#rust and ruin tag game

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

So does that mean you going to do the body swap request?

It did not as i did not want to put Jack on my blog (he's on my ao3 though cuz tagging is better there) but here we are SHRUG

Rated Mature | Warnings: It's Jack tbh thts the whole warning

To damage this skin without the proper tools is like ruining a high-quality canvas with watercolor paint for children, no matter how much being in your body is setting him off. The mirror in your room would have been nearly shattered if the hunter had controlled himself. Dressing you did not feel anything similar to undressing you.

“That bad?” If he looks towards the direction of his voice but your words, he might try to get you to stab him. Jack cannot do so as you would not harm your body but also you have no experience or skill in the tools of his artful craft.

“Maybe the Baron might laugh himself to death with the mess this is causing.” You are sitting on a seat with one leg over the other, the mask off exposing his face. Older, handsome; you said you might have found him appealing if you knew nothing about him.

How cute given he knows you find him handsome now and hate it; ah, the limitations of a moral compass.

“Nothing to say? That's a first.” You say with a dry chuckle as you know why he is quiet, he literally is hiding in the bedsheets of his bed refusing to see himself in your body. “Your body is weird. Being this tall, large hands, not to mention your fucking tongue.” You are trying to fill the uncomfortable silence he wants so badly, you normally would but you are having your own issues being in his body.

The Ripper, you are possessing the body of an infamous murderer… This body, these hands have killed countless women in Whitechapel. You hate him, disgusted by him, yet these games have caused two very unlikely people to have… You are not going to call having conflicted sex with him a bonding experience. It only pisses you off more.

Additionally, the Baron seems to love the dynamic you both have to the point of causing unwanted situations like this to see what will happen.

“You should also consider cleaning your claws. These are rusted.”

Nothing.

“Your clothing tastes suck too.”

Still nothing.

“I'm going to the bathroom to jerk you off.”

He glares at you from his bed and under the blankets, a sneer of annoyance.

“Whatever.” Crossing your arms carefully, “Old bastard.”

Hours passed, and Jack nearly started scratching your skin so you did in fact jerk off as him in the bathroom because you hate him. Luckily, the effects wore off before Jack's next match. Unlucky for you, he took it upon himself to return the favor for him.

[optiwashere]

I became completely unhinged because of the full version of this art by @forestborg so I had to write about it. It cooked my brain.

This is smutty, smutty smut, but it's also a light exploration of drow trans women as well. Drow culture has always been one of my favorite things about the Forgotten Realms ever since I was a lil DM running my fucked up version of 3E. Combine that with my constant need to trans all the ladies? Yeah.

Really though... this fic is super explicit. I'm adding this to my Kinktober series because I selfishly want that series to say 31/31 some day and this fic definitely belongs.

Rating: E for Exquisite frottage

Category: F/F

Ship: Minthara/Karlach

Tags and AO3 Summary under the break.

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Trans Female Character, Trans Karlach, Trans Minthara, Light Dom/sub, Frottage, Come as Lube, Tail Sex, Size Difference, Choking, Breathplay, Drow-typical Gender Hierarchy, Gender Identity, mentions of Minthara/Lae'zel, Inspired by Fanart

Summary:

A vision on the battlefield. A heart warm enough to beat a thousand times too strong for its own good. An axe with a sharp edge, though its haft is unkempt and left to rust. These are the ways Minthara knows Karlach. There is one other way she desires to know her. Or: Minthara and Karlach spend an evening in a tent together.

[wjbminecraft]

*bangs head on desk* Minecraft fishing/ocean update/mod concept again like what I did here but more in-depth (pun not intended) because I got up at like 3am and it's like 4 when I'm writing this title thing and I have nothing to do for several hours.

Anyone who makes "lol Mojang are too lazy to implement this stuff" comments will be thrown into The Machine™ for a week and forced to watch a video about the reality of multiplatform game development. Also like this is a pure hypothetical and more of a "what I would do if I still made Minecraft mods and could do something this ambitious.

The basics:

Cooked fish are now called Smoked [type of fish].

Some fish species can only be caught based on what biome you're in.

There are new aquatic mobs that can't be caught, but some can drop items that can be eaten. This includes Squid, which have a chance of dropping Squid Rings or a Raw Tentacle.

The ocean is now stratified, and also a lot deeper than it already is. It's separated into the Surface (basically just how Minecraft's oceans currently are, complete with more biome diversity), Abyss (much darker and filled with bioluminescent mobs, as well as only containing one biome), and the Darkest Depths (rarely generates and is extremely deep; contains a new boss and lots of hostile aquatic mobs).

Iron now rusts (over four stages, similar to Copper oxidising but a lot slower) if submerged for long periods of time; Rusted Iron is easier to break, but otherwise the same. Iron Golems can also rust, which makes them slower, weaker and less durable. Rust can be removed by using a Brush.

There is now a designated "ocean" village type, which uses wooden walkways (similar to how regular villages look when they generate on water), and has buildings made out of modified boats. The Villager textures look somewhat piratey, with eyepatches and stripey bandannas and stuff. There are also aquatic Illagers that use a more cetacean-like Ravager variety, live in towers that are connected to the seafloor by an underwater mountain. Also there's a new Illager variety, the Drillager (which wears a bulky diving suit with a giant drill attached, which it uses to break through blocks and to charge at its targets yes, this is a Bioshock reference).

Fishing has been slightly overhauled; while you still just stick your rod in the water and wait, there's now a Fishing Table that can be used to change what bait you're using, which increase the chances of finding rarer biome-restricted fish (more on that further down), as well as a "salvage hook" item that vastly decreases the chance of catching a fish, but increases the chance of finding treasure like Saddles, Name Tags and Nautilus Shells.

There are now Diving Helmets, which offer almost no protection (being a glass bubble-helmet) and require 8 Glass Panes to craft, but allow the wearer to stay underwater forever. If they're crafted with Stained Glass, then the player's view will be tinted the appropriate colour.

More in-depth stuff:

Sharks exist now; they're based specifically on the mostly-harmless Nurse Shark, and - being based on an endangered species - drop no items on death. They also attack small fish mobs.

Underground lakes now contain Cavefish (not based on any specific species), which are blind and swim away from (most) noises, effectively working like a sneaky "tutorial" for the Deep Dark's mechanics.

The Darkest Depths contain the ruins of an unknown civilisation, and are protected by the Ancient Guardian, based on the boss of the same name from Minecraft Dungeons (but without the shard in the top of its head). Also a variant of the Biomine spawns near Ocean Monuments.

Skeleton Sharks spawn in all ocean biomes at night; they're hostile, and move relatively fast. When on land, they don't drown, but being undead mobs they do eventually burn in sunlight. They can also spawn being ridden by baby Drowned.

There are three new types of Coral: Elegance, which is cyan and glows; Pillar, which is green and has Log/Pillar/Basalt-style rotation; and Maze, which is orange and can form Chorus Plant-like "trees" that are topped with blocks of other Coral varieties.

Biome-specific mobs (note that there would probably be more but these are just the ones I could come up with)

Icy biomes contain Seals (neutral to players, but hostile to fish; drop nothing on death have a unique baby design), Snailfish (basic ambient fish), and a new mob called the Iceshell (hostile; a creature resembling a giant Portugese Man O' War, with the "sail" being a giant chunk of ice, and the tendrils replaced by several dangling crustacean-like limbs).

Swamps contain Piranhas (hostile to any mob with 25% health or less remaining) and Electric Eels (electrify the water in a 3x3 area around them when attacked).

Beaches contain Giant Crabs (passive; can be tamed with Seagrass or raw fish, and ridden as a semiaquatic mount yes this is a Bionicle reference; their colours vary depending on the specific Beach subtype, with regular Beaches having red crabs, Stony Shores having blue, and Snowy Beaches having white).

Warm Oceans contain Frogfish (passive; come in eight colours that match up with the five vanilla Coral varieties and the new ones. They don't swim, instead walking on the seafloor; when standing on the Coral variety that corresponds with their texture, they turn invisible), Sea Slugs (passive; inflict Poison on contact) and Eels (neutral; spawn at night and attack smaller fish).

In the Nether, there are now Firefish (passive; instead of being cooked, the player has to right click on a water-filled cauldron while holding one in order to make it safe to eat), Basalt Floats (passive, but dangerous; function like floating platforms the player can stand on to get across lava, but can descend unexpectedly), and Magmateeth (hostile; giant lava-sharks that can set the player on fire just by biting them).

Abyss mobs include Anglerfish (passive), Octopi (neutral; much larger than Squid), Glowmouths (hostile; pale, shark-like creatures with no eyes and glowing mouths), Comb Jellies (passive; deal damage on contact) and Giant Isopods (passive; run away from the player).

There is probably more I could write but I have very few ideas.

[cat-esper]

I thought I'd redo my intro post and this time make it ✨pretty✨

I'm Cat [she/her | aroace] and I write sci-fi and fantasy with a dose of cosmic horror. I love mixing genres and general experimentation. Whether my work is marketable or not is less important than having fun. My absolute favorite things are found family, robots, and time travel, and I am a firm believer that platonic relationships can be just as fierce and important as romantic ones. Most of my novels are set within a shared universe I call the Starfish Saga and that's my main focus, though I do have quite a few exciting projects outside that.

I am quite shy but love making new writer friends and am open to tag games and ask games and other sorts of writerly socialization.

I have...a lot of projects. A worrying amount I try not to think about. But! Below the cut, you'll find the ones I'm focusing on for the time being, now with new and improved titles.

Books of the Starfish Saga

The Last Paladin | YA science fantasy | 12 part series

When Chelsea Seaver's parents are abducted by aliens, she embarks on a grand adventure across the galaxy--making friends and learning magic on the way--to bring them home.

Status: books 1-3 drafted

Intro | WIP tag

Incantations of the Mad Mage | YA epic fantasy | 6 part series

In order to honor her dead mentor, battle mage Arna Vaughn races against the Sforia Empire to locate six legendary magic spells that have the power to end a bloody war; whoever finds them first will change the course of their world forever.

Status: books 1-4 drafted, editing book 2, outlining book 5

Intro | WIP tag

Records of the Spiral | YA portal fantasy | 4 part series

Three misfits stumble into a surreal world inhabited by strange creatures and watched over by the eldritch Enochians; it's a place they belong to more than Earth and if they don't want to see it destroyed, they'll need to stop the very beings who created it in the first place.

Status: drafting book 1

Intro | WIP tag

Music of the Spheres | YA science fantasy | standalone

Shay Finnegan leaves everything behind when he decides to become a light-wielding Paladin, a protector of the galaxy, in order to find a higher purpose and avoid the fate that haunts him with the words you will bring everything to ruin.

Status: rewriting for the millionth time

Intro | WIP tag

Red Ghost | YA contemporary fantasy | novella

Mel Black joins a ghost-killing organization in order to free the spirit of her dead friend from a fate worse than death, but saving him might just mean the end of humanity.

Status: pending edits

Intro | WIP tag

Nightland Nexus | epic fantasy | 5 part series

As tensions rise across the worlds, a group of characters seek to satisfy their own ambitions, but they'll need to team up and unite the worlds to prevent a long-dormant Darkness from awakening.

Status: world-building

Intro | WIP tag

Sundial Fates | YA sci-fi western | 10 part series

A time machine crashes on the edge of town, launching three reluctant teens into the biggest adventure of their lives. They may be able to face down alien invaders, mad scientists, and unfathomable entities, but can they face the truth about themselves?

Status: overhauling the plot/updating the lore

Intro | WIP tag

Other Projects

The Zodiac Circuit | post-apocalyptic sci-fi | duology

Rhys Valencya reluctantly teams up with an android in order to stop her own family from resurrecting the lich that almost wiped out humanity centuries ago.

Status: drafting book 1

Intro | WIP tag

Androids Don't Rust | time travel | standalone

With human extinction inevitable, four androids are sent into the past to retrieve data for the Archive that will outlast humanity.

Status: very early planning stages

Intro | WIP tag

Robbery on the Hell Express | weird western | novella

Occasional partners and oftentimes enemies, Harlan Nye and John Callahan team up to rob a ghost train--betrayal, deadly wraiths, and a lethal race against the clock mean they may not make it out of this alive.

Status: planning

Intro | WIP tag

The Chronicles of Josephine Mercer | dark pirate fantasy | ongoing series

In a darker version of the 18th century Caribbean, mutineer and newly self-appointed Captain Josephine Mercer escaped the navy with a ship and ambitions that would see her become the bane of the British Empire.

Status: research/world-building

Intro | WIP tag

Liminal Spaces | urban fantasy | 5 part series

Caffeine fueled video game artist, Ref Sanderson, comes home one day to find his daughter is missing. Turns out, she's been making new realities in her free time. Now she's trapped in one and he'll need to learn how to enter and fabricate realities himself in order to save her.

Status: outlining book 2

WIP intro coming soon

Other Starfish WIPs I'm technically working on, in the background, that I probably won't talk about unless someone wants me to:

The Siege of Coracaltone: a space opera about cinnamon roll wizard Flynn on a quest but gets sidetracked by space pirates (waiting for a rewrite)

Pirates vs Dinosaurs: cosmic horror about, you guessed it, pirates and dinosaurs and the slow dissolving of their sanity (drafted and just waiting for editing time)

Dreams of the Spiral: a prelude to Records of the Spiral about the band Red Tape Rocket and the summer things got really weird (still being planned)

If any of them pique your interest and you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!

[ilysmsamncolby]

#SAMGOLBACH ::

raccoon!sam golbach !!! basically if sam was a raccoon hybrid idk I'm crazy

—

PART 1 ::

Samuel was an innocent human born into a normal family in a small town. His was like any other little boys until one day, everything changed. Around the age of 5 his father had gotten into some trouble with the wrong people. And he a debt to pay, and of course none of Sams family had enough funds for something like that. They demanded millions of dollars which of course would be impossible. So instead, these dangerous and troublesome strangers planned and kidnapped Samuel instead. They needed a test subject for their illegally bought chemicals and drugs anyway. He was kidnapped on a normal wednesday in the middle of the night, nobody noticed his disappearance until the next day but there was no sign or trace of him or those strangers to be left behind. Sam was a lost cause and his life would be changed forever over a stupid mistake caused by his ignorant father.

When they had finally returned to their secret underground lab made under a normal estate house, they threw Sam into a rusted and dirty cage like some stray animal. They screamed at him to stay quiet and that they'd feed him later. Sam had to obey, he had no choice. He was only a little boy, he had no chance against multiple grown men.

It wasn't long until they started experimenting on Sam. The poor boy went through torture. It was so bad that you couldn't even call these men human anymore. They were tortuous monsters for harming and abusing an innocent little boy. Sam had taken so many drugs, mysterious drinks and foods and had been thrown in many machines which only caused pain. One of these drinks was called "Raccoon Summoner" and of course, they tested it on the small blonde boy. And as the name suggests, a raccoon was summoned. But not in a way you'd expect. Sam *had* and *was* the raccoon. Well, he was half human and half raccoon. They loved the results so they decided to keep Sam forever and practically use him as some pet. They kept him for years and years,until he had finally turned into a teenager. Samuel had forgotten he even had a family, he only remembers his pain and suffering. He had no life but this. His future was ruined forever.. or so his brain thought. On Sam's 15th birthday, he had finally escaped. It was a miracle on how it happened. These men had gotten way too high to the point they had no idea what or where they even were. The idiots let their test experiment free without even knowing it and of course, Sam used this to his advantage. He had escaped their lair of evil and ran out of their poorly taken of house. The blonde boy ran so far he didn't even know where he was. But all he knew was that he was free. He didn't have any game plan yet, but he knew he'd find one eventually.

A/N :: CLIFF HANGER !! I hope yall enjoy this and this is only part 1!! their are more to come :P

—

TAGS ::

[burningmuses]

RUINS

because isn’t there a beauty in ruins? isn’t that why people came all the way to rome, to stare at the crumbling pillars melting into ivy, letting that living vine lift where stones could not? isn’t there something breath-taking about a burial ground, filled with moss-covered headstones you dig your nails into, pulling away with palms full of green and rust and the shadow of a ghost? because ruins are like a wounded mother, bleeding but still fighting, teeth bared. because ruins mean someone, ages ago, isn’t forgotten. here is where she walked, here is where she ran. here is where she laid under the sky and let herself feel small, feel infinitely unknown beneath a sky full of things she couldn’t name. because i am a ruin—did you see the marble of my throat, where he chipped away at it? did you see the vines that are crawling across my chest? it’s been so long since something touched my heart. did you see the cobwebs in the corners of my eyes? i’ve kept them shut for so long.

give me a reason to open them.

–by @falteringperceptions

***Kevin’s Note: This was from 2013 and from when I was a BLUE TAG POETRY EDITOR here on tumblr. Yes, there used to be editors here on tumblr that were "supposed" to sift through mountains of poetry and "TAG" them for others to read without having to search. This was also when I started the Recognizing The Voiceless (RTV) reblog blog and was deep-diving into the lesser known poetry of the day. Back then it was before Yahoo! bought tumblr and added all the BS ads you see now. There were many more writers and poets here and created the Tumblr Writing Community (TWC). It would take me hours to TAG the ten best poems IMHO…we only were allowed 10 tags and there were only ten of us I believe. All this is to say…the above piece is STUNNING to me…it was back then, and it still is today! There are stunning pieces on tumblr today, but there were sooooo many more back in the day. Doesn’t have anything to do with you poets, it’s just a numbers game really. More writers to read and more time to read them. I LOVE you all…mean it!***

[deathbind]

Further information on these verses can be found by reading the verse profile (linked in the verse's name), checking out the important hcs posts, or poking through the appropriate tag. Questions are always welcome as well! All verses open to anyone interested.

PRIMARY VERSES.

VERSE / COME WINDS OF FATE AND TIME. Generalized DND.

(Locations and years are intentionally left vague to allow for flexibility.) Serot has been reborn on the continent of Faerûn. His memory is fractured, his skills gone to rust. He can only think to make his way to Meket and hope he finds his memories along the way. He uses his affinity for necromancy to pay his way, often acting as a spirit medium or dealing with restless undead. He's always glad to make new acquaintances and would happily travel with someone going the same way.

ARC | TAKE MY TEARFUL MEMORIES. For interactions taking place before Serot has recovered his memories. He will soon uncover a bond from the past that threatens to consume him. ARC | BUT ONLY ECHOES FADE AWAY. For interactions taking place after Serot has recovered his memories but has not yet made it to Meket. He knows he walks a path to ruin, yet he cannot turn aside. ARC | BURNING AWAY HOLLOW HOPE. For interactions taking place after Serot has returned to Meket. He finds himself vaulted into disaster they say he can resolve. If he isn't careful, he'll bring on their heads a fate worse than they can imagine.

VERSE / PRAY FOR GOD WHERE ANGELS HAVE GONE. Baldur's Gate 3.

Serot was reborn in Baldur's Gate about a year and a half before the game's start. It was there he was abducted onto the nautiloid and infected. He seeks a remedy to his affliction but finds his memories first. They reveal a connection that has threatened to claim his soul across centuries. Still, he cannot bring himself to sever it. If he is not dissuaded, he will save himself from ceremophosis only to be lost to a worse fate.

VERSE / COME DUSK THE PAST WILL FLEE. Generalized DND + Baldur's Gate 3.

A catch-all verse for any of Serot's past lifetimes. Bios for these will be linked on his biography / character sheet page when written up. If one of those works better, anyone is welcome to request them.

ALTERNATE + CROSSOVER VERSES.

VERSE / CRUEL BLADES AND TEARS IN SORROWFUL DAYS. Dragon Age.

Serot is the father of Nevarra's death rites, the necromancer who laid the foundation for the Mortalitasi to come. His soul has been recalled again and again to keep the mysteries and guide future generations. When their rites have been repressed, he has held them in wait for resurrection: the Saint Eternal, the Guardian Against Plague. There are few Nevarrans venerate more. He is resurrected in the Dragon Age and has involvement in all the games.

[shinigamimailjeevas]

For the WIP tag game, all your WIPs look amazing but 1, 5, 8 and 16 have me intrigued 👀

1: A Million On My Soul– so I first started noting this April 2022 and it has 27 pages of notes/half written scenes. But it keeps getting put on the back-burner for other projects.

Eyes parted into slivers, unblinking, unmoving—lifeless. “Liam?” he tries to scrape the blood and wolfsbane from Liam's face, only managing to streak purple dust down his cheek and across his lips instead. “Liam?” He listens for the heart that had become as familiar a tune as the one that rested in his own chest; one that he had fallen asleep to for many nights only to hear silence.

“Liam!” Shaking the beta sharply, his lips curl into a facsimile of a snarl, all teeth and trembling lips. Tears form and fall as he pulls Liam into his arms, Theo hiding his face in the ruin of that stupid Beacon Hills hoodie. The one with a hole in the sleeve that constantly caught on any edge encountered and had more bleach spots than maroon color anymore. Deaton finds him minutes, perhaps even hours later. He'd heard the former emissaries footsteps long before he spoke.

“You know it is not safe to still be here.” The chimera lifts his head to look at the haggard man, face sticky with more than tears. The war had touched them all in different yet equally draining way.

“Nowhere is safe anymore.” The unspoken 'I will not leave him' hangs between them. The last light disappears with the sun as it dips below the horizon bringing shadows forth to cover part of Deaton's face. He sighs. “I really did not want to do this.”

Theo feels the jab before even noticing Deaton's hand move. As his eyes slip closed and he falls forward, the last thing he sees is the apologetic expression.

5: Learning Your Worth (Argent sells Theo) – so this oneeeeee. The basic premise is that Argent agrees to hand Theo over to another pack in exchange for information on Monroe, including hideout locations, her supporters etc. The notes are split between three documents but I have not sat down to write it out yet. It's also meant to be Thiam (with a twist pairing in the tiny sequel, entirely my beta MelMat's fault.

Alvarez—as Theo has been calling him since he refuses to call him Alpha, or any name that gives him power—paces the length of the room, hand resting on his left hip, gait throwing to the same side as the weight of his single arm messes with his balance. "I am so tired of you special bloodline folk. Or the ones who are handed abilities on a silver platter. You know nothing of what true struggle is." His red eyed gaze snaps between his beta—a rust colored shifter who Theo has never seen outside of her wolf form, who is always at Alphas heel—and Theo, who despite the continuous need to heal, is bright eyed and as smart mouthed as ever.

"I've heard of you 'chimeras'. Spliced together genetically, held together by means most have no hope of understanding." Alvarez stops, suddenly, his entire being locking up, still. So very still. Theo grinds his teeth against the spike in his instincts, the one that pleads he flee from the threat. Alvarez turns toward him, slow with movements jerking like a broken marionette; his lips are pulled back into a monstrous grin, wide, feral. "I am not most," he motions to the stump of his missing arm, flesh a gnarled white with groovespetering the end—claw marks, Theo realizes when he focuses on it, "your secrets will be uncovered. With it. The return of what is mine."

8: Asher/Liam- :) yeah. I really couldn't help myself here. Started off as a smutty oneshot idea and then kinda kept growing. A lot of the notes are not typed up yet though. But here is the opener:

Liam meets Asher at a club. At first he confuses him with the missing Chimera, but after taking an open mouthed breath—while stalking over, trying to conceal glowing eyes and lengthening teeth—he notices the lack of the soap Theo uses. This person's scent is all wrong. The look-alike smells sweeter. Like ripe pears and summer sun, whereas Theo is earthy, like really good potting soil and pine. The guy arches a brow, smiling easy and confident as Liam stops short, realizing his error but still confused because, hello, he looks almost exactly like Theo.

“Can I help you?”

Liam shakes his head.

“Sorry, You just really look like someone I know.” He smiles awkwardly back and wishes he were still across the room so he could observe not-Theo a little longer.

“Is this ‘someone’ you like to have fun with?” Not-Theo asks and Liam can smell his curiosity…and arousal as he eye-checks him. It makes him blush, but he manages not to stutter as he usually does in these situations. “Ah, no. Not like that.”

Not-Theo’s expression falls the tiniest bit in disappointment. Liam licks his lips nervously. He shifts his weight foot-to-foot and his heart starts to beat fast. He is curious. Feels kind of bold too, for once. “But maybe you could be that kind of fun.”

And not-Theo’s expression turns into a wide smile, carefree and interested. Charming, in a different way than Theo, and sincere. “Well then, shall we get the hell out of here?”

16: Beast Flesh (Scott ruins Liam) – This is pretty much smut. With an amusing ending.

"Don't give me that look," he glares down at the alpha, knowing that if Scott really tried he could overpower him unless it was a Supermoon. "You are always telling me to control myself. To keep my emotions in check. Keep the wolf in check." Clawed hands press harder against Scott's shoulders but do not dig in. "Your problem is you never let go so you can't actually help me." Liam leans in with eyes blazing gold. "Let go. For tonight, let go." Scott freezes. He doesn't even breathe.

"You don't know what you're asking." His body remains stiff under Liam, as if moving means he will give in. Liam realizes he wants that more than anything. "I want you, Scott." lips a breath from touching, Liam whispers his next words. "To. Let. Go." He kisses him and for a terrifying moment he fears he's majorly messed up, until Scott's eyes bleed a deep satisfying red. Liam has no time for a reply as his arms are pushed to the side and a clawed grip holds them tight as he is swung underneath the alpha. Scott grinds their hips together, nosing at his neck, scenting him as Liam lets out a shuddering gasp. Parting his legs, Scott falls into the welcoming space, "Liam".

His name, said like that, tightens something in the betas chest. He needs more.

[thornstocutyouwith]

name : Karma

pronouns : Wouldn't you like to know.

preference of communication : Usually Discord or Tumblr, I don't do social media outside of that.

most active muse : Look, my most active muses are going to be whatever one you're engaging with. My energy will almost always match the others, if we keep things going and storied.

experience / how many years : Probably around a decade? I started pretty young on my adventures lol. Went from swinging rusted pipes outside my house and pretending they were staffs, to playing video games and aspiring in writing. pfft.

best experience : Uuuh, just roleplaying in general has been pretty great, even with the people who wanted to harsh my fucking mellow for their own selfish shit. Not my friend, not my problem. I'm still here, because of the love of writing, and making friends, everything else just noise that will eventually fuck off.

rp pet peeves : All the liars, isolators, abusers, being fostered in the community because people confusing being 'sweet' with being nice, too often, and then not saying shit when something wrong really happens, like all the harassment and bullying that goes on in these communities. It ain't the harassers fault, as much as it's ours for failing to be responsible and brave enough to tell these people to fuck off more often. Instead they ruin our community and we sit by and watch as they shit on it with their arbiter behavior. And it's never going to end because half the time when people do stand up to these losers, no one has their backs. Because they are too scared to stand up for themselves, let alone others. Then we have as a group chosen to isolate from others and ask why we aren't getting attention. You ain't shy, you're just avoidant and want everyone else to do shit for you, instead.... Uncle Ben would probably be disappointed in us all lol.

fluff, angst, or smut : Angst, of course lol.

plots or memes : Both are fine, but meme's seem to get us there quicker.

long or short replies : Long replies are my thing. Short replies stifle me to much because it's inherent implication in most that the opposite writer is lazy. I don't care what the tumblr 'positivity' posts say. Half of you are simply just not writing to experience this hobby for what it is, creating a story. And that's fine. You do you. I'll play ball just the same.

time to write : Almost any time, this is more a career to me, being a writer, than a hobby, Roleplay is just warm up and practice for me. And I'm sick of people acting like it's just something throwaway, storytelling has and will always be an essential part of human existence. Read the room "It's just a Hobby" Yeah, because you are trying to get good at it, Jan. Tired of placating. If a boxer gets kicked to hard, the other guy can't go "It's just a hobby bro." Own your bruises lol. Love your hobbies, they are you.

are you like your muses : Yes, parts of me exist in most, if not all my muses in some part. Because writers always leave pieces of themselves in their art. Because every word written might as well be our blood.

tagged by: @ofwondersandhares

tagging: Anyone who wants to do this.

[rustandruin]

TOP 10 TAGS ON YOUR BLOG TAG GAME

Tagged by the lovely @theredandwhitequeen and the wonderful @keepersofmyheart. Thanks guys! 

1. Emmerdale (How I miss you, ye olde farmer soape)  

2. Robron 

3. Robert Sugden

4. Queue rious george (Still very proud of this)

5. Aaron Dingle

6. Marvel

7. MCU

8. Rust and Ruin Blogs

9. Star Wars 

10. lololol

This was so fun! I’m going to tag: @whatdoiknow, @illgetmerope @spamela-hamderson @dobrien @niccolofares @thompsonconnors @dingletragedy @luststricken @susieskinner93 @nooneelsecomesclose17 @irisnsc @omarandjohnny@robbleraptor @jonny-versace and anyone else who wants to! 

[friendzonefrog]

Morbid Curiosity - WIP Intro and Masterpost

Genre: Horror / Thriller

Rating: M (17+) [ may change or vary by installment ]

Status: Conceptualization / Plotting stage

Anthology series spanning several subgenres of horror, highlighting the weird, the paranormal, the terror in the mundane, and those who can't help but go looking for answers. Master tag: #wip: Morbid Curiosity

🎪 #1 Funfair

Paranormal

▸ A college photojournalist visits the site of an abandoned amusement park harboring dark secrets and horrors unknown.

Aesthetics: the cold and wet of autumn // eerie calliope music // echoes in dark tunnels // jumping at your own reflection in a funhouse mirror // creepy clowns.

Influences: Stephen King's 'It' // Jordan Peele's 'Us'

✯ Intro post ✯ Teaser moodboard ✯ Playlist ✯ Character meme (Tens But tag game)

Tag: #wip: Funfair

🌾 #2 Backroad Blues

Southern Gothic

▸ A big storm's brewing in Uncertain, Texas, home to a population of 80 citizens devoted to preserving the town's rich history... however gruesome it may be.

Aesthetics: banjo, harmonica, violin // old farmhouses and lakeside cabins // rusted silos and water towers // scary rednecks with double-barreled shotguns.

Influences: Supernatural // Resident Evil 7 // Jeepers Creepers

♞ Intro post coming soon! ♞ Spotify playlist

Tag: #backroad blues

🏰 #3 The Fall of Strömberg

Gothic/Macabre

▸ In 1520, a banquet was set ablaze, killing a family of Swedish nobles, along with their guests. Since that night, nobody has entered the castle ruins and lived to tell the tale.

Aesthetics: fire against the night sky // gargoyles perched above you // moonlight peering in through stained-glass windows // dark dungeons and long corridors // twisted alchemy.

Influences: Dracula // a dash of Midsommar

❋ Intro post coming soon! ❋ Spotify playlist ❋ Snippet (last line tag game) ❋ Character meme / first look (Tens But tag game)

Tag: #the fall of strömberg

🛒 #4 Night Shift

Slasher

▸ Retail employees on the night shift usually have to fight to stay awake... but tonight they must fight to stay alive, as an unseen killer attempts to pick them off one by one.

Aesthetics: mannequins and their blank smiles // fluorescent lights // loud music blaring over the speakers // handprints on fogged-up freezer doors.

Influences: Scream // I Know What you Did Last Summer // Until Dawn

☾ Intro post coming soon! ☾ Spotify playlist

Tag: #wip: Night Shift

---

TAG LIST INFO:

With autumn writing vibes kicking in, and spooky season right around the corner, I'm hoping to be pretty inspired and active with these for the next few months :D

I'll be doing separate tag lists for each installment, since the aesthetics are pretty different. If you're interested in being added to the tag list for one or more of these, lmk! <3

[dailyadventureprompts]

Could you impart advice on creating memorable adventures and campaigns?

Ok so my thoughts on this ended up becoming a bit long for a single post, so I decided to split it up and throw in a few example prompts along with it, you’ll be able to find them all in my “Drafting an Adventure” tag below over the next couple days. 

Drafting an Adventure, Step 1: Making them Care

First and foremost,  figure out an emotional appeal, and be sure to start with it: D&D as a game is only so fun, but the actual STORIES you end up creating and sharing with your friends are the real draw, they’re what you’re going to remember YEARS down the line and they’re predicated on getting your audience to care about the tale you’re creating with them. 

I can’t tell you how many d&d adventures I’ve seen fall flat because their hook is based purely on in game rewards, or because they sold themselves on emulating a genre without ever understanding the FEELING that genre was built around.  So many DMs spend all their time working on the lore of their world, but fail to provide the smallest accommodations  to make players feel welcome and involved in the story being told.

Say the Dm wants to introduce a lich villain the party is going to face off with  somewhere down the line, so they have undead rising from a local tomb and offer the players a reward for exterminating them. This is going to send them into a dungeon, have them face off against successive waves of creepier and creepier skeletons, until they get to the boss skeleton, and get some insight into the lich’s existence.   BORING, no one cares, there’s no stakes, there’s absolutely no emotional bond between the players, the lich, the town, or even the enemies themselves, all there is the obligation to go on the adventure because its there, and the vague promise of more fun later in the form of gold and XP 

Here’s a better version: 

The party is in town for a festival (reason to be in this particular spot at this time, the promise of fun) celebrating the end of a war some decades ago ( history, useful later, not important, but you can use it for hooks) .  They meet some amusing npcs at the festival/get to see their allies having fun ( emotional hook with the world) and goof of a bit with festive games and antics ( lightweight challenges that let your players express what’s fun about their character).  

Suddenly, a throng of skeletons in rusting armor attack the festival, people scream, everything is chaos, and our drunken heroes must rise to the occasion! ( a unique combat encounter with the party intoxicated, caught of guard, and disorganized,   set against an intriguing background and imperiling both their own enjoyment AND the NPCS we’ve grown to like). 

After the battling bones are dispatched, the party is left with the challenge of figuring out where they came from, and why, ( mechanical variation, going from hijinx to combat to investigation), which eventually leads them to a nearby ruined fortress that played an important role in the war ( backstory hook paying off, also time for a dungeon).  Exploring the ruins leads the party to encounter more undead soldiers, and the necromancer who raises them by calling upon their rage at being slaughtered and defeated   ( likely setting up a campaign theme of lost causes, and the human costs that are forgotten after victory is achieved).   The villain warns them that these soldiers are intended as a gift for the necromancer’s unseen master ( hey look, another plothook, possibly including OTHER apprentice badguys looking to pay tribute to our eventual arch-villain) and that disturbing the process will make the party enemies of a force far greater than them ( now a legit choice, do the heroes kick the hornet's nest?) . They slay the necromancer or accept his bribe, and then return back to town with a lot more questions than they started with. 

See how much more rich that is, how many more opportunities the players have to become invested, regardless of what aspect of the D&D experience brings them to the table? If you ran this adventure the “traditional” way, it’d be a quick stop in at the local tavern or a notice-board bounty, then a session or two of slogging through a dank ruin fighting same-y enemies that the players and their characters don’t honestly care about.  This way, you’ve given the party a whole host of things to care about: 

A chance to bond with  each other and with NPCS at the festival 

An interest in the setting, and how the war relates to the wider campaign lore

Their reputation as vanquishers of the undead and saviors of the town, which you can leverage into future adventures.  

The threat of an enemy gathering power somewhere out in the world. 

Art source 1

Art source 2

[rustandruin]

Thanks @susieskinner93 and @whatdiknow!!! I love a good piccrew (and several layers of clothing.) 

Tagging: @niccolofares, @dingletragedy​, and @sugdenlovesdingle​ and anyone else who likes doing these things but hasn’t had a chance to yet. 

tagged by @danveresque - hee doing things this always fun :)

Hair is better than my hair but close enough.

Picrew link

tagging: @susieskinner93 @starrythomas @jonny-versace @some-mad-lunge and whoever is in the mood

[zv5x]

Who (in your opinion) is a scarier yandere, Spirit, DD, or Auditor?

In all honesty, they're all scary yanderes to have for their own reasons. But if I were to choose, I might have to choose Spirit? I might be biased (I probably am), but, to make up for it, we're going to over analyze some more fictional characters. All three of them, we're doing this.

This is gonna be a long one lmao

(HCs go in order of Spirit (Friday Night Funkin'), The Auditor (Madness Combat), and Daddy Dearest (Friday Night Funkin'), for those wanting just one specific character (and for madcom fans wondering why tf fnf content is in their tags lmao)

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Spirit

What makes him scary is most definitely his blatant disregard for human life. Your life? Your life is precious to him, and he wouldn't even think to disregard it. However, the lives of those others...it can't be said that he feels the same type of pity. Humans are most definitely inferior in his eyes, and your life is the only mortal life he'd even think to spend his time protecting and cherishing. You're his favorite human, without any hesitation; a pretty gem in an entire caves-worth of rust and coal. So, for that, no level of eternal agony spent in the depts of hellfire is too harsh for those who dare stand in his way. It's only fair they get what they deserve, maybe it'll teach them to be more careful and watch who they cross

Additionally, there's absolutely no way to escape him. He's nearly unkillable by human standards, and your innocent little brain couldn't even begin to understand what it would take to get rid of him. Death wouldn't save you either, he's a demon after all, and do you genuinely think having a demon as well-known as him will make you look any bit pure in the eyes of those guarding Heaven's gate? You'd go straight to where he came from, and it will take absolutely no time to hunt you down. This is Spirit's one chance at intimacy. He has his eyes set on you, you're perfect for him. He doesn't want to lose you any time soon. And he won't. He'll make sure of it. No fate of yours now is a fate that doesn't include Spirit. You'll learn to get used to it soon. Humans were always so fond of the concept of soulmates, as silly as it sounded to him. A situation like this is something right in your biggest desires, is it not?

He's also definitely not above hurting you. You upset him, you angered him, and now he's been left no other choice. You need to be taught a lesson, in his view. And it doesn't matter how hard you cry from the unimaginable pain a demon such as him can bring upon you, just as long as this experience brings you closer to loving him even a quarter of how much he loves you. It's for the best, he'll tell you

I can imagine him extra terrifying if the way he met you is from you being trapped in the Hating Simulator at the same time he was. Mentally, that place ruined him. Deprived of interaction from any entity, left to rot, it really would do a number on anyone. His mind was occupied by wishes to leave and uncharted rage. However, that was until he stumbled across you. He didn't think to wonder what you did to cross DD and land yourself a spot in here, he didn't even think to wonder how long you've been here for. All he knew is that he liked the way you looked at him, and he wants to make sure he was the only one you could look at for the rest of eternity. He'd cling to you like his life depended on it, letting you hold him and looking suspiciously out of character when you're away. It quickly became apparent he relied on you to hold what crumbs were left of his sanity in place. He loved you. He loved you so much. He told you that all the time. He loved you so much, that he didn't even seem concerned when you broke down in fits of anxiety about what would become of the two of you. He was hurt not by the circumstances, but by the fact you were hurt. The game didn't matter to him anymore. There was nothing in this world worth thinking about besides you. With you around, he felt contempt knowing that the code of his game would one day collapse, because he knew that you'd be dying right there alongside him. In death, nothing could tear the two of you apart. You'd be his forever, and vice versa. So he held a straight face (non literally, of course) as he watched you cry. He knew that offering support in the form of reminders that death would bring to them an eternal and unbreakable partnership, was less than smart as for some reason you seemed too angry about your situation to see the pros rather than just the cons. He had successfully gotten to you. It made Spirit sick. Maybe that rage would be enough to return his desire to live on with you, find a way to leave and move on from the game; as knowing that vile monster was able to get under your skin absolutely enraged him. But that's alright. Spirit will find a way to free you. It would make you happy, and you'll feel even happier when DD is reduced to a bloody pulp. It's not like murder is something that he wouldn't do for you. After all, he deserves death for what he's done to you, for how he's made you feel. Spirit was only being fair in giving him what he asked for

Auditor

The Auditor builds his relationships off of inferiority and desperation, and craves his partner to feel deep feelings of inadequacy when compared to someone like him. To put it in much simpler terms: you are lower than him, you belong to him. Everytime you disobey him he sees your actions with no more care than a dog owner would give to a whining puppy. Your feelings don't matter in this situation, only his, you're nothing more than a pet in his eyes. He'd much appreciate you if you'd just accept that already

His sadism is most definitely an aspect that makes him "scary", considering no punishment is too far in his eyes if it feels it's able to teach you a lesson. Your pain doesn't deter him, it does quite the opposite actually. He truly feels you deserve what he's doing to you, and so, he has absolutely no reason to not enjoy what he's doing. He's not above giving you a front seat ticket to watch the horrors of Nevada unfold right before your very eyes. Do you genuinely wish to leave him when this is the world you'll be so cluelessly throwing yourself into? Do you really think you can survive in an environment like that without his protection? You're very stupid for thinking something like that, and he'll tell you as you look on at what you're seeing with wide eyes. You'd get torn to shreads out there. If you're so angered by the "humiliating" restraints he puts on you then maybe you'd do much better with your body defiled and your head on a stick. Is something like that truly better than just giving yourself up to him?

If you're good, he'll take such good care of you, without a doubt. He loves his pet, after all. How could he not? He's gonna take extremely good care of you, no matter how many murders you have to witness or how many times he's forced to make you scream in agony. He'll make sure you're the only one in his life, and he'll make sure he's all that goes through your head. Even if something like that requires breaking your mind completely. He's not turned off to the idea, though.

Daddy Dearest

For some reason, I do see him as less "scary" than the other two listed here. However, he most definitely has his moments. He's infamous, feared throughout his community. People know what he's done to others who have crossed him, and they'd rather do absolutely anything other than get on his bad side. How better else to get on his bad side than to get in between him and those he cares about? He's definitely possessive of you, incredibly suffocating as well. He barely let's you around others, out of the great inconveniences he believes they may cause

Willing to go to great lengths to keep you with him, he won't hesitate to show you the same fates he's so mercilessly given to others to teach you a lesson. For starters, the Hating Simulator is still able to be occupied. Maybe a little vacation would teach you a good lesson. Speaking of which, he's definitely prone to threats. Think of what DD could have done to you before you try and run away like you tried last time. If you need to be scared of him, then so be it. He knows you'll get over yourself eventually. And if you don't, it's not like more drastic measures aren't able to be made. He might just have to get creative with how he's punishing you, that's all! Not much. He wasn't doing anything wrong on his side anyways, all the blame falls on you and your refusal to accept the situation

He'd really do anything for you though, nothing is off the table for him. Killing people or throwing into such harsh fates they wish desperately death was an option, he's not in any way above it. He doesn't claim to be. He knows he's a murderer, and with the way he speaks it's almost as if he's proud of his own work. A sick minded engineer of his own reality, if you will. He reminds you all the time of the power you hold now. Nobody can ever bother you again, they fear him. So, he can protect you from them all Perhaps that's what makes him scary: the lengths he's willing to go for you. Or perhaps it's that unshakable dread, knowing any moment he could toss you with nothing left but broken dreams and an imprisoned soul. Either way, you're not leaving, and he's contempt knowing such a fact

[hughiecampbelle]

Parting Gift (Sam Wilson Oneshot)

Character/s: Sam

Word Count: 1,411

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @brithedemonspawn @megnotfound @ladyeliot @locke-writes @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @randomfandomimagine @amirahiddleston @diana-westmoon @valkyrie-2312

A/N: This was supposed to be fluffy, but the closest I can get to that is melancholy lol. The weathers been nice and it got me feeling nostalgic for summer. I hope this gives off that vibe, if that makes sense? Sam just seemed perfect for this and I kinda love this :) It doesn't exactly fit the timeline, but oh well :P There are only Endgame spoilers, none with TFATWS. I can't thank you enough for letting me rest with my health/writing and posting in general. I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Summary: You finally got him back 💌

Gif Credit: @biwilson / link 💕

FIC MASTERLISTS 1 -> 3 /WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

The low hum of the fan stirs in the quiet heat, restless, a lullaby you've grown used to since the season thawed. The snow puddles disappearing from the hot sidewalks, the grass growing green, the layers shedding around you until there is nothing but skin and the cool air that kisses it. It's old and shaky, the blades twisted, the fixture rattling, threatening to fall from the ceiling with every spin. Another chore you simply never got around to fixing, neglected much like the rest of the house. Like you, it was lucky it was still standing. The floors cried and creaked, needing to be replaced, but where was the time? The paint chipped, falling flake by flake, the shelves in need of dusting, the lawn grown too long, things were rusted, ruining, aging. Everything crooked, leaning, too heavy to stand on its own. One in the same, you and it, a reflection of your inner world, your inner turmoil, your grief defying, humanizing, materializing in rusted pipes, in thorny bushes, and weeds sprouting in the cracks of the sidewalks.

It was your dream. An escape. A slice of heaven he plucked from the skies. At least, that's how he'd described it. His hand, warm and calloused, over your eyes, letting your suspicions get the better of you, questioning like a child. What color was the door? How many windows? Was there a backyard? A steadiness in his voice you knew was not as solid as he showed, leading you past the street, past your new neighbors, the shade of the trees making your skin prickle. Up the path, you tried counting your own steps, anything to cheat the system. A leap of faith, you put so nicely. A house he passed by, one that struck him, caught his eye in a way nothing ever had. You? A house? Romanticized by the shoe box apartments the city had to offer, you never pictured any other life. Not out of opposition, but sheer innocence, a passive, thoughtless gesture you'd never recognized until the opportunity came along. Little convincing, it took. Somewhere far away from danger, from life, where you would always be safe together. That was enough. Always would be.

A fixer upper, that's what it was. Someone to care for in their old age, a long forgotten space only one with a heart of gold could fall for. Whether you were speaking of you, or the house, he'd never get the chance to ask. Where he saw the two of you, together, watching the rain pour from outside, comforted by a warm kitchen, a grand bedroom, nooks you could fill with hints of yourselves, you saw a slanted driveway, an unkempt garden, leaky ceilings and no hot water. He had hope. Dripped in honey,band hope, his voice sang through the thin walls, a symphony of ideas, of dreams for what it would one day be, taking you by the hand, leading you through. A maze of projects, big and small, things you'd add to a list of infinite length, your pen running out of ink long before you ever reached the bottom. For now, a coat of paint, a bucket or two for the leaks. He promised you, in the middle of an empty house, that it would one day be your home. You trusted him, because he was so sure of it, unlike anything else before.

You watched him sleep, the two of you facing one another. The sheets long discarded, too warm to even touch. You could follow the rise and fall of his back, the way in which he held the pillow to him, as if scared to let go. Tracing every line of him with your eyes, taking note of every single change, drinking him up every second you had together. The beads of sweat across his hairline. The upturn of his mouth, a whisper of a smile, as if caught in a sweet dream. The lines you see in yourself not yet reflected in him. Untouched by time. Five years could turn into a lifetime with the right kind of loneliness.

Plastic stuck to the furniture, bloated, sweaty, patiently waiting to be unwrapped. You couldn't bear to look at it, any of it, turning away from entire rooms, going only where it was necessary, using what you needed, not ready to face this place alone. It wasn't that first day, where your things, tightened by the city smog and lack of breathing room, were scattered wherever they might fit, left to expand in their new environment. The kitchen table in the living room. Chairs in the hallway. A couch discarded by the window, blocking the natural light. For the time being, he promised. Too many boxes to count, filled to the brim of glasses and mugs, wedding pictures and high school yearbooks, things you thought you needed, and things you knew you did. All of it wrapped in plastic, paper, t-shirts and towels. Whatever you could find to protect it. Sleeping on the floor those first few days, the mattress late, the frame even later, leaning on one another for that kind of comfort. It wasn't that first day, or week, but enough time to settle. The small things weren't yet opened. Two cups, to dishes, an endless waiting game for supplies to be shipped, of time to be found between work days and exhausted nights. He had a plan though, first the inside, then out. Sometimes there weren't enough plans, or lists, or schedules in the world to stop what would come next.

All of this, less than a month before The Blip.

Things hadn't changed since then, not without him. Five years you carved your path into the floorboards, avoiding everything that hurt like a landmine. His cup, his dish, his knife, and fork, and spoon, untouched. You would not look through your wedding album, or seep into the couch you bought together, or pluck the thorn riddled bushes like you pictured. His side of the bed empty, his clothes tucked away where you didn't have to see. All except one shirt taped up, turned away. His cologne fading from the collar, something out of your control, that made you want to scream. Everything these days, it seemed, was out of your control. Others, they moved on eventually. Started dating. Remarried. Found new friends, had more kids, picked up where they left off. Family reached out, teammates too, but you couldn't look at them. The anger, the sadness, all of it overwhelming. It left you drowning in questions no one had the answer to, everyone asking themselves the same thing: Why him, and not them? Why him, and not you? Why did any of this happen in the first place?

Isolating became the cure, and the corruption. The salt in the wound, a familiar sting you grew to expect, even want. A home for two, he promised, only now you were one. How cruel could the universe be? Hour by hour, day by day, you counted, carrying on for when he'd be back, because he would be. Sam, your Sam, too stubborn a man to give up like that. You would have dusted, washed the floors, made the place a little more welcoming if you'd known he'd be back when he did. Everyone came back, reappearing out of thin air, but where they felt frenzy, uncertain in explaining all that's happened, you were at peace, able to breathe again. Time had stopped when he was gone, your life paused. You could feel it, the moment when, the clocks in the house ticking once again inside their boxes.

Now, you lay together, as you had that first night. Not on the floor, not as naive as you were, but together none of the less. The sunlight strains, wanting to light up the room from behind the curtains. Even without it, you find yourself baking, wishing the fan would have a little more power. Sleeping in, you could have laughed. Five years he had, somewhere else, to rest, and yet you let him, not wanting to wake from what you fear might be a nightmare. If you woke up, and he was gone again, you weren't sure what you'd do, how much longer you could stand it. He assured you though, much like he had with this house, everything would work out in the end. That he was here, and he'd never leave you again.

Ever.

[heyhey-heyward]

WHAT WE WANT | part one

THE INVITATION

summary: You’ve always had a complicated relationship with JJ Maybank. Complicated in the sense that JJ has always had a crush on you and is unable to express it in other ways than shameless flirting. 

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist

If you’re a tourist on the Outer Banks looking for some place to eat, you’re probably going to end up at The Wreck. If you’re a strapped for cash teenager named JJ, Pope, or John B looking to score a free meal, you’re also probably going to end up at The Wreck.

Which is where the three found themselves as their fourth member, Kiara, the daughter of the owner of The Wreck, finished her shift. They were at a table in the back, halfway through lunch and trying their hardest to not be too rowdy and get kicked out. Kiara told her dad she was taking a break and shoved herself into the booth with the boys.

“Kegger tonight?” John B questioned out of the blue, pausing his game of throwing fries at Pope as he tried to catch them in his mouth. So far, they had been unsuccessful—evident by the way the ground around them was littered with fries.

“That’s a good idea.” JJ pointed at his best friend since the third grade with a grin that seemed to always spell trouble. And without further deliberation, it was settled. The Pogues would throw a party in celebration of absolutely nothing.

The door opened and a new customer entered, though that didn’t catch the attention of the group. JJ, who was seated in the same side of the booth as John B, both had their backs to the door. Neither bothered to turn around, assuming that it was just another tourist stopping in to escape the summer heat. That was, until, the newcomer spoke up and JJ recognized the voice immediately.

“Hey, Mr. C.” The cheery voice called, and JJ spun around so fast in his seat his friends were genuinely worried that he might have given himself whiplash.

Y/N Y/L/N. A name more renowned on The Cut than Maybank or Routledge or Heyward, you knew everyone and their mother on the island. If something broke, they called you and within five minutes you’d be able to tell them what’s wrong and how to fix it. You learned from your father, who owned the best auto shop on the island.

“Well, what’s the verdict?” Mr. Carrera asked as you approached the counter that he stood behind. He had called you to take a look at one of his old generators that hadn’t been working properly, and you had been out back working on it.

“One of the parts rusted so bad it stopped working, but I’ve already called to order a new one. I’ll let you know when it arrives.” You explained, giving him the short version of what you had accomplished.

“You’re a lifesaver, here’s lunch as payment.” Mr. C grinned, putting a container of your usual order on the counter. Usually, you charged Kooks, but his cooking was good enough that you overlooked it. You grinned, thanking him before turning to leave. Before you could get too far, someone called your name. You recognized the four faces that sat around the table that the sound originated from, and made your way over to them with a smile.

“Hey, guys, what’s up?” You asked as approached. John B had been the one to call out to you. You knew him from school and hung out together at parties every once in a while, but you were never the closest. Across from him sat Pope, who you had studied with on a few occasions and even helped his dad deliver groceries when you needed the extra money. Beside him was Kiara, who you didn’t know all too well since she went to the Kook Academy. Still, you liked the girl from what you had seen of her.

And then there was JJ, whose stare you were actively avoiding. It wasn’t that you had anything against him, it was just the fact that each time you crossed paths he would flirt with you if given the chance. And you were trying really hard to not give him the chance.

Because as much as you had a reputation on The Cut, so did JJ Maybank.

Looking past his family tree of smugglers and whatnot, he had made a name for himself among the tourist girls that visited the Outer Banks. He was famous for his one night stands with Tourons that would leave in a week and he’d never see again. Ever since you had met him, he had been trying to get you to be one more of his conquests.

And as tempting as his bright blue eyes were, you were determined not to let yourself be just another notch in his bedpost.

“Are you busy later today?” John B asked, ignoring the way JJ elbowed him. You shook your head, mentally running through your schedule for the day. The Carrera’s generator had been the last thing booked for the day, knowing you needed to run some errands for your father before heading back home, leaving your evening free. “Could you look at the HMS Pogue? Something is wrong with the engine and I can’t figure it out.”

“No problem.” You waved him off. It wasn’t unusual for you to work on John B’s boat, it probably would have been scrapped for parts if it weren’t for your repairs. You were a saving grace among the old equipment that many Pogues owned.

“We’re throwing a kegger after, so if you want, you can come with us after.” John B offered. You grinned, it had been awhile since you had let loose, too busy working to help keep your parents afloat like most teenagers on The Cut.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ve got to run, but text me when you want me to come by.” You called as you started backing away from the table. After receiving a nod from John B, you moved to smile at the other three sitting around the table. Before you could stop it, your gaze locked with JJ’s and in the split second it took for you to turn around, he shot you a wink that made your heart rate spike. As you left the restaurant, you couldn’t help but wonder just why the blond had such an effect on you, even when you so adamantly wanted to avoid him.

“How can you do that?” JJ turned to John B with an incredulous look on his face as soon as the door shut behind you. He was met with an amused and slightly confused look from his best friend, who was having a hard time figuring out what was so out of the ordinary.

“What, talk to her?” John B questioned, a look of realization crossing over his face. He’d seen the way JJ looked at you, and he was quickly connecting the dots.

“Talk to her like, I don’t know, she’s one of us! That’s Y/N Y/L/N, practically Pogue royalty.” JJ gushed, waving his hands around dramatically to drive home the point that he thought you were something spectacular. “I’ve been trying to get with her for months, bro, and she won’t give me the time of day.”

“That’s because she’s smart, J.” Kiara teased, reaching across the table to ruffle his already messy hair for added annoyance. JJ scoffed, running his hands through his hair dramatically to try and get it back to its previous unstyled style.

“And she’s really nice, and offering to fix the boat for free, so you better not ruin this for me by sleeping with her.” John B threateningly pointed a fry at JJ as he spoke. The blond surprised the whole table by flushing at the brunet’s words, glancing down at the table to try and hide his embarrassment.

JJ Maybank had a reputation of being a player. And yes, he did hookup with Tourons after most parties—but he thought you were different. Ever since he had seen you for the first time at The Boneyard laughing loudly at something someone had said, he was done for. You were the first girl that he wanted something more with, the first girl that made him not make fun of other couples because you were the first girl that made him realize he wanted what they had.  

“Shut up, does my little JJ have a crush?” Kiara cooed, and John B went to pinch JJ’s cheeks, but the blond was faster and slapped his hands away.

“No, I don’t! She’s just cool, I wouldn’t do something like that to her.” JJ mumbled. He wondered why he couldn’t just stop himself from talking, but then he pictured your smile once more and the corner of his lips quirked up subconsciously.

“Yeah, JJ, that’s because you have a crush on her.” Pope joined in on the teasing, and JJ decided that he had enough and tossed his balled up napkin at his friend.

“Don’t we have a party to get ready for?”

—

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