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thank you for the titanic spam uwu

no probleem cutiee xx

PSA:

Hey, there, this blog used to be salgrons, but for pretty obvious reasons, I’ve decided to change the url.

Moreover, this blog also used to be active but now it is not. Maybe one day I’ll pick it up again, but as of right now you can mostly find me at sargentwrites.

#important #salgrons #sargentwrites

sargentwrites replied to your post: [text]: I have a terrible feeling that I made out...

fun fact: one time i actually did text somebody about the results of my dollar tree pregnancy test lmaooo

I feel something that cheap can’t be that good.

Then again, £1 doughnuts are great so...

#sargentwrites #reply

“i’ve been in love, i went down that rabbit hole.” || “no, go fuck yourself.” || “do you feel manly now?”

QUICKARLEY (for @danverscanary too) || “i’ve been in love, i went down that rabbit hole.”

“But you’re not going to tell me anything about that, are you?” Puck smirks and takes a long pull of his beer in the time it takes Quinn to fully realise what he’s just said. He knows she hates the smug tone to his voice, and he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t use it more often around her, but it’s kind of worth it to see that hot look she gives when he’s really testing her.

Marley is out. There’s some show on or something, an event Puck really couldn’t care less about, and it’s one of the rare times he’s alone at home with the blonde. This whole weird trio thing they have going on is kind of mind-bending and with Marley it’s easy; Marley is soft and sweet and when she kisses him Puck is sure he’s reborn. Marley reassures him that it’s okay, that kissing her isn’t wrong, but he knows Quinn totally has a clit-boner for the brunette and it’s kind of a douche move to step in on that territory. Even if Marley is really fucking life changing.

But then there’s Quinn. Scary, angry, feisty Quinn who has more talent in one strand of hair than Puck could ever hope to achieve in a lifetime. Quinn who has, several times, quietly cleaned up after him when he’s stumbled in drunk and whose cool palm on his forehead feels like an oasis each time she checks in on his hungover ass. Quinn who he has totally caught looking more than once; even if she is completely, utterly, irreversibly in love with Marley and completely in denial about it.

He’s close to telling her that she’s still in love. That it’s obvious. That he’s about thirteen seconds away from locking both her and Marley in a room to sort it out because the tension is both irritating and arousing and living with these two chicks has been giving him the most confusing erections of his life.

“Okay, for real,” he starts and his eyes follow the pretty silhouette of her figure around the dim kitchen they share. She hums at him but says nothing and he takes it as his cue to continue, even if his attention is taken by her strong calves and how she holds herself up perfectly on her toes. “Love is dumb, okay? It really fuckin’ is. The whole thing makes you feel stupid and you do shit you never thought was possible. It’s totally lame but there ain’t a person on this damn Earth that can deny it’s amazing too. Unless, like, they’re those people that Marley was telling me about when she said I can’t call things that annoy me ‘gay’ or something. People who don’t fall in love at all –”

He trails off for a second in utter confusion, his brain working too fast for his mouth, and Quinn slides back into his space just as he figures out where the hell he’s going with this. There’s something in her eyes he can’t place but he’s pretty sure she’s mostly judging him.

“You wanna be in love,” he finally says boldly, fingers playing with his beer bottle. When Quinn moves to interrupt he holds his hand up firmly. “No. You do. Because it’s worth it. The damn thing makes you wanna scream and punch shit and kind flip out but it feels good too. Warm or whatever. Feels like you can achieve anything as long as that person is looking at you. Don’t cut it off. Love is really fucking lame but kinda badass too,” Puck laments before stiffening slightly, annoyed at how much of an idiot he sounds. He follows on his sentence with a smirk. “Kinda like you.”

PUCKERBRAY || “no, go fuck yourself.”

Watching somebody storm away was funny.

Watching somebody with a nice ass storm away was hot.

Watching Allie try and storm away on sand, in shorts and a bikini top, was a mixture of both and it was a struggle to figure out which he felt first. He wanted to laugh, obviously, but it was Allie and…Well. He’s kind of completely into her.

“Baby, wait,” he finally calls and trips over himself a little to start chasing her. He can hear her friends further down the beach as they continue their party and he’s pretty sure that they can’t hear what he’s called her. At least he hopes so. He might not care what people think but there’s still a reluctance to be the guy known for fucking his foster sister silly. Struggling in the sand, the native city boy calls out again to attempt to get her attention. “Allie. Will you just fucking…Fuck. Just come here.”

She stops a little ways down the beach and he sighs in relief; mostly at being able to catch her up without putting more strain on his calves as he tries to navigate the uneven ground. As he approaches he can see she’s still mad, still visibly shaking in anger, and he bites his lip in frustration. “C’mon, you know I prefer it more when you fuck me to when I have to do it by myself.”

The look he gets is almost worth the slap to his chest but his girl is angry, and annoyed, and a little red in the cheeks and he doesn’t know how to fix it without humor. They’d been playing some dumbass spin the bottle game and he should have known how Allie was going to react to him kissing one of her friends when she’d refused to kiss anyone on her go. When the bottle had landed on her Allie had taken a dare and he should have figured it out then. Should have realised she was saving him from having to watch her kiss someone else.

But he hadn’t thought like that and as soon as he kissed one of her friends Allie was up and storming down the beach before he could even think. He’d muttered an excuse about promising to not kiss her friends while living in the house and he hoped they’d all drank enough beers to believe his lie about why she was so upset.

“Before you say it I know you’re not jealous,” he rolls his eyes and puts his hands on the tiny girls waist, feeling her annoyance. “That wasn’t cool of me and I get it. She’s your friend and I wasn’t thinking, babe. Let me make it up to you. Wanna go under the pier and make out ‘til Steve tells us to get our asses back?”

Confusion coats his eyes when he watches her scoff and walk away again.

Fucking girls.

SEASON ONE || “do you feel manly now?”

He wants to roll his eyes when he hears that sultry voice but he can’t. He likes it too much. Likes her too much. Instead he turns around and looks at her in amusement as she struts towards him, skirt swinging over her thighs in a way that leaves his mouth completely dry and his eyes wide open.

“He had it coming,” is all he can think to come back with and she cuts her eyes at him, clearly believing what he’s said as much as he does, and he shrugs because it’s so much easier than having to think when he’s around her. It’s too much sometimes, he thinks. She’s too much. “You know he wants you, right? This nice guy act he’s putting on is just a front for the thing he really wants and I don’t like it.”

She tuts at him and he looks down, not particularly ready to listen to how nice Sam is, how patient, how kind, how he’s everything Puck didn’t get the chance to be and he rubs at his nose once with his knuckles while she talks. He’s actively aware of the fact that she doesn’t want him the way he wants her, that she moved on almost days after they slept together, and he doesn’t need the words drilling home more than they already are when he goes home to his daughter alone.

“I get it,” he grits out finally, while she’s in the middle of talking about how much of a better person Sam probably is (he’s stopped listening if he’s being honest), and Quinn snaps her jaw shut so quickly that he hears her teeth click. “I don’t know what the dude has said but it wasn’t anything big, alright? He pissed me off bragging that he was taking you on a date and I shoved him a little. I’m not sorry but I’m not an idiot either. Not gonna do something that’s gonna get me kicked out of school when I gotta look after Beth.”

He barely refrains from saying because one of us has to because that’s not fair. Quinn is trying. She’s balancing between being a mother and a regular teenager – even if she’s doing that and leaving him behind, he gets it.

“Can you go? Coach Bieste wants to talk to me ‘bout playing football again,” he lies and nods once towards the door. “Bye, Quinn.”