#write about a car ride

[aydann-runs]

This one is set between Season 3 and Season 4.

Alex is just about to walk away from–or throw into the wall–the Project Shepherd artifact he’s been researching when his phone rings. It’s Michael’s ringtone, so he swallows down his frustration before answering.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Is this a bad time? I can call back?” Michael says, sounding hesitant. Apparently, Alex hadn’t concealed his frustration as well as he’d thought.

“No, it’s probably good that you called,” Alex reassures him. “I was just about to break something, but I’ve been told that isn’t a constructive way to deal with strong emotions.”

“I’m here to help,” Michael chuckles. “So, uh, I wanted to take you out tonight. Nothing fancy, just burgers at the Crashdown and a drive out into the desert. But if you’re not up for it…”

“Yes, please,” Alex says as Michael trails off. “Honestly, that sounds perfect.”

By the time he hangs up with Michael, Alex’s frustration has faded to a manageable level and he makes it through the rest of the project without tossing the artifact at the wall. He suspects that the flirting he and Michael had done on the phone, along with the upcoming date, may be responsible for his greatly improved mood.

They flirt some more throughout dinner, and by the time they take their milkshakes to go, Alex feels pleasantly warm and happy. It’s a similar feeling to being a couple beers in, buzzed but not drunk, except it’s all because of Michael. He climbs into the passenger side of the old Chevy, and after a moment’s hesitation, slides across the bench seat so he’s pressed up against Michael. Michael grins and starts the engine, and once they’ve pulled out into the sparse traffic, he slings his arm around Alex’s shoulders and tugs him that little bit closer.

They’ve got the windows down, so they don’t talk much, content to sip their milkshakes and unwind in comfortable silence. The late spring air flows through the cab, and Alex closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He's always loved the smell of the desert, clean and pure. He picks up on earthy sage and the sweeter agave. Maybe a bit of creosote, too. When he opens his eyes, Michael is watching him, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Eyes on the road, cowboy,” Alex teases, and Michael spares him one last look before turning his attention to the highway.

Before long, Michael takes an unmarked dirt road. It should be a rough ride, but the truck’s suspension is good, absorbing the worst of the bumps. Alex isn't surprised. It may be old, but Michael's always taken good care of the Chevy.

At some marker Alex doesn't see, Michael leaves the road–such as it is–and heads out across the desert floor. They gently coast to a stop and Michael cuts the engine. He spins the keys around his finger once before pocketing them.

“Wanna watch the sunset and then make out for a bit?” he asks. “I tossed some blankets into the back before I picked you up. Should be comfortable enough.”

When Michael finally drops Alex at home, it's late, and he's exhausted in the best possible way. The whole date with Michael–dinner, the drive, kissing in the desert under the stars–had been exactly what he’d needed.

[sandeewithtwoe]

Dust is smiling under that hoodie

Dust belongs to Ask-dusttale

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

Horror belongs to horrortalecomic

The guy in the picture is the Intruder from the Mandela Catalogue series on YouTube

In case you can’t read my handwriting:

Killer: Look, this guy totally looks like you!

Killer: *shows a picture of the Intruder*

Horror: Oh yeah, I can totally see the ressemblance!

Dust: I fucking hate you guys

[littleplantfreak]

Please imagine Umemiya Hajime who's good at camping. He's well prepared and can start a fire in seconds if necessary. (Not to mention him chopping wood?) But also imagine the knots he can tie when putting the tent up. His fingers deftly looping and pulling around the stakes before he tightens them. He'll teach you what different ones are good for, but every time he has you try to do it, you come up blank, unable to tie the simplest thing. It takes the third time of him showing you before he realizes the dreamy look in your eyes isn't one of concentration to learn. But really, who could blame you when he explains it so patiently in that sweet low rumble that he uses when he's alone with you in close proximity. When occasionally he'll grab your hands in his to physically show you how the knots tie, and you can feel the callouses on his palms grazing your skin.

[phoenixmartinez-ride]

Being in a fandom long term, especially a smallish fandom is so weird sometimes.

Like there’s these people you remember from back in the day that you used to talk to all the time, people who were hugely popular in the fandom at the time. People that would post stuff constantly and everyone in the fandom knew who they were, coz they were fandom famous. And then one day they just kinda… dropped off the face of the earth? And no one’s heard from them in years?

Like these people were the biggest and most popular fanfiction writers and/or fan artists back in the day, and now they’re just gone from the fandom entirely, and newer fans who joined the fandom after they left don’t know who they are. And that’s fine, the new fans are great, but sometimes you just wanna talk about this old stuff that no one knows or remembers anymore. Or you wanna talk about old fandom dramas that happened ten years ago, but no one knows anything about it coz they weren’t around for it.

And sometimes the one that left leave all their old fandom stuff up in their abandoned accounts on tumblr or on other sites like ffn that have mostly fallen out of popularity/usage in favour of newer and/or better options, and you can still look at it and point it out as part of the fandom’s history.

But other times, they’ve deleted all their old pages and all their art and stories have disappeared and you’re kinda left alone remembering them when one else does. And sometimes you just really want to read that old fanfic by your fave author that you loved when you were like 14, but you can’t because it no longer exists anywhere on the internet.

[the-maddened-hatter]

So I've mentioned before that my irl friend and my partner got me to watch HoTD, but since we got caught up to the season finale of that we're now watching GOT.

So during a Littlefinger & Varys scene one of them mentioned how the two of them could both just absolutely kick Larys' ass as whisper masters and just now all I can picture is Larys just fucking full on snot crying after they've been bullying him at like 1/10th of their power for one (1) day and he's just like "Alicent can you come pick me up? I'm scared."

[andiwriteordie]

Mike and Will get locked in the school library and have to wait until morning for the doors to open up, perhaps?

ok so not gonna lie, i am getting sleepy (lol me projecting by writing mike's sleepy self in the library), but listen, this one was SO fun. a little modern byler au here, set during their senior year of high school. featuring every byler's favorite poem by richard siken (starts at 19:54 on the link).

—

with a beautiful boy

“What if nobody finds us in here, Will?”

Will blinks, and he rolls over to look at his best friend in amusement. “There’s school tomorrow, Mike,” he reminds dryly. “First thing in the morning, Ms. Jean’s gonna come in and realize we’re in here, and we’ll get lectured or get detention or something for being stuck in here. But they’re gonna find us.”

Mike hums, and he lazily reaches for one of the books—one with a black and white picture of a man’s mouth and hand, titled CRUSH. He opens it up, absently thumbing through the pages; then, without saying another word, he sets the book on top of his face.

“Do you think if I just… let these books sit on my head I’ll absorb all their information through osmosis or something?” Mike asks, his voice muffled by the book on top of his face, and Will just snorts.

“I think you need to sleep,” Will corrects, nudging his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s 2 AM, Mike. If you’re tired, you should sleep. I told you I didn’t mind staying up alone.”

“And I told you,” Mike says stubbornly, “that if you’re staying up, then I’m staying up too. Besides, it’s kind of fun. You know I get stupid when I haven’t slept in a while.”

Once again, Will snorts, and he reaches over, lifting the book off Mike’s face. “You said it,” Will deadpans. “Not me.”

A soft laugh escapes Mike’s lips, and he closes his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice a little sleepy. “I know I did.”

“Mike,” Will laughs softly, nudging his best friend again. “If you’re tired, go to sleep.”

Mike lifts his middle finger up. “Don’t tell me what t’do, Byers,” he grumbles. “I’m fine.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

Mike just hums softly, and he taps his fingers absently against the carpeted floor of the library. “Hey, Will?”

“Hm?”

“Will you read to me?” Mike says, his voice soft, and Will blinks, looking at his best friend curiously.

“You want me to read to you?” Will repeats, just trying to make sure he heard Mike correctly. 

“Mhm.” Mike nods. 

“What, like a bedtime story or something?” Will asks dryly. “Is that what this is?”

“No,” Mike huffs, opening one eye and sticking his tongue out at Will. “I just… like your voice a lot. It’s pretty. So… you should read to me.”

Warmth rises to Will’s cheeks, and he looks away quickly, lest Mike see the stupid blush on his face. Yeah, Mike is definitely loopy right now, since he’s saying stuff like this. There’s no way in hell Mike would say any of this if he was in the right mind. He has no idea what he’s talking about.

Maybe a bedtime story would be good for him.

“Fine,” Will sighs reluctantly. “What do you want me to read?”

Once again, Mike hums. “Just read the book I grabbed,” he mumbles. “The one you’re holding right now.”

“Okay, okay,” Will sighs, and he sits up, absently flipping through the book and trying to find a poem that stands out to him. 

Finally, one of the poems jumps out to him, and Will swallows the lump in his throat. He… he can’t help but think back to the summer road trip he and the other Party members had gone on, just a couple months ago. The memory of sneaking away in the morning before the others had woken up and riding in the passenger seat of Mike’s car along the coastline feels burned into Will’s memory, and this poem feels like that memory—as if the poet tore open Will’s heart and mind and used his thoughts as inspiration.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy,” Will begins to read softly, “and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired.”

Mike hums softly, and Will glances at his best friend, a tiny smile on his face. “You’re in a car with a beautiful boy,” Will continues, “and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist…”

Will’s heart pounds inside his chest, and he takes a shaky breath, staring down at the words. “And you feel your heart taking root in your body,” he murmurs, “like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.”

Once Will finishes reading the poem, the library goes silent. Neither one of them says a word, and all Will can do is stare at the words, reading them over and over again.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you.

…

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him.

...

And you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

“Hey, Will?” Mike murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

Will swallows the lump in his throat, and he lowers the book, so he can look at his best friend. “Yeah?” he whispers back.

Mike’s eyes are still close, and he absently traces his finger across the carpet. “Have you ever felt like that before?” he asks softly, and Will’s brow furrows.

“Like… what?” Will asks hesitantly.

“Like how the poet did when he wrote that,” Mike answers without hesitation. His voice is still soft, and it grows even softer when he adds, “‘Cause… ‘cause I have.”

Will’s breath catches. He glances back down at the book. The words jump off the page at him.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you.

“Yeah,” Will whispers back, hesitantly looking back up. “I… I have too.”

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him.

A tiny smile forms on Mike’s face, and he opens his eyes, looking sleepily at Will. “You should tell me about it sometime,” he whispers. “And I’ll tell you too… when I’m less sleepy. ‘Cause I… I don’t wanna wake up and realize this was a dream.”

There’s something so tender in Mike’s eyes, and Will can’t help but smile. “Okay,” he says softly, nodding at his best friend. “We can tell each other about… about what we’re thinking about, when you’re less sleepy. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mike promises, yawning softly. “I… I’m gonna sleep now. ‘m sorry.”

Will can’t help but laugh. “It’s okay,” he reassures. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you up before school starts.”

The smile on Mike’s face grows. “G’night, Will,” he mumbles, and he closes his eyes once more.

“Goodnight, Mike,” Will whispers back.

Within moments, Mike is fast asleep, and Will exhales, looking back down at the poetry book in his hands. His eyes land on the last lines of the poem, and Will can’t help but smile.

And you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

[erinelizabethh]

Time Slip | Chai x Reader (6/10)

Summary: Chai, ambassador of Vandelay Technologies, certainly has his ways of communication. You, living in the suburbs outside the campus, don't even have a cell phone. You know what they say about relationships…

Chapter One: Time Slip

Chapter Two: #E67451

Chapter Three: Daisies

Chapter Four: Sweet Dreams

Chapter Five: Synesthesia

Chapter Six: On Mercury

The liquor slid down your throat finally, once trapped brushing over your taste buds when the Vandelay sister excused herself from the bar and took you with her. Sure, you could have took some cues from the drama class you forced yourself to take during your freshman year; perhaps then you could have spared the other two from assuming you couldn’t take it by nearly spitting it out all over the countertop. Peppermint, upon your wince and your lips flattening, fished around in the pockets of her cyan flannel to hand you a tiny bottle of tequila with a: “Here, you’re gonna need it.” You echo her sentiment with a whisper under the buzzing of flickering lamps above your head, nonetheless screwing off the lid, clinking the bottle with her own, and downing it in one shot. The bathroom wall is chill against your scalp as the buzz began to envelop you, your groan insignificant to the cries of frustration from the woman before you. Behind you was all of the action, beyond those doors music deafening to the ears and parties looking for a thrill or someone to spend the night with. Too loud, too overstimulating, but your boyfriend promised to make the night worth it by opening a tab under his account and then following the excitement with a night at your apartment. A night undoubtedly beginning with him rolling you up into a burrito under a blanket that was once his, with your cheeks squished against his as you two watch an action movie… his choice. You couldn’t help but count the minutes even if the alcohol turned minutes into seconds.

The idea to invite Korsica and Peppermint was not yours, nor was it entirely unwelcome. No double date was planned but the hang out of four friends; two of you so happened to be dating, and it would’ve been really cool if we were dating and all of us could go on, like, double dates, according to Chai. That would actually be pretty dope, you would respond. No one says that anymore hun. Say it with me: cool. Peppermint and Chai just so happened to frequent this place, the crowd practically anticipating their arrival, with the man swearing that one day this will be his first gig in show biz. You count yourself fortunate that no one followed the two of you into the bathroom, most likely instead fawning over…

You stiffened. “Don’t you and Korsica work together?”

“Something like that,” she began, hands gripping at the edges of the sink. “But—“

You huffed. “So what’s the issue?”

“The issue—“ Her grip tightened before she balled her hands into fists. Your gaze shuffled to her knuckles, her skin white with exertion, and you find her gaze again. “The issue is that I think I already love her.”

A lot to unpack there, but no time; your phone vied for your attention from the pocket of your jeans, no doubt your boyfriend in search for updates. His best friend knew this, was positive that was him, and she looked to you and shook her head in a plea for you to hear her out. “We’ve hooked up once before,” she revealed to you. Your eyes were wide with the revelation and her gaze found your pocket, no doubt aware of where your head was. The response was: “Don’t tell him or I’ll kill you,” and no matter the outcome of the night, that was now one less thing to giggle with him about. Peppermint confiding in you was an honor, however, and was a pact you intended not to break. Chai would not know unless, well, that buzz progressed a bit further than feeling nice.

She sighed, handing you another bottle. “We were drunk.” Before she took her swig, she raised an eyebrow at your posture leaning to your left. “You still with me?”

You paused, raising the rum above your head. “Cheers to being drunk and hooking up I guess.”

Chai was always too oblivious to notice it. To you, it was evident: the passing of glances from the two, the swift return to routine with but a brush of red on their cheeks. Peppermint, unable to process such emotions, would take it out on her roommate by jostling at his shoulders for reasons she should be long used to. Korsica would utter her name and seem deep in thought as if she was dwelling on how it sounded on her tongue. The affinity for the candy was sudden, as if the very plant itself reminded her of her crush. The hopeless romantic in you couldn’t help but think it was more than a crush; a love blossoming was more like it, well beyond of you and your boyfriend’s.

Oh, now you were feeling nice. You smiled. “You should just be natural. I think she, uh, likes you natural.”

The trek to the highest point of the dome was not an effortless one, and was not without its disadvantages: your knees aching and cracking as you threw your leg over one ledge after another. Your vision blurs when you blink and you do miss a step or two, but you nonetheless make it with a few cackles from your lover. It is only when you and Chai reach the surface that his eyes shut and he presses his lips against yours, streetlight overhead casting a shadow over lips hungry for affection. Your hand rests on his knee when he does so, the warm yellow hues enveloping the two of you on top of the world. The autumn breeze slithers up your sweater causing your body to quiver against the cool metal of the jungle gym, and Chai in response drags you toward his embrace by wrapping his arms around you and sharing his heartbeat with yours. His lips are cold, his breath escaping past him and dissolving into mist, but he continues to shower you with kisses that tempt you with a good time. With the prior decision for the four of you to abandon the bar at Peppermint’s request, you and Chai bask in the indulgences of a past once carefree and abundant with uncertainty. 

He distracts you so much that the couple below you is forgotten, and your mission to third wheel a romance about to blossom is all but abandoned when Chai’s fingers grasp at your chin to focus your attention back at him. The second it takes the distance to grow between the two of you is the same as the second your boyfriend does not take for granted; he captures your lips once more before asking: “Wanna climb up that one?” Behind you is a dome twice the height of the one you two are situated on, and his response to your rebuff and your proclamation that he absolutely cannot make it up there is a smooth, “I bet I can.” However, Chai is lazy and it nonetheless shrouds his confidence; the man does not move, nor does he make the effort to be apart from you.

“Chai, do you think—“

“That they’re definitely over us kissing? Yes! I do.”

You groan. “That this double date worked?”

“Ohhh! Right… prolly not.” However, he sneaks a peek over your shoulder, and he grins. “Or maybe…”

You expect the two of them to huff below you, feet planted on the ground as their eyes roll to the back of their heads with the obscenity of the two of you lip-locking. You expect to turn and find them throwing their hands up and stomping to the truck, grumbling about how much of a waste of time today was. When Chai grips at your chin to steer you towards his line of vision, you find the two lovebirds against the trunk of Peppermint’s truck as their lips touch for the first time. If you squint, you can feast your eyes on the beauty that is Korsica’s hands cupping her lover’s cheeks; their noses touch, and you’re reminded of the first kiss you and Chai shared all of those months ago.

“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right! Can’t believe we pulled that off!” His hand is raised, awaiting a high-five, but your fingers instead intertwine with his. He says your name, fingers tracing his own across the cloth that warms your thigh. You eye at the hairs that stand in response to his touch, at the metallic that pricks at the thread of your jeans as he spells out another word in time with the swift waving of your hand clasped with his.

He then shakes his head and goes: “Nah. Just counting myself lucky.”

Three words. That’s all it takes.

You give him four. “Move in with me.”

[tvrningout]

will y’all still love me if i’m not active tonight 🥺

[erstwhles]

hey

[daddy-long-legssss]

this 38-year-old white man should not give me as much joy as he does

[temsiik]

I haven't actually written any sort of story before, but I'm strongly considering starting to dip my toes into creating fanfiction. My current idea is, for some reason, a character introspection on Pinako Rockbell.

Don't know why I was inspired to write about a relatively minor character, and not the characters or pairing I'm actually obsessed with, but it is what it is.

(Ed x Winry will be mentioned though, as this story is after they marry, but it's about Pinako not them. But if this goes well I do want to try writing EdWin eventually, and really hoping to make something for 503 week next year too).

[mothgardens]

i need angsty sam winchester fic recs PLEASE

i want to write them but alas i have writers block so i must do indulgent reading

[mossbabie]

🗻

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

sorry to message but i just wanted to yell because I saw a post and yOU’RE THE AUTHOR OF FALLOUT FROM THE FADE ???? oh my goodness it’s my favourite fic ive read it SO many times.

i left a comment on ao3 last night because i finished reading it again and i just genuinely hope one day you finish it (i understand you have much going on i am just greedy).

but yes thank you so much for creating it, fenris and hawke are everything to me and this fic is my canon no matter what happens in veilguard. 💜

hahaha HELLO yes that is indeed I... I guess i do owe a little bit of an explanation here since its been uh... like 4 years since I last updated, yeah :| But it still makes me so happy that even after so long people still enjoy my little pile of suffering and yearning!

I don't know how many people who used to follow it are still on tumblr (I think a lot of people i used to write with/who would comment have deleted their tumblrs and AO3 accounts in the intervening years alas) but i do I owe anyone remaining a little context I guess lol. Long story made short is like very shortly after my last update i got broken up with unexpectedly from my 4 year relationship, and went into a bit of a spiral about it. I didn't fully stop writing at this point (though I think nothing I wrote in that like... year or more ended up posted anywhere), but I did realize that when I went to work on my ongoing stuff I was in a place where I was like... only wanting to write about anger/losing relationships rather than healing ones. And that part of me wanted to change some of the things I had planned for the following parts and ending of Fallout From the Fade. And so I decided to take a step back from it for a while to see if I actually wanted to make those changes when I was less bitter or if I wanted to follow my original plan.

And that took me about a year, emotionally. However by then I had actually left my prior job (where I spent a lot of time hiking/camping in the wilderness of Utah with no internet, and I used that time for writing), and started graduate school courses. Aaaannnd grad school has been slowly eating my life since. I've only posted I think one other fanfic since then, and it was a very short prose-poem one shot. Another contributing factor was my gaming tech was too old to actually play Trespasser when it came out, and by the time I got a laptop that could handle it, I had to replay the whole game but I was working full time, etc... and i felt really disconnected from the DA fandom since I couldn't read all the new fic/understand all the lore deep dive posts/experience it with everyone else simultaneously. Oh yeah and I work a second job as a professional mermaid in varying degrees of intensity depending on the season/oportunties available haha.

All that being said. I actually have written more of FFtF in the last 2 years. But like I said in the other post I made kinda recently, the long gaps between my later updates (vs the ones I was doing way more regularly in 2016-2018) had me rethink the approach I was using to write and post it, which was a chapter at a time. It felt like stringing people along in kind of a mean way to dump a chapter and then vanish for another year, and I knew I couldn't promise consistency while doing a masters/PhD program. So I've been kind of fiddling away at it slowly still, both actual writing of following chapters, and some substantial firming up/drafting sections in my outline to get to the eventual ending and ensure it's more cohesive than a lot of my slapdash chapters. But! Idk! I do also def work slower without the fun of having an audience, and miss that. and I never actually asked of the people who are left and still wanna read more of it, if they'd rather just get a chapter every 6 months or so as I scrounge it out. If you are one of those people and have an opinion def let me know.

I will say, the imminent presence of Veilguard does have me more inspired and creative again, and some of that has been going to Fallout. Especially since I'm no longer watching the videos/gameplay bioware is putting out since they have SOOO many spoilers and I wanna go into the game at least semi blind, so my creative energy has to go towards my personal stuff rather than joining everyone else in speculation and hype now. I'm definitely not promising I will have it close to finished by October when Veilguard releases, because I'm still in grad school and the next months are busy for me in terms of mermaid work too, but I am hoping I can make some good chunks of progress between now and then. But then if I say that and can't follow through after all I also don't wanna let people down.

Anyway yeah, it's sort of a lot of conflicting thoughts. But I'm still rotating Hawke and Fenris and this fic in my mind even these years later... which for me is honestly pretty normal. I mean I have whole original novels/worldbuilding ideas/etc that I've worked on for 10-15 years in my own time haha, I've been writing fiction for fun since I was like 10, so I think I also just think of stories/writing across a bigger timeline than people who start writing with fanfiction (which is MUCH faster paced) than original fiction. The difference of course is no one sees my original stuff so there's no one to care if i take 2 years between chunks of progress. SO I guess what I am trying to say is, yes definitely it is not abandoned, I am plodding away at it bit by bit, I also hope I can finish it one day!!!! that is within this decade i hope! whether or not anyone else is left to read it but me haha

[my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda]

Trans girl Kazuichi x trans boy Gundham

and then Gundham had to get Kazuichi to pull over (I mean they weren't driving that fast and it was the middle of nowhere but you get the idea).

the car is a Datsun 510.

[areakeeper]

so has anyone else experienced Thoughts about this blurb in dùrians desc or do i just need to be neutered