‘Jax!! Why do you always gotta do this?’ Ragatha shrieked at the rabbit. He smirked, and leaned on the bottom of the baseball bat.
‘Because it’s fun, dollface.’ His tone alone could make her explode. She groaned, kicking the bat out from under him. He fell to the floor with a satisfying yelp, and she smirked at him for a change.
‘See, I don’t think the floor is a good spot to be if you’re trying to intimidate me.’ She kicked his shin before grabbing the bat and walking over to the table. Jax sat up, chuckling breathlessly.
Hé had to admit. That was pretty badass.
Jax came over to the table and sat across from Ragatha. She raised a brow at him, since normally he sat far away from her. He shrugged, leaning back in his chair.
‘So, that last adventure, huh Raggy?’ He looked into her one eye. Usually he looked into the button to piss her off. ‘I mean, I’m sure PomPom was still shaking by the end of it.’
‘She was.’ Ragatha sighed. She completely froze and turned bright red on her cheeks when she felt Jax run his foot up her leg. She quickly looked away, turning to face Kinger.
‘Awww, don’t like my company anymore Raggy?’ He teased, and Ragatha got up, heading up to her room. Jax raised a brow, and followed her.
In the hallway, Ragatha was about to open her door, when an arm wrapped around her waist, and she felt someone’s breath on her neck.
‘Mmm… not yet.’ He muttered against her throat, kissing it softly. She breathed out slowly. Looking down the hall. ‘Nobody’s gonna see Raggy.’ He smirked, spinning her around to face him, and pinning her against her door.
She gasped at the motion, looking up at him. He hummed, a finger tracing up her chin.
‘Do you want this, Rags?’ He muttered, leaning into her neck, pressing soft kisses, biting lightly, and letting his tongue soothe the bite. He heard the faintest moan, and then…
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Cupid's Curveball: mini chapter 2.5: The Journal Entries
mini chapter 2.5: The Journal Entries
1.4k words
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Eddie’s Journal Entry
February 8th, Late That Night
Alright, Munson, let’s get this out of your head because you’re driving yourself insane.
She said it was for Silas. Silas. Some guy with a decent smile and a thing for animals, and apparently, that’s enough to have her all flustered and making mixtapes like it’s some kind of love letter. But damn it, why does every song on this list feel like it’s screaming my name instead?
“Take It Easy” by the Eagles Yeah, because she always tells me to take a breath when I get worked up about stupid stuff. She’s the one who makes me calm, makes me laugh. “Laid-back and classic,” she said. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
“Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses This one’s supposed to be romantic, right? The kind of song you play for someone who makes your world brighter? I played this in my van once, and she sang along, all off-key and perfect. She said it was one of her favorites. That wasn’t for Silas, was it?
“I Want You to Want Me” by Cheap Trick Alright, that one’s just cruel. If that isn’t what I’m feeling every damn time I see her smile, I don’t know what is.
“Take My Breath Away” by Berlin She laughed when I said it was a bit much, but hell, that’s exactly what happens when she looks at me like I’m actually worth something.
“Somebody to Love” by Queen Freddie gets it. The whole damn song is my internal monologue whenever I’m around her. But yeah, sure, Silas is the guy who needs somebody to love.
“You Really Got Me” by The Kinks No commentary needed here. It’s obvious. She’s got me, alright. Has had me for way too long, and she doesn’t even know it.
“Let’s Go” by The Cars Okay, that one’s practically ours. How many times have we blasted that in the van, singing like idiots? “Adventuring song,” she called it. Damn right, it’s for us, not Silas.
“Crazy on You” by Heart Oh, I get it. She’s got no idea how much I get it. She picked this one, probably thinking it’s just a good song. But it’s a gut punch every time, especially since it’s how I feel every second she talks about someone else.
“All My Love” by Led Zeppelin Now we’re just twisting the knife. This one hurts because I remember showing her Zeppelin’s stuff, watching her light up when I talked about their lyrics. If she’s giving all her love to Silas, where’s that leave me?
“I Was Made for Lovin’ You” by KISS She joked about it, said it’d make Silas think she’d put out. The words pissed me off more than they should’ve. She deserves better than some guy she barely knows. She deserves… more. She deserves someone who’d do anything just to see her smile.
“Hot Blooded” by Foreigner A joke, she said. But it feels like every time I’m around her, my heart’s pounding out of my chest. She doesn’t even have to try.
“Whole Lotta Love” by Led Zeppelin Another Zeppelin track. Another punch to the gut. What the hell does Silas know about love anyway?
“Walk This Way” by Aerosmith Alright, this one’s just fun. It’s us, though. Our energy, our vibe. Not Silas’s.
“Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica This one broke me.
She doesn’t remember, does she? I showed her this song. I told her what it meant to me, how it’s about opening up, letting yourself be vulnerable, and laying it all on the line for someone who matters. I told her it was one of the most personal songs to me. She said it was beautiful. Now she’s putting it on a tape for some guy who couldn’t possibly understand what it means to her or to me.
I didn’t say anything when she picked it. I just wrote it down and forced a smile like it didn’t feel like someone had just ripped my heart out and stomped on it.
I keep telling myself it’s fine. She doesn’t owe me anything. She’s allowed to like who she likes. But damn it, why does it have to hurt this much? Every song, every little joke, every laugh it's like I’m standing on the sidelines watching her slip further away.
She asked me to go dress shopping tomorrow. Said she wanted me there. For what? To help her pick something Silas will drool over? Or to carry her bags and pretend like I’m not in love with her?
I don’t know if I can keep doing this. But the thought of not being there for her? That hurts even worse.
God, I’m a mess.
Your Journal Entry
February 8th, Late That Night
Dear Diary,
What is wrong with me? I had the perfect chance to tell him. I made the tape, poured my heart into every song, and then what do I do? I blame it on Silas.
Silas! Who isn’t even real! He’s literally just Eddie’s middle name. And now Eddie probably thinks I’m into some imaginary guy when the whole point of this stupid mixtape was to tell him I’m into him.
How does my brain even work? Like, did I think he wouldn’t notice that every song is one of ours? The ones we jam to? The ones we sing at the top of our lungs in his van? Did I think he’d just shrug it off? Or maybe I was too afraid he’d get it, and I panicked. That’s it. I panicked, and now it’s all messed up.
The Songs and Why They Were for Him:
1. “Take It Easy” by the Eagles Eddie’s always telling me to relax, to stop overthinking. He’s my “take it easy” guy. This song is him, through and through.
2. “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses This is how I feel when I look at him. He’s so… him. Beautiful in every way.
3. “I Want You to Want Me” by Cheap Trick Self-explanatory, right? I want him to want me. But I couldn’t just say that, so I said it was “fun.” God, I hate myself.
4. “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin Because that’s what he does. Every single time he looks at me.
5. “Somebody to Love” by Queen I don’t want just somebody. I want Eddie. And I want him to know he’s not alone.
6. “You Really Got Me” by The Kinks This one’s for us. For the way we are together chaotic, fun, and perfect.
7. “Let’s Go” by The Cars Our road trip song. Our dumb-adventure anthem. How did he not remember that?
8. “Crazy on You” by Heart Because he makes me crazy. In the best way.
9. “All My Love” by Led Zeppelin He has all of it. My love. Every bit of it.
10. “I Was Made for Lovin’ You” by KISS Flirty, fun—what I wish I could be instead of a nervous wreck.
11. “Hot Blooded” by Foreigner This one’s about the way he makes me feel. My heart races, my cheeks burn… It’s all him.
12. “Whole Lotta Love” by Led Zeppelin This is our song. He’s the one who showed me Led Zeppelin, the one who got all excited explaining why this track was so amazing.
13. “Walk This Way” by Aerosmith It’s loud, wild, unapologetically him.
14. “Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica This one hurts the most. Eddie showed me this song forever ago. He said it was about trust, about letting someone in. He told me how much it meant to him, and I put it on the tape for him. Not for “Silas.” For Eddie.
I can’t believe I let my anxiety mess this up. I wanted to tell him. I really did. But when the moment came, I froze. I couldn’t say it. And now he thinks this was all about some fake guy I made up.
I don’t even know how to fix this. I want to tell him it’s for him that he is the reason for every song, that he is the reason my heart feels like it’s about to burst half the time. But what if I try and it’s too late? What if he doesn’t feel the same?
I hate this. I hate feeling like this. I just… I wish I could tell him.
Chapter 29.5 - Where does Katya go after leaving Viktor Friday night? And an answer to who that lanky someone was that Viktor saw at the end of the chapter.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Silco x Katya, Sevika x Nasha, everyone x horniness
Chapter 29
After a beat, Katya wiped her hands on the rag hung over the kitchen faucet before stalking over to her coat, hung on the peg by the door. Surprised, Viktor looked up as she whipped the garment around herself.
“What are you – “
“I need to go take care of something,” she answered, shaking the collar out around her head. “If I am not back before nine, get ready for bed. Yes?” He nodded slowly. “Good. I love you. I’ll be back soon. Do not open the door for anyone.”
Viktor’s brow crumpled as she whisked out of their home.
Katya strode purposefully in the direction of The Last Drop, surprising annoyance simmering in her belly. She knew Viktor was terribly bored, but she wished he would just settle. She was worried about Enforcers. She was also worried about a well-meaning Brother or Sister outing her.
She had meant what she had told Silco the night prior: That she wanted to keep Viktor at arms-length from what was happening in the Undercity – in Zaun – until they were on the cusp of independence. When he would no longer be in danger because of her involvement.
But there was a darker something slithering just behind that altruistic motivation. Something Katya was afraid to fully look at.
She pulled her coat tighter around her waist and pressed on.
Trenchers defiantly stepped passed Enforcers, their shoulders pulled back, chests puffed up, unwilling to let Topside claim any more of their energy. If they wanted to go out on the town, they would. And performative threats were not going to stop them. Katya was grateful for the extra bodies. She was less likely to be singled out by an uppity Enforcer. Easier to melt back into the masses, and become one with her people.
Being Friday night, The Last Drop was busy. Patrons at every table, booth, and barstool. Some leaned against walls, drink in hand, waiting for someone to vacate their seat. A large group was huddled around the billards table, laughing and egging each other on. Tolder was stationed at his usual table, his cards spread between him and his victims for the evening. Sevika was nowhere to be found. Annie flitted effortlessly between the tables and customers, beaming bright.
Katya felt herself warm from the inside out at the sight. A few Children noticed her come in, and raised their glasses in greeting. The warmth bloomed bigger, a smile spreading across her face. She nodded back at them before making her way to the bar.
As usual, Vander was behind it; Silco and Benzo seated on stools in front of him, lit cigarettes dangling from their fingers. Silco and Vander were discussing something, their heads tipped toward the other. Benzo’s eyes lazily drifted around the bar before landing on Katya. She saw his lips move, a playful lilt forming on them. At once, Silco spun around. Vander stood up and his face dropped, his expression unreadable before morphing carefully into one of practiced politeness.
Silco looked at her, eyebrows curling up to his hairline; unsure if he should be worried or excited by her unexpected appearance. Relief swept through him when she smiled. He reached for her, and when she was close enough Katya took his hand. Like comet, she easily slid into the orbit of his body.
“Thought you couldn’ get away on Fridays,” Vander noted breezily. He began futzing with the taps. Ignoring how Silco’s hand wrapped around her waist, tugging her closer.
“Is everything alright?” Silco asked, his hand sweeping up and down her side.
“Yes, everything is fine. And I cannot stay long. I came to ask a favor.”
She looked at each of the men.
“What’d’ya need, Lass?” Benzo asked, taking a pull from his cigarette.
“Viktor wants to go to Augmentation Alley’s scrap yard tomorrow to look for materials for one of his classes. He’s been cooped up inside for the past few weekends, and I feel badly about it. I want to be able to take him, but I am concerned about Enforcers. Or getting him caught up in some kind of skirmish.” She sighed, “Would one of you be able and willing to tail us tomorrow? Keep a distance so he does not see you, but close enough to provide warning if someone is coming our way?”
“Yeah, I can do it,” Silco said. “I don’t have to be at the mines ‘til late. You and your brother would head home before supper, I take it.”
Kat nodded, tension in her shoulders melting down. She kissed his temple, and Silco hid his pleased expression behind a veil of cigarette smoke.
“Wish I could help,” Benzo replied, “but I gotta be at the shop tomorrow.”
“’N I’ll need to straighten and prep fer tomorrow night,” Vander mumbled, gathering Silco and Benzo’s empty glasses.
“That’s alright. One should be enough, I think. I hope.”
“It’ll be fine,” Silco assured.
Kat gave him a grateful smile, and told him what time she was planning on leaving for the scrap yard. Vander placed two full glasses in front of Benzo and Silco, and both nodded their thanks. Kat looked at the drinks wistfully.
Her voice was glum as she said: “I should head back. I told Viktor I would not be late.”
“I’ll walk you home,” Silco said automatically, making to stand.
“Sil,” Vander huffed, trying to sound amused, “I just poured you a drink.”
“It’s fine, Silco. I can manage,” Kat promised. She pressed a hand to his chest in encouragement to sit back down.
Silco looked from her, to the drink, to Vander, and back to Kat.
“Let me walk you to the door at least.”
Katya chuckled, rolling her eyes.
“Have a good night, Vander, Benzo,” she said and grabbed Silco’s hand, guiding him to the tavern’s door.
Benzo raised his glass to her. Vander nodded stiffly.
Once they stepped into the cool and neon-lit night, Silco’s hand clamped tightly around Kat’s, and pulled her toward the alley behind the Drop.
“Surely you didn’t think that you would appear on a night I normally don’t see you, and get away scot-free?” he purred, pressing her back against the stonewall. Crowding her with his body and shadows.
A knife of a grin sliced across Kat’s mouth, and she tugged on his shirt. His mouth readily crashed into her’s, lips prying, tongue searching. Her hands snaked around his back, and gripped his shirt in needy bunches. He grabbed at her with equal fervor, large hands squeezing her waist and hips.
Kat angled her head for deeper access, their tingling lips slotting together perfectly. Silco’s nose moved and brushed against her cheek. He pushed small, quiet groans from his mouth to hers. She trembled, arousal growing rapidly and sitting heavily between her thighs.
Scrabbling madly, her hand wove itself into Silco’s hair. She clutched it tightly, and his hips gave a small buck. A growl rumbled up from his chest, and he surged forward. His left hand slid up from her waist, and made to fondle her breast through the soft material of her blouse. Kat gasped. And with his lips free, Silco dove to suck and bite at her neck.
“Si – Sil – “ she panted. Of their own accord, her hips began undulating in small waves.
At the sound of her voice, the tether of Silco’s control snapped. He pulled his mouth off her with a harsh pop! and pulled her deeper into the alleyway.
They stumbled toward the Drop’s backdoor. The lust haze covering Kat’s judgement lifted enough to question the wiseness of fooling around in Vander’s apartment again. But before she could voice her concerns, Silco stopped in front of the small shed just a few feet away from the backdoor.
These structures were common in the Lanes’ business district – especially for taverns and restaurants (few that there were). They were meant to house the wood and coal used to heat stoves and ovens. However, due to Piltover’s chokehold on the import of products into the Undercity, most were woefully bare. Allowing space and privacy enough . . .
Kat’s heart leapt to her throat, and the ache between her legs gave an excited pulse. She squeezed Silco’s hand in understanding. In agreement. An excited, warbling breath left him as he reached forward, and ripped the shed door open.
“OH!” Kat exclaimed, lurching back and covering her mouth. Silco stared.
It seemed they had not been the only ones with this idea.
Tucked inside the shed, in varying states of undress, Sevika had Nasha pressed against the wall adjacent to the door. One of her hands held Nasha’s wrist above her head, the other was shoved down the front of her pants. Sevika’s cheek was resting on one of Nasha’s nearly exposed breasts, her silver eyes wide with horror at being caught-out.
Nasha, however, was more annoyed than anything. Her flushed face frowned at Silco and Katya.
“Occupied!” she snarled.
A long limb snaped out, and pulled the door out of Silco’s hand, slamming it shut.
Kat and Silco stood in the alley for a long moment, before she awkwardly giggled and gently tugged him back toward the alley’s mouth.
“It is probably for the best,” she sighed. “I do need to get back home.”
Silco hummed a disappointed, but amenable note, before ducking down and kissing her. More chaste this time. Sweet and simple.
Kat squeezed his hand, and reluctantly slid her fingers out of his.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
She grinned and shrugged. “In a way.”
The smile spun melancholy. Silco hated the sight of it, so he dipped down and kissed it away.
“Thank you again,” Kat murmured as he drew back.
“I got you.”
“You have me.”
Just a little something. Any excuse to smoosh Kat and Silco's faces together, really 😂
Comments, reblogs, and recommendations keep me and other author's motiviational fires burning! I'd love to hear what y'all are thinking.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Sans discovers more and more that caring for three tiny flames is a lot more than he thought it could ever be. A friend offers some wise words that won't leave him for sure.
Also, what is Fellby doing with the dog?
There was a demand for more tiny flames. You'll get the tiny flames! :)
I'll soon be reaching 1500 followers (thank you so much!!) and I've been thinking, what can I do to celebrate it? So I decided to start a competition. Information below :)
Competition:
Write a short story between 50 and 250 words in any genre you like. You must write it in Dutch. I do realise you're all at a very different Dutch level, so I'm not going to pay attention to any grammatical mistakes.
Prize:
The winner will get a personalized mini chapter. For those of you who don't know what a mini chapter is. It's a short "chapter" containing a vocabulary list (A4) + exercises, phrases + exercises and grammar + excersises. So if you win you can tell me what kind of vocabulary and phrases you want (for example, you can tell me what theme you want them to be) and you can tell me which grammar you want me to explain in the chapter (1 or 2 things max.). Only you will receive the chapter :)
Rules:
Anyone can join, so you don't have to be a follower (would be nice though 😁)
You can send it through an ask (not anonymously), a Tumblr message, an e-mail (e-mail in bio) or a post if you tag me in it.
At least 5 people need to join the competition or otherwise I won't go through with it.
Closing date: December 1 2017 (I'll pay attention to time zones)
Although only one person wins a prize, this competition is meant for practising your Dutch writing skills. I'd love to give feedback on your story, so please tell me if you want that.
I really hope enough of you want to join the competition. Please reblog to spread the word and good luck!
P.S. Your story can be literally about anything, so if you're not really a creative writer you can write about your hobby, something you've experienced, something you enjoy, etc. The possibilities are endless.
Could you please continue the 19th Century AU? I'm tormented over here! 😭
You must have a sixth sense, anon. I got your note moments after I opened the Google Doc. Good job! ;D
Need to refresh your memory with previous chapters? Do so here
19th Century AU - Part XIX
If there was any one thing that Claire was glad she’d done for the sake of her schemes it was save up her money. Every penny she’d been able to earn since she came through the stones all those years ago was saved for her Cambridge tuition, and now it was just sitting there waiting to be spent. Now that she needed a ticket to France she was able to secure first class passage for a mere thirty guineas, wine included.
The ride was long and the seas were rough. She wasn’t sure how Jamie had managed to do this; back and forth between Scotland and France considering his terrible motion sickness. When her feet were finally back on solid ground once more, Claire realized that she really had no idea how to get to Jamie from where she was. She regretted that the telephone was an invention that was only in its infancy at that moment.
“Need a ride, mademoiselle?” a voice called out in French and Claire turned in surprise to see a man standing next to a carriage, removing his horse’s feedbag. He was round and stocky, with forearms the size of her thigh, but very friendly looking. He had a smile that showed off a few missing teeth but it was still warm and Claire couldn’t help but smile back.
“Are you taking fares?” she asked in his native tongue, reaching out to pet the horse quickly on its soft, inquisitive nose.
“For a small price I’ll bring you to Paris. It’s too far to walk from here, especially carrying your case,” he explained. She didn’t have much time to argue before he was loading her things into the back of the carriage and giving her a helping hand into the back.
More jostling as they tumbled down the road didn’t give Claire much peace to come up with a game plan, but she had Jamie’s letters and from what he’d said his cousin was a well known wine merchant in the area. If she was lucky, she’d be able to find someone who knew him who could point her down the right path.
Her helpful chauffeur dropped her off in front of a small bakery cafe. Bistro tables sat outside of lace lined windows, the sun shining invitingly off the glaze of cakes displayed in the window. Deciding she could use some fresh food after her long journey, she went inside to collect her thoughts before she went on the hunt. She had thought to ask around and see if maybe anyone knew Jamie’s (and her own) family name, but was hesitant since she didn’t know what people were like here. Even in her own time the French weren’t particular fans of the British - and vice versa.
A server dropped a small cup of coffee and a flaky pastry in front of her and Claire smiled up at the girl graciously.
“Excuse me,” she spoke in halting French. “Are you familiar with a merchant named Jared Fraser?”
“Non, Madame,” the young girl said with a shake of her head and Claire tried not to let herself get disappointed. She was only one person, out of thousands. Surely she would be able to find one single Scottish wine merchant in a city as large as Paris, when he could be literally anywhere.
“Excusez-moi, Madame,” a man addressed Claire from another table in broken, heavily accented French before switching to English. “I ken Jared Fraser. Question is…who are you?”
Claire felt her cheeks blush under the gaze of the rough looking bearded Scotsman that was now making his way from his own table.
“My name is Claire Fraser.”
“Jamie’s Claire?” the man asked, one bushy eyebrow raising as he gave her a once over.
“Do you know Jamie?” Claire suddenly wished she looked more presentable than the simple burgundy day dress she’d been wearing for days. She nodded anxiously as her hand went to the lace of her high collar, adjusting it nervously.
“Course I do,” the man’s thick arms crossed in front of his chest. “He’s my godson.”