@venus270 Congratulations, U Were My 69th Follower LMAO

@venus270 congratulations, u were my 69th follower LMAO

Chat are we actually meant to believe that JJ is in love with Spencer? Like she had so many chances to be with him but she never did. Did the writers mean for it to like actually be a confession or is it just her lying to buy them time? Actually the most confusing decision in the entire show.

Begging for highschool icemav fics please 🙏🙏🙏🙏

Spent the last 5 hours in car with my parents thinking about butch Ice railing femme Mav until she’s loopy… but also them at a bar picking each other up

…Like they meet at a dyke bar (idk if they are still navy or not—doesn’t matter), Ice in work boots and jeans and a button down, rings on her fingers, hair gelled up, hard packing, sipping vodka neat at the bar, staring at watching this hotshot femme with dark hair in leather and lipstick who’s decimating everyone at the pool table and grinning with big teeth and Ice’s mouth is watering as she thinks about getting her teeth on that gorgeous neck.

Mav see’s this tall blondie drinking her in over at the bar and sticks out her ass a little extra as she finishes her last game, and decides to see if she’s about to get lucky.

“Hey Handsome, wanna dance?” She coos, stepping in between the butch’s knees when they part to make room for her to step in close.

Ice being flustered as fuck, much more used to pursuing than being pursued, shifts forward and snaps her teeth wolfishly at the femme while staring into her big green lined eyes. Then immediately blushes and nods and lets herself be led to the dance floor.

Mav is very endeared by this tall, hot, bitey, butch who’s pretty stiff on the dance floor, but also against her ass where Mav’s grinding back on her. Mav, thankful she put her high high heels on after reaching the bar and leaving her bike boots stashed in her Kawasaki, at the perfect height for Bitey Butch to graze her teeth along the tendons in Mavs neck as they sway to the beat.

“Do you need any help?” The woman almost growles against Mav’s pulse after they’ve been dancing for a little while.

“With what?” She giggles back, a little ticklish and confused but very horny with hot butch hands on her hips and the mouth on her neck.

“You figured it out yet?” At this point Ice is internally bashing her head against the bar, this hot woman has totally fucked her ability to form coherent sentences, let alone flirtation. But she’s in this now no matter who bad she crashes and burns.

She noses her way behind Hotshot’s ear, inhaling her sweet floral perfume mixed with, was that motor oil? Fuck, that shouldn’t be a turn on, but her fingers flex tighter into the leather that covers Hotshot’s hips, and pull her closer into Ice’s body.

“What’s that?” The dark haired woman arches her back and wraps an arm up to cradle the back of Ice’s head, where her face is still buried in the silky strands. Her blunt nails scratch at the short blond fuzz at Ice’s nape.

Ice nips at her ear. She can’t help it. Then she clarifies: “Who’s takin’ you home, Hotshot.”

Mav feels a tingles if desire run through her, she takes a second to bask in that, she grins to herself before turning around to face her companion, expression schooled in a cocky (bratty) smirk. First she steps back a bit, but not so far that Bitey’s hands leave her body, then she looks her up and down (spending ample time eyeing the strong thighs and hefty bulge), fixes Blondie’s collar, and bats her mascara-ed lashes. “You know,” Mav coos sweetly, linking her hands behind Bitey’s neck. “I think I can figure that one out on my own.”

Ice frowns. She’s just been rejected by the hottest woman to ever live. She’s gonna have to go home and in the morning when Slider asks if she got any, she’ll have to explain her total ineptitude to a fucking idiot man.

Mav, who thinks she just told a hot butch to please take her home, is very confused as to why Bitey has seemingly iced over, hands going to her sides and eyes downcast. In typical fashion, she goes with her gut: don’t think just do, and pulls her into a sloppy kiss. Again thank fuck for the heels: this butch is tall, and Mav’s only about 5’ 1”

Ice is floored by the rejection taking this turn, but instinct takes over and she kisses back, tasting the waxiness of red lipstick, bitterness of beer, and the heat of the woman herself. Fuck she tastes good and her hands are calloused against Ice’s jaw, but everywhere else she’s soft soft soft, either soft leather or lace or skin.

Hotshot breaks the kiss, letting her fingers tangle together with Ices short hair. “I figured it out, you know, that I’m gonna take you home. If you want.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere, Hotshot,” Ice breathes, way too honest and desperate for a first encounter.

Hands drop to Ice’s belt loops and tug. “Well, let’s go sweetheart, I hope you’re not scared of motorcycles!” And she turns and Ice follows her out to the parking lot, thankful she was going drink by drink and didn’t have to close her tab. Ice lets herself be pulled along as she watches the form in front of her weave them through the bar.

“Did you drive here?” Hotshot asks over her shoulder, right index finger still hooked in Ice’s belt loop.

“Nah, I took the bus, my car’s in the shop.” Ice replies a bit ruefully, she’d have loved driving this gorgeous femme home, one hand on her leather clad thigh, creeping up to the apex of her legs where she’s hot and waiting.

“Well then you’d better be okay with hopping on the back of my bike,” is the cackled response.

Hot summer nights, mid July

When you and I were forever wild