I promised I'd be good, but I can't help myself from these temptations. When they come, there's nothing I can do. I promised I'd be good; The road to h e l l is paved with good intentions. So when I fall, I will fall to you.
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would you please reblog this if you and/or your muse consider platonic sensual intimacy to be valid? if you believe in platonic kisses (even if it’s on the lips), platonic cuddling, sensual intimacy with no pressure to be sexual? – stuff like that? o~o
sorry I’ve gone MIA I know I have like 50 things to do but my sister had her baby last night and I have to take my mom to an appointment today but I will probably be back tomorrow. I’ll be mobile if anyone wants to plot though :-)
charlie was drunk, not something unusual, the unusual thing being that he was more or less completely off his face. the person before him, his best friend, was chattering on about a topic that didn’t interest the blond, his gaze instead fixed intently on their lips. ‘ i have no idea what you’re talking about, ’ he murmurs, his words all stringing together slightly into one slur. ‘ wanna kiss you. ’ he doesn’t give them much of a chance to explain, or tell him that it’s ( probably ) not a good idea, since he’s already leaning forward to press his lips onto theirs.
somewhere in her clouded mind she knows that he isn’t really listening to her, so she can’t help but to laugh when he voices his disinterest. before she has time to process what he had said next, the small sound of amusement is replaced with a quiet gasp as a small surge of adrenaline courses through her when he’s leaning closer. she's leaning forward now, too, even though she knows it’s not a good idea. with a small nod and the faintest “okay,” ghosted against his lips, she rests her hand against his neck and she’s not sure wether to focus on the bitter taste of the alcohol on his lips or the wet warmth that they provide. most importantly though, she’s unsure if this is supposed to be instantaneous or prolonged and she knows it’s wrong but doesn’t want it to end so she stays where she is and lets him decide.
“What are you doing here?” Sammy asked looking up at the other. “You should get going back to your popular friends before someone sees you talking to me.” he muttered, looking down at his hands, knowing perfectly well that if they were seen hanging out together it would stir up drama around the school.
“they’re hardly poplar,” she corrected and as much as she hated it, she knew that the other was right, “i just haven’t heard from you in a few days, i wanted to make sure everything was okay,” she spoke quietly regardless of the fact that no one was even paying any attention to them at the moment. it was risky talking to him in the hallways, she knew that, so she tried to be as discreet as possible.
‘ i have NO IDEA what you’re talking about. ‘ xavier assures him in a tone that was a lot more defensive than he originally anticipated. ‘ we only made out because i was drunk off my ass. STOP trying to make it a b i g g e r deal than it really is. ‘
‘ i’m just s a y i n g , it’s not a big deal. i won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re WORRIED about. ’ and he means every word. it’s comical, almost, how worked up the other is about this, but city knows what it’s like to be in his position, so he doesn’t comment on it, ‘ if THAT is the excuse you’re going with, then fine. alright. but it wouldn’t have mattered to me if you were sober, either. just so you know. ’
okay, he’d admit it. being caught walking through the carpark of a desolate old church in the middle of the night, shovel in one hand and torch in the other, wasn’t a particularly good look. even worse — halo had dirt all over his hands, and he’d clearly just come from the direction of the old church’s graveyard. suspicious? creepy. he had a logical explanation though; one he was about to expand one once he noticed a figure staring at him, until he realised that maybe they should explain too. he had a reason for being there, but what about them? “hello? what are you doing?” ( @graffitimajor )
it wasn’t often that astra would wander alone in the middle of the night but when she did she was exceedingly cautious; apparently, this time, she wasn’t quite cautious enough. she stood frozen as she watched the other walking across the carpark, hoping that they wouldn’t take notice of her presence. granted, her situation seemed much less threatening than the other’s with only a backpack in one hand and a can of spray paint in the other compared to their shovel and torch, her heart all but stopped in her chest as they acknowledged her. for a brief moment she contemplated running for the hills, but the risk far outweighed that of simply staying put, “i think it’s pretty clear what i’m doing,” she tried as she motioned toward the can of paint in her hand, “what are you doing–?” the question had slipped out, even though she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted an answer.
beckett: put that lip back where it belongs
beckett: well hey at least i don't send you pics of the girls i sleep with
beckett: she was a classy prostitute if that helps any