calming to him.

🥀 Jonesy jumps off the bed and out the room as the two of you read.

🥀 The atmosphere was so relaxing, the soft glow of the candles and fairy lights in the room and the rain tapping against the window was like a river flowing all your worries and anxieties away.

🥀 Soon enough the two of you drift off to sleep, cuddling eachother with the book discarded on the floor, Jasper held you close to his chest as your legs were tangled together under his blanket.

🥀 "Kids? Time for- oh.." Jasper's mom quiet's down as she peeks in and sees us sleeping together. She giggles and gently closes the door and picking up Jonesy. "We should let them rest for a bit Jonesy.." She smiles as she goes back down.

[ghostlysoaps]

Emergency First Aid

He finds Ghost in the bathroom, needle and thread in crimson-stained hands. 

White porcelain muddled with grime and blood, smeared across the cubicle glass. A bottle of something see-through sitting on the lip of the tub – the label near illegible by the fingerprints wrapped around it. Every detail pointing towards it being a scene from some B-list horror flick. Except it can't be. Because Johnny’s nails dig into the palms of his hands and pain has no presence in dreams.

Ghost's skin is almost as pale as the cradle he sits in. Johnny can see the stark blue of his veins through the fragile skin of his wrists. A far more flattering colour on him than red, it's why he pretends he doesn’t know where his favourite henley ended up.

"Get out of my fucking room, Soap."

Johnny nods and then proceeds further into the room, careful to avoid the droplets of blood staining the tiles in a fucked-up breadcrumb trail.

Ghost levels him with an unamused glare, a non-verbal "go away," ringing louder than if he'd said it outright. 

He ignores that too.

The stitching is neither crude nor neat when he leans in for a closer look. Serviceable. Bound to scar. It might have regardless, medical ain't miracle workers, but it might, might have left a thinner mark.

"Soap?"

Ghost's eyes are brown as jasper, doe-wide, extruding exhaustion and warmth – in spite of how much effort he puts into burying that bleeding heart of his. They track Johnny’s progress warily. Glides over him when he wraps his own fingers around the bottle, fingers a good half-inch shorter than the red stains already there. Johnny knows all this despite not looking. Because they've been here before. Too often for his liking. 

He sets about cleaning the tacky trails of blood from Ghost’s skin. 

"Johnny?"

Why are his hands shaking? They're not supposed to do that he doesn't think.

"It's just a scratch, I've had worse."

His tongue unsticks from where it lies dead and heavy in his mouth. "I fuckin' know. 'M not blind."

Warm, calloused hands envelop his own. They stop him from digging deeper welts into his own skin. Massages gently until Johnny, against his will, unclenches and unfolds like a flowering bloom at the first hint of sunlight.

"This won't be what kills me–"

"Haud yer wheesht! Whit this shoddy excuse fer sutures anything's–"

"–because I've no intention of leaving you yet," Ghost– Simon continues, as if Johnny hadn't interrupted him at all. "I've clawed myself back from the edge of hell more times than I care to count." He knocks their heads together, one hand moving to thread fingers though Johnny’s hair. "It's much easier now that I have something to come back to."

Johnny takes a moment to process and sift through the wreckage those words leave behind.

"Take yer damn mask off an' say tha' to my face," he growls.

And Simon doesn't hesitate for a second. He peels the mask off, his second skin, as if it's easier than breathing. As if Johnny’s words were the decree of a higher power he's helpless to obey. Scarred skin and chapped lips and dark circles blending into greasepaint greets him – a sight no longer unfamiliar, but a privilege to behold nonetheless. 

"I-" is as far as Simon comes before Johnny is surging forward to take his bottom lip between his teeth. He kisses him like something feral and starved. As if he could crawl into Simon's mouth if he tried hard enough. Push through muscle, bone and sinew to make space for himself in the hollow of his ribcage.

He doesn't like the anger with which he devours him – the ever-present companion snarling in his chest – but he needs him to understand. Thinks that if he tries hard enough Simon might taste the words lodged firmly behind his molars. I can't stand to lose you. It scares me to the point of losing my breath. I love you. I love you. I love you. 

For all his rage, for all the fiery passion with which he lashes out, in the end it all stems from fear.

"Could've at least gone to medical, ye absolute weapon," he bites out, one hand stressing over the skin right beneath Simon's wound.

"Couldn't stand the thought of anyone touching me," Simon murmurs, catching Johnny’s wrist the moment he goes to pull away as if burnt. "'S better now. I'd have told you to fuck off proper if I didn't–" he cuts himself off, the tips of his ears going pink.

Johnny fills in the blanks, eyes falling shut for the fraction of a second.

"Dinnae deep down wan' me to be here."

Simon shrugs.

Johnny exhales, leans forward and rests his forehead to Simon's shoulder, kisses him sweetly right after.

"Let me help you."

"Please." 

He's glad to be looking at Simon now because Simon, whenever Ghost has fled his visage, is an open book. And the way he's looking at Johnny? It's as if he'd taken every soft, sweet thing Johnny feels for him and is reflecting it right back.

With another steadying breath, Johnny gets to work. Gauze and adhesive tape, as quick as he dares so as to not prolong the pain. And when he's done he brushes his lips over the white bandaging, looking up through his lashes when the simple gesture of affection causes Simon's breath to hitch. Keeps to his knees despite the ache in them.

"You come to me next time," Johnny says, a plea more so than the demand he'd hoped for.

Simon reaches for him, cups his stubbled cheek in hand, thumb rubbing in broad strokes across a near imperceptible scar there – his next words ringing with the gravity of church bells and promises spoken within. 

"Alright, Johnny."

---

Prompts via @whumperless-whump-event and @seth-whumps

[fleur-a-whump]

Overloaded (#2)

late night sparks

guys guess what!! little villain guy has a name!! it’s Jasper and we love him dearly. also team leader’s got a name too, it’s Miguel, but we don’t really care about him because he’s a bitch. plus new character reveal: Chase, a teammate. he is also, unsurprisingly, a bitch.

Content: ex-villain whumpee, hero/leader whumper, manipulative whumper, collars, electrocution (for realsies this time), implied referenced abuse of a minor, referenced bullying, bad team dynamics, adult language

in which Miguel gets worse. takes place probably a few months after "preventative measures"

previous | masterlist | next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jasper's back was sore. And his arms. And his everything.

He sat kneeling on the kitchen floor, determinately ignoring the pins and needles that pricked at his calves. He couldn't stop, couldn't take a break till the floor was spotless. Chase had once again threatened some mixture of violence and telling on him to Miguel for insubordination if he didn't do the man's chores. 

Big man-child, Jasper thought bitterly.

So, here he was, scrubbing well past midnight, after having spent the day straining his powers in the lab and doing his own chores. 

Jasper sat back to indulge a long, dramatic yawn. He nearly jumps out of his skin when an impatient ahem cuts through the previously dead silent kitchen. His bleary eyes take several long moments to focus on Miguel, leaning against the doorway. The hero would look casual if it weren’t for the peeved look on his face. Jasper’s stomach does a somersault.

Sheepish, Jasper drawls, “Heyyy, Miguel…”

Miguel is not amused. “What the fuck are you doing out here,” he snaps.

Jasper squeezes his hands into fists to quell the tremors. He stutters, “J-just cleaning.”

The villain can hardly finish the statement before the unsettling and painful electricity of the collar arcs through him. His muscles seize and ache and burn and it feels like death and he can't breathe—

Just as quickly as it began, the electricity stops. He gasps and collapses to the side, just barely able to catch himself on his forearm. Small, choked-off whimpers escape him as he tries to catch his breath and keep his volume to a minimum. His father never liked to hear him whine.

Jasper continues to shudder as his powers go haywire. The typically comforting restless skittering of his own electricity under his skin now burns as it travels across the newly fried neurons. More than that, it feels wrong for such a core part of his being to cause him pain. The feeling is everywhere, from the tip of his nose to his toes, and it is everything. Little sparks and crackles of energy fly from his shaking hands as it becomes too painful to completely contain his powers. Simply existing—not to mention actually using his powers—will be painful while his body tries to recover from the unnaturally strong current, engineered just for him.

As his body gradually backs down from its state of panic, ire at the punishment surges within him. The hero didn’t even let him explain. It was Chase who ordered him to do his chores; ordered him to not leave this room until it was spotless.

“I was just following orders!” he bursts.

Oh shit.

A quick glance at Miguel and his quirked eyebrow lets him know just how badly he just fucked up. And even if it didn't, the second burst of electricity from the collar definitely spells it out for him.

A guttural groan escapes his clenched teeth as he feels the current worm its way through his neurons, igniting them. The burning, all-encompassing pain is all he knows. Spots cloud his vision. Seconds feel like minutes, feel like hours, feel like eternity, until he wonders if that's all he'll ever feel. Nothing but the gut-wrenching pain of his greatest gift, so deeply intertwined with his being, turned against him and ripping him apart from the inside out. 

And then, it stops.

Jasper’s body fully gives out this time, his chin bouncing off the tile and teeth clacking painfully. He's a pitiful mess of useless limbs. His muscles feel like jelly and yet are still forced to endure the waves of aftershock, twitching and spasming irregularly. Each movement is agony.

He gulps oxygen, having still been out of breath from the first shock. He can hardly hear his own moans and whimpers bouncing around the kitchen with each breath over the ringing in his ears, and he has zero energy to control them this time.

A hand lands on his shoulder, and he can't help the delayed but violent flinch that ripples through him. But the hand is soft, gentle, as it pulls him to lie on his back. It guides his hand to rest on someone's chest, to follow as it rises and falls rhythmically. He latches onto it, using it as a guide to breathe and bring himself back to reality. Another hand gently cards through his loose curls as he works to steady his breathing and his vision clears. If he eagerly leans into the gentle touch, well, he can blame it on his delirious state.

When Miguel's face finally comes into focus above him, a shiver runs through him, and he averts his gaze. He'll blame that on his still-spasming muscles.

Miguel’s soft voice calls for his attention again. He focuses back on his leader’s face, haloed above him by the bright kitchen lights.

“There you are. You're alright, it's okay,” he soothes.

The hero lets Jasper relish the contact a moment longer before gently returning his hand to his own chest.

Jasper swallows the whimper at the loss.

Miguel lets out a long-suffering sigh. It gives Jasper whiplash how suddenly the familiar weight of anxiety settles back in his chest.

“I don't like doing that, man. You know better than to be in the common areas after your curfew, and you definitely know better than to talk back, bud. I don't wanna have to punish you, but the rules are rules for a reason. Yeah, they're to protect the team, but they're also to protect you. What if you'd had another episode with your powers?”

He decidedly doesn’t think about the ‘episodes’ Miguel is referring to. Still, the disappointment in his savior's voice hurt almost as much as the electricity. His eyes flood with tears as guilt settles like a rock in his stomach. The hero was right. He knew the rules, and he agreed to them. Anything to stay. Anything to be good.

His voice breaks, small and shaky, as he says, “I-I'm really s-sorry, Mig-guel.”

The villain’s not one hundred percent sure what exactly he's sorry for, but, fuck, is he sorry.

“Okay, that's alright, don't cry. I think you've learned your lesson. You're fine.” 

The words should be comforting. The edge to his tone, however, is not. Jasper blinks hard to clear the tears, not wanting to annoy him. That was another thing his father didn't like.

Miguel brings him back to the present, asking, “Why are you cleaning the floor anyways? That's not on your list for this week.”

Jasper swallows hard past the lump still in his throat. He’s afraid of what Chase will do to him if he tells Miguel and Miguel decides he doesn’t like that. However, he’s more “Chase s-said I should be busy all the t-time to k-keep me out of trouble…”

Miguel hums in thought, ever casual as Jasper trembles on the floor below of him. 

“I actually like that idea. We wouldn't want you getting bored. You'd be helping the team out a lot too, taking some work off our plates so we can train more. I'll work on the new chore schedule in the morning.”

Jasper bit his lip. He could read between the lines.

“A-and, my training?”

“We can reduce it some,” Miguel says, thoughtful. “I know you've been struggling to keep up.”

He makes it sound like a kindness, voice full of sympathy. No matter how gentle the tone, Jasper has to blink the tears from his eyes again. He knew he wasn't the strongest or the most capable, but that was the point of training. He'd never be good enough to redeem himself without the chance to train.

Miguel sighs again and stands. He suddenly reaches towards him. Jasper has to carefully control the urge to flinch, not knowing what to expect from the movement. He never knows what to expect.

Miguel simply holds it out towards him, however, expectantly. It takes Jasper a moment to realize he's trying to help him up. He takes the hand after that moment's hesitation and wavers on unsteady feet as the blood finally rushes back into his legs. He blinks spots from his vision, gripping Miguel for dear life until he's sure he's not going to pass out.

The hero gives him an easy smile, clapping a hand on his shoulder just a bit too hard. He nudges him in the direction of the bedrooms.

“You look tired, man. I think it's time for bed,” he all but coos.

It sounds like a caring gesture, or at the very least a joke. Jasper knows it's an order.

He dutifully mumbles, “Goodnight,” before making his way to the door slowly. He knows he probably looks like a newborn fawn as his jittery body tries to carry him to his bed.

“And Jasper?”

A slight jolt of anxiety stops him as he turns back to his leader.

“If I catch you out past curfew again, we're going to have an issue worth more than a little jolt, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the villain says, too tired to bite back the honorific once totally engrained in him.

He doesn't notice the way Miguel preens at the submission.

“Attaboy, Jasper. Goodnight.”

The praise rings hollow after the night's events, but as he makes his way back to his room, dead on his feet, he allows the praise to warm him. 

He'll take what he can get.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

jasper doesn't deserve this :( but he will get more >:)

tags!! lmk if you wanna be added (or removed, I added some extra people)!!

@whumpsday

@sergeant-jasper (yo i didn't even realize lol)

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@crystalrose141

@aloafofbreadwithanxiety

@paingoes

@elizaisnotokay

@quaggasus

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 3

word count: 4.5k

Harry was fucked, to say the least. He locked his apartment door shut with a little more force than necessary, the familiar click echoing in the otherwise silent space. Slinging his keys onto the kitchen counter, they skidded across the surface and came to a halt near a half-empty coffee mug from this morning—well, yesterday morning now.

A deep sigh pushed its way from his chest, long and ragged, as if releasing the weight of the night. He ruffled his wild curls with both hands, shaking his head as if that might somehow untangle the web of thoughts twisting around his brain. The alcohol had to be the culprit. There was no other explanation. No way in hell he'd laugh, smile, or even entertain the idea of being remotely interested in someone—especially someone like her.

"Bloody ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, barely noticing the small, darting shadow until it was too late.

"Jasper! Shit," Harry hissed as his bare foot caught the tail end of his cat, who meowed indignantly and darted off to his cat tree like a streak of gray lightning. The cat perched itself on the top level, blinking down at him with what could only be described as judgmental disapproval.

"Yeah, yeah. My bad," Harry mumbled, dragging a hand down his face as he trudged toward the hallway.

His boots thudded heavily against the hardwood floor as he toed them off in front of his bedroom door. They landed haphazardly, but he didn't bother fixing them. He slid open the wooden drawer of his dresser with a faint creak, rifling through the neatly folded clothes until he grabbed a pair of sweatpants. He slung a clean pair of boxers from the messier corner of the drawer before shuffling into the bathroom, the cool tile against his feet making him shiver.

The idea of showering sounded exhausting, but he needed a reset. A chance to wash away the night—the faint smell of alcohol lingering on his skin, the buzz of conversations, the muffled beat of music—and maybe, just maybe, the lingering memories of her.

He turned the knob, letting the water heat up as he leaned against the sink, staring into the mirror. His reflection stared back, wet curls sticking to his forehead, jaw tight, eyes shadowed with something he couldn't quite name. Frustration? Confusion?

"Get a grip, mate," he muttered, bracing his hands against the edge of the sink.

But no matter how much he tried to convince himself, her face kept resurfacing. The way she smiled nervously, the faint blush creeping up her neck when he teased her, the way her fingers fiddled with her water bottle. It wasn't just the alcohol. He knew that now.

The water had turned hot enough to steam the mirror by the time he stepped in, letting the warmth cascade over him. He scrubbed at his skin with a vigor that bordered on aggression, as if he could physically remove her from his thoughts.

When he finally climbed into bed, hair damp and sweatpants hanging low on his hips, Jasper was already curled at the foot of the mattress. Harry shifted under the blankets with a groan, his rings clinking softly in the tray on the nightstand. He flexed his fingers, feeling oddly bare without them, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the way his thoughts circled like vultures over the memory of Aspen.

"Go to sleep," he muttered to himself, his voice muffled by the pillow.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Aspen's eyes fluttered open to the distant roar of a lawnmower, the sound growing louder as if it were parked just outside her bedroom window. She groaned softly, one hand reaching out to fumble for the window, which she managed to shove closed with a loud thunk.

For a moment, she lay there, eyes shut, body cocooned in the warmth of her bed. But the buzzing in her ears wouldn't relent, and her mind was already awake, humming with an energy she couldn't ignore.

Resigned, she rolled over, her hand blindly patting under her pillow until it connected with the cool edge of her phone. She squinted at the screen, her eyes adjusting to the light as she scrolled through notifications.

Among the usual clutter of messages and app updates, one stood out:

Robin Grant posted a new announcement! EIA 013 089724.

Her lips pressed together as she opened the message.

Robin Grant: All final portfolios have been graded. Sorry for the wait...

Aspen skimmed the rest, her eyes catching on the part about feedback. Her nose scrunched but she couldn't help but be slightly excited. She had been waiting for over two and a half weeks for her grade on the portfolio for her ethics class. She put in a lot of hard work, probably the most she had that semester. Knowing she didn't have much of a schedule today besides clean up her place a little bit and make lunch, she decided today would be a good day to grab her portfolio. Then the semester would really be over!

It took Aspen a good ten minutes to drag herself out of bed with enough motivation to freshen up. She rolled out of bed with a groan, dragging herself into the bathroom. Her routine was quick but thorough. She yawned at herself a couple of times through the process of washing her face, brushing her teeth, and changing. She decided to throw her hair into a ponytail but pulled her front pieces out. The girl decided on a pink GAP Wicked hoodie and a pair of black flared leggings, deciding to go simple with her Ugg slip ons.

She slung her tote bag over her shoulder, deciding to do some reading at the local library before she clocked in after she grabbed her folder. She didn't need to drive, and Aspen was more than grateful everything was not just within walking distance, but a nice sight and was overall safe and comforting. Aspen applied a thin coat of the pink lipgloss to her lips before tossing it in her bag as she went to go text Isobel. However, the girl noticed a voicemail Isobel left at 3:47 AM. Aspen pressed play once her headphones connected through the jack and she popped them into her ears.

"Heyyyyy, Asp," Isobel's voice slurred, followed by laughter and the faint murmur of Zayn in the background. "I am so drunk, oh my god—Zayn!"

Aspen cracked a smile as she locked the apartment door behind her, continuing on with her path and listening. She could hear the muffled sound of a slightly more sober Zayn in the background who was telling Isobel to relax. Laughing broke out on the other end of the phone followed by more muffling before she heard Zayns voice speak up.

Aspen chuckled softly, shaking her head as she made her way down the quiet street.

Zayn's voice broke through the muffled sounds. "We just wanted to say we hope you made it home safe! Night, Aspen!"

Aspen smiled as the voicemail ended, her fingers typing out a quick reply.

Aspen: you're so silly. i made it home, thank you. & nice voicemail lol! xx

Aspen knew it was far too early for Isobel to be awake, and even if she was, her headache would prohibit her from opening an electronic for the next five hours of her awakening. Her shift started at 12 PM, and according to the time on her phone, it was barely eleven as she left campus. The library was only a ten minute walk away and that would leave her with approximately forty minutes to read (taking into account the 'people traffic'.) The girls feet padded along the clean sidewalks, her eyes dancing over the different shoppes of the town.

She was halfway to the library when she saw him.

The tattoo shop caught her eye first—Black Rose, its sign swinging gently in the breeze. She'd never noticed it before, even though she must have walked past it a dozen times. Huh, she thought. She somehow never knew the close proximity of where Zayn worked, let alone Harry. And then there he was, stepping out of the shop, a stack of papers tucked under his arm.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"Yep, got it." Harry muttered to Niall on the phone as he made his way through the tattoo shop. It was empty, as they were typically closed on the weekends. He had only come in to turn in those pesky papers today, knowing he wouldn't have time to on Monday and Zayn nor Niall would not touch them with a ten foot pole. 

He flicked the last light off before he clicked the red button to end the call so he would lock up the parlor. As he stuffed the keys into his back pocket, he looked up and down the street. That's when his eyes locked with Aspens. 

Her smile came unbidden, soft and warm, as their eyes met. She raised a hand to wave— just a small, polite gesture— but before she could complete it, he turned away.

It wasn't abrupt, but it wasn't natural either. It was as though he hadn't seen her at all, even though the eye contact had been unmistakable.

Her hand dropped awkwardly, her smile fading as she continued on her way. But her thoughts lingered, circling back to that fleeting moment. Had she done something wrong?

He froze slightly, nothing on his face hinting that he technically saw her; but the eye contact was a dead giveaway. He turned on his heel and tucked the papers under his arm, walking in the opposite direction to his car. He muttered something to himself along the way. 

Harry was not himself last night, he was sure. He was almost too nice. That was not something he was fond of her or anyone knowing. Especially her. Stuck up, four point zero grade point average. His eyes rolled at the thought. And when he got into his car, the slam was more than a little extra and could definitely had been heard by Aspen if she was still there.

Aspen was quick to collect herself. She convinced herself that he might have just not seen her in the rush he was in. Her hand squeezed around the straps of her tote-bag in a fidgeting manner as she continued her walk to the library for her shift.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The bell to the library rang.

"See you tomorrow, Marion!" Aspen chirped and waved before the door rang shut behind her. She clocked out at six pm and pulled her phone from her pocket to shoot a text to Isobel.

Aspen: hey iz!

Izz 🐝: Whats up Asp !!!

Aspen: whats for dinner? should i grab takeout?

Izz 🐝: Nah, zayn dropped us off some food rn 

Another text chimed.

Izz 🐝: Chinese! oh and Harold is here lol

Aspen looked up from her phone to look left, then right, then left again before crossing the street to get on the path quickest back to the apartments. She was starving. When she read Isobel's message, she couldn't help but think about Harry. Maybe she would ask him what was up, but that would only happen if she could muster up the courage to recover from the embarrassing moments hours ago that she still cringed at when she thought of it.

Aspen: sounds yum! ill be home soon im on beatrice ave

The girl decided to simply ignore the text from Isobel about the green eyed man, but she mentally groaned knowing Isobel would only bring it up again once they were alone. The thing about Iz was that no matter how drunk she got, she never forgot a single thing. So, of course, when she had acknowledged Harry before slipping into the crowd, the blonde haired woman made a mental note to pesk Aspen about it the following day.

The townhouse soon came into view as one of her favorite songs came to an end in her headphones. She had them out and wrapped the white cord around her phone to tuck it into her pocket when she saw the familiar black sleek car-- Harry's. The red lights blared to their full extent in the dark night, letting her know it was still on. The exhaust pumped out smoke as the car rumbled slightly. 

There was really no way to get to the front door of the townhouse without passing Harrys car one way or another. So, she mustered up the strength to take those fifteen steps and set foot. About five steps in was when she decided to turn towards Harrys car. In his side mirror, she saw the familiar curls of his hair tilted down, probably looking at his phone while he waited for Zayn. Her feet carried her to the passenger window that was rolled down and just as she passed, she turned to face him. 

"Hey," She quipped, which didn't get the mans attention. So, she tried again, a little more kick in her soft voice followed by a small tap to the door. He looked up.

"Uh, who are you?" The thick accent carried out while his slim fingers pushed his sunglasses up onto his head. It was six pm, she thought, but didn't say anything to Harry about it. His question took her aback. There was no way he could have been that intoxicated to forget who she was.

Aspen's smile faltered, her fingers hesitating mid-air where they'd lightly tapped the door. She blinked at him, unsure if he was joking or serious. Judging by the cold, impassive look on his face, it was definitely the latter.

"It's Aspen," she said softly, her voice just loud enough to carry through the window. "We met last night? You gave me a ride home?"

Harry's green eyes narrowed slightly, scanning her face like he was trying to place her, though something in the flicker of recognition betrayed him. He knew who she was, of course he did, but he wasn't about to make this easy.

"Oh, right," he said curtly, his tone clipped as he leaned back against his seat. "Didn't recognize you for a second. Not exactly a face I'd remember" His fingers tapped against the steering wheel, the casual movement at odds with the sudden tension in the air. "What's up?"

Aspen's lips parted, but no sound came out. She hadn't really thought this far ahead. What was she doing? She'd just wanted to say hi— wanted to acknowledge him after the strange way he'd walked off earlier. But now, standing here under the weight of his icy stare, she felt her cheeks grow warm, her resolve crumbling.

"I, uh..." she trailed off, clutching the strap of her tote bag like it might anchor her to the spot. "I just wanted to say hi. That's all."

Harry tilted his head, his expression unreadable, though his eyes carried a sharpness that made her feel small. "Hi," he said flatly, as if the word itself was a chore to get out.

There was a beat of silence, the awkwardness stretching between them like a taut string.

Aspen shifted on her feet, her stomach churning with a mix of nerves and embarrassment. She'd known approaching him was a risk—Harry didn't exactly give off the vibe of someone who welcomed small talk—but she hadn't expected him to be this dismissive.

"Okay," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Well, I'll let you get back to... whatever you're doing." She motioned vaguely at his phone, her eyes darting away from his piercing gaze.

Harry didn't respond right away. He watched her for a moment, his jaw tightening as an internal battle waged within him. Every instinct he had screamed at him to keep his distance, to push her away now before she got too close. But there was also a pang of guilt—small but persistent—at the hurt flickering across her face.

This is for the best, he told himself firmly. He couldn't afford to let someone like her get involved with someone like him. Aspen seemed... nice. Sweet, even. And he couldn't risk her peeling back the layers of who he really was.

"You should probably stick to your friends next time," he said finally, his voice cool but with an edge of something unspoken. "People like me? We're not exactly the 'friendly neighbor' type."

Aspen's breath hitched, his words slicing through her chest like a cold blade. Her hands gripped her tote strap tighter as she fought to keep her composure. She knew she wasn't the most confident person—knew she had a tendency to second-guess herself in social situations—but this? This was brutal.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Right," she said quietly, the word trembling slightly as she nodded. "Got it."

Without waiting for a response, Aspen turned on her heel and walked briskly toward the townhouse. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of humiliation and frustration bubbling inside her. Why had she even bothered?

Behind her, Harry watched her retreating figure, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He told himself he was doing the right thing—keeping her at arm's length was for her own good. But the tightness in his chest said otherwise.

As Aspen reached the door and fumbled with her keys, she stole one last glance over her shoulder. Harry was back on his phone, his sunglasses sliding down to shield his eyes once more. It was as if she hadn't even been there.

Aspen stepped inside and closed the door firmly behind her, leaning against it as she tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She felt foolish, vulnerable.

And Harry? Harry sat in his car, staring blankly at the screen of his phone, unable to shake the image of the way her eyes had looked just before she walked away. 

Aspen couldn't help the heavy weight on her shoulders that rose and fell with a shaky sigh, a new heat complimenting her face. Not a face he'd remember? She tried her best to shake the feeling as the elevator took her up to the third story, dinging as it opened and she turned left down the hall to find the shared apartment with Isobel. Just as she was about to open the door, the wood frame flung open and Zayn was about to take a step out.

"Aspen," Zayn greeted, his brows raising in mild surprise as he stepped back slightly to avoid bumping into her. "Didn't think you'd be back this early, but I brought you both some takeout."

Aspen tried to force a smile, but it faltered. "Yeah, just... my shift ended at six, and thank you." She kept her voice light, but the tightness in her chest made it hard to sound convincing.

Zayn tilted his head, his sharp eyes scanning her face. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Aspen replied quickly, brushing past him into the apartment. She was grateful for the familiar warmth of the space, the faint scent of lavender from the diffuser Isobel loved so much, and the cluttered comfort of her best friend's things scattered across the shared living area.

Zayn didn't move, lingering in the doorway with a slight frown. "You sure? You look kinda..." He gestured vaguely toward her, his expression softening. "Off."

Aspen hesitated, the lump in her throat making it hard to respond. She didn't want to drag Zayn into her feelings, especially since he was likely on his way to see Harry. But before she could brush him off again, Isobel's voice rang out from her bedroom.

"Zayn! Did you grab my charger from the car?"

Zayn sighed and glanced down the hall before turning back to Aspen. "We'll talk later, yeah? If you need to." He offered her a small, encouraging smile before stepping out and closing the door behind him. Zayn and Aspen weren't fairly close, so it was foreign for him to offer an ear. But regardless, she was appreciative.

Aspen let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, her shoulders slumping as she made her way to the couch. She dropped her tote bag onto the floor and sank into the cushions, staring blankly at the coffee table in front of her.

Her mind replayed the encounter with Harry on an endless loop. His dismissive tone, the way he acted like she was a stranger— like she didn't matter. She wanted to convince herself it was just her overthinking things, that maybe she'd caught him at a bad time, but the sting of his words refused to fade.

"Hey, babe, did you—oh!" Isobel appeared in the hallway, her brows lifting in surprise. "Asp! I didn't hear you come in!"

"Just got back," Aspen said, her voice quieter than usual. The Uggs were slid off by the coffee table along with her bag and she sat criss cross on the sofa, a takeout box cradled in her lap as she opened the chopsticks wrapper.

Isobel frowned as she approached, plopping down beside her on the couch. "What's wrong? You look like someone just told you your favorite bookstore closed down or something."

Aspen managed a weak laugh at that, shaking her head. "It's nothing. I just... ran into Harry on my way in."

Isobel's eyes lit up in interest. "Oh, yeah? How'd that go?"

Aspen hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. "Not great. He, uh, pretended he didn't even know who I was." She avoided eye contact with Isobel, just a habit she never shook from when she was a kid.

"What?" Isobel's face twisted in disbelief. "Are you serious? He gave you a ride home last night!"

"Yeah, well..." Aspen shrugged, trying to downplay how much it hurt. "Guess I'm not memorable."

Isobel scoffed, crossing her arms. "That's bullshit. Harry's just... ugh, I don't even know. Moody? Difficult? Zayn's always talking about how he keeps to himself and doesn't let anyone in. It's not you, I promise."

Aspen gave her a small smile, appreciating the reassurance even if it didn't fully ease the ache in her chest. "Thanks, Iz." The wooden chopsticks twirled in the chow mein, but Aspen didn't have the desire to eat. But she didn't want to waste food despite her new found lack of appetite. She brought a few strands into her mouth.

"You want me to say something to Zayn?" Isobel offered, leaning forward with a determined look. "Because I will. No one gets to treat my best friend like that."

"No, it's fine," Aspen said quickly, shaking her head. "I don't want to make a big deal out of it. It's not like Harry and I are friends or anything."

Isobel frowned but didn't push further, instead reaching over to give Aspen's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I'm always down to stir the pot."

Aspen laughed softly at that, some of the tension in her chest easing. "I'll keep that in mind."

As the two settled into an easy silence, Aspen tried to push the encounter from her mind. But no matter how hard she tried, the weight of Harry's coldness lingered, a small knot in her chest that refused to untangle. The girl did her best to focus on the show Isobel put on and tried her best to fill her hunger, knowing that she would be starving into the night if she didn't fill her faux appetite.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Zayn slid into the passenger seat of Harry's car with a casual ease, tossing the charger onto the dashboard with a soft thud. His sharp eyes immediately caught the tension radiating from Harry, who sat rigidly in the driver's seat, fingers clamped tightly around the steering wheel. Harry's jaw was set, the muscle ticking, and the faintest crease had formed between his brows.

"You're in a mood," Zayn remarked, his voice cutting through the silence. It wasn't an accusation—more of an observation, though his tone held a teasing edge.

Harry's eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, his grip on the wheel tightening just slightly. "I'm fine," he snapped, the words curt and clipped, though his clenched jaw betrayed the effort it took to keep them civil.

Zayn tilted his head, not convinced for a second. "Right. That's convincing," he quipped, leaning back against the seat and studying his friend with a knowing look.

Harry's head whipped to the side, his green eyes narrowing as they locked on Zayn. "Can we not do this right now?" His voice was sharper this time, the irritation clear. He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life, a sound that seemed to punctuate his growing frustration.

Zayn raised his hands in mock surrender, though his lips twitched with the faintest hint of amusement. "Alright, alright. No need to bite my head off, mate." He leaned his elbow against the window, watching Harry closely as the car pulled out onto the road.

For a moment, silence fell between them, save for the hum of the engine and the soft rhythm of tires against pavement. Zayn let it linger, his curiosity bubbling under the surface. Harry's bad moods weren't exactly rare, but this one felt... different.

"You know," Zayn started again, his tone more measured this time, "whatever's got you all twisted? You should probably deal with it before it gets worse."

Harry's knuckles whitened on the wheel, his lips pressing into a thin line as his jaw tensed further. His eyes stayed locked on the road ahead, refusing to meet Zayn's gaze.

"Jesus, Zayn," he snapped, his voice low but laced with irritation. "Can you drop it for five bloody minutes? Not everything needs to be a conversation."

Zayn arched a brow, but he didn't respond, deciding it was wiser to let Harry stew in his own frustration for a bit. Still, he couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth—he'd seen Harry like this before, though rarely. Whatever had him in such a foul mood had to be important.

Meanwhile, Harry's mind was a storm of thoughts, each one circling back to Aspen despite his best efforts to shove them away. He replayed the look on her face when he'd dismissed her, the flicker of hurt that she'd tried— unsuccessfully— to hide. It gnawed at him, a sharp pang of guilt he didn't want to acknowledge.

This was why he needed to keep his distance, he reminded himself. He couldn't afford to let anyone in, especially not someone like her. She was soft, kind, the sort of person who would inevitably get hurt if she got too close. And Harry didn't do close.

But Zayn's words lingered, threading through his thoughts like an unwelcome guest. You should probably deal with it before it gets worse.

Harry's grip tightened on the wheel again, and he let out a low, frustrated breath. "For the record," he muttered, his tone dark and curt, "there's nothing to deal with."

Zayn didn't respond immediately, but his silence carried a weight that felt almost like a challenge. Harry refused to meet his gaze, his eyes fixed stubbornly on the road as he tried— and failed— to shake the memory of Aspen's soft voice, her hesitant smile, and the way it had all crumbled under the weight of his coldness.

[daydreamwritting]

Hey, how are you? Did you drink water today? Go drink water! Alright not taking up too much time I hope! Can you do either Jasper Hale or Spencer Reid coming home to the reader having a nightmare and comforting them? Thank you for writing and posting!

This made me drink water so mission accomplished! This one took me a second but I’m really proud with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy!

“Pain.”

Those were the last words I heard before I felt like electricity was shooting through my entire body over and over again. Unfortunately, I don’t seem to have whatever Bella has to make her immune to some vampires gifts.

I looked over at Jasper, he was shouting something but I couldn’t hear anything as I tried to focus on anything but the pain. It felt so strong like something had ahold of me, as if it could pick me up off the ground like Darth Vader or something. Honestly, I’d take over this any day. Just as it felt like a string was wrapping around my heart and trying to squeeze till it bursts, I hit the hard tiled ground.

I wake with a gasp, my heart was racing so fast I’m not totally sure that I wasn’t having a heart attack. The room was dark, I couldn’t see anything. Was I dead? Is death just a dark empty space?

Before I could think about it any longer, light peeked into the room as the bedroom door opened. I felt a wave of calm overtake me as Jasper was at my side in an instant, pulling me close to him.

“Shhh. You’re alright, Darling.” He holds me as I slowly start to even out my breathing. “I’ll be right back okay?” Jasper said, looking at me concerned.

I don’t blame him, when the nightmares first started I refused to let him out of my sight for hours afterwards. I nodded my head and he was out of the room in a second. I turn on the bedside lamp and kicked the covers off of me. Jasper seemed to flash back into the room, only being gone for about 20 seconds or so. He had a glass of water and a wet wash cloth. I took the glass with a shaky hand and slowly sipped on it while Jasper wiped the sweat off my forehead and neck. The cold cloth felt good on my skin, like a fire being put out. He set the rag aside and walked across the room to open one of the windows, letting in the cool fresh air. I shivered slightly but welcomed the cold. Even during the summer, nights in Forks were overly chilly.

Jasper grabbed the now empty glass from my hand, putting it to the side as he joined me on the queen sized bed. “You know, I wouldn’t have gone through all the effort of putting a bed in here if I knew it was gonna cause you this much trouble.” He teased. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He always asks even though he knows the answer. “It’s the same as always, with the Volturi.” That day was nothing short of a disaster. It’s a miracle that we all walked out of that room.

“They should have never touched you.”

“Technically they didn’t.” I deadpanned. Jasper lightly pushed my face away from his.

“Don’t play smart with me missy. I should have taken out every single one of them the second they hurt you.” Jasper stared at me, with this look he gets every time he’s being serious.

“You would have lost.” I noted quietly, knowing he could hear me. There’s no way Edward, Alice, and Jasper could single handedly take down the most powerful vampires in the world and their guards.

Jasper chuckled and brought his cold hand up to caress my check, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. “Not when it comes to you.”

[orangeandclover]

OCKISS Week '25 Day 3

Day 3- Desperate staring Ash Thorne/Jasper Thorne the latter belongs to @marvelous-goose

“JASPER!” Ash rushes over barreling through the last of the darkspawn reaching where Jasper lay far too still. Pulling him into their arms scrambling for a potion; hoping, praying to a god they don’t believe in he’s okay. Placing the green potion to his lips tiling his head back and holding his throat open, “DRINK DAMN IT! I am not explaining to Emmy you died!” 

With a stuttering cough as the potion goes down & starts to take effect, Jasper’s eyes snap open looking around wildly as they grip at the straps of Ash's armor. Clinging to them like a lifeline. 

“Ash?” His eye finally focus on their face, and with a shaking hand he reaches out toward’s their face smudging the war paint, “Did we win?”

“Of course we did,” Ashe takes his face in their hands darkspawn blood still staining their armor, “I am going to kiss you now.”

“Okay- hmp-“ Ash crashes their lips against Jasper’s, the kiss is inelegant and sloppy with too much tongue and too much teeth chased by the bitter taste of the herbal potion and Jasper’s blood. But it doesn’t matter because Jasper is alive is breathing here in their arms. That relief takes over every thought, fuels them to kiss him again and again and again, pulling him tighter against their armor with each one as if they can bring him into its protection, keep him safe as long as they stay just like this. 

“Ash, can’t breathe” Jasper pats against their armored chest pushing back just a little but staying in their arms, staying safe.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Ash ducks their head down breathing in the salt, sweat and blood from Jasper’s hair. 

“Hey,” pulling gently at the little braid he put in for them today Jasper forces them to look at him, “I said I couldn’t breathe not that I didn’t like it.” With a soft tug pulls Ash back in. 

[flowerslut]

Instructions Unclear

Summary: It was just a simple twelve hours, and if they were lucky, Renesmee would be asleep for at least eight of them. (Wishful thinking.) All they had to do was get her to bed. (Easier said than done.) At least nothing too bad could happen inside the house. (Famous last words.)

Jasper and Alice babysit Renesmee.

Post-Breaking Dawn. Canon-compliant.

Title: Instructions Unclear Words: 9,901 Rating: T for language and mild sexual themes Read on: Ao3 // or read a snippet under the cut

A/N: Hey hi hello @burdenedwithpointlesspurpose! I was your secret gifter for this year's @twilight-secret-gift-exchange! Hope you enjoy this goofy little attempt at writing a slice-of-life one-shot; it's pretty fluff-adjacent, I think. Anyways, I just love to put these two loser in Situations. Happy New Year! ♡

It started and ended with a bath.

That had been their first instruction. Number one on the physical list that Rosalie had left for Alice and Jasper. A list that was pointless, since she’d already gone over everything verbally with the two of them. A list that Bella had laughed over, Edward had glared at, and Alice had hand-waved away. Jasper had eyed it hesitantly from where Rosalie had propped it up on the table, her elegant script comically large against the notepad, as if the bigger she wrote the harder it would be for Jasper or Alice to fuck this up.

“Maybe she should have written it bigger,” Alice replied to a comment he hadn’t yet verbalized, and when she inhaled to speak more, Jasper could feel her full body shudder from where she sat behind him. The sound of her gag was muffled, but now that the faucet was off, it was as loud as a scream in the noiseless bathroom. Jasper opened his mouth to speak, but the air was still home to the wretched stench and he quickly closed it, cutting off his sense of taste and smell simultaneously. The discomfort at ceasing his breathing was far easier to deal with than the horrific sensory nightmare that was offered alongside the alternative.

“You know,” Alice began in a tone that implied he was going to hate what she had to say, but she continued nevertheless, “Nessie did warn you.”

Jasper could see her in the reflection of the window and watched as she flipped through the ring of measuring spoons. The clacking of plastic punctuated her point, and the noise was suddenly intolerable to him.

“I’m not convinced she didn’t set me up,” he complained under his breath, fighting the urge to reach behind him and still Alice’s fidgeting. He wanted to say ‘you could have also warned me’ but knew that it was a moot point.

The clattering against tile from across the bathroom clued him into the fact that Alice had given up on proper measuring, and soon enough she was pouring the entire box of baking soda straight into the tub.

The water fizzed at his side, and he finally turned his head to look at her. Alice was dressed head-to-toe in clothes that didn’t quite fit which he knew she’d either trash or burn after this. And she was currently studying the side of a second box of baking soda. He had half a mind to reach out and pull her into the bath himself, but—

“If you so much as even try—” her words were suddenly scathing, and her annoyance stifled his passing amusement instead of encouraging it “—I will let you do this alone next time,” she snapped, glancing up long enough for him to see just how much she meant that threat.

Jasper scoffed and turned back around, and the stench of the room made his own annoyance more palpable in the atmosphere. He knew she wasn’t referring to this specific predicament, but instead to the situation as a whole. “Who says there’s going to be a ‘next time’?” A small voice called from down the stairs. “I do!”

Renesmee sounded remarkably pleased with herself, only expressing a mere glimpse of the delight Jasper could feel radiating from her, where she was seated in front of the television in the den. He could hear the paper rip as she tore into another handful of sugar packets and just knew he and Alice would have to get the vacuum out. Again. Instructions two, three, and four, ignored all at once. But, Jasper thought, as Alice finally popped the lid off of the dish soap and started depositing it onto his head with a heavy hand, at least they didn’t fail step one. Well. Not entirely.

—

Jasper had not wanted to babysit. Jasper had been content to leave the child-rearing to every other member of his family. Jasper had been confident that he would always be permanently placed dead-last in the unspoken ‘people who should be in charge of nurturing another life’ contest amongst them. Unfortunately, multiple colliding forces had crashed together—feeling very much like the set up for a disaster movie set mid-apocalypse—and quickly he’d found himself staring down the barrel of a gun that, he was loath to admit, unnerved him in a way that actual war never had.

But they had been two weeks into January, and two weeks from the traumatic events of the Volturi’s visit, when Emmett made a comment in passing that spiraled into the catastrophe that now awaited him.

“You really gotta spend more time with Nessie,” Emmett had remarked on the walk back from a hunt. “She’s growing like a weed and you and Alice were gone for most of December.” He’d vaulted himself over a few downed trees as he spoke, never once breaking stride. “If you want to bond with her, you gotta do it now, while she’s still little.”

It was meant to be friendly advice offered as a passing comment as part of a larger conversation. It had been kind, really, even if Jasper did think it was a bit silly. He could bond with Renesmee once everyone else got their fill—her ‘baby’ days would be over before the family knew it, and Jasper was well aware of the way most of his family had always craved the opportunity to…parent, in a way that Jasper never had.

It hadn’t been what Emmett had said, but who he’d said it in front of, that had triggered this entire mess.

Rosalie and Esme, who had been trailing behind the two of them, had unfortunately been within earshot when Emmett had started talking. And of course, at the mention of Renesmee, their attention had locked onto their conversation.

Jasper, who prayed that Alice would catch up soon, Carlisle in tow, had suddenly felt her absence very, very keenly.

He’d picked his response carefully. “I think we’ll be fine,” Jasper replied, being sure to vaguely include Alice in his response, since it hadn’t just been him who was gone for those few weeks.

Then Emmett had shot him a look—a mere precursor before divulging the worst information he could have delivered with their specific, attentive audience, a quarter-mile away—and frowned. “Dude, on Thursday she asked me if you hated kids.”

“She what?!” Rosalie’s echoed exclamation reached them the same time she did. “Why didn’t you tell me!” She’d demanded of Emmett, looking every bit as frazzled as Jasper could feel from her.

Emmett had the decency to look a little ashamed of himself as he witnessed Rosalie’s acute distress, but shrugged, as if that were an explanation in and of itself.

Before they’d made it home, but after Alice and Carlisle had caught up, a plan had been put forth into motion to correct this horrendous oversight; this terrible circumstance that bordered on emotional neglect. Esme and Carlisle had already been planning a weekend up to Denali—it seemed Garrett was still hanging around Kate, and there were apparently conversations they wanted to have with Tanya concerning Irina’s execution—so Rosalie declared that she and Emmett would also make themselves scarce for a handful of days. It helped that Edward and Bella had been so wrapped up in their ‘newlywed bliss’ that Renesmee was spending most of her time at the house anyways. Now, all they needed to do—or, all Alice needed to do—was force Edward and Bella out of town for a little while, so that Alice and Jasper could get some “proper bonding in,” as Rosalie called it, Esme nodding enthusiastically to this terrible idea while Carlisle had smiled approvingly.

—

One week later, Jasper gifted Emmett a kidney punch as a parting gift on his way out the door.

—

finish the story here, on Ao3!

[fuckmeyer]

timewarp!twilight: a time travel au

[throughout the series, Bella Swan has prophetic dreams that reveal her future (or present predicament) in cryptic ways. but tho Bella can peek forward in time, her true power lies in the past.]

time first unzips when James sinks his teeth into Bella at the ballet studio.

the burning in her veins overwhelms her. for a delirious moment she seizes from venom & bleeds out on a hospital room's tile floor where her mother is giving birth. to her.

the Cullens barge into the studio. Bella's writhing on the ground. they never see the warp. a stunned James is defeated.

Bella says nothing, chalking it up to a near-death experience. ofc she can't unravel the fabric of time lol like what?? who does that???

over summer, night terrors haunt her when Edward is away.

the "good" dreams give her flashes of the future. wolves. light. cliffs. a stone antechamber. red hair. a casket.

it's the nightmares she fears the most.

her PTSD-fueled flashbacks feel so real, she unzips time to escape James's attack & wakes up in random places as if sleepwalking.

at first they're tiny jumps. a few minutes back. then several months before she meets Edward. then the day Renee leaves Charlie with Bella in tow.

the night after her disastrous birthday party, her nightmare dumps her in the back alley of a neon-lit diner.

this isn't home. not 2006, not 1996, not 1986, even...

disoriented, she stumbles in and sits at the counter. the folded newspaper by the napkin dispenser, the Philadelphia Herald, reads March 3rd, 1950.

oh god.

when she looks up, a familiar pixie-haired vampire stares back at her with moony gold eyes.

"you've kept me waiting a long time," says Alice, pushing a plate of pancakes toward her.

time zips. back in bed. morning. 2006. Bella scrambles to school to tell Edward about the time skips.

ofc, it's hard to speak when you're being sucker-punched in the gut by your first love's painful breakup monologue.

instead of confessing, Bella says goodbye.

October. November. December. January.

as the wolves shift and Laurent stops in for a visit snack, Forks gets all gunked up with paranormal vibes. Bella warps further back for longer periods. 1935. 1933. 1911. 1863.

luckily, she often crosses paths with the Cullens. as humans, she knows, they won't remember her. it's cathartic to see them, if only for a few moments...but it's never enough.

she pulls increasingly dangerous stunts to keep traveling. motorcycling. chasing wolves. stalking vampires. on & on.

Bella dives off a cliff to chase the visions.

she smacks the water & warps to 1918.

human Edward Masen immediately falls in love with a drenched & shivering Bella Swan. over the evening, she falls in love with him. again. ugh.

but was it a time skip, or a near-death experience? she wakes up coughing water, Jake breathing life into her on the beach.

Alice returns. with a renewed love for Edward (ugh), Bella jets off to Italy to save him & meet the Volturi.

back in forks, the vote ignites a fiery rage she'd buried for months.

how could they do this to her? how could they break her heart & leave her behind when she needed them?? did they even stop to think about Laurent??? the wolves?! VICTORIA?!!

just as she lunges for Edward to rip his stupid face off, time unzips in front of them & she vanishes.

further back than she's ever gone.

London. 1640s.

human Carlisle tries using a silver cross to defend himself against a starving vampire while Bella looks on.

when the vampire's eyes find hers, the horror of what Bella has been doing settles in like a dense fog.

with each time skip, Bella seals their fate.

not only is Bella the thread that ties the Cullens together in time, but Bella aligns the stars for every member to become a vampire.

in the 1640s, she is the scent that pulls the starving vampire away from Carlisle.

in 1863, María sees Bella's warp & pursues her until she finds confederate Jasper Hale on his way to Galveston.

in 1911, her time skip startles 16 y.o. Esme out of a tree, breaking the girl's leg. she is treated by Dr. Cullen.

in 1918, a cold & wet Bella gives Edward the flu.

in 1933, Carlisle spots Bella on his way home from the hospital & finds her so eerily familiar he calls out & rushes to catch up. frightened by the commotion, Royce et al leave a dying Rosalie in the street.

in 1935, warping into a forest pisses off a huge black bear. Emmett saves her & subsequently gets mauled.

in 1950, she listens to Alice tell the story of her only human memory: prophesizing as a little girl about the "lady in the blue jeans" who comes to visit, to the horror & disgust of her superstitious parents. they throw her in an insane asylum.

now, in 2006, she reappears & falls at the Cullens' feet. her face reflects their looks of shock.

it was her. it was always her.

& all because she ditched Alice & Jasper to confront James at the ballet studio.

"oh god," she whispers from the floor in a broken voice. tears blur her vision. Bella looks up at the family of vampires. "i think i've made a terrible mistake."

[rachaelmayo]

This is "Dragons of Every Dawn: Rat".

I colored up the central rat-dragon a couple of years ago, but finally figured out how I wanted to finish it this week. It took some effort - it felt like the materials were fighting me most of the way. …Okay, it was the glue that was my biggest problem. The black and purple rays are made of papers that are matte or silky-surfaced, and the glue is shiny. If the glue squishes out onto the paper, there are shiny spots that look gross. So I had to deal with those, and then deal with the mess that made (brush textures in the gloss medium), and then deal with the spit bubbles made when I tried applying more gloss medium with a sponge (seriously, it looked like spit bubbles. Gross again!), and then I added some iridescent acrylic paint which totally altered the look of the project and I couldn't have that. So I repainted the black rays with black acrylic, and went over the purple rays with some copper-colored gel pen. Finally, finally, it's acceptable. But wow, what an interesting experiment!

The dragon was made with Prismacolor pencils and gold paint pen over a ink drawing and a watercolor underpainting. Then I partly cut out the dragon such that I preserved some of the nice watercolor texture.

As always, there are all kinds of interesting 3D embellishments:

Upper left corner: metal beads, black agate, and rainbow moonstone surround a chunk from a bracelet. The black bead-looking ray is dyed agate. The pinkish bead-looking ray is rhodonite. In the upper right corner is a nice bit of "porcelain" jasper. Near the dragon's chest is an amethyst. Along the bottom is a sequence of black-dyed agate, amethyst, and rose quartz. Along the outer right edge is a sequence of amethyst, rhodonite, and gold metal bracelet bits. The rest of the froo-froo are metal beads, fancy swirly stickers, a papercut flower shape, acrylic mosaic tiles, and acrylic gemstones.

[silentiaray]

Meet beautiful characters of one of the most talented artists of my community - Mussy_Zefirchik!

Masterpost

Lycoris / Cory A judge, who knows all laws by heart. Studied law prior to the catastrophe and is quite successful in his field on the Moon. Quartz's deputy. In his work he is cold-blooded and unemotional, he's all after justice and honesty, and exceptionally complicated cases attract him the most. Is good at psychology. He's often found at his desk with some paperwork or discussing with his colleagues. In his free time Lycoris prefers to read or to pursue his hobby - butterflies. This harsh at first glance judge has a passion for studying alates, he also has a small collection at home. His high level allows him to modify his wings from time to time, to mimic his favorite specimens. In communication he's calm, keeps eye contact and often straightforward, but tactful. If you're close enough - Lycoris won't mind smiling and discussing something fleeting and close to his heart.

Yukki One of the olds who survived the disaster. Kind, sometimes cunning and doesn’t mind helping with advice. The character of a ringtail often manifests itself in slight carelessness, but he is accustomed to approach his work meticulously. At the fourth level, he lost his mentor, but survived, taking refuge in the remote corners of the Glass Desert - the place of his birth. Remembering the landscapes of the Desert and the tall glass columns, he decided that he would become a glazier. Using moon sand as a material, Yukki created various glass items, wanting to lighten the mood of those around him with bright colors. For a long time it was just a game, but closer to the ninth level it became a profession. Now he creates glass for window frames and showcases, tiles, stained glass and many other products, helping in architecture. The hobby is not far from the business - Yukki often makes vases and small glass decorations, which he is always ready to give to those who wish. He has a ward named Maple. At first, the newly made mentor had a burning desire to pass on his skills “from hand to hand,” but their desires in choosing a profession diverged. Despite this, he is not angry. On the contrary, he is proud and glad of the independent choice of his ward.

Maple The owner of a small tea house called "Warmth". Despite the rather “noisy” composition, she has a calm and extremely friendly character. She always wanted to create a cozy nook where slimes can relax after a hard day or just have a peaceful conversation with each other. Some slimes say that they simply can't imagine her without a cup of strong brewed tea in her paw. The unusual look of her horns is her own unique fire mutation.

Pumpkin / Pum Since childhood, he was very curious and often hot-tempered. Because of his mentor’s hobby, he liked books and often asked to read them, even if they contained scary stories or abstruse phrases. Gradually this grew into an incredible rush to learn as much as possible. He can be called well-read, but this fact did not bring him much benefit. Pumpkin wanted to try himself in many things, to find something special and pleasant, but found it hard to decide what he really wanted to work with. Now Pum only helps his mentor on the night shift in the tea house, snacking on various sweets and talking with visitors. His relationships with others are very soft. He loves to listen and share rumors, and occasionally scares kids if they make too much noise. He treats Maple like an “auntie” and is a little jealous of her unusual horns.

Jasper Yukki's second ward. Extremely joyful kid, who likes to explore everything around him, especially his master's workshop. Loves to interact with slimes a bit older than him, because they know and can tell more. Already interested in joining community, making friends indiscriminately. You've definitely seen this bun at least once a day! Growing up he didn't receive any Fire or Boom plorts, because Yukki didn't want to repeat his previous mistake, so he let his ward pick his own path. But it seems those worries were in vain, Jasper questions his mentor non-stop about his workshop and glassware in general; frequently helps with little things in the workshop. It's not very hard to guess which plort he wants to get next.

[surelysilly]

i honestly really love using 2nd POV, but it's so rare it actually works for me... something about it just scratches that itch of depersonalization and derealization, honestly

Around you, the stationary room of yesterday is no more. Gone are the table and lounging chair, wide canopy bed and boring wall decorations. In its place are amorphous and glittering clouds of star dust and plasma, distant twinkling red stars, and polished mosaic tiled stairways jut in every direction. It's still settling, still coming to form, what it always should have been. You float idly in drifting wisps of vapor, and close your eyes briefly, comforted. It doesn’t, however, take long for him to find you. The steps guide him toward you, all roads leading home, and a thin stone bridge builds itself beneath your feet — star shaped light filters through its carved lattice design. "Danny?" You sink to the new ground, boots catching on the grooves, and turn to regard Jasper — affection-worry-fear-fear-fear — with lidded, green eyes, and say despondently, "Danny isn't here right now."