#I swear the description of this blog should be 'Why do simple when one can do complicated?'

[asmuchasidliketo]

Ten of favorite films

Self-tagged from @princessprouvaire​... and this was more difficult that I expected.

To avoid any kind of classification, here they are by year of (first) release.

Fantasia (1940 and 1999)

Paris brûle-t-il ? (1966)

Les Visiteurs (1993)

Philadelphia (1994)

Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994)

Erin Brockovich (2000)

Spirited Away (from 2001)

Daniel Craig’s James Bond cycle (2006 to 2021)

Wreck-it Ralph (2012)

King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)

Tagging absolutely everyone who wants to play!

[bucksangel]

A Love That Lasts

a/n: this is a REPOST from my old account @losaslut​ since i’m deleting that blog i’m reposting it here

Pairing: Hank Loza x Reader (non descript reader but if i missed anything please let me know)

Inspo came from this post by @withmyteeth 💕💕

Warnings: none except for tooth rotting fluff and so much love it’ll kill you

Word Count: 2.8k

Moodboard made by me

It’s nearing two in the afternoon, you’ve been cleaning and re-cleaning for about three hours now to distract you from the fact that Hank got called to go to the clubhouse. “It’s an emergency” is all he told you. Never mind that today is your anniversary, you’re more upset because it’s Saturday, a day both you and Hank agreed that nothing would get in the way of your time together. But, you understand, you’re always understanding. If the club needs him, then he’s there. But as understanding as you are it still doesn’t take away the ache in your chest from not having your boyfriend home with you.

Hence why you’re cleaning. It acts as a good enough distraction but you’re quickly derailed from your tasks by Bishop calling you, and concern is all you feel now. With the ‘emergency’ that’s happening at the clubhouse, your thoughts are spiraling, but the one at the front of your mind is that Hank is hurt, he must be.

You’re quick to answer the phone, fingers shaking and your heart pounding. “Is Hank okay?” You ask, demand really. You’re already shoving your shoes on before Bishop even speaks.

“You should get to the clubhouse, sweetheart.” Bishop’s voice is calm, almost melancholy, and you’re pushed into even more of a worry when the call cuts out.

You can’t help the tears that pool beneath your eyes, nor the shakiness of your hands as you fumble with the keys. Nor can you help the absolute dread in your heart at the thought that Hank could be hurt. He can’t be, your brain tells you, he can’t do this to you, not today. So, you rush out of the house, shoes untied, and make the ten minute drive to the clubhouse. Those ten minutes feel like ten hours, every red light only serving to aggravate you further, but it gives you time to think. Think, really, is not the right word. Worry is more like it. You spend those ten minutes worrying yourself into a panic, preparing for the what if’s.

And when you do finally make it to the clubhouse, you barely have the car parked before you’re tripping over yourself to run up the stairs and slam open the doors, searching frantically for Hank. You don’t find him though, in fact, no one is in the clubhouse. And if you weren’t in such a rush to get to your boyfriend you’d realize that none of the guys’ bikes are out front either. Looking around the room, your confusion triples. Hanging along the walls are fairy lights, meeting in the middle of the roofing to create a canopy that surrounds the lone table in the middle of the room. The lights have been dimmed, a single candle along with two plates of what you assume is Hank’s cooking (you’d recognize the smell anywhere) and an empty vase sit on the table.

You don’t have much time to figure what this could all be about before Hank comes out from the back, stepping into the light and wearing clothes he definitely did not leave the house in. He’s in his nicest pair of jeans (the only ones without grease stains), a simple black button up with the sleeves pushed to his elbows (swoon), and most notably: he’s not wearing his kutte. Now, you’re more amused than anything. It’s clear this must have been a set up, that Hank must have faked the emergency to set all of this up. For what, you’re unsure of. You could be pissed that he lied to you, pissed that he put you through the worry, and you are, sort of. Yes you’re mad that he tricked you, but you’re more in awe over the fact that he put this together for you, like something from a fairytale.

Hank is the first to step towards you, one arm is behind his back while the other reaches out to you. He takes slow and deliberate steps, and you take only one towards him before his hand grasps yours and you’re pulled into his chest, his arm wrapping around you. During this hug you recognize two things. One being that his heart is beating at a rapid pace, it thumps in his chest where your cheek lies. Two being that, with the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, you can feel flower stems. Now, it should be said that you’re not the most intuitive, but you’re starting to suspect this has to do with something bigger than just an anniversary date.

Before you know it, Hank has placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and pulled back to really look at you. You’re starting to feel underdressed in just shorts and one of Hank’s shirts tucked into it, but with the way your man is looking at you, you can’t help but feel like the most beautiful person in the world. Your arms travel from his back to smooth over his sides and run up his chest, one hand placed behind his neck and the other one fiddling with the top two buttons of his shirt that are undone.

And you smile, you’re smiling so wide it hurts but you don’t care, all you care about is how Hank is staring at you. So much adoration pouring out of him that it makes you want to cry (but you’re using all your willpower to not, you’re going to save your tears for the end of the night). When Hank pulls the flowers from behind his back, four light pink roses (one for every year you’ve been together), you laugh. You’re not sure what else to do honestly, you’re filled with so much happiness and love for your man that it bursts out of you in a laugh that Hank swears is the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Baby-” You’re cut off by Hank kissing you, not too deep, not what some would call passionate, but a soft and slow kiss that lets you know that he’s here, he loves you and he wants you to know it. When he pulls back, your head is spinning for a different reason, spinning with love and thoughts of wanting this to last forever, until the end of time. “What’s all this about?” You breathe out, the wind almost knocked out of you while your brain tries to catch up to the situation.

Hank’s smile widens, and he lets go of you so he can walk over to the table and place the roses in the vase. Turning back to you, he extends his arm again, and once you’re close he lifts your hands up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. And once again, you’re swooning, heart so filled with something you’re sure is greater than love. “You didn’t think I would actually leave you alone on our anniversary, did you?” Hank chuckles softly, kissing your hands again before stepping to the side and pulling out a chair for you to sit in.

“How long did it take you to put this up?” You ask, looking around at the beauty that surrounds you, still in awe of it all.

“Well,” Hank chuckles again, “It was supposed to take an hour at most, but you know how the guys are with getting distracted.” Both of you laugh at this, because it’s true. You wouldn’t doubt that Angel and Coco were probably causing more of a mess than actually helping. Hank sits next to you, and takes your hand in his again. “But I will admit, this has been a few weeks of planning.”

Four years together and Hank still knows how to take your breath away, he still manages to surprise you in everything he does. But you don’t get a chance to speak before he’s pushing your plate closer to you (not his BBQ for once, but an alfredo pasta dish that you’re starting to recognize as the same dish he cooked a few weeks ago, and then again last week (probably preparing and perfecting the recipe)). So, you don’t say anything, you both dig into dinner while throwing glances at each other like teenagers going on their first date, and it’s perfect.

Dessert comes next, Hank goes to the back again and reemerges holding a pie that he definitely made himself (he’ll deny it if you tell anyone, but he does happen to be a pretty solid baker). Through dessert, you’re talking softly about anything and everything. You’re both just happy to be close and together that you don’t bother with any heavy topics. At one point, Hank makes you laugh so hard you throw your head back and snort (something that’s never happened before you met your boyfriend (because that’s how happy he makes you, so unable to control your reactions)).

And when you look up at him, ready to tell him about your adventures yesterday while visiting your mother yesterday, your voice cuts off. Hank is moving towards the bar where, how did you not notice it, a stereo rests. He’s quick to press a few buttons and a soft tune fills the air. It must be something from a symphony, with how melodic and peaceful it is. He returns to your side to pull you from your chair, and you don’t even have time to think when suddenly Hank twirls you around and pulls you into his chest. And the next thing you know, you’re being twirled all around the room, Hank’s hand covering your hand that rests on his chest and his other arm wrapped around your waist.

You’re giggling almost the entire time, both of you gazing into each other’s eyes and smiles so soft that if anyone were to see you, they’d probably be sick with how in love you two are. The songs flow into each other, and you dance for what feels like hours (realistically it’s probably been twenty minutes), no words spoken besides whispering I love you’s periodically. When the songs finally end and you’re both dizzy from the spins and the dips, you both step back from each other and again, the clubhouse is silent. It’s not an eerie kind of silence, but a pleasant one. Being with Hank has taught you that you don’t always need to talk to be able to understand what someone’s feeling. And what you’re feeling right now is an emotion so overwhelming, you do cry. You’re not sobbing, just letting out a few tears from the happiness that flows through your blood.

Hank wipes away your tears, presses a kiss to each cheek, and whisks you away to the back porch where, again, you’re caught off guard by the sheer beauty of it all. More lights are strung up on various boxes and around chairs. The fire pit is lit and the flames dance upwards, filling the space with light and warmth. It’s not until you turn around that you notice blankets and pillows piled together to create a make-shift bed. In front of the set up is the side of the clubhouse, empty. Your thoughts as to what this could be about are answered as Hank steps away from you to turn on a projector that’s sitting on top of a crate, a laptop next to it. You watch as he fiddles with the machines and when you turn back, the projector comes to life, casting light to the otherwise blank wall. When the opening credits of Little Women start playing (because let’s be real, it’s a cinematic masterpiece and the scene with Jo in the attic makes you cry every single time) you don’t bother to wait for your boyfriend while you rush to the pile of blankets (and wow does it feel like you’re on a cloud).

If you could see Hank, you’d see the nervousness plain as day etched into his face, you’d see how his hands shake ever so slightly, you’d see how he gazes at you with a love that even he can’t quite wrap his head around. But soon enough, he joins you in your own little paradise. He wraps you in his arms and lays you against his chest and kisses your head, and you know. You know that this is what heaven feels like. Laying in your man’s arms, feeling his feather-light kisses placed anywhere he can reach, feeling his love radiating off of him and getting absorbed by your mind, body, and soul.

You’re maybe halfway through the movie when Hank shifts and reaches into his pocket (trying so very hard to be stealthy so as to not alert you to what he’s doing (he does, but you don’t say anything)). When you’re both finally settled and the movie continues on, you don’t even realize Hank is fiddling with your fingers, nor do you realize the sudden cool metal that slipped onto your ring finger. It’s not until a whopping eight minutes later (Hank was counting) that he pulls your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss onto your knuckles. You turn in his arms, leaning your head back and using the hand that he was holding to rest on his cheek, and pull him down to meet your lips.

The kiss is soft and slow, like you’ve got all the time in the world to just sit here and relish in each other’s love. You move to deepen the kiss and then all of a sudden Hank’s pulling back, grabbing your left hand again, and placing another soft kiss to your knuckles. Only then do you realize why he’d been so focused on your hands, specifically your left one. Because on it rests the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Small diamonds line a gold band, with a slightly larger diamond in the middle. It’s simple, and with the lights all around you it glimmers with every twist of your hand.

You’re too stunned to speak, too in love with Hank to express how your heart is ripping apart and is being replaced by everything him. You’re staring at the ring, mouth open and tears now heavily pouring down your cheeks. And when you finally get your wits about you, you scramble to turn and face Hank, straddling him and placing both hands on his face, eyes searching desperately to find any sense of humor, any sign that he’s joking.

But you don’t find any of that. You find tears gathering in his eyes as he leans you forward to press your forehead against his. His voice is soft, almost afraid to speak too loud and ruin the moment. “Amor,” He stops, taking a deep breath before speaking again, “You’re my everything, my heart and soul, you’re the courage I need to take on anything and everything. You’re…” He pauses again, and a stray tear falls out of his left eye. He pulls you back a fraction so he can stare deep into your eyes, one hand holding your waist and the other takes your hands from his face so he can kiss them once again. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. And I hope you keep happening to me for the rest of our lives. I’m pleading, make me the happiest man in the world and say you’ll marry me.”

Hank barely gets out the last word as you smash your lips to his, it’s a little messy, and you do miss his lips at first, but it’s perfect. You’re unable to sustain the kiss for long with how heavy you’re breathing, so instead, you peck his lips once, twice, and then one more time. And then you’re pulling back, and Hank will swear to the end of his days that you’re glowing, shining so bright as you stare at him, and he wants to make you feel like this always. He wants to make you so happy, he wants you to feel the love that he feels, the love that has consumed his entire being.

“Ask me,” You breathe out, lips curved up and shaking from the sob that’s threatening to burst. Hank looks confused at first, so you continue, “You have to ask me first, then I can say yes.”

Hank laughs, he tilts his head back to rest against the pillow behind him and looks up at you with the softest smile to ever grace his beautiful face. “I guess you’re right. So, will you marry me?” And this time, you laugh.

You’re giggling from the sheer happiness of it all, so much that you’re barely able to get out your answer, “Of course I will, handsome.”

The movie’s ended, but you and Hank are still lying wrapped in each other’s arms, content to spend the rest of your lives like this. And you’re hoping with everything in you that this love doesn’t fade, that you’ll be this happy and this in love when you’re both old and gray. But you also know that it won’t. The love you feel could never fade even if you wanted it to (and by the grace of god, you’ll never want to stop loving him).

And while you’re there, in your slice of heaven, you’re already planning the wedding in your head, too excited to become a Loza.

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Desperate situations call for desperate measures. #Writer Wednesday 21/04/21

Pairing: Dave York x F!reader

Summary: You're desperate, with nothing to lose you accept helping one of your friends in what looks to be a very dubious job and the man in charge intimidates you and owns every single one of your thoughts since you met him

Warnings: I mean is Murder daddy Dave 🤷‍♀️. Blood, violence, guns, swearing, descriptions of anxiety and panic and sexual innuendo. Nothing too graphic but let me know if I should note anything else, thanks

A/N: I blame my national public TV channel for broadcasting The Equalizer 2 a few weeks ago, now I have THOTS and reading many amazing Fanfics on this site it's making it worse. Another Pedro's character I'm fascinated by (and would gladly be railed by). This is my second piece for #Writer Wednesday thank you for this again @autumnleaves1991-blog 🤗 I’m super excited to read what everybody has prepared for this week. No beta’d, sorry for any misspelling and terrible grammar.

Everything that could go wrong went wrong.

Suddenly you’re walking with a pair of stupid high heels in a cold muddy path, there’s nothing but a few street lamps but this white fog surrounds the night like a thick cape blocking their light so you can see nothing, even the moon is invisible and above you there’s an only a dark immensity without stars.

Fuck, fuck, fuck you repeat trembling, this stupid silky dress and the thin shawl you wear doesn’t protect you for this freezing night. Stupid fucking dress, stupid fucking heels you mutter, your teeth chatter and you try to focus on the road and finding anything that could get you out of here without getting yourself killed. Your shoes appear to have heard your complaints when they snap and break and you almost fall down.

“FUCK!” you scream this time and instantly regretting it, you don’t know who could be listening. Now you can walk faster but the probability to lose one or a few of your toes is getting higher every minute that you expend walking barefoot through this dreadful place.

As an apparition, a miracle, you see a dim white light at the end of the road. You run, you could even smile if your face muscles were not frozen. You feel your tears forming warm trickles on your cheeks when you arrive to the phone booth. You haven’t use one in years, even thought they were extinct but now it is as if you had found God.

You open your small red velvet purse, so pathetically small that your phone couldn’t fit in it so you gave it to Tom, and now what? It’s inside his pocket, probably soaked in his blood. Soaked in blood of your dead friend. You stupid friend that got you into this situation on the first place.

“Whatever happens, if everything goes to shit, call this number” he had told you giving you a white card, a number and a name on it: Dave.

Your hands shake so much that you almost drop the card, but you place it on the small tray full of vulgar vocabulary and very graphic drawings inside the booth. You thank karma or whatever it’s up there that all your cards got cancelled last month and recently you relay on cash. A few quarters and cents, a few bills that you had stolen on your way to the club where you were supposed to do the jobwere all you had on your name now. And the rest, what you had saved, your clothes and the few luxuries you own; a book, an old picture and a plant, are gone, forever, they’re at Tom’s house and you know now that he’s dead and has botched the job you could never return to his home if you want to keep being alive. You stretch your fingers and take a deep breath before dropping the coins and dialing the number.

Please pick up, please pick up

You see the counter on the small screen eating your coins away. And you don’t have anything else

Please, please

“York”

his voice is deep, a slight tone of annoyance in it, logically because you’re calling at 2 AM

“Dave?”

“Yes, who’s this?” you shudder hearing him, you convince yourself it’s because you’re cold but you know it’s not. You’re thinking of the man that owns this velvety voice: brown dark eyes piercing you as if you were made of paper and he could read every little corner and secret that you keep

“I’m Tom’s friend, he’s dead, and now I’m on the middle of nowhere and I need help, please” you plea, your last words sound more like a little girl whimpers

“I’m on my way” and he hangs up

You’re left there looking even more scared and confused. You recoil to the small protection of the booth waiting for that man. That man that lurks in your dreams, that scares you and intrigues you and that has occupied every thought since you met him.

A week ago

“So, explain to me again, what are we doing?”

“You need the money or not?” Tom stops and confronts you in the middle of the road

“I need it, of course, but I want to know what I’m getting myself into before ending up dead or in jail” you say not moving until he is a little clearer

“We’re meeting with one of my boss’ men and he will give us something to hand to someone else in a place and a time they had accorded. And that’s it. You and I get paid and everybody’s happy” he says with a desperate smile “C’mon” he approaches you and squeeze gently your arms, he even bends a little to meet your gaze “you know I have many friends and I have proposed this to you, only you, haven’t I? Cos I trust you” he adds

“Because I’m fucking broke, Tom. The rest of your friends wouldn’t be as desperate as me” You blurt

“Okay, let’s meet him and if it doesn’t convince you, I’ll do it alone. C’mon, let’s not be late, he would not like that”

You nod reluctantly. You hope this dude would pay for lunch, you’re starving, you had some instant noodles last night and today your breakfast was the crumbs of cereals that Tom had left because he was too lazy to throw away the box.

The restaurant is clearly not made for people like you and Tom, the employees look at you up and down but when they’re about to kick you out, a big man approaches them and he guides you to a part of the local that is quite with a warm and intimate light. There’re a few tables but they’re all empty, the last one is occupied by a well-dressed man that looks at the both of you intently.

Your first thought is that he doesn’t look as you had expected. You were sure that Tom was involved with drug dealers and whatever the job entitled was about drugs, weapons or both. He looks like a middle-age business man, or a public agent. He wears a tailored dark gray suit, an elegant wool coat and he’s clean shaven, elegant shoes, expensive, you think. God, make him be nice enough so he pays for lunch

When you face him, although you stay behind Tom, your theories about the man crumble. His eyes, those dark brown orbs, are fixed at Tom and his defined jaw clenches, in a second his eyes are on you and you can’t stand his gaze much longer.

“Hi, Dave, I didn’t know I would be seeing you, I thought I’d be meeting Resnik as usual” Tom voice is high and shaky, so it confirms your thoughts; the man is dangerous even if he doesn’t look like it

“This is important, and you came accompanied” he tilts his head to you

“I thought this was a job for two” Tom takes a sit in front of him and Dave leans on his seat stretching his shoulders, he’s broad, strong, how did you think this man was no threat at all?

“You thought” he smirks and you freeze on your feet, is it too late to run away? “And what’s your name?”

You tell him, your voice sounds pathetic, a little too squeaky. He smiles and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue and suddenly every coherent thought that you could think is out of the window.

“Please take a sit” Dave appears to be a little bit more relax now, he crosses his hands over the table and smiles to the two of you “So why do you think you could be of service?”

“Well, it’s a club, a guy alone is usually a creep but if we go together we’re a couple, and they wouldn’t look at me if I’m with her” he chuckles and points at you

You open your mouth about to insult Tom and seeing that his intentions could be way more different that you thought. You’re not doing that kind of job

“Yeah” Dave agrees and looks at you up and down, he doesn’t avert his eyes when you look at him with you eyebrow raised. He’s not ashamed, he’s checking you out and he wants you to know it “It’s actually not a bad plan”

“I’m sorry, but whatis the plan?” you interrupt

“It’s simple, you and your boyfriend...”

“He’s not my boyfriend” you clarify

“Right” he seems to think about that for a few seconds, before he resumes the conversation “You two go to this club, there, you’ll meet the contact and you’ll give them this” he raises his hand and the big man that had previously taken you to the table gives him a black briefcase “There’re two things that are extremely important” He pushes the case towards you “one, you cannot open it and see what’s inside, I’ll know if you do. Two, whatever happens you must acquire the envelope that the contact would give to you in exchange for this”

“Consider it done, Dave” Tom reaches for the man and gently taps on his arm. You watches as the man tenses when he’s touched and if looks could kill...Tom would be dead on the ground in this very second

“I’m sorry, can I ask you a question?” you raise your hand and the tense moment passes when Dave looks at you and he’s smiling, actually a very warm smile

“Of course”

“You said whatever happens, what could happen? Who are we meeting?” you ask, Tom opens widely his eyes and kicks you under the table

“Don’t worry Tom, they are actually pretty good questions” when he switches his eyes to Tom, he’s back to that opaque stare that makes you tremble “I’m not going to lie to you, sweetheart” he sighs, the endearing term has made your belly turn and it’s not hunger, at least not the food type “this people are dangerous, and they could try to trick you into changing the terms of the agreement, or ask questions about me or any other thing, and you must stay put and seal the deal fast and easy. Don’t do anything stupid”

“Right... what’s inside the case?” you ask again, you try really hard not to avert your eyes, he has his eyes fixed on you, his gaze goes from your eyes to your lips and you squirm on your seat.

“I cannot tell you that” he shakes his head “but it’s something valuable, you have to be very careful with it”

“If we are caught by the police with that” you point to the briefcase “are we gonna be in trouble?”

He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest; you cannot prevent your eyes from admiring how the fabric of his clothes tenses around his muscles.

“You don’t have to worry about the police” he assures

“I feel you’re telling us not to worry about many things and I think it’s on the contrary we have too many things to worry about...with all due respect” you add, Tom kicks you harder this time and giggles nervously

“It’s your first time, it’s natural! I’ve done a few times, you don’t have to worry, you’ll be with me! right, Dave?” Tom slaps him on his shoulder again playfully and the man flinches and has a menacing look if you do it one more time, asshole, we’re going to die right here right now you think

“Right” he answers “Tom, why don’t you go with Kovac to the car you’ll use for the job, there you’ll have the phones and everything you’ll need to complete the mission” he says eventually. The big man, Kovac, approaches the table and stands besides Tom until he gets up to follow him.

You stand up too, thinking that the lunch is over.

“Stay, please” Dave grabs your wrist softly and you gasp when you feel his warm touch

“I-I” you stutter

“Don’t you want to eat anything? I sense you have more questions” he doesn’t let go of your hand, he brushes his fingers softly where you skin is thinner and you feel your pulse rushing, surely he does too

“Yes...I mean I could eat something” you sit, the rumbling on your belly confirms your hunger

“Order anything you want” he stands up and raises a hand towards a waitress. She rushes to the table with the menus while Dave takes off his coat and jacket, he raises his sleeves carefully and you are not aware that you’ve been staring at him the whole time with eyes wide open and lips partially parted, you’re completely dumb by his presence. He’s tall, strong and broad and you can’t smell his cologne and his aftershave from there and all you can think is coming closer to him and tasting his neck.

You look down the menu suddenly when you find that Dave has caught you admiring him and is smiling slyly at you.

“Anything you like?” he asks

“Yeah...I’d like...” you read as fast as you can trying to find something, the prices are ridiculous “the salad” you answer

“You can order anything, sweetheart” the term makes you skin tingle again, he’s voice is actually sweet and his smile docile this time when he sits again facing you

The waitress comes back and asks for your order but it’s smiling widely to Dave.

“So what you would like to order, sir?”

“We’re both getting the prime steak” he answers and you blush, of course you’d like to eat that but it’s so freaking expensive you didn’t even think about that

“Fries or roasted vegetables?” she taps on the screen

“Both” yes, you cheer inside your head, you’re going to eat properly for the first time in months

You actually don’t care about the job or Dave or anything when the plate arrives, and certainly you have forgotten about your friend, it’s been long enough but the scent of the meat makes your mouth water. You have forgotten your manners too; you attack the steak as if you were a caveman. The pleasure of the first bite makes you moan and wiggle or your seat.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Dave comments and you’re suddenly aware of where you are and with whom, he has an amused look

“Thank you” you say with your mouth full

“It’s nothing”

“I looked that hungry, huh? that’s why you ordered this?”

“Yes, you seemed to need a bit of protein. Protein makes you brain function properly and I need you sharp and quick if you’re going to work for me” he says picking from his plate

“You think I will work for you, I mean for longer than just this one job?” you scoff, you’re desperate, but you want to keep on the good track, find a proper job, a small apartment and stay out of trouble

“You don’t want to? I think you need the job” he licks his lips and you are again looking longer than you should

“Yes, but I need a proper job, a salary each month a conventional one. No offence”

“None taken. So you’re not like your friend”

“No, I guess I’m not. I’m just in a rough patch. Desperate situations calls for desperate measures” You shrug

“Hmm” he hums “I’m glad I can help you out of it then” he adds

“Yes, thank you. Though I’m still thinking that it could get me more trouble than I already have” you counter

“No if you’re smart and I think you’re a pretty smart girl”

“You’ve just met me”

“I’m good at reading people, part of the job” he shrugs

“So I’m a hungry desperate smart girl. Seems accurate”

“Pretty” he completes

“What?” you ask thinking you had heard him wrong

“I said you’re a hungry―I hope not anymore― desperate, pretty comma smart girl. Pretty as an adjective” he clarifies

You blush and look at him opening and closing your mouth searching for words

In that moment, Kovac and Tom arrive. The large man nods to Dave, and Tom looks at you and your half empty plate with a confused look.

“I have to go, but please, sit and finish your dish, you can order whatever you want too, Tom. Everything is on me. You don’t have to worry” Dave stands up and puts his jacket and coat back. You think you see a little bit of disappointment on his face. He reaches his hand to you, you drop the fork thinking that he wants to shake your hand but he brushes his thumb over your lower lip where a drop of the meat’s blood and sauce stains your chin.

“It’s been a pleasure” he says and then licks his thumb. He goes before you can answer and Tom is talking to you but you don’t listen.

All you could think was him, repeating that moment again and again in your mind.

“Are you listening?”

“Huh?”

“I told you about the car they gave us. It’s pretty cool”

You smile and focus on your plate, the juicy meat is delicious but all that passes through your brain is his lips. You bite and moan loudly.

Two hours before the phone booth call

The club is actually a house, a clandestine local in a remote place full of people playing poker and other types of game betting more money than you’ve ever seen. You and Tom arrive there holding hands, his left hand holding the briefcase. Tom had bought you your outfit, high heels that you don’t know how to walk with, a very revealing dress and the idiot forgot you hadn’t a proper coat to wear with this and here you are in the middle of winter with a shawl. Luckily the place is warm enough and you just suffered during the time you run to the entry from the parking.

The establishment smells like alcohol and cigars, its red velvet walls reminds you of the interior of a coffin and that image makes you shiver. You try not to look at anybody and focus on following Tom to the black armored door at the back. When you arrive he knocks twice before a small slot opens and a man asks for a password.

“Just like spy movies, huh?” Tom smiles and you would laugh but you’re terrified. Once that door closes behind you, there’s no way out

A large man dressed in black escort you through a red lighted aisle towards another armored door. This time he’s the one knocking twice, the slots opens and when a pair of eyes look through it you hear the locks being unlocked before they open it.

There’re ten people inside, chatting over a black table with some glasses on it. The conversation stops when you enter. Without a sign some of them are escorted out and only three men stay.

“Sit please, your girl can serve herself a drink” one man says, sitting at the center of the table. He’s dressed also in black, he’s blond hair sleek and shiny with hair gel “I guess you have something for me”

“Yes” Tom approaches the table and places the briefcase at the center. You do as you’ve been told and approach the bar full of different drinks. You’re too nervous to drink but you grab one of the empty glasses and pour some liquor in it. Your back is pressed against the sticky wood and you try to act casual.

The second man on the left takes it and opens it and shows it to the two other. There’s only one light in the room above the table and from here you can’t see much but it’s clear that the briefcase is full of money.

“Excellent. Did you know how much there is inside it?” the blond man ask Tom

“No” Tom seems relaxed, his arm leans on his chair and has his legs crossed

“There’s half a million here” he answers

“Wow!” Tom laughs

“For such a tiny thing” the man grabs something from his pocket and places a small white envelope on the table “Do you know what this is?”

“No”

And we don’t want to know you answer in your head Gosh Tom, let’s go

“Just an address. Somebody really valuable for your boss, look how much he’s paying. This poor fellow” he taps over the envelope “it’s nobody to me, that’s why I’m willing to trade this simple information knowing it will get him killed, but I have another deal for you, one that I’m really interested in”

Say no, no, we have to go now you clear your throat to get his attention but Tom ignores you

“You just have to let us track you to the place where you’ll meet your boss. And you can take the case back with you and I promise one similar to this one will find you once we kill your boss” he offers. Tom bites the inside of his cheek and hums

“Just track me?”

No, no, no you scream inside. You place the glass on the bar loudly but Tom is fixed with hungry eyes on the case.

“Let us install a simple tracking device to your car. And take this” he pushes the open briefcase “it’s yours”

Tom smiles and grabs it “Thank you”

“My colleague will accompany you to your car” the blonde man smiles back and the other man that reminded silent during the meeting gets up to follow Tom back to the car.

You walk to the table before they leave.

“I’m sorry, but he’ll need the envelope for the meeting. He cannot present himself empty handed, he will be dead before you could find his boss and they will make sure it’s the right one” you say shyly

“You’re a smart girl” the blond says “Here you are” he tends the paper and you force a smile.

You rush towards Tom and grab his hand. The man follows you a few meters away in silence. So you grab Tom by the waist and faking a smile whispers to his ear “What the fuck are you doing? Dave is going to kill us. You betrayed him”

“It’s a million dollars and they can take care of Dave for all I know he can die, he was paying a misery and I’m the one getting my ass in danger, don’t I?” he says back

“It’s better than being dead. And he’s going to kill us both and I did nothing, you betrayed me too”

“Calm down! I’m going to give you a part of this. Isn’t this what you wanted?” He has to raise his voice over the music once you arrive to public part of the club

“I didn’t want to die, I just want money to start again, not being involved in killing people and shit” you accused back

“Yeah right and it has nothing to do with you making eyes to Dave during lunch. Gosh, you’re pathetic. Shut up, take the money, and we will see each other never again” he pushes you from him clearly not caring to keep the being a couple front anymore.

When you arrive to the parking, Tom leaves the briefcase on the back seat. You stand a few meters away not knowing what to do. Tom is the only way out from here but you don’t want to participate in his treason.

“Open the driver’s door” the man says standing behind Tom

“Right away, brother”

Everything happens in an instant. You hear the gasp, the air leaving Tom’s body and his corpse hitting the ground more than the shot. Once the man raises the gun to you, you’re already running away.

You hear the bullets breaking the air and you run faster, tears running from your eyes but your bite your lips to prevent you from crying out loud knowing that he can hear you. Once your chest hurts and burns you stop, hidden in the tall grass you listen intently trying to know if he’s following you. And you wait. And you wait more.

You crouch down and you suddenly remember that you’re holding so hard to your purse and the little piece of paper that your hand hurts. You hold the envelope to your heart and sit on the cold mud because your legs cannot hold you any longer.

Present. Phone Booth

You think about the trip from town to this place and try to calculate how long it would take Dave to arrive. And it’s long and probably you’ll be dead before he comes even close. The men from the club must be looking for you. You’re a loose end, you know their faces and their place, everything. And you know Dave too. Shit.What are you going to tell him? Yes, Tom betrayed you but I didn’t. I actually didn’t want to do it, but did I prevent it? I couldn’t but what would he think? You’re a loose end for him too.

You know he runs shady business. And for all he knows you wanted to take the money as well and just was quicker on your feet so you ran away. He doesn’t know you; he knew Tom and he betrayed him. How could he trust you?

You need something, something to make him think you are true, that you didn’t betray him. And though you felt something in your little lunch together, he could just be playing with you or interested in a carnal way. God knows you had had very inappropriate thoughts about him too, but that doesn’t make you any less of a traitor. Pretty he said, pretty enough to be kept alive even though he doesn’t know if he can trust you? You don’t think so.

Whatever happens you must acquire the envelope he had said. So you open it. There’s a simple address on it:

8518 Rayburn Rd, Bethesda, MD 20817

So you expend the rest of the time repeating again and again. Until the pair of lights of the car appear through the fog. You hope it’s Dave and not the men from the club If it’s so I’ve expended my last moments alive memorizing a stupid address. Great.

The black car drives slowly until it’s a few meters away. You grab the paper and make a ball out of it and swallow it fast chewing hard. It’s horrible, raspy and muddy, but you know that throwing it wouldn’t do it as well as tear it apart. The paper needs to disappear; you must be indispensable to him.

You actually cry in relief when Dave calls your name and you run towards the lights. You actually don’t think your action but when you see his shape you run faster and hug him tightly. He’s warm and smells delicious as you noticed at the restaurant. He tenses at first but then he holds you back, gently patting your head and hushing you with calming noises.

“You’re alright, you’re safe now” you know it’s not actually true but in that second you enjoy it “Get in the car, you’re freezing” he caresses your arms up and down trying to warm you

When you get in the car, you feel as you have step inside the gates of heaven. It’s warm and cozy, the leather is the softest thing you have ever felt and everything smells like Dave. He gets in the driver’s seat and grabs something from the back: his wool coat and throws it over you and tucks you in it. He stays in silence for a few minutes and you feel yourself doze off when he speaks in a soft and low tone.

“So what happened?” he sighs and leans on his seat turning to you

“Tom was a fucking idiot” you spat and he grins “They offered him the money inside the briefcase for your location and promised him more money” you speak the truth, you know there’s no point in lying to him “He accepted and well, I didn’t know what to say, I tried to change his mind but it was too late”

“What happened to the envelope?” he asks

“I took it”

“Can you give it to me?” he reaches a hand and you see he’s wearing leather gloves, actually he’s completely dressed in black

“No” you say and you bite your lip

“You lost it?” he asks and you cannot read what’s going through his mind but his eyes are fixed on you, darker than you remembered

“No” you say

“You have to give it to me” he says and his voice gets lower, it should be menacing, it is, but you feel your lower belly twist

“I ate it” you answer

“You did what?” he looks surprise but you cannot tell if he’s mad or amused

“I remember the address” you take out one single finger from under the coat and point to your temple “I memorized it and ate it so you wouldn’t kill me”

Dave stays there in silence for a few minutes, and then smirks and chuckles

“Very good” he praises “You did very good” he reaches for you cheek and brushes his leather gloved hands tenderly “Good girl” his voice is low and deep and it makes you squirm under your cover, his coat, that smells just like him.

“You’re not going to kill me?” you murmur

“No, I cannot do it now, don’t I?” he smiles at you

“But what about when I tell you the address and you kill whoever lives there, what then?” you say, now that you’re warm enough you are aware of the mess you made of his car, mud stains everywhere, his coat is ruined “I’m a witness and now I know you’re about to kill somebody” you add

“You remember what I told you at the restaurant?” he asks and starts the car finally moving from this dreadful place

Yes, you called me sweetheart a couple of times and then called me pretty you want to answer

“I told you about working for me” he reminds you

“You want me to work for you?”

“Yes. I want it since I first met you, sweetheart” you actually surprise yourself once you feel that you’re smiling when he calls you that again

“You trust me? But Tom...”

“Tom was Tom, you are you. And I trust you to be smarter than he was. You have proved it to me, he failed the test he had to pass” you admire his strong big hands on the wheel and his straight posture that allows you to marvel at his features and his long neck

“What test?” you say after scolding yourself for looking at him like an idiot

“This test”

“This was a test? What?” you cry

“Not in the sense that it was prepared, of course. Those men were very much interested in me and my team, and I knew they were trying to get some of my men to turn. I have to test Tom before he entered the team for more complicated tasks, I had to know if he was ready, and he wasn’t”

“And why did you let me get in this?”

“That was his first mistake. Never ever” he points with his finger “tell another person about the job or try to get somebody on it without me asking first. I allowed it because I saw something in you. A hunger”

“Is that a joke?” you ask

“I guess” he smirks “but also true, you said it yourself ‘desperate situations call for desperate measures’ That was what got me on this kind of job on the first place. I liked you, I’d just hoped you were as smart as you looked and got out there alive. And you did”

“What if I don’t want it?” you mutter

“Hmm” he evaluates for a moment “Again, I hope you’re smarter than that and refuse the only chance you have. I mean, you have been evicted, all your accounts cancelled, you don’t have a family and the relatives that you still have you wouldn’t contact them even if you were dying, so, I’m the only thing you got, sweetheart”

“Did you investigate me?” you ask after a few quite minutes. He’s right, you know that

“Yes, I have to know everything if you’re going to be part of the team” he admits with a shrug

“I know nothing about you, or your team, how am I going to trust you?” you demur

“You will learn to trust me and the team once you’re trained” he explains

“Train? Who’s going to train me? and for what?”

“I’m going to train you. I’m going to train you until you’re what I want and what I need and in time; I think it will be a satisfying ending for both of us and this situation”

“What kind of job would I do?”

“Kill” he says simple and straightforward

You shiver at his words and hold tight to his coat. Do you really want to be an assassin? Do you have a choice?

He stops the car. You don’t have a house, you have nothing, only this, a dirty dress and a borrowed coat and the help of a man you’re sure could and would kill you without hesitation. And though, you have no choice there’s a side of you that’s dying to surrender to him, to let him make you what he wants. You desire to be his, you want to be what he wants, what he needs but not as his associate, not exactly like that.

“So what do you say? Do you want to be mine?” you squirm on your seat.

“Yes”

[northcarolinanative]

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥

TW: Substance abuse, underage drinking, angst, Rafe Cameron 

Description: Y/N Routledge is tired of the overbearing rules and protection from her brother John B after their father disappears. One night she rebels and goes a little too wild, and JJ is left to help pick up the pieces. 

A/N: I’m kinda nervous to post this... I’ve got ZERO idea where this came from, but it popped into my head. AND if we can’t tell by now, Im a sucker for a Brother best friend... Also I swear this blog has turned me into a drew stan, not that im complaining. I’m not trying to glamorized drugs or anything in this, don’t do drugs for any reason, pls. This is set before the season starts. If you are struggling with substance abuse PLEASE talk to someone professional that can help, that is the first step. I am not sure if I like this imagine or not, let me know what you think, it's definitely something different for me. As always... Requests are open. 

It was only one line. No one would even notice. It wasn’t a big deal. You had been drinking all night, this could not be any different. I stood up to walk away, my nose was burning, but I felt on top of the world though, I knew that. No one could knock me down, not even John B. That’s probably why I did it. He was treating me like a child. I know I’m his little sister, but he’s not my dad. If he can go out, party, do whatever then I should be able to too. 

So here I was in the basement of some Kook house. I was not sure who had brought me here. I felt alive, the rush of the drug starting to taking over. I walked back up the stairs seeing my brother and his friends. I made a quick line to the drink bar. There I found a few clueless tourons pouring some odd concoctions of drinks. I hoped I had moved away from JB and his friends without them noticing me. We were all friends really, Kie was the closest thing to a best friend that I had, but they all were overprotective of me, like John B. I just needed to breathe. 

I had apparently caught JJ’s attention when I came up the basement stairs. I had downed two more shots by the time that John B and the other pogues found me. A touron girl had helped me up on the countertop to dance with her. This was not like me at all, and the pogues knew that. Drunk me was quiet and angsty, I liked to pick fights, not make people stare at me while I danced on the table. JJ looked up at me first his eyes full of worry. I quickly turned away and looked back at the girl I was dancing with. She started dancing on me, while some guys yelled and called to us. I flipped them off grabbing the bottle from her hand and drinking straight from it, earning cheers from the crowd around me. JJ jumped up on the table with me. I  wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to dance with him. 

“Y/N. What are you doing? You need to calm down, come with us, lets get some fresh air?” He asked worry coating his tone.

I scoffed at him. “Really JJ Maybank is trying to kill my buzz. That’s new.” I looked around and spotted the other pogues steps away on the oppisiteside of the counter. 

“I saw you leave the basement Y/N. Do you know what they do down there?” 

“JJ, I was looking for a bathroom.” I lied. “Don’t baby me, you know I hate that.” I kissed his cheek before jumping down. I made sure to quickly disappear into the crowd. 

The others saw JJ move toward me but he turned around knowing he lost me. “JJ. You said you had it handled!” Kie stated. 

“Something’s wrong” Is all JJ said. “She said to stop babying her. She was in the basement. This isn’t like her.” He locked eyes with John B, who was seeing red. 

“We need to find her if she did…” He paused closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose., “she’ll crash soon, better us find her than some kook” 

I was in the middle of a crowd dancing. My vision was starting to be affected by the mix of substance in my system. I felt someone come behind me, their hand finding their way to my hips. I swayed back and forth. I felt their head dip to say something in my ear. “I know you’re a pogue, and I’m a kook and all, but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t” Rafe. It all started to make sense, he was the one who lead me downstairs, said if I was “sick of being treated like a kid” too follow him. It was all adding up, as much as it could. I turned around facing him. He looked down at me, with a look that said it all. The room was starting to spin, faster and faster, I was starting to wobble a little. I gripped onto Rafe’s arms for stability. He took that as a clue and leaned down. The next thing I knew we were making out, there in the middle of the dance floor. I didn’t feel anything for him, but I didn’t mind it, as much of an asshole he was, I knew that he had given me the coke. His hands were making their way down my body. He was practically keeping my standing. Everywhere he touched was like fire, I could feel everything, except the ground under me. Then he was gone. 

I opened my eyes to see Kie staring at me. Then back at Rafe. “I guess you liked the coke a little too much.” He said to me then looked over at Kie before walking away. The room was spinning so much faster. The air seemed harder to breathe in. I was just macking Rafe Cameron. What?

“Y/N! What the hell was that?” Kie exclaimed pulling you through the house and out into the cold air. I stopped and gripped the railing that was leading to the beach. “Come on! The boys are worried sick about you!” I just stood there gripping the railing with both my hands. “Y/N” 

I just held my hand up. “Can we wait for the world to slow down? It’s - It’s rotating so fast” I said leaning against the railing. 

“No. Think about that next time before you take drugs from a kook” Her tone was cold as she pulled me by the wrist to the beach. I stumbled onto the sand. The boys rushing over to us when they saw Kie pulling me behind her. 

“Where the hell was she?” John B was quick to hold me up, a worried look on his eyes, when I leaned into him for support. I was not breathing right. I could feel it. I tried my best to focus on the group in front of me. 

“Hmm. Y/N. Should I tell them or you?” She said crossing her arms. Her voice was cold too cold. I stayed quiet. I pushed it too far. Way too far. “Well I went into that big group of Kooks, and found our friend here macking on none other than Rafe Cameron” She paused, everyone’s eyes grew wide. “But the best part is that it was payment for her doing his coke.” Pope and JJ just looked at you with wide eyes. John B moved so that you were facing him. 

“You did what?” He looked into your eyes, looking for any sign that Kie could be lying. “She’s lying, right? You didn’t do that?” He shook you a little. Tears started to form in my eyes. I shook my head. 

“She’s not lying.” The tears kept running down my face. I couldn’t meet his stares. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know, okay?” I wasn’t lying. “I barely remember going down the stairs, much less why. I’m sorry John B” 

“Whatever. We’re going home” He let go of me and I stumbled a little bit. JJ looked at me, the others following John B, just as pissed. He had a look of pity in his eyes, Great. 

He walked over to me throwing one arm around my waist, and mine over his shoulder. “I’ve got you” was all he said. 

The walk back to the Chateau was quiet, but the tension could be cut with a knife. When we arrived back JB mumbled something about talking in the morning if I wasn’t still a drug addict. Which I deserved for the way I was acting. Pope and Kie sat on the pull out couch in the living room, watching as JJ walked me into my room, shutting the door behind him. 

“Do you want some comfy clothes to wear?” He asked. I nodded leaning against the bed. My head was starting to hurt. I had not thought of the repercussions of my actions at all, tomorrow would be hell. “Here.” He handed me clothes to change into. “I’ll turn around, but I’m not leaving, the last thing we need is you falling as splitting your head open” 

I quickly changed into the sweats and T-shirt that JJ had picked out. “There are some of your clothes in my closet.” I pointed. JJ lived with JB and I at this point, he had stuff in every room of the house. He changed as I sat on the edge of the bed, messing and picking at my fingers, a nervous habit that I had picked up somewhere along the way. JJ folded the bed down and motioned for me to get in. I laid down and he started to the door. “Wait “ I said. He stopped after turning the light off. “Can you stay?” I got my answer when I felt the bed sheets move and the bed beside me dip. I took a deep breath, I was laying on my back looking up at the ceiling. “Why are you being so nice to me? I was a total bitch tonight.” 

JJ rolled over to look at me. “We all have our nights. You don’t think I haven’t had my share of rebellious moments?” He chuckled. “Now I never did coke or macked on Rafe Cameron, but I had my moments, and I wish someone would have been there to keep me from thinking exactly what your thinking.” He said. His voice was soft. This is the side of JJ that we rarely saw, the side he saved for when it was absolutely necessary. 

“Oh, yea? What’s that?” I asked, rolling on my side to look back at him. 

“That your a screw up” 

I laughed at his comment. “I mean I kinda am. At least after tonight.”

“No. I’m serious. The only one that can give you shit tomorrow is Pope, that boy is a saint.” He laughed to himself. “You know me and John B have screwed up, even Kie with her year going full-kook.” He reached up moving the hair from my face. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Yes?” I said with caution. We were incredibly close. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or my body, but it was nice. 

“Why’d you do it?” A simple question, but one I didn’t want to think about. 

“I know why I got drunk and left the group, the rest, I don’t have an answer for, it’s all a blur,” I said. I felt so bad. I felt the tears starting to form in my eyes again. As I blinked they began to fall slowly, “I guess I am sick of JB treating me like a kid. He gets to run around and do whatever he wants. I help pay for the bills, we help each other,  we are equals around here. He still thinks he can control me. I love Kie, but she gets the same way like she’s my mother. I know that you all trying to protect me, I get it, but it feels like I’m being suffocated.” I let out a breath, It felt nice to finally get it off my chest. “Even you see me as just a little kid, even though I wish you didn’t.” I quickly covered my mouth. I couldn’t believe I said that. 

JJ put his hands on either side of my face, wiping the tears away. “Y/N, I haven’t seen you as just a little kid, in along time.” He chuckled a little at the comment 

“Wait, does that mean-” 

He cut me off. “We’ll talk in the morning when you have less alcohol in your system.” He placed a chaste kiss on my forehead. 

“You’re gonna have to get in line.” We both let out a short laugh before JJ pulled me into his chest.

[queenpersephonesgarden]

together through the dark (dawn is still a long way off)

Dream SMP, Rated G, 3.4k, chapter 1 of ??

Summary: Fundy's family is messed up and painfully complicated as it is, with betrayal and heartbreak and death separating them on too many sides of too many wars to count. He should be grateful the attempt to revive his father failed, that Wilbur isn't here to make things worse.

But he isn't. And that pitiful heart might just be their undoing.

Or: Phil tried and failed twice to bring Wilbur back himself. Fundy succeeded without even wanting to try.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Accidental Resurrection, therapy arc let's go, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, it's gonna take a bit for Phil and Tommy to get involved in this ngl, if the CCs ever have a problem with this let me know and it'll be gone, bro do you ever start writing a fic only for canon to start stealing your ideas, Canon-typical swearing, Brief description of injury, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit are Not Biological Siblings, but that doesn't mean Found Family doesn't exist, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF)

Can be read on AO3 (link will be in the notes)

The moon and the first of the stars had begun to peek over the horizon by the time they’d finally admitted defeat.

The mismatched crowd that had gathered for the spectacle of an attempted resurrection had begun the long trek down the Prime Path back to the Greater SMP, chatter finally respectfully subdued where before it had been badly contained manic chaos throughout the entire afternoon. Everyone seemed to have noticed the somber mood that had engulfed Philza, and had reined themselves in appropriately.

Fundy had lagged further and further behind, jittery with some unexplainable emotion.

It had failed.

The resurrection had been a waste of time all along, so-

He should be happy, right?

He was. He was glad Wilbur wasn’t coming back. He was glad to be spared from his father’s tumultuous presence for another day.

Hell, he was relieved.

… right?

But – But walking back, watching Ghostbur smile and murmur something comforting to the silly little sheep trailing beside him, seeing Philza’s melancholic smile, feeling the weight of Tommy’s pointed silence – it’s all suffocating.

If he follows for one more step, he’s going to end up saying or doing something he’ll regret.

No one notices when he stops tagging along – which is just typical, a nasty little part of his brain thinks – no one at all.

No one except for Eret, who darts a glance over their shoulder and almost doubles back, expression plainly worried.

Fundy quickly shook his head and shrugged, reluctant to disrupt the dejected parade and draw attention to himself.

Eret, Prime bless them, seems to understand without a word. They smile, nod, and carry on after the others.

Their door will be open later for him, he knew. If he came back soon enough, he’d even have someone available to rant to if need be.

Just the knowledge of that is a huge relief to Fundy. Eret always seems to get him when he’s in these moods, and even when they don’t, they’re always at least willing to listen.

Which is more than could be said for the rest of Fundy’s family.

And that wonderful thought is an excellent segue way into an immediate downward spiral. Fundy shakes himself hard to rid himself of the impulse to follow that down the rabbit hole. He predictably fails miserably.

Focus, dammit.

Except what else is there to focus on? The botched attempt to bring his crazy dad back to life?

Oh, hey, that’s not good for his mental health either. Great.

Fundy spins right around and starts stomping back up the Path without a single care how immature it might seem or who might see it, headed straight back where they’d come from.

He walks steadily across the glass carefully immortalizing the greatest disaster that had befallen the SMP so far, making sure not to look down for longer than a few seconds. He makes it back to the bizarre little revival shrine in record time without a host of noisy spectators slowing him down, just in time to avoid the slight drizzle the cloudy sky had been threatening the entire latter half of the afternoon.

He steps very carefully onto the blue and yellow brickwork, eyes trailing over the uncomfortably familiar little offerings placed all over like the world’s worst interior design project, before he reaches the middle and has to bite down hard on his cheek to prevent the litany of swear words wanting to escape his mouth.

Philza hung the sword on the wall, before he left.

Just- just put it up there, like it’s no big deal, like it’s a fucking prop, like it isn’t the sword he used to stab his son, Fundy’s father.

Nope. Nope, nope, Fundy isn’t okay with this.

He grabs the handle and pulls it down, and that’s as far as his planning goes. He’s left standing there like a fool holding his father’s murder weapon, heavily debating the pros and cons of either putting it down on the floor so it at least doesn’t look like a reward, or giving up entirely on composure and screaming and throwing it down into the ugly scar in the earth outside. Let it rot in the bedrock with the rest of his father’s legacy where Fundy will never have to look at it again.

But before he can decide which is the option less likely to leave him crying his eyes out to Eret later tonight, a gentle voice echoes behind him. “What are you doing, Fundy?”

Fundy straightens involuntarily upon recognizing that voice, and turns automatically. “Wil- er, Ghostbur?” He almost moves to hide the hideous thing behind his back, but Ghostbur is already floating there staring and that really would be the end of his dignity, so he just lets it hang awkwardly from one hand. “Why are you here? Did you follow me?”

Never mind the tiny stupid feeling in his chest, fluttering in excitement at being noticed.

Ghostbur hummed curiously, carefully shaking water droplets from the rain off of his steaming hands. “Hmm? Oh, no. I mean, I noticed you were gone and all, but I didn’t know you’d be here. I just came back myself, that’s all.”

Hope squashed. Fundy nodded with a hum of his own, face carefully neutral.

“So what are you doing?” Ghostbur repeated, and suddenly having an audience just makes Fundy feel very, very stupid.

His ears flattened against his skull as he stuttered a reply, “W-well, you know, I just thought, well I mean it seemed, it was just, I. Uh.”

Ghostbur tilted his head innocently. Fundy wanted to sink into the bricks under his feet.

Fundy holds out his free hand and gestured emphatically. “What are you doing here?”

Master of changing the subject, he is.

Luckily, with Ghostbur, it doesn’t really matter how dumb the change of subject is, he just rolls right along with it. “Oh, well, Phil and Tommy both went back through the Nether Portal to head home, so I didn’t really know who to follow. They were both a bit sad, so I gave them some blue, but Phil still looked upset so I- I thought maybe I’d come back here one more time, just to see if I could remember anything else that might help.”

Fundy didn’t even bother trying to disguise the bitterness in his voice when he snorted. “Well, that was a nice thought, but I doubt any memories you have of this room could make Phil less upset.”

Ghostbur smiled emptily, pulling a bit of blue out of one pocket to cup in both hands, and immediately Fundy feels awful. Being sassy to Ghostbur never feels satisfying or rebellious, just cruel.

Grimacing, Fundy glared down at his own bit of blue, too large and shaped like the world’s ugliest sword, tamping down on equally ugly feelings in his chest. “But you can do whatever you want, I won’t stop you. I’m just, glad you’re not planning to go through with an unannounced midnight resurrection to surprise us all in the morning with, or something.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Fundy blinked and looked back up. “Huh?”

Ghostbur shrugged and smiled nervously. “Oh, you know. Things change, given time. Places, people… decisions… you know? People change their minds all the time! Especially when it’s a really important or dangerous decision! And it usually works out just fine!”

It took a second for his meaning to get through. When it finally did, Fundy suddenly felt rather cold

“So, wait. You’re saying you… don’t want to be revived anymore?”

Ghostbur worried his tiny bit of blue between his fingers, shoulders slowly inching up towards his ears. “N- well- I don’t- I don’t think so? No, I don’t think so, Fundy. I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Really?

“Why would you need to be sorry?” Fundy asked, voice a bit too loud even in his own ears.

Ghostbur grew even more tense, his hands kneading the blue even faster as he ducked his head. “I just- well, I know Phil was disappointed, even when he didn’t say anything. He gets this look on his face when he- Anyway, Tommy was, was saying some things about Wilbur, and- that place I fell into was just awf- And, and I just- I just thought that-”

The ghost’s stammering became more and more incomprehensible, slowly fading out in that way it usually did when Ghostbur was starting to forget something.

Watching his expression become quietly distressed was painful in more ways than one, so Fundy cut him off. “It’s okay Ghostbur, you don’t gotta explain yourself if it hurts.”

If anything, his attempt at consolation only made Ghostbur more upset, dammit. “But that’s just it, Fundy! If, if it hurts for me, it must hurt so much more for everyone else!” He cradled his head in his hands like it hurt.

“Everyone was so excited today, everyone was working together, even after you and Phil had that falling out-”

Fundy flinched. He wouldn’t exactly describe being banished at sword point from Philza’s Arctic base without even a chance to try and explain himself as a simple ‘falling out’-

“-you still both came and no one was arguing and, and Eret was going to apologize and finally talk things over with Wilbur, and it was perfect but-”

Ghostbur’s face was wretched as his hands dropped, the picture of abject misery. “But it didn’t work, and that place was so empty, and I- I just don’t think I can do it, Fundy. I don’t want to go back there. I’m so so sorry.”

Fundy swallowed hard.

“That’s fine, Ghostbur,” and fuck, why was his throat so tight, why were his eyes stinging, “Nobody’s gonna force you if you don’t want to.”

The little ghost looks so pathetically grateful in that moment that Fundy has to turn away, has to look anywhere else lest something mortifying comes out of his mouth.

But his brain is a dirty traitor, so his eyes land back on the shitty sword, and all he can do is try to process.

Should he be angry to hear that?

Should he be relieved to hear that?

Fundy isn’t sure. He never really knows how he should feel, when Ghostbur is around.

On one hand, that’s his father, and a good day with his father back when he was alive was a day where talking to him – or arguing with him, more often than not – didn’t make Fundy angry enough that he couldn’t think straight for an hour.

On the other hand, Ghostbur can’t remember many of those days, good or bad. From what he’s said in the past, his memories of Fundy are all the scattered bright spots of their lives together; the day Fundy was born, the day they chose his name, their days in L’Manburg, little snippets here and there of jokes and teasing that had still been lighthearted, before a war and a presidency and a betrayal made all of their casual jabs carry jagged edges they hadn’t before.

Ghostbur is kind, and cheerful, and always wonderfully, terribly happy whenever Fundy is around to visit and talk to. A stark contrast to Fundy’s memories of the last few months of his father’s life, where the man was sullen, snappish, giddy and half-crazed one moment, menacingly calm and collected the next.

It’s an incredibly disquieting thing to think about, so Fundy doesn’t very often. Now, of course, he can’t help it; standing here, in this macabre, borderline cartoonish little shrine filled with all of the things that slowly drove the man into the grave, it’s impossible not to think of all the things that make the ghost of him so much better. And so much worse.

Because Ghostbur isn’t his father, and that is equally both a blessing and a curse.

Every conversation he has with Ghostbur just leaves Fundy feeling frustrated and a bit guilty, the two emotions spinning a waltz right in the middle of his guts until they’re twisted into knots.

Ghostbur’s entire existence is frustrating, but even in Fundy’s worst moods, he’s never wished ill on him.

In the end, all of these feelings of betrayal and heartbreak and anger are all Fundy’s alone to remember.

And that’s totally fine.

Yep.

Ghostbur was never actually involved with any of Fundy’s worst memories, so it wasn’t his job to try and fix anything between them.

It’s just on Fundy to deal with it.

And he can definitely do that.

Definitely.

Just, maybe some other time or somewhere else, far away from the stone that had once been stained with his father’s blood, with his literal murder weapon not in his hands.

Staring down at it right now is not doing Fundy’s emotional state any favors, thanks.

He breathes out unsteadily, holding the damn thing out horizontally with both hands, rather tempted to do- something unpleasant to it.

“Fundy?” Ghostbur asks from too close and very far away, voice echoing with confusion and worry. “Are you okay?”

But Fundy isn’t really listening.

He doesn’t want to accuse Ghostbur of anything when he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. Arguing with Phil accomplishes diddly-fucking-squat.

But maybe-

He’s not really sure what he intends to do in the moment his grip tightens – the loud, stupid traitor part of his brain that always insists he yells louder during an argument to get his point across (as if anyone would actually listen) is clamoring for him to snap it over his knee like a twig, never mind how impossible that is with literal diamond – but it doesn’t really matter.

He is abruptly reminded why it is a rather bad idea to grab a sword by the blade end without reinforced gloves.

“Ah! Hell!”

Fundy curses vehemently under his breath, relaxing his grip quickly before he can do something even more stupid.

And then-

“Oh.”

He says it so softly.

Not scared, or sad, or panicked.

Ghostbur approaches and sees blood welling in between Fundy’s fingers, and he blinks like he just took a wrong step in a dark tunnel, and finally realized which way home was.

Blood drips down Fundy’s fingers and on to the sword, carving a path down where his father was run through, and drip-drops onto the ground still stained blue with evidence of a failed resurrection.

“Oh,” Ghostbur repeats quietly, and blinks out of existence.

“Wha-?!” Fundy jolts in surprise, which, ow, fuck, nearly slices his damn fingers off. He flings his empty hand further away from the diamond blade’s razor edge-

-just in time for Ghostbur to flicker back into view.

“Jesus Chr- dude! Hasn’t Tommy ever told you not to go invisible without warning like that?!” Fundy has to remind himself not to yell, because the ghost of his father he might be, he doesn’t actually want to start a fight right now.

Ghostbur doesn’t start stammering apologies immediately, doesn’t rush forward with a little bit of blue bandage to help Fundy feel better, doesn’t mumble in worry about forgetting something again because someone got hurt.

Maybe any of those should have been the first clue.

But Fundy doesn’t notice those clues right away, grimacing down at his bloody hand and looking for somewhere to put the damn sword that isn’t on the rack like some terrible trophy or on top of a stack of dynamite (why would they choose dynamite of all things to symbolize his father his traitor brain demands, why did Philza allow that, he should know better than anyone that guitars and books and warm sweaters would have done the trick of luring Wilbur in, that they had always made dad happiest back when he was younger and happier and not clawing at the walls of a tunnel and threatening to blow up the home he’d founded and built for himself and his friends and Fundy-).

“What?”

Fundy half spins, still looking for a suitable place to put the stupid fucking sword, looks up-

- sees a tall silhouette and his vision blurs for just a second; he blinks hard, shakes his head-

- does a double-take and freezes.

At the first glance, he was exactly the same as he was before; bright yellow sweater stained blue in a gruesome approximation of the fatal wound that took his last life over plain black pants, hair hidden by a beanie older than Fundy has even been alive, pale like snow with circles dark enough to be bruises underneath his eyes.

He was the same as he always is, except not anymore, because Fundy can actually see him. And he’s standing.

Not see through him. Not at a dull, washed out copy of the man that made a rather poor show of raising him. Not floating just slightly above the ground like he should be.

That’s not Ghostbur at all.

Fundy sees Wilbur, eyes wide and face entirely slack with shock, with skin flushed just slightly with color rather than lifelessly white.

He’s standing right there where Ghostbur used to be, not transparent, not desaturated,  not- not dead.

Is he dead? He should be. Why is he not-?

For one silent moment the world stands frozen on the edge of a knife, the two locked in a disbelieving staring contest.

Fundy blinks first. The man that should be a ghost is still not see-through, and full of more color than he should be.

The world has utterly ceased to make any sense.

Fundy’s fingers went numb.

Metal clanged unnoticed as that awful, ugly sword bounced off a brewing stand and hit the ground, splashing unremarkably into a puddle of mud.

Dead silence is left in its wake, broken only by the patter of rain that is suddenly so very far away.

Wilbur swayed a little on his feet. His face slowly contorted, warping Ghostbur’s final expression of gentle surprise into quiet, pained horror. His hands rose to press shaking fingers against his middle, where the appalling reminder of his violent end had always freely dribbled blue down his front like paint.

Fundy gaped back in response, ears ringing, heart pounding too fast and painful in his ribs, black spots eating at the corners of his vision- what is- why-

A slow, startled inhale became a choked, ragged gasp.

The specter that might have been a man stumbled.

Hurt and betrayal, anger and hatred; it all tumbled right out of Fundy’s spinning head.

One unsteady step forward-

- Wilbur’s knees buckled-

-and Fundy ran.

-.-.-

Miles and miles away in a place too dark too small too quiet, the walls glittered sickly in the light of magma sluggishly dripping over the only exit; a sticky, uncomfortable heat flooded the room only to be sucked away by the volcanic glass encasing it.

The room was utterly barren except for two things; a chest, and the resident seated upon it.

A lone young man sat hunched forward in the not-light of the lava-reflecting obsidian and stared blankly at the dark, dark walls around him.

Too still.

Too stiff.

Too quiet, quiet, quiet for far, far too long; all day, every day, ever since his favorite visitor had escaped and he’d been left all alone with nothing to play with again.

If someone were to look in at him, they might not even think he was breathing. Perhaps they would question, then, what the point was of such an elaborate cell for nothing more than a corpse.

But then-

-cold diamond slice through skin, warm blood drip-drip down, death become life again-

a movement, finally.

The young man’s blond head jerked upright, like a shock, like it was the first time in a long time that he had blinked awake.

His hungry green gaze swept his cell and fixed on the death trap that should have been a door, beyond even that, past weeping obsidian walls and wide empty fields, past the broad stretch of a long, long road to a country now lay in ruin, to a room of broken walls painted with the hope and suffering of the fathers and sons of one particular family.

For the first time in weeks, the young man’s eyes came to life with something beyond sheer boredom.

For the first time in an age, the god hidden under his skin did the same.

Dream and the shadow that shared his name stared wordlessly at the strange family reunion for one long heartbeat, then two.

Neither blinked.

They just tilted their head, curiosity personified; the closest either would come to admitting some semblance of surprise.

“Huh.”

[intruality-overlord]

Why Are We (Best) Friends?

Warnings: excessive swearing, alcoholism, mentions of drugs, drug use, suggestive humor, implied sexual content (no smut), some gore descriptions. Generally, Remus stuff.

Taglist: @blogging-time @veraisnotfine @littlestr @jessibbb @broken-pens @hi-its-tutty @idkanameatall @moxiety--sanders101 @theyluna-womoon

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! Updates every Wednesday/Thursday. Get ready for fighting...

Chapter Five: Fuck You

The Present.

“How much do you remember?” Remus nagged the next morning as Patton bustled around his room getting dressed.

“I wasn’t black out drunk!” Patton retaliated, “I remember everything.” Patton wasn’t, and he’ll say it again, not a lightweight. No. Not that the thought offended him in any way shape or form. “I mean, it’s fuzzy, but still,” he mumbled into his shirt as he pulled it off over his head.

“So… Logan knows and now probably the others…” Remus clutched the rumpled bed sheets, his eyes stretched wide to accommodate all his stress. Waiting for the floorboards to open their jaws and swallow him, chew and spit him out again, he stared at it expectantly. He’d rather bleed to death from splintery teeth than deal with this right now, and he wouldn’t have to if he resembled mashed potatoes. This fucking stress. This guilt.

“I’m over thirty years old! It’s normal, having a drink with a friend!” Patton dismissed with a wave of his hand, swatting Remus’s very real, very valid concerns away. Not entirely unusual. That is, if they were talking about something as trivial as why Mother Nature created hyenas the way she did. Poor things, childbirth was already messy enough.

“They shouldn’t be so shocked. Now where’s my—” Patton whisked around the room looking for a change of clothes, and Jesus, he needed to clean his room. He found his one clean polo wedged behind his wardrobe. Remus thought he was entirely too concerned about clothes when everything had been fundamentally fucked up yesterday. Clothes were overrated, anyway.

“Why did you…?” Remus couldn’t help but ask. Trying to make sense of things was a new hobby of his. He was still an amateur. Patton pulled his fresh polo on, and Remus tried to ask again hoping he’d succeed with one less distraction.

“Why did you admit we’re friends to Logan?”

Patton just looked at him like he was crazy. Crazier than he thought. “Because we are? I had just been talking about how I need to stop pretending we're not friends. Do you really think I’d go back on my word so quickly?” He said incredulously. “Hey, I think I left my hoodie under the bed again. Could you pass it?”

Remus did retrieve the garment from beneath the bed, checking there were no cobwebs or spiders on it. Then he held it, frozen. Remus rivalled Virgil when it came to thinking of worst case scenarios, only Remus wasn’t normally scared by them. Now… Remus knew he’d someday ruin everything for Patton. Ruin it like he ruins everything. That’s what happens when you’re the embodiment of bad ideas. It’s not fun anymore when he’s ruining something, someone, he actually cares about.

He just wanted Patton to be happy…

Hands rested on his shoulders, comforting and solid. “Look at me,” Patton hushed. Remus did.

Since when did his eyes twinkle like that?

“I don’t regret it, Remus,” Patton said sternly. “I can’t afford to spend every sober moment regretting everything.” Patton smiled. “I want good memories, however few.” His eyes crinkled in that simple, rare way you’d hope to see well worn into his skin one day. That private smile was for Remus.

Patton gently took the hoodie and wrapped it around his shoulders like a cape. “I’m gonna need some tequila for this.”

Oh god.

(}ï{)

Now how was Patton supposed to break the news? He chickened out at breakfast, and he chickened out at lunch, now it was dinner. There was chicken on the table and no room for more than one. God, it felt like coming out of the closet all over again. Think, what would Remus do?

“I’m not a virgin,” Patton blurted.

Oh yes, very subtle.

Cutlery clattered and clanged combined with collective choked coughing.

That didn’t quite come across how he had wanted it to. Perhaps Patton was drunker than he thought and he didn’t need that extra liquid courage right before dinner after all. He had been aiming for tipsy, like usual, when he had taken a few shots this morning.

(He didn’t know how to get through a whole day entirely sober anymore. Wake up, get dressed, have a couple shots, brush your teeth, have breakfast— it was routine. When sober, he hardly had the energy to maintain his act, but when tipsy, he was just delirious enough for his insanity to come across as jovial joy.

Yes, that did mean Patton was living with a constant hangover.

And no, he could not find the strength to care.)

Perhaps he had overshot it with his nerves making him lose count.

All well, it served the same purpose.

Last time, anyway, Patton had just blurted that he thought guys were attractive, and it turned out fine. (Which went something along the lines of:

“Boys are hot.”

“Duh.”

“They are indeed glorious creatures.”

“I can confirm that that is a factual statement.”)

Why should it work any different this time?

Wait, why is no one saying anything?

Patton looked around at his fellow sides, and they all looked like they saw a creepy crawly death dealer sitting comfortably on his head.

“Did you hear me?”

As their brains caught up, Virgil and Roman both spluttered, “What?!” There was another brief silence before the information caught up to Logan, and he too followed with a small, “What?”

Bewildered, Virgil and Roman’s heads snapped around at Logan. “You mean— you didn’t…?”

“No,” Logan said, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought I dreamt what I saw yesterday,” Logan eventually said. All of the colour was drained from him. “Yeah, I know, so surprising how articulate I can be when I’m drunk,” Patton half joked defensively.

“Do you know what virgin even means, Patton?” Roman asked slowly, hoping this was one of Patton’s hilarious misunderstandings. Patton sighed. “It means someone who hasn’t had sex before. And I have. So I’m not,” he said, beginning to curl in on himself. He felt trapped like an insect enveloped in a water droplet, not strong enough to break the surface tension.

“With you always expecting me to be honest I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so surprised when I actually am,” Patton observed bitterly. Something about the mention of truthfulness struck a nerve in Virgil, resulting in a false epiphany. “Deceit?” Virgil said sceptically. The glare pressing on Patton made him feel like he nearly lost his footing despite not moving an inch.

“Wha— no, I'm not Janus!” Patton said incredulously. “Not that being Janus is a bad thing,” he added under his breath. Patton wouldn’t be offended to be compared to Janus under normal circumstances. However in this situation, he was put off by the negative connotations Virgil was associating with Janus.

“That sounds like something Deceit would say,” Roman mused.

“Oh, you want proof? Fine! Janus!” Patton summoned. A very discombobulated Janus appeared, much to the others’ surprise. “I know exactly what’s going on,” he lied.

“You are Janus, I am Patton, correct?” Patton snapped. “...No?” Janus said, utterly confused. Slightly scared too.

“See?” Patton pleaded. Meanwhile, Janus glanced around at everyone else’s faces screwed up in confusion and some other indecipherable glob of emotions Janus deemed safe to assume as anger. “Jesus, good luck,” he muttered to Patton, and he promptly sank out.

“We just never thought— you always were so pure—”

“Because that’s what was expected from me!” Patton heaved a breath, pushing back his tears. “I committed adultery! There! I said it— and no, I don’t mean adulthood,” he announced. Those words felt like screaming in a claustrophobic space. Stretching, stuffed into a suitcase, and feeling the unforgiving, unrelenting walls. It felt like breathing in the vacuum of space.

“I knew as soon as I broke that perfect, innocent image of me you have, you wouldn’t react well. And guess what? You’re acting exactly like I expected you to!” He screamed. With another sharp, trembly breath, he vented all his frustrations out to people other than Remus for the first time.

He lost it.

“You’ve always treated me like a fucking child even though I’m the oldest. Telling me to shut up and let the adults talk, and this is a grown up conversation, or oh, you wouldn’t get it Patton even. Always sheltering, patronising me as if I’m not over thirty fucking years old,” a lump formed in his throat. “I’m Thomas’s heart. Where do you think his feelings of lust come from?!” Miserable strings of choked back words wound up like a ball of yarn into an incomprehensible howl that tumbled out of Patton.

“When I learnt what repression means, it sounded like something that perhaps wasn’t the best thing for me to keep doing, an-and I thought you’d want me to stop. That you’d be happy for me if I did,” he whimpered.

“W-we did! We are!” Roman quickly jumped in. “It’s just… just not— you… um, listen Padre, uh we,” he faltered. Looking to Logan for guidance, they just found him lost in his head, eyebrows scrunched, grimacing.

“Hold on, if it wasn’t us then it had to have been a dark side,” Virgil finally realised. Roman gasped, and Logan grimaced harder.

“I’m also an alcoholic?” Patton said in an attempt to quickly distract. It distracted them alright, only their reactions were just as bad or worse. It sent them all into a senseless squabble.

“So there was no consent then?” Virgil spoke up, mildly horrified.

What the fuck did he just hear?

Jaw slacked, breath fumbling, all Patton could hear for a moment was his thudding heart before a feeble, “Of course there was,” escaped him. “I can think for myself I-I-I’m not a child I…” And he looked like he'd just been stabbed, they saw. Between his ribs, the knife twisted, locking the blade in and exuding pressure. Because no, they’re not letting his blood spill. Can’t have carpet stains now, can they?

“He must have been manipulating you. Making you valuable with— with drinking and taking advantage of you,” Virgil said, seeming almost concerned for him. “He’s a dark side, he can’t genuinely care about you. It’s the only explanation,” Roman agreed rather bluntly.

His ears must be broken.

Patton’s eyes glistened. “How could you say that?” The watery wimper scraped his throat. “He’s my friend.” Patton wouldn’t let a tear fall; he refused. Only his true friends were allowed to see him that valuable.

“This— this isn’t— please just listen, please! I just wanted to be more honest with you all, an-and I was hoping yo-you’d accept our friendship…” Patton finished lamely.

“He is a dark side, Patton,” they said. “We are your friends,” they said. “We are the ones who really care about you,” they said. Lying was wrong, they had said. Hypocrites.

Mouth helplessly clamped shut, his thoughts ricketed around his skull like a brick in a washing machine. He wouldn’t have had to resort to alcoholism if they hadn’t made him bottle his feelings. Remus would never hurt him, he’s a good friend! Patton has been by his side when Remus was so fucking high, he didn’t even recognise him, and not for one moment did he even consider hurting him in any way! Remus cares. Maybe this whole thing was one big mistake. Patton always belonged with the others, not Virgil. And if Virgil had already made the switch over, then it was his turn. Patton had thought, hey, maybe I’m wrong. They’re my friends; they love me. But he was wrong. Stupid, nieve Patton being wrong, who knew.

Remus wouldn’t treat him like this.

Reverting to his last resort, Patton pleaded, “How can Thomas love himself if he can’t accept himself? If you can’t accept us?”

Completely unmoved, they held up their hands to address him as a scared, dumb animal. Their voice tweaked into a tone used for gently scorning a toddler, “It’s okay, Patton. It’s not your fault he’s manipulated you. We can help. He doesn’t have to use you anymore, we can do this together—”

“F-fuck you. Fuck. You. Bastards.”

As he sunk down, Patton called back one last thing, “By the way, Roman.

I fucked your brother.”

(}ï{)

Why? Why, why, why, why, why— It’s all Logan could think the whole time. It just didn’t compute, no matter how valiantly he tried to understand. Why why why why why?!

Next Chapter:

[subconwell]

Title: Insufferable Relationship: Snatcher/The Conductor Description:  Due to a mishap on set (and a spur of the moment contract), the Conductor finds himself working alongside Snatcher. There's more common ground than they expected, which only makes their budding relationship more terrifying than it should be. Word Count: 2,786

My first Snatchductor fanfiction, with multiple chapters to boot! If you enjoy it, please feel free to leave a comment and kudos here on its AO3 page!

I’m going to also put it up on my blog for people that prefer to read fics that way.

Chapter One: Bargain Bin Deal

It was, by all accounts, a stunt gone wrong.

The Conductor, by nature, is overly ambitious. When that’s paired with his tendency to be stubborn, that’s just a disaster waiting to happen. He strives for every movie to be bigger and better, especially as far as the Bird Movie Awards are concerned. Sure, he may find ways to rig the system, and yes, he hasn’t been known to play fair. This year would be different. The entire incident with the small hat child only reignited his desire to win through his stunts, his ideas, and most of all, his bloody train.

Of course, that’d be more helpful if there was a bloody train to use―even now, the Conductor can’t tell what started the whole mess in the first place. His first instinct, as always, is to blame everyone around him for it. An Express Owl messed up the bomb’s timer, the owl in charge of pulling the stunt off hesitated, the owls brought him the wrong kind of bomb to use, every excuse in the book that absolved him of blame. He knew the truth, though: he, the director, made a gross oversight, and now there is no train to work with. Not for the movie, and especially not for his main line of work: conducting the only train on the entire planet.

Luckily, it’s still the weekend. He’s made up an excuse for why the train isn’t running, but there aren’t any owls (that he’s not using for his current movie, of course) heading to work until the week starts over again. The owls who witnessed the explosion were threatened not to tell a soul, of course, so most of the population doesn’t know.

Yet.

What a disaster of a word that is, he thinks to himself, nearly stumbling over an exposed root. Where is he, anyway? The Conductor swears he was just at the bar, drinking his sorrows away and vaguely lamenting. Maybe he a wrong turn on the way home somewhere? He’s been so lost in his own thoughts that, admittedly, he was not paying attention to where he was headed. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. There’s no train, there’s no feasible way to get a train in such a short amount of time, and frankly, he doesn’t quite see the point in existing in the moment as long as he doesn’t have his train. He continues to mentally lament the loss of his livelihood, drinking the rest of the contents of his flask (that he may or may not have filled on the way out from the bar while the bartender wasn’t looking) and trying not to fall over.

“You really thought you could step into my forest in that condition?” A sigh. “Normally, I’d have to trap unsuspecting visitors, but I can’t trust you to walk far enough to see it!”

The voice catches him off-guard, but the Conductor recovers quickly. “Eh?” he says, leaning on a tree and trying to figure out where the voice came from. “Who said that?”

“Look up.”

As soon as he does, he realizes he’s come face to face with a ghost. At least, he’s assuming that’s what this guy is. A shadow, maybe? A specter? Oh well, whatever. He’s not sure, and frankly, he doesn’t care.

“What, ye own an entire forest? Ridiculous!”

“Actually, yes, I do,” he insists. “That level of disrespect from a drunkard is a punishable offense, you know.”

“Then do somethin’ about it, peck neck!”

“Thanks for your permission! I was going to regardless!”

“There’s not much left for me without me train,” he says. “Go ahead! I’m not afraid of whatever yer gonna do!”

The other gives pause, tilting his head (and whole body, for that matter) to the side. “Your train? You’re giving up on living because of a train?”

“What about it?” The Conductor leans on the tree more heavily. It’s getting difficult to keep standing. “It’s me whole career! Well, that and movies, but I need me train fer that too!”

The spirit puts a hand to his chin, looking deep in thought for a moment. “As much as I don’t like you already, I get the feeling I should be merciful to some degree. Fine, I’ll strike a deal with you, and it’ll benefit the both of us. What do you say?”

Truth be told, the Conductor is not as coherent and put together as he usually is. Something about the drink causes him to not fight things as much―heck, it’s why he does it in the first place! It’s a way to unwind. Of course, the anger does end up seeping through, but he lets things slide much more easily. His judgement is in shambles. His ability to stay upright is gone. He is not in any condition to be making a deal.

“Aye, sure, throw whatever you have at me.”

He’s going to be making a deal anyway.

“Going to do it the easy way, I see.” There before the Conductor is a freshly made contract, with its own quill pen to boot. “Go ahead, read it!”

“Nae,” he says, “I’m not sober enough fer this.”

“Can’t even be bothered to read it, huh?” The ghost before him makes some ‘tch tch’ noises, frowning. The bird is unable to tell how authentic this is. “Am I feeling merciful enough to give a summary? Hmm... We don’t even know each other’s names, and you want this kind of thing from me. You’re really asking a lot out of me.”

“The Conductor,” he helpfully slurs out.

“Great, don’t care!”

“Then why’d ye bring it up in the first place, peck neck?”

Although he doesn’t have pupils, he can still somehow tell that the ghost is rolling his eyes. “Fine, I’m the Snatcher, at your service! See, all I really require from you is your soul, and―”

“Ye just want me soul? Pfft!” He laughs, nearly losing his balance in the process. The Conductor grabs onto the tree. “Fine, take it! Not like I’m doin’ much with it anyway! Actually, didn’t know I had one, now that I think about it.”

“Normally, that is all I’d want,” Snatcher says. “But since you’ve been giving me a hard time, and you interrupted me while I was speaking, I’m going to ask for something else from you: let me be in one of your movies.”

The laughter stops. “What!? No! I’m not letting ye just walk up and decide yer gonna be in my movie!”

“And I’m not letting you have an entire train without some form of compensation since your soul alone won’t cut it,” he replies. “It’s quite simple, really. You’re asking a lot out of me, bird brain, and I can only be so generous.”

“Nae! Pick somethin’ else, I’ll do anything besides that!”

“You’re not exactly in a position to negotiate, you know.” He leans in, looming over the Conductor as he continues. The bird isn’t phased. “Either you take the deal as it’s presented to you, or you get absolutely nothing at all. In fact, I think I’ll take your soul regardless!”

Unfortunately, this forest entity is right. There aren’t a whole lot of options left for him at this point. He can swallow his pride and give in to desperation, or he willing gives up his life (that doesn’t have a point to it without his train anyway). Actually, now that his alcohol addled mind thinks about it, both options involve the sacrifice of what little autonomy he has left. It’s live or die, and which would he rather do?

“Hand the contract over before I change my mind, peck neck,” he says, sliding down to the ground. The Conductor has given up trying to stay standing while also voluntarily giving up his soul. Hey, at least he’ll have a reason to live! Does he even want to at this point? Well, too late now, he supposes, sitting up and trying to sign the document with the wrong side of the pen. Snatcher, albeit reluctantly, helpfully flips it for him. He tries to mumble that he had it, but no, he really didn’t.

“There ye are.” The bird tries to hand the pen and contract over to the ghost, but it disappears out of his hands fairly quickly. “So, when do I get me train?”

Snatcher smiles. “In due time.”

Then, he wakes up.

The Conductor sits up, bleary eyed and trying, for the life of him, to figure out where he is. It feels unfamiliar, and yet he’s clearly on one of the couches in the VIP room of his train. He doesn’t even remember going here, let alone falling asleep. The massive headache that he has coming on isn’t helping matters much either. Rubbing his temples, he tries to process everything, the room seemingly spinning as he tries to stand up, so he lets himself sit back down again. Why’s this room tinted purple, anyway…?

“Ooh, careful, you shouldn’t be getting up so quickly after drinking that much.”

Ah, peck.

He turns around, holding his head after such a quick movement aggravates it. Snatcher, eternally smiling, looks at him from across the room. “What’re yer doing in here!? How long have ye―”

“You sure do yell a lot.” He moves closer to the Conductor, leaning on the back of the couch. The bird scoots himself as far away from him as he can. “Can’t imagine that’d be good for your hangover.”

“Answer me, peck neck!”

“For your information, my minions directed me here.” The ghost motions to a couple of small, purple creatures in the doorway, who only wave enthusiastically. “They’re the ones who put you in here after you passed out in my forest. I was just coming by to ask you where your set is.”

“Set?”

“Your movie set?” Snatcher tilts his head to the side. “Don’t you remember our arrangement?”

“Our… Arrangement?”

“You know, I’ve been wondering what kind of bird you are, but at this rate, I think I’ll assume you’re a parrot from the way you’re repeating everything back at me.” With a snap of his fingers, a contract appears in front of the Conductor. “You can read over it now if you want! Pretty sure you’re sober now, right?”

“Wh―” He grabs it, skimming over the words. The events of last night before his untimely blackout hit him as soon as he sees his signature at the bottom. The Conductor can’t bring himself to finish the entire document, and he lowers it, looking over to the Snatcher. While he tries to stay calm―he’s taking deep breaths, telling himself it’s not as bad as he thinks it is―his anger ultimately wins out. “Why yer no good noodle lookin’ contract writin’ PECK NECK! I WASN’T IN ME RIGHT STATE OF MIND WHEN I SIGNED THIS!”

“What was it you said before? Something about there not being much for you left without your train?” The Conductor freezes in his tracks, and the way he stares back at Snatcher only causes the latter to laugh. “Oh, you forgot you said that, didn’t you?”

The bird takes a deep breath, letting a hand run down his face. Quietly, he says, “I didn’t think I said that.”

“That’s too bad! You did, and you completely screwed yourself! Now, are you done looking that over?”

“Nae,” he says, “let me get something straight first: yer giving me this train in exchange for being in one of me movies.”

“Correct.”

“And if I say no?”

Snatcher smiles. “Then you should also say bye to this little locomotive of yours.”

“Can’t we make another deal?” he pleads. The Conductor hates swallowing his pride for this, but what else has he got to lose? He already lost whatever was left of his dignity the night before. “I’ll give yer anything else! I can’t afford to mess this up!”

“Are you assuming I’ll do something to ruin your movie?” The ghost’s smile fades. He just looks disappointed, but the Conductor feels nothing. “Oh, I’m absolutely hurt. A stab in the nonexistent gut.”

“Yer not even good at acting,” he grumbles. “How am I gonna win the Annual Bird Movie Awards like this?”

Snatcher blinks. “What, that’s it? You’re trying to win some trophy?”

“It’s about more than the trophy, peck neck!” The Conductor huffs, his voice getting louder the more he speaks. “It’s about the recognition! Being the best there is! Keeping me winning streak! Proving me movies are better than DJ Grooves’!” He spats out his rival’s name like it’s venom on his tongue. Snatcher only seems more intrigued. “That lousy good fer nothin’ thinks his movies are better than mine, and I can’t have you comin’ along and ruining that fer me, can I!?”

“That’s great and all, but that doesn’t change anything.” Was the peck neck even listening? “As much as I want to be heavily invested in your little rivalry, the fact of the matter is you’re stuck with me! Doomed to star in whatever bargain bin trash you’re making this time!”

“IT’S NOT TRASH!” He pauses. “Bargain bin!?”

“If you admitted that you’re a parrot, this entire conversation wouldn’t get on my nerves as much as it has. C’mon, pal, give me a chance to say something in my defense.” Snatcher slips an arm around the Conductor, who promptly smacks it off. “Ooh, you’re a touchy one, aren’t you?”

“Me movies are better than yer makin’ them out to be! If they’re so bad, why do ye wanna be in one so much!?”

Snatcher shrugs. “It sounded interesting at the time! Frankly, I regret making this deal too, especially after having to put up with whatever the past few minutes have been!” He moves away from the bird. “But, hey, a deal’s a deal. As much as I want to go back on it, I’m a man of my word. So, I’m stuck with you until production wraps up, which is…?”

The Conductor sighs. “A couple of months at least. I’ve fallen behind schedule enough as it is.”

“Wonderful! I’m going to hate every second of it.”

So am I, the Conductor thinks to himself, rubbing his temples. His headache persists, and he’s not sure it’s coming from the hangover at this rate. He has to force himself to calm down―the Annual Bird Movie Awards is fast approaching, and every second he spends trying to debate with this thing is time wasted. Deep breaths, Conductor, deep breaths. He looks down at the contract again, trying to actually finish what he was reading before. He rolls it up, shoving it into his pocket. “We need to head straight to the studio, then.” He walks past Snatcher. “That’s where I was last shooting. It’s going to be a pain trying to fit you into this movie, but I can do it.”

Snatcher smiles, floating alongside him. The Conductor tries very hard to walk ahead of him, but it’s not working. “So, what, going to rewrite it all so it’s all about me? That’s very generous of you!”

He turns on his heels, pointing a finger at the ghost that’s, admittedly, much taller than he is. Height never stopped him before. “I’m going to make this clear once and fer all, peck neck: yer not STARRING in MY MOVIE! Nothing about what I read said you’d have to be the main focus, and yer not going to be! You’ll be in it, you’ll get a role, but that’s it! Do ye hear me!?”

Snatcher stares at him for a moment, and then starts laughing. Wheezing, hysterical laughter. As the bird rares up to begin another tirade, the ghost speaks. “Okay, okay, I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to notice that part of the contract. Normally I’d go back, make up some excuse, maybe change it to something that makes your life a lot harder, but I’ll give you a break.” He almost pats the Conductor on the top of his head, but thinks better of it, retracting his hand and putting it on his own hip instead. “Don’t think I’m going easy on you, though! You still have your contractual obligations to fulfill, and I won’t stop being a nuisance until you properly include me. That’s up to my own judgement.”

Better than nothing. There’s some relief (and satisfaction) in being told that he finally has some sort of upper hand on the other, but it feels like a hollow and forced victory. “Fine, fine. Let’s just get to set already.”

Lord knows Snatcher’s going to make this shoot a lot harder than it needs to be. Ultimately, the Conductor will adjust―he’s always been one for a challenge.

[aivaehdaevis]

The More Things Change: Ch 5

The More Things Change

by Aivaeh

Disclaimer: Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it. Summary: I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert. Pairing(s): OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus Rating: M Warning(s): Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death. Author's Note: I know there are a ton of these fics out there. Still I recently got into the show, and I can't get enough of these types of stories. The urge to write my own wouldn't leave me alone so here it is. Hopefully someone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Master List External Links: AO3 | FF.Net | Wattpad

Chapter Five

I woke up in Elena's bed, drenched in sweat. The slanted ceiling occupied my blank stare for several minutes while I laid on my back. I was well and truly stuck. How?

There was no figuring it out. If the show were real, maybe this was some sort of parallel reality. Yes, because parallel realities—as opposed to just losing my mind—made perfect sense.

I covered my—or Elena's—face with my—or Elena's—hands and concentrated on breathing and not, you know, screaming. It took a while. The alarm clock went off.

Dragging myself out of the bed, I went on autopilot. Bathroom. Shower. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Makeup.

By the time I was finished putting Elena's hair up into a ponytail, I had a good hour before I'd have to leave for—ugh—high school. That gave me some time to snoop before anyone might expect me for breakfast. Not that Jeremy would care, but Jenna would probably notice if I skipped another meal.

I went to Elena's desk and pulled her laptop over. While her diary would probably tell me more about her, it felt wrong to dive into a teenage girl's private thoughts. Her search history was fair game, though.

What I found was that Elena spent a lot of time reading fashion blogs, following models and designers on their facebooks—when she wasn't looking over the hundred other pages of people she apparently knew—and browsing the online sites of high-end fashion stores. She also had a large collection of links to blogs by and for writers. A quick perusal of her drive revealed a folder full of original stories and poems. I didn't have time to read more than a few of the latter. While poetry really wasn't my thing, what I saw was pretty good.

She also had a bunch of pirated music and shows. Tsk tsk.

Shutting down the laptop, I sat back and thought. Far as fashion went, my knowledge was limited to reality game shows—and that was about it. I was going to have to be careful not to bring it up around Caroline or Bonnie, because I'd probably sound like an idiot. At least I had an idea of her taste in music and movies. We shared a love of Pop, which was good, though Elena had a more extensive collection of Indie rock. We liked a lot of the same movies and shows, too. Except she had a noticeable lack of horror in her collection which—was hilarious or sad, depending on how you looked at it, I supposed.

I had enough time for breakfast before I had to leave.

Jeremy's room was quiet as I walked by. I glanced at the door, at the sign warning others to stay out, and wondered if I should knock and see if he was awake. Elena probably would've.

But I wasn't Elena. I didn't know Jeremy beyond what I'd seen on television, and the kid was not coping with the death of his parents all that well. If such a thing could be said of any kid who'd lost their parents. He also probably knew his sister pretty damn well. I didn't want to risk saying or doing something wrong around him. Jeremy was clever. He'd put together the existence of vampires for himself. No need to go stirring up his curiosity if I didn't have to.

I decided to leave it to Jenna, his actual guardian.

Unfortunately, all there was of Jenna was a note on the fridge saying she'd had to leave early to work on research. I helped myself to some cereal and started a pot of coffee for Jeremy. Provided he ever woke up.

As the time crept closer to eight, and he still hadn't made an appearance, I muttered a quiet, "Dammit." After rinsing the bowel out in the sink, I made my way back upstairs and to Jeremy's door.

I knocked. "Jeremy?"

Nothing.

Blowing out a breath, I knocked harder. "Hey, Jeremy? It's getting kind of late."

"Go away."

Alrighty then.

I wandered back to Elena's room for her bag before going downstairs. I was about to head for the garage when I heard a car rumble up the driveway. Had Bonnie thought she still needed to pick me up?

Switching tracks, I went out the front door and into a neon-bright Virginia morning. This time, I locked the deadbolt behind me. Who knew what Jeremy was going to do? Shaking my head, I started down the porch.

Only to stop at the last step.

Damon. Seated behind the wheel of a top-down convertible. Lips already twisted into that ever-present smirk. He lowered his head until his eyes peeked over the rim of his sunglasses. "Morning Elena."

Leather creaked in my grip. Over my shoulder, the front door tempted me.

"C'mon. I'll give you a ride to school."

"I can drive myself." I'd never make it before he was in front of me. And he could get in.

His grin suggested that was the most amusing thing he'd ever heard. "Let me get this straight," he began before pulling off his sunglasses, "I am offering to take you to your little podunk high school in a classic american sports car, and you'd rather go in a—" he squinted, "Ford SUV."

Since there was no way to get away and I didn't want to keep shouting across the lawn, I walked from the sidewalk to the driveway. I stopped a good few feet from the car. "That's right."

Damon rolled his head back until it was resting against the leather headrest. "Hm." Icy eyes flickered down. "And where did that come from, I wonder?" he asked, staring at Elena's bag.

"Your brother," I bit off. "And he said he found it in the woods."

"Found it?" A side of his mouth crooked into a grin. "Good ol' Saint Stefan." He slung an arm across the passenger seat. "C'mon, Elena. Let me take you to school."

"No, Damon." I sucked down a breath and made for the garage.

And there Damon was, right in my personal space. "Wow. You didn't even take a moment to think about it." He leaned even closer, eyes big and intense. "That really hurts my feelings, Elena."

I gasped. Dry grass crunched as I stepped back. "Don't do that!"

"If you did what I asked, I wouldn't have to," Damon said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

"You don't ask, Damon. You demand."

"Fine," he said in the surliest tone imaginable. "Elena," his lips stretched into a shape that technically met all the requirements for a smile, but was too grudging to truly qualify, "will you please," he pressed his hands together, "let me drive you to school?"

I squeezed the bag's strap. "No."

Damon's breath blasted through his nose. "You have to make everything so much more difficult than it needs to be, don't you?"

"I didn't ask you to come over."

"That's what makes it a surprise." His brows shot up. "Surprise!"

Lips mashed into a thin line, I glared.

"Fine. We'll do it the easier way." Ducking his head, Damon stare bored straight into mine, until I could make out the fine flecks of silver growing around his iris like frost crystals. His pupils contracted to points. "You want to ride with me to school."

Was he trying to compel me? "No, I don't."

He went still as night, pinning me beneath narrowed eyes. "You don't," he murmured.

The gentleness of his voice made the fine hair on my arms and neck stand on end. "No."

Damon's hand flew to his mouth, fingers rubbing across his lips as he stared. "Hm." His eyes were fever bright, like two chips of ice reflecting the winter sun. "Alright." His hand fell away. "We'll do it the hard way."

"What do you mean—"

"The blonde. Caroline, isn't it?" He smiled, and this time, it was closer to genuine. "She's cute."

My guts twisted.

"Mm. Yeah." Closing his eyes, Damon stretched his neck to the side. "I bet she'd like to take a ride with me." Eyes meeting mine again, he folded his arms and pursed his lips for a moment before wondering, "Or your other little friend. Bonnie." Damon's black shirt stretched as he shrugged his shoulders. "Personally, I could go either way."

Static filled my ears. Heart speeding up, my chest turned to ice that spread outwards all the way to the tips of my fingers. I didn't know what Damon had planned for Elena—for me—but I was pretty sure he'd do worse to Caroline or Bonnie. I knew what I needed to do, but it was hard. My knees trembled. I had to move, but every instinct in me screamed to stay. I was pulled in two directions, unable to move in either. I stood still and hated myself.

"Just tell me what you want from me, Damon," I asked—pleaded—quietly.

"I already have. This is not a difficult concept, Elena." His smile was all teeth. "I want you to get into the car so that I can take you to your boring little high school. And when you're finished, I want you to get back into my car, so I can take you home."

"Why?"

Damon shrugged again. "Because I want to."

It couldn't be that simple. Damon had to have some ulterior motive. I just couldn't figure out what it was. Unless toying with me was that fun to him. "You swear that's all."

"Mhm." He lifted his hand, two fingers up and the rest curled down. "Scouts honor." His grin returned with a vengeance. "You can do that if you eat one, right? It still counts?" At my horrified expression, he rolled his eyes. "Oh, ease up, Elena. Just a little vampire humor."

"Eating people. Hilarious."

"You'd be surprised. I'll tell you some stories sometime."

"Please don't."

"Spoilsport." He plucked his sunglasses from his collar and slid them on. "So, c'mon now. Wouldn't want to be late." His brows drifted up. "Unless you actually don't like your friends and won't mind if I eat one of them." His grin took on a sardonic twist. "And I'm not joking this time, bee tee dubs."

I sucked down a deep breath and managed to slide a foot towards the car. The second step was easier. The one after that even moreso, as if the momentum was building once I got going. So it went, until I had made it all the way to the passenger side of the convertible.

Damon appeared in front of me again, making me jump. He ignored my startled breath, opening the door for me. Peering over the rims of his sunglasses, he wiggled his brows. "Miss Gilbert."

If my heart kept jumping whenever he got near, I was going to have a heart attack before the day was out. I slid inside and let him shut the door. He appeared at the other side of the car. Sitting inside and pulling his door closed, Damon looked over and said, "Seat belt."

I pulled the strap out and buckled in, trying not to feel as if I were wrapping a chain around myself.

Damon grinned and started the engine. "Now this, Elena," he started before the engine suddenly roared, startling me into gripping the edge of the door, "is a nineteen sixty-nine Chevrolet Camaro." He shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. "Try not to look so terrified." He threw the car into drive and took off down the street. Even though we were just cruising down neighborhood streets and not going very fast, the wind still picked up. I was glad I'd tied Elena's long hair back into a ponytail.

"Can't imagine why I'd be scared. Who wouldn't love a joy ride with a psychotic vampire."

"This isn't a joy ride. You'll know when I take you on one of those."

I noticed he didn't dispute the psychotic part. And I didn't like his use of when instead of if. I hoped he was talking about the trip to Georgia he drags Elena on later.

He didn't have a modern stereo in his dashboard. Instead, it looked like the original radio that came with the car. It was tuned to the classic rock station. I was somehow unsurprised that Damon liked eighties hair bands. I tried to picture him with a mullet and nearly broke into peels of nervous laughter.

"Cute turtleneck." The high collar of my shirt pulled slightly out, right where I'd put a pair of band aids over the puncture wounds.

My heart rabbited. I jerked aside, slapping his fingers away before I could think better of it. "Don't touch me."

He smirked as he took his hand back, holding it up.

My heartrate stayed elevated. I leaned slightly towards the door instead of settling back into the leather seat. As the neighborhood houses morphed into brick storefronts, I wondered what the point of this was. Damon wasn't talking. He seemed content to just soak up the sun as he navigated the streets.

I wasn't about to break the silence. Who knew what he'd start talking about. One of his 'funny' stories?

I let out a relieved sigh as soon as the school appeared. Not that I thought Damon was taking me somewhere to murder me, really. He wouldn't have needed to leave the house for that. But it was still reassuring to know the ride was almost over.

The camaro purred like a sated tiger as it glided into the parking lot and rolled up the lane. Damon, arm slung over my seat and sunglasses on his face, soaked up the stares of the students like an attention starved sponge. I hugged my bag tighter. "See," he said as he pulled near the curb, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Yeah. It's been great." I had my hand on the door handle as soon as the camaro rolled to a stop. "Bye."

His hand landed on my shoulder, a firm warning grip keeping me in place. Suddenly he was leaning into me, his face right next to mine. I stared, wide eyed, as his breath stroked my lips. He stayed like that for a moment and then, ever so slightly, tilted his head to the side and stared over the rim of his sunglasses at something behind me.

"Have a lovely day, Elena," he murmured into my ear. Straightening back into his seat, he winked.

As soon as his hand let go of my shoulder, I was shoving the door open and jumping out.

"I'll see you after school," he added as I shut the door. My answering glare bounced off his smirking face.

Head down, I quickstepped away. I was up onto the sidewalk when I heard the convertible's engine growl as he pulled away. Sighing in relief, I lifted my chin.

And immediately saw Stefan.

Jaw clenched, backpack strap straining in his white-knuckled fist, he glared at the shrinking camaro.

Damon had been taunting Stefan. Damon had threatened Caroline and Bonnie, manipulated me into getting into a car with him, so he could put on a show for his brother.

Bastard.

My anger started as a smoldering heat in the pit of my stomach, climbed up my spine and set my cheeks on fire. Flushed and quivering, I struggled against the childish urge to kick at something, shout at someone. Mostly a certain smug-faced blood sucker.

While I silently fumed, I realized that while Stefan may have been Damon's intended audience, he hadn't been the only one. Half the school must have noticed—or so it looked like from the crowd of teenagers who had nothing better to do than stand around and gossip.

Including Elena's friends. I could see Tyler and Vicki over on a nearby bench, watching me and trading words that made each other snicker. Matt was frowning from his spot beside his truck. Caroline had been holding court by the doors but was now marching across the grounds towards me. Bonnie, who'd also been arriving from the parking lot, was the first to reach me. "Who was that."

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

Surprised, Bonnie fell in next to me as I headed for Stefan. "No, pretty sure I do."

I realized she wasn't going to let this drop. Why would she? Her best friend had just arrived with a hot mystery guy in an expensive sports car. "Damon Salvatore. Stefan's older brother."

"That's Stefan's brother?" She shook her head. "Wow. The gorgeous gene must run in the family."

"Yeah, well. He's nothing like Stefan. He's arrogant. Selfish. Cruel."

Bonnie's eyes widened with each cutting, nearly-spat out description. "Then how'd you end up with him?"

I didn't know what to say. Bonnie didn't believe her grandmother yet. At the same time, she'd have to work with Damon—would even one day become best friends with him. Say the wrong thing, and I'd poison the well.

On the other hand, Damon had threatened her, and she wasn't able to defend herself yet.

"Because he's good at getting what he wants," I sighed. "Try to steer clear of him, Bonnie. He and Stefan have issues. And he's not beneath using people. You don't want to get into the middle of it."

"But you're in the middle?"

"Apparently."

Caroline had reached us. I could see the questions forming as she took a breath to speak. "I thought you weren't going to need any more rides."

"So did I," I muttered.

Hands on her hips, Caroline ordered, "Spill."

"His name's Damon. He's Stefan's older brother," Bonnie answered for me. "And he's a jerk who we should stay away from."

She gave a disbelieving huff. "We should, should we?"

Oh no. "Caroline, he's bad news."

"Then why are you riding around with him?" Caroline demanded.

"Because he's using me to get to Stefan."

Caroline's lips mashed together before she said, "That doesn't explain why you got into his car." She turned suspicious. "Unless you're trying to make Stefan jealous?"

"I'm not," I said flatly. "There's nothing to be jealous of. Besides, Stefan and I are friends."

"Friends."

"I mean, we just met, but I'd like to be. I think we are. He agreed to hang out."

Caroline stared. "I don't even know where to begin," she declared, throwing her hands out to the side. She strode back to the small gathering of girls she'd been talking with.

Frowning, Bonnie and I shared a look. "She'll get over it," Bonnie soothed.

I grimaced and rubbed at my forehead. "I'm messing everything up."

"No. Care's being Care."

"I better explain things to Stefan," I muttered.

"Okay. Meet you at my locker?"

I nodded. Bonnie headed off to the doors, parting with an encouraging grin. I couldn't wait till she could give Damon aneurysms. It would make dealing with him so much easier. At least until he got over his fixation with Katherine and started giving a damn about Mystic Falls.

Stefan was seated on top of a picnic table that had been set up beneath a giant maple. Patches of sunlight and shadow flitted around him like butterflies. He'd had his head down in thought but straightened up as he noticed my approach.

His stare was searching, wandering all over my face. "Are you alright?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to say no, but then what? Stefan would try to enact his, 'Lock Damon Up,' plan early? All that would accomplish was getting Zach killed sooner than it had happened on the show. I don't think Zach had even shown him the room of vervain yet.

But Damon was a problem. Something had to be done.

I settled on saying, "Your brother is an ass."

Stefan cracked a slender little smile. It was the barest lift of his lips, but it eased some of the lingering anger from his face. "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's not your fault."

Brows furrowed, Stefan glanced down. I remembered he did, in fact, blame himself for Damon. "But you're okay?"

"Aside from a bad case of windswept hair," I patted at the loose hairs that had fallen out of my ponytail, "I'm fine."

"Your hair looks lovely."

Fighting the urge to look away from the intensity of his stare, I swept a few of the strands behind my ears. "Well. It was a lot neater before Damon insisted on driving me."

That little smile ticked a bit higher. "I stand by my earlier comment."

Grabbing my upper arm, I turned to side to look at something other than his earnest, handsome face. I settled on the line of buses dropping students off.

"I looked for your phone this morning." Stefan said, drawing me back. "I'm sorry but I couldn't find it."

"Oh." I adjusted the bag's strap before letting my hand fall. "It's alright. Thank you for going to all the trouble."

He shook his head. "It wasn't."

"I guess I'll have to talk to my Aunt about getting a new one." That would be a fun conversation.

He nodded. I noticed the crowd of students around us were starting to thin out as more trickled inside. "I better go. I promised to meet Bonnie before class."

Stefan hopped off the table. "My locker isn't too far from yours. Mind if I walk with you?"

"'Course not."

As we walked, we talked about the reading list for our upcoming English class. We had both read everything on it, not that the news surprised me. He'd probably read most of it when it was originally published. Stefan and I went our separate ways once I met up with Bonnie, and after we headed towards my locker, went on to class.

The rest of the morning passed a lot like the first. Well, there was more discussion and lecturing. I knew the way to English and was able to find a better seat—which happened to be near Stefan and Caroline. A pop quiz in Biology really made me regret not doing the homework the night before.

Which led to History before lunch. Stefan again sat fairly close, and it wasn't long through the lesson that I was glad for it. The instructor was really on a tear about a Civil War battle called the Battle of Willow Creek.

After he'd subtly insulted Bonnie and Matt, it was my turn. "Elena. Surely you can enlighten us about one of the town's most historic events?"

I glanced down at the textbook, flipping through a few pages, skimming for Willow Creek. Would this even have been in the reading? I thought it was a general American History course. Was the Battle of Willow Creek so pivotal that it'd be in a standard textbook?

"Willow Creek?" I asked, squinting.

"Yes, Elena. It was fought right here in Mystic Falls."

Oh. Well then it must've been bullshit, because Mystic Falls wasn't a real place. Annoyed, I pressed my lips together before admitting, "I don't know."

"I was lenient last year, Elena. For obvious reasons." Oh. Wow. Right. This guy. "But that ended over summer break."

I wanted to ask if it was because her—my—parents magically came back to life, but I kept my mouth shut. Let the asshole dig his own grave.

Wait. Damon kills him. Bad metaphor.

"There were three hundred and forty-six casualties, unless you're counting civilians," Stefan interjected. And Stefan would know.

The whole class looked from him to the teacher. "That's correct. Mister—"

"Salvatore."

"Any relation to the original settlers here at Mystic Falls?"

I couldn't help but turn to watch Stefan, careful to keep my amusement from showing. He glanced aside before answering, "Distant."

Liar.

"Very good. Except there weren't any civilian casualties in this battle," he said before moving around his desk.

"Actually, there were twenty-seven, sir," Stefan corrected, halting the teacher in his tracks. "Confederate soldiers fired on a church. They believed it housed weapons. They were wrong." Stefan's voice was the embodiment of confident. No wonder. That was the night he was turned, and the other vampires entombed. "It was a night of great loss."

And then Stefan delivered the knockout. "The founder's archives are stored at Civil Hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mister Tanner."

You could hear the 'ooo's throughout the room. The teacher, Tanner, could only respond with an attempt at a face-saving smile. Didn't work.

I glanced at my notes, grinning. That was beautiful.

Tanner flipped open his book. "Thank you, Mister Salvatore. Everyone, page thirty-three."

I flipped forward the required pages before peering out the corner of my eye. Stefan met my glance. His mouth lifted into that small smile I was really beginning to adore.

The rest of the class was filled with history that was actually covered by our textbooks. I made a mental note to memorize dates and figures. It seemed like he'd be one of those history teachers. I was good at the cause and effect when it came to history, remembering the context and environment and the events themselves, but I hadn't been wholly lying when I told Stefan I was terrible with numbers. I was horrible at remembering dates, too.

Wouldn't that make the rest of my time here fun. Monsters and sacrifices and homework. Oh my.

When the bell rung, I was happy to stand and get out of there. I waited just outside the door for Bonnie and Stefan. I didn't miss the look Tanner threw him as he walked out, either. Stefan had not endeared himself with that little stunt.

I remembered there would be another incident between them. Stefan rattling off dates, showing Tanner up again. Tanner wouldn't be a Stefan convert until he saw him play football.

And then Tanner would die.

My buoyed mood fell. If I knew about it ahead of time, did that make me responsible for it if it happened? This seemed like one of those Good Samaritan debates.

"Right, Elena?"

Bonnie and Stefan watched me with expectant looks on their faces. I had no idea what they'd been talking about.

I offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, can you repeat that? I kind of spaced out for a minute."

Bonnie's brows pinched together in concern. "I was telling Stefan he should join us for lunch."

"I don't want to intrude."

I wondered if he was being polite or looking for an excuse to go hunting. I decided to reassure him. "You wouldn't be intruding. But if you have other plans, that's fine."

"No." He shifted his bookbag higher up his shoulder. "I'd like to sit with you."

We headed to the cafeteria, picked our food up from the line and ended up at the same table with the same people as the day before, plus Stefan. Caroline made the mistake of asking Stefan about his brother.

"We don't speak." Stefan poked at his salisbury steak. I wondered if he regretted his choice to follow us.

"Ever?" Bonnie asked, surprised.

Stefan paused in his inspection of the food to look up and add, "Whenever we have to talk, we end up fighting." He accepted the packet of ketchup I handed to him and looked to Caroline. "Wherever my brother goes, someone ends up hurt. Take my advice and avoid him."

"Elena doesn't seem eager to take your advice," Caroline said.

"You should," he said quietly to me.

I folded my arms and stared down at the rest of my lunch, appetite gone.

Sensing the disquiet, Bonnie thankfully changed the subject back to classes. Which was how Stefan and I got back to our earlier conversation about books we'd read. That led to a discussion of our favorites. And while Elena was a Victorian romance lover, at least on the show she'd been, my tastes were more for modern historical romances and thrillers. Stefan and I got into a discussion of which was the better book: Red Dragon or Silence of the Lambs. I was firmly on the side of Red Dragon, he stuck with Lambs.

The rest of the day passed too soon. By the time the last bell rang, and I was done dragging my feet to my locker, it felt like only a few minutes had passed instead of hours.

Outside, the parking lot was filled with cars backing out and lining up for the exits. I scanned the front of the school, where a line of cars had parked along the curb in front of the entrance. Damon's car wasn't among them. I wondered if he'd forgotten.

I should have known better.

The distinctive growl of the camaro's engine came rumbling down the lane. He parked alongside the curb. The car's sleek sky blue lines gleamed in the sun. Damon's arm was draped over the wheel, his sunglasses tilted down as he met my nervous gaze. His lips curled.

I managed a tight smile at Bonnie. "See you tonight."

Bonnie, shielding her eyes against the sunshine, smiled back.

"Elena." Stefan placed a hand on my arm. "You don't have to do this."

But right as he said that, Caroline strutted past us and walked right up to the passenger door. "Hi. I'm Caroline. Elena's friend."

Damon tilted his head, sights roaming over Caroline. "Damon."

"This is a really amazing car," she said while leaning forward, forearms resting on the door.

"Why, thank you. It's nice to know there are people who appreciate her." His hand ran along the wheel with a lover's caress.

I rolled my eyes. I appreciated the car. It was the driver I had a problem with.

While Caroline continued to flirt, and Damon replied in kind, I met Stefan's concerned stare. "I kind of do." I mustered another smile for him. "See you at the Falls."

He nodded. I adjusted my bag's strap and, as if going into battle—which I kind of was—marched over to Damon's car.

Caroline was laughing at something Damon had said as I approached. Damon's sights flicked over her shoulder to me. He winked. I frowned.

"I like your friend, Elena," Damon called.

I fixed him with another unamused look before shifting my attention to Caroline. She straightened back up, smile stiffening as she regarded me. "So where are you going?"

"Home," Damon and I answered simultaneously.

I started, looking over at Damon. He turned his head to stare out the windshield. "I did say I'd take you home."

"Sounds boring," Caroline pouted.

Damon rolled back around. "So boring."

"You should come to the falls tonight," Caroline went on.

My eyes widened as I attempted to get her attention. "No way." At their combined stares, I forced my cheeks to pull the corners of my mouth up into something resembling a smile. "I'm sure Damon doesn't want to waste his time at some high school party," I tried to keep it light, but ended up sounding frantic.

"Don't be silly, Elena." His lips twisted. "I love high school parties." He focused on Caroline again. "You'll be there, won't you?"

"Obviously," she laughed. "I'm helping set everything up."

Of course she was.

"Then I'll definitely be there." His smile was a wicked thing. His sights shifted to me. "Better get going."

"Aw. So soon?" Caroline pouted.

Damon sighed. "'Fraid so. Elena made me promise. There and back." He crooked a finger at me.

My frown deepened, but I did as he bid. Sliding around Caroline, who glowed with triumph, I pulled open the car door and lowered myself into the leather seat.

As soon as the door was shut, Damon sent a sinful grin Caroline's way. "See you around, Caroline."

"I'll hold you to that," she replied, flicking her blonde curls back behind her shoulder.

Damon's grin widened before the engine growled and the car took off.

"You said you'd leave her alone if I rode with you," I accused as he swung into one of the parking lanes that headed back out of the lot.

"I didn't do anything. She came to me." Damon sighed. "These looks. They're a curse."

Sonofa—

"But don't let it be said I'm not a man of my word." I eyed him doubtfully. He lifted a hand. "I won't touch a blonde hair on her head. So long as you remain—" he pretended to think about it, "agreeable."

"Fine," I all but growled.

Damon turned out of the lot and onto the main road without signaling. "Jealous?"

"Concerned." I fell back against the seat and folded my arms. "Caroline doesn't deserve to be the rope in the Salvatore brothers' latest game of tug-of-war."

"There's a simple solution to that. Don't give my brother the time of day."

I'd rather not give him the time of day but had enough sense not to say it. "Why do you really want to go to a party full of drunk teenagers, Damon?"

"Because it's a party full of drunk teenagers." His eyes sharpened, like a pair of slate flints. "And I'm thirsty."

I swallowed and slid further down in the seat. "Please don't hurt anyone."

He hummed. "Hurting is kind of necessary."

"No, it's not. You could drink out of blood bags."

"And deny them to the poor soul who needs a blood transfusion?" His nose wrinkled. "Besides, blood tastes differently when it's been refrigerated."

"But you could do it."

He sighed. "I could. But why should I?"

"Because it's not right to attack people." I couldn't believe I had to spell this out.

Damon shrugged. "Don't care." He stretched his other arm out over the wheel before drawing his right back. "That's the best part about being a vampire, Elena. The old rules just don't apply anymore. Do what you want, whenever you want."

"And you want to hurt people."

"I want to quench my thirst." He glanced over. "I'm a vampire. I drink human blood to survive. It's natural."

"But you can do that without hurting or killing."

"But I don't care."

I thought for a moment, weighing the risk. But, hell, I had to push on his rusty moral compass at some point. "I don't think that's true."

Behind his shades, Damon rolled his eyes.

"I think you do care. You're just determined to pretend you don't."

"There's a switch we have. We can turn our emotions off like," he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, "that."

But I remembered the look on Damon's face when he'd finished feeding. How tender his gaze had been, his expression wistful as he lost himself to a memory. "Except you haven't."

"'Course I have."

"If that were true, you wouldn't care about what your brother thinks so much."

"We all have our hobbies."

"Say whatever you want, Damon." The car turned into Elena's driveway and idled. Damon lounged in the driver's seat, an arm stretched over the wheel as the other rested across his door. I took in the way his posture screamed indifference and saw it for the act it was. "But you don't fool me."

"Or maybe you want to believe I'm capable of caring whether people live or die to convince yourself I won't kill you," Damon suggested airily.

I forced myself to smile, even though he probably heard my pulse racing. "You say the sweetest things."

He turned his head and grinned. "See you tonight, Elena."

I worked to stay calm as I got out. His stare followed me all the way to the door. As soon as I was on the other side, I fell against it, sliding down to the ground, bag dropping beside me. He pulled out of the drive, and only once the rumble of his car disappeared down the street was I able to breathe freely.

Sinking my head into my hands, I wondered what I was going to do tonight. Both Salvatores at a party full of rowdy, drunk teens. Damon still trying to make life hell for Stefan.

It sounded like a recipe for disaster.

[theincompetentgenius]

hi! I saw that you do matchups; I’ve always wanted to receive one!! so, I was wondering if I could please get a match up for IkeRev and Mr. Love if possible? I’m very quiet and sort of shy. I’m quiet, I’m afraid to speak unless spoken to. I’m funny, that’s what my friends say. I like making people laugh! I really love writing photography. I’m also interested in history and linguistics. I really love cats. I have two at the moment — one at home and one with me at college. Thank you!!!

Alrighty! I know I’ve been almost MIA, but I found the time to write some matchups. So let’s get started!

Ikemen Revolution

Blanc Lapin

With Zero’s route finally out, my first thought was to pair you two together. Both of you are shy and sweet, which would be absolutely adorable to watch. The soft, blushy interactions would make my heart burst!  He’s the best boi who’d always keep you happy, but I’m not sure how you two would open up. Both of you can be very quiet, resulting in long silences. Hence, why I went with the bother best boi--- Blanc! Just like Zero, your best interest is his top priority, but he’s much easier to engage in a conversation.

Blanc is everyone’s favorite tour guide! He’s super easy to get along with because the man has absolutely no problem talking to other people. From the moment he introduces you to the Cradle, the tension in your stomach slowly disappears.

The record-keeper will be initiating most of the conversations, making sure that you’re feeling situated in your temporary home. It would be rude of him to not ensure your safety when it’s partially his fault that you even got into this mess, so you’ll have plenty of opportunities to speak and display more of your personality.

Your humor gives Blanc quite a few chuckles. It’s nice to see someone who knows how to make others laugh, especially when the Red and Black armies are going through one of the most turbulent periods in history. While you may not realize it, Blanc has a soft smile plastered on his face every time you make a joke. He just can’t get enough of it.

Since you’re super interested in history, you’ll understand his fascination with the Cradle’s history. While he can’t tell you many of the Cradle’s secrets, there are harmless historical stories that he can share with you (because they are common Cradle knowledge). You’ll listen to him with your full attention, pointing out the parallels between the history of the two dimensions. In return, you can’t help but burst with all the cool historical moments on our dimension. 

If you’re not quite ready to share it with Blanc, he’ll ask you about historical events in our dimension. Although he’d been there before, he doesn’t know a lot about it. He’s more than happy to hear you speak and won’t pressure you into talking for more than you want. To him, just your presence is enough to make his day.

Another Possibility: Zero

MLQC

Lucien

My first option was to hurl you at Kiro. Why? Because you’re a soft little introvert while he’s a plushy extrovert! Again, a super cute combination that I would mark with an A+. However, I read over your description with multiple times to ensure my introvert x extrovert trope bias wasn’t affecting your matchup. And lo and behold, it was. It didn’t take long before I realized you had a better suitor for you.  That’s right, our shady king Lucien! I swear I did not cheat and look through your blog I SWEAR

Lucien is very charismatic-- there’s something about him that draws you closer to him. Some might say he’s a walking red flag, but he has a natural charm to him. It only natural that your guard down around him.

Besides, he’s such a gentleman. Lucien is really good at reading people, so he’ll understand when you’re feeling uncomfortable or have something to say. He’ll do whatever he can to include you in the conversation. The scientist is interested in hearing your thoughts. Your quiet demeanor makes you a puzzle that he wants to solve.

Although the man is buried in his research, he’ll make time for you and your writing. Lucien notices that something you really like to talk about writing, so he makes it his unofficial duty to be your editor. Even though you’re considered about his well-being (he’s already writing millions of research papers at the expense of his sleep, should he really be editing your papers?), your favorite neuroscientist enjoys reading your latest creative pieces. It’s a productive break from all his other work.

He’s an amazing editor. Because Lucien has lots of experience writing papers, he’ll be able to help you find errors in comprehension, organization, and grammar. Additionally, he can provide you with extra information and resources if you want to write about the human body (especially the brain). However, if you ask him about the brain, Lucien will begin to ramble. While he’s super cute when he talks about his passions, he’s completely lost you within the first minute. Don’t worry though, he’ll make a simple analogy to help you understand all that mumbo-jumbo.

As I said, I’m a major fan of blushy interactions and who else would give the perfect amount of blushy interaction? Lucien teases you because he loves to watch your cheeks grow rosy pink. While you stammer and trip on your words, Lucien can’t help but let out a small chuckle. You’re so adorable to him and your embarrassment only makes you cuter.

Another Possibility: Kiro

[c-stress]

My Ultimate Taekook Fic Recommendations!!

This will be my ongoing list of Taekook fics that I really loved  reading and want to share with you guys ♥

A few things beforehand:

All of the following fics will be completed.

I don’t take any credit or responsibilty for any of the following fics.

In this household we support Bottom!Kook.

Please enjoy~~

He Tells Me, “Stay If You Can” by vestals

It takes Jungkook three years to realise two things: 1. He certainly is not straight 2. He is very much in love with Kim Taehyung

#friends to lovers #canon/non au #coming of age #bottom kook #experimenting #8k #ao3

pulling shapes just for your eyes by aeterisks

The number one rule when you're a producer on a show like Miss Right, Taehyung thinks, should be do not fall for the bachelor.

It's such a shame Taehyung has never been good at following rules.

#reality show #producer tae #bachelor kook #secret relationship #switch tae and kook #hot #110k #ao3

The Blood Donor by IncubusRose

A series of kidnappings and killings has led the world to the astonishing discovery that vampires have been living alongside humans for centuries. And it seems they're just as bloodthirsty and twisted as ancient lore makes them out to be.

So when Jungkook finds himself the victim of a kidnapping that's perhaps not as nefarious as he initially thought, why is nothing the way that he thought it would be?

Now he's been roped into helping a sick, red-haired vampire against his will. But the more he explores and discovers in this new world, the faster and harder he falls into Wonderland.

#vampire tae #human kook #kidnapping #no stockholm syndrome though #bottom kook #fluff #violence #ot7 #hate to love #97k #ao3

you're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be by aeterisks

He has seen Taehyung smirk, smile seductively, smile cheekily, grin lazily, but nothing like this. This, Jeongguk thinks, is what happiness must look in Taehyung.

(He tries to ignore the way his chest pumps when he sees it, and the urge to see it again once it’s gone.)

#club owner tae #dj kook #rich tae #fwb #fuckbuddies to lovers #misunderstandings #tae has issues #bottom tae #27k #ao3

Suit & Tie by Wontonz

Taehyung and Jeongguk really shouldn't have been partnered together.

#CEO jungkook #CEO taehyung #bottom kook #both are the best in their job #rivals to lovers #25k #ao3

Eclipse by Bangtanbananas

After the tragic death of his parents, Jeon Jeongguk hated werewolves.

The last thing he ever expected was to fall in love with one.

#werewolf tae #werewolf hunter jk #slow burn #bottom kook #fluff #mating #big fight in the end #ot7 #91k #ao3

As You Are by taekover

Jeon Jungkook, the youngest private investigator in Seoul at 23 years old, with over a hundred solved cases under his belt, does not do favours.

Well. That's what he says.

#fluff #funny #private investigator #5k #ao3

War of Hormones by C_Stress

When Jungkook left the house that day, he just wanted to dance for a bit, not getting it on with some (hot) stranger...

#basically pwp #tattooed tae #virgin jk #bottom kook #one night stand? #3k #ao3

Sugar...daddy? By whatspoppin-yoongi.tumblr

Jokingly but also totally not jokingly putting an ad out to find a sugar daddy seemed simple enough. He never expected people to respond though…

Being rich was all he knew, and so help him god, he wasn’t going to turn out like all the selfish people that surrounded him.

#social media #pictures #texting# sugar daddy jungkook #side yoomin #tumblr

Bubblegum Bitch by snowmoney

Jungkook is but a simple delivery boy; the last thing he needs is a high maintenance fake boyfriend.

#fake relationship #tae in heels #model tae #falling in love #misunderstandings #bottom tae #dislike to love #33k #ao3

Snowflakes by IRINEL

Taehyung falls in love for the first time, right when the first Snowflake kisses the ground. As, a Single father, Drown in responsibilities & pressure, he finds his strength in a pair of Doe eyes, exactly a week before Christmas Eve. In a pair of Doe eyes, belonging to a simple country boy - named Jungkook.

Visiting Jimin's grandmother didn't seem like a good idea from where Taehyung was standing. Especially after her daughter's_Taehyung's wife's sudden disappearance, leaving the young man with a Five years Old Son, a bunch of responsibilities, his parents' '"I told you" looks and of course a letter reading "I can't do this anymore". But if he knew what was waiting for him from the start he would never, ever waste a single second to head to the small Village.

#aged up tae #aged down jk #age difference #jimin is taes kid #he's the cutest #bottom kook #orphan kookie #christmas #fluff #angsty #happy ending #slow burn #27k #ao3

whatta man (good man) by aeterisks

Out of all the kinds of blogs Jeon Jeongguk could have run, never in a million years Taehyung would have expected him to have a porn blog.

(Or, Jeongguk runs a porn blog and Taehyung not so accidentally finds it.)

#college #social media #fluff and smut #crack fic #friend to lovers #bottom kook #7k #ao3

Working Conviction by rix

How their trust evolves to go from from Jungkook pointing a loaded gun in Taehyung's face to Taehyung binding Jungkook down and fucking him till he can't see straight.

#mercenary kook #mercenary tae # enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers #smut #guns and violence #bottom kook #9k #ao3

Read All About It by jvante

A star football player and an aspiring journalist fall in love, and make headlines everywhere.

#college au #life through the years #football star tae #writer jungkookie #established relationship #bit angst in between #happy end #bottom kook #realistic description of a relationship #40k #ao3

Cage Match by golden(SlimeQueen)

Taehyung knows he likes the rush of adrenaline that comes from fighting. He likes his knuckles split and stinging, heart pounding in his ribcage, the rush of blood in his ears. Jungkook is new to it all but all he knows is that he likes Taehyung.

#fight club au #hate to love #bottom kook #pining jk #choking #kinky smut #violence #20k #ao3

Just Two Dudes Being Bros by micmicbunjin

"So you two aren't dating?"

"Nah, man, we're just best bros. I mean like, if I was gay, and that's a very big if, then I would be on my knees right now sucking his dick. But I am very straight, so Jeon's dick is nowhere near my mouth."

Jeongguk nods convicingly. "I like pussy."

Namjoon puts his face in his hands and screams.

#gay panic #bros to lovers #denial #college #bottom kook #excessive use of the word bro #7k #ao3

New (Newer) Rules by jvante

Step #1: Don't get involved with the guy your girlfriend cheats with.

Failed step 1.

#bottom sub kook #sub/dom #kinda pwp #humiliation #lingerie #cock stepping #hate to fuckbuddies to lovers #hurt jungkook #108k #ao3

A crow will not pull out the eye of another crow by taetaeggukie

"If you killed me you'd let go of the only chance you've ever had to find your soulmate." That smirk was annoying Jeongguk to no end, he was close to pulling the trigger, but the man deserved something worse than a bullet to his head.

"By now you're only spitting out lies in hopes to be able to save yourself." Jeongguk was the one smirking now. "You know nothing."

"You'd let Kim Taehyung just slip through your fingers like that?"

- in a world where your soulmate's name is written on your wrist, Jeon Jeongguk blindly trusts a pirate captain V in order to find his soulmate and doesn't realize he might fall in love sooner than expected

#soulmates #pirates #bit angst #kidnapping #enemies to lovers #bottom kook #pirate tae #crew bangtan #13k #ao3

whisper me all your secrets by noekkin

Series of prostitute jk and rich man tae who just likes caring for the younger

#cute af #prostitute kook #bottom kook #caring tae #26k #ao3

Sugar and Spice by kkozumes

Jeongguk can't deny that he's attracted to Taehyung. No, he realised he was attracted to him as soon as his car pulled up by the side of the road. Jeongguk appreciated a handsome face and Kim Taehyung was beautiful to him. What he didn't expect however was for the beautiful man with the expensive car to take him back to an equally as expensive apartment away from home, give him new clothes, allow him to stay and then ask if Jeongguk wanted a sugar daddy.

#sugar daddy taehyung #daddy kink #fluff and smut #poor jk #sub kook #bottom kook #23k #ao3

Spy on Me by C_Stress

Jungkooks dad gets killed by a mercenary and he swears to get revenge. What he didn't plan though, was falling in love with said murderer.

Or

When you find out you not only moved in, but fell also in love with your mortal enemy.

#mercenary tae #hitmen au #fluff and smut #flatmates #bottom kook #cute kookie #violence #friends to enemies to lovers #17k #ao3

My Daughters Teacher by Staerrykookah

Jungkook is the single father of a 5 year old named Asami. Taehyung is her kindergarten teacher who thinks the little girl is cute but her dad is cuter.

#kindergarten teacher tae #father jungkook #top kook #falling in love #aged up #5 year old daughter #cute #wattpad

So, pancakes? By Captainotp

„He thought I was a top.“ Jungkook all but whined, hiding his head in Taehyung's chest. „Well what else is new?“

Jungkook struggles to, like, get it, because everyone thinks he's a top, and his roomate Taehyung is more than willing to help. That's it that's the story.

#friends to lovers #bottom kook #roommates # fluff and smut #soft kook #4k #ao3

you the one that I dream about all day by locks

Taehyung finally convinces Jeongguk to do the boyfriend tag/boyfriend does my make up tag.

#soft boyfriends #established relationship #youtuber tae #boyfriend does my make up #domestic fluff #shy kook #nicknames #5k #ao3

The Give and the Take by JKDoYouLoveMe

submission | səbˈmɪʃ(ə)n | noun [mass noun] 1. the action of accepting or yielding to a superior force or to the will or authority of another person. ~ domination | dɒmɪˈneɪʃ(ə)n | noun [mass noun] 1. the exercise of power or influence over someone or something, or the state of being so controlled. ~ Young and inexperienced college student Jeongguk thinks he is a dom. His older and considerably more experienced roommate Taehyung is quite determined to show him that he is, in fact, not a dom. Drama ensues.

#sub kook #dom tae #college #roommates #friends to lovers #more like friends to fuckbuddies to lovers #degradation #humiliation #jk is a brat #subspace #tried rape at one point from another character #57k #ao3

Sing me to sleep (I can't fall without you) by HesterAntoniaDracolas

They call him demon child and think him a monster. He must be, they say, to have survived down there.

Jungkook thinks it’s because the demon actually likes him.

And maybe if you asked him, just maybe, he would admit that he likes him too

#demon tae? #jk is afraid of tae first #falling in love #sweet #8k #ao3

tenacious d in the dick of destiny by jhopeg

In the midst of struggling with debts and empty plastic packets of instant ramyeon, Taehyung and Jeongguk joined forces to put the phrase "sex sells" to good use.

#social media #use of pictures #college au #bottom tae #pornblogger #41k #ao3

tats'n'thots by Deaths_Impala

“Jeon Jeongguk, hear me out.” Taehyung says with a grin. “I feel inspired, and I want to work with you, so how about this: let me tattoo you in any way I want, free of charge – with your input of course.”

#tattoo artist tae #tattooed jungkook #aged up #life through years #smut #bottom kook #cute af #12k #ao3

say you'll stay by ChocolateKookie

Jungkook and Taehyung meet at the beach and they spend the summer holidays falling for each other, but they both know that their romance has an expiry date.

At the end of August, Jungkook is supposed to have gone back home, halfway across the country, so Taehyung expects to go back to school and continue pretending to be straight, as if nothing's changed; playing up to his role as the jerk who's never had a serious relationship. He doesn't know what to do when Jungkook turns up at his school and expects them to pick up from where they left off.

or: the BTS Grease AU that no one asked for! in which Jungkook is Sandy and Taehyung is Danny and they just want to be able to be together but Taehyung is still in the closet which makes things complicated.

#grease au #sandy jk #danny tae #secret relationship #bit homophobia #tae's deep in the closet #cute cute cute #300k #ao3

my guy pretty like a girl (and he got fight stories to tell) by hunnydews

He's dressed in another black sleeveless tank top with deep cuts on the sides, showing off his canvas of a body and all the intricate tattoos he has to offer. His pants are black and fitted as well. He forwent the bandana tonight instead his shaggy brown hair is falling into his eyes. They look like opposites of each other, yet complimentary somehow. Jeongguk likes it.

--

Alternatively, Jeongguk wears lots of pastels and pink and loves to draw. Taehyung is practically inked from head toe and is in a band. Taehyung broadens Jeongguk's musical horizons and shows him what love is supposed to feel like.

#bamf jk #crossdressing kook #tattooed tae #tae's in a band #past abusive relationship #fluff and smut #healthy relationship #artist jk #falling in love #69k #ao3

Mileage May Vary by rix

Jeongguk is a stripper with a penchant for trouble. Taehyung is curious.

#stripper kook #age difference #bottom kook #smut #falling in love #80k #ao3

Camerman, Swing The Focus by augustdarling

“I thought you were into landscapes recently. Why does it have to be me? More importantly, why does it have to be me naked?”

“Because artists want to capture beautiful things, baby,” Taehyung murmured, leaning down to nibble on his ear. “And you’re the most beautiful thing I know.”

Or:

Taehyung combines his two hobbies: photography and Jungkook. The results are even better than expected.

#basically pwp #bottom kook #dom tae #canon #exhibitionism #humiliation #2k #ao3

You Are My Chosen One by C_Stress

Jungkook starts his first year at Hogwarts..what could possibly go wrong?

#hogwarts au #slytherin jk #gryffindor tae #bottom kook #fluff and smut #secrets #falling in love #45k #a03

Of cigarette smoke and alcohol by fluffy-lychee

Taehyung likes to dye his hair.

Jungkook struggles with the opinion of Taehyungs mother about their relationship.

#no real fluff #nor real smut #but always close enough #2k #aff

pick me up, buttercup by vppa

AU where your soulmate's first words to you will be tattooed on your wrist when you meet.

Which freakin sucks, because Jungkook's forearm will now forever read "Hey baby, if you were a booger, I'd pick you first."

What the fuck, universe.

#fluff #soulmates #crack au #9k #ao3

dark blue (this night's a perfect shade of) by memetaehyung (21cg)

jungkook has never seen the world and taehyung is determined to show him it

#blind jk #fluff #bit smut #bit angst #bottom kook #8k #ao3

Mischief Managed by Vanteblack

Basically a Hate to Love Uni AU but at Hogwarts because I'm a slut for Harry Potter lmao. Also you start at Hogwarts at age 15 instead of 11 so everyone in the story is over age.

#hogwarts au #secret relationship #hate to love #slytherin kook #hufflepuff tae #rated #fluff and smut #20k #ao3

Don't Let Your Love Go To Waste by krscnl

Taehyung and Jungkook meet on Omegle.

#college au #actor tae #writer kook #life through the years #at one point established taekook #41k #ao3

fellas is it gay to want ur hot roommate to dick u down? By hunnydews

Jeongguk tunes them out as they argue, it’s normal and happens often. Instead, he takes out his phone and decides to google "how do you know if your friend is gay for you?"

~~

Jeongguk comes to the realization that he's def not as straight as he thought and he starts to explore that realization with himself and with his hot dormmate/best bro, Taehyung.

The stupid college au no one asked for but i wanted so here we are almost 20k later :)

#college #coming out #excessive use of the word bro #friends to lovers #bottom kook #cuties #19k #ao3

got a kiss (with your name on it) by marienadine

“I just—I just thought, like. Maybe I wouldn’t be so horrible if someone more experienced than me taught me what to do.”

#inexperienced kookie #college #roommates #bros #friends to lovers #first kiss #practicing #bottom kook #11k #ao3

I forget to breathe (when i'm with you) by locks

"Do we have a deal, angel," Taehyung repeats, and Jeongguk can hear that he's losing his patience, hands resting on his hips.

Jeongguk lifts his head, snapping the lid closed. "Pleasure doing business with you, daddy," he nods, sending a grin up to Taehyung who just narrows his eyes at him.

"You're lucky I like you," Taehyung mutters, sounding mildly threatening as he steps over to him and tilts Jeongguk's chin up, leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.

Lucky doesn't even come close.

Or, Jeongguk's trying to figure out how he ended up with a sugar daddy when all he wanted was a couple packets of instant noodles.

#non sexual daddy kink #sugar daddy tae #tattooed kook #aged-up #tae in heels #soft nicknames #praise kink #fluff and smut #bottom tae #sub top jungkook #fashionista tae #realistic description of a relationship #111k #ao3

Suspenders, Daddy Issues & Miracles of Halloween by chimscharli

It's nearly Halloween when Jungkook can't stop stealing glances at Taehyung during practice, and wonders when exactly everything went so wrong. It's nearly Halloween when Jungkook is in a coma, and doesn't want to see Taehyung when he wakes. It's nearly Halloween when Taehyung walks in on Jungkook moaning his name.

It's nearly Halloween, and maybe it's time Jungkook stopped being so afraid. Maybe it's time a miracle happened.

#real daddy issues #and daddy kink #smut #sub jungkook #lots of kissing #happy ending #hate to love #violence #angst #both are football players #17k #ao3

(They Long to Be) Close to You by vantoa

Kim Taehyung is a sassy and talented KBS World Sports reporter. Jeon Jeongguk the most outstanding speed skater in South Korea. They meet, hate each other and then, one eventful day, they like each other, a lot.

#speed skater jungkook #reproter/journalist taehyung #enemies to lovers #bottom tae #misunderstandings #11k #ao3

国王的小丑 by saranghaengbok

When Taehyung had announced that he would steal Yoonji from him, Jungkook had not expected that he would be the one falling for Taehyung, in the end.

#heir jungkook #prince jk #prince tae #enemies to lovers #falling in love #bottom kook #12k #ao3

Rumor Has It by buttstrife

Contrary to popular belief and multiple eyewitnesses, Taehyung did not make out with Jungkook in the pool. And no, they absolutely did not fuck in the shower rooms. Seriously.

#college #baseball player kook #swimmer tae #sut #enemies to friends to lovers #exhibitionism #manhandling #8k #ao3

make this feel like home by aeterisks

Taehyung has spent his whole life looking for excitement, but instead, he ends up finding Jeongguk; somehow, that seems to be even better.

#motorcyclist jk #fluff and smut #bottom tae #44k #ao3

Love Scarred by gjungkook

“You are unbelievable,” scoffed Jeongguk while shaking his head. “I’ve never met anyone who pisses me off as much as you do.”

Taehyung had licked his lips before he smirked, with his hand still around Jeongguk’s wrist, he stepped forward closing the distance between them. “Let me tell you why, it’s simple really...”

“You feel threatened. You know I’m better than you.”

(Jeongguk wants to win against Taehyung at everything. Win their matches in quidditch, win their spontaneous sparring sessions, win his heart— But one day, Jeongguk takes it a little too far with a single curse.)

#enemies to lovers #hogwarts au #angsty #gryffindor jk #slytherin tae #secret fuckbuddies relationship #bottom kook #denial #26k #ao3

Comeback Kids by rix

Taehyung is infuriating and Jungkook's always been easy to rile up. Which isn't the best combination, but also isn't the worst, either.

(or: Taekook as hockey fuckboy rivals)

#icehockey players kook and tae #rivals #enemies to lovers #bottom kook #fluff and smut #34k  ao3

[chungledown-bimothy]

Trust Me: Chapter 7

Hey look! A timely update! Consider it a preemptive apology to everyone who loves Logan. 

Chapter 1 Chapter 6 AO3 Chapter 8

Warnings: GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF TORTURE and JD is a high schooler. It’s relatively short, and marked by ******* before and after. But it’s for sure there. Oh, and some swearing.

Author’s Note: The German translates to “I speak German too, and I know you killed them.”

Word Count: 2190

Tag List: @ccecode​ @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn​ @ren-allen​ @ilovemygaydad​ @bloodropsblog​ @funsizedgremlin​ @raygelkitty​ @roxiefox23​ @thomasthesandersengine​ @spookyingarbageisland​ @band-be-boss-blog​

15 minutes passed before Logan broke the silence. "I understand that two members of the football team committed suicide two weeks ago. I know that you are new to the school, but it must be difficult nonetheless."

"Not really. I bounce around so much, I don't bother learning names or faces, let alone care about anyone. Besides, I heard they did it because they were gay and too homophobic to deal with it. No major loss there, in my opinion."

"That is… an interesting perspective, JD. I am almost afraid to ask about your thoughts on Heather Chandler's death."

"Sometimes even the shiniest of ivory towers are prisons, I suppose. One has to wonder, though, how much the bullying rate has dropped since she kicked the bucket. I mean, sure, one of the other Heathers is trying to take her place, but even she knows that she'll never measure up." He looked out the window and then back to Logan. "Hang on, I never told you where I live."

"I know where I'm going. What do you know about how Heather, Kurt, and Ram died?"

"If you say so," JD began, hesitantly. "Only what everyone knows. Heather drank drain cleaner, and Kurt and Ram shot each other. I heard someone saying that they used some special kind of bullets called ich lüge."

"Ich spreche auch Deutsch und ich weiß dass Sie sie umgebracht haben."

"H- how could you possibly know that? No one knows that. I was careful. I was perfect."

"Obviously, you were not. If you were truly careful, you would not have said anything about the bullets. You wanted to applaud yourself for being so much smarter than everyone else. You also would not have chosen such an emotionally-driven accomplice. I understand the appeal. We have a lot in common, JD. We both understand that emotion and personal attachments are nothing more than hindrances. But there is that one person who changes all of that. Who makes you want to know how to feel things. But ultimately, they will always choose their emotions over us. I was not completely certain that you killed them until you bragged about the bullets. Killing people who had been cruel towards your person, Miss Sawyer, aroused my suspicions. Rule number one of getting away with murder: only kill people to whom you are not linked."

"It's you, isn't it? The killer everyone's talking about. The Park Puzzler."

"That is the first honest and correct thing you have said all evening." Logan paused, considering JD's words. "Is that really what they are calling us? Disappointing, but not surprising. The best and brightest certainly do not go into journalism."

"You aren't gonna kill me. You said yourself, the first rule of getting away with it is killing strangers." Logan was filled with a savage glee, seeing the terror in his student's eyes, his desperate attempt to save himself.

"In most circumstances, yes, killing you would be a mistake. However, your father is known for leaving town and taking you with him unexpectedly. You have attended 10 high schools, I believe, and it is your senior year? Everyone knows that the killer is punishing people for their unpunished crimes, and how would a simple teacher know what you did? Especially one who does not interact with other teachers, let alone students. No one was around when you got in my car. No one has ever seen us interact outside of the rare occasions you showed up to my class." He sighed when he saw JD reach for the door handle. "Don't be stupid- there is no point in trying to escape. I engaged the child-lock this morning. You cannot open the door from the inside, and breaking through the window is difficult with only a fist for exceptionally strong individuals. Looking at you, I estimate that you have slightly below average upper body strength for an 18-year-old male."

"Well that's awfully rude, teach. So, I'm gonna die. Why? Why not just turn me over to the cops?"

"You are a young, white man who, when you want to, can be quite charismatic. The American justice system is skewed to protect people like you. Even that is predicated on the assumption that a prosecutor would take the case, which is unlikely, given how well you were able to convince everyone that they were suicides. Your kills were cold-blooded with very little motive outside of bloodlust, and you left very little to no evidence. Truthfully, I am rather impressed."

"And we're back to my question. Why do I have to die for doing such good work? You're a killer too. Why should I die, when you're no better than I am? If the papers are accurate, killing me will even up our body counts, so you aren't even better than me on that front."

"The quality of your work was admirable, but it was still wrong. You took three innocent lives, simply because you wanted to. I only kill those whose crimes go unpunished by the corrupt justice system. We are both killers, but my crusade is a righteous one."

"I still don't buy it. I trade in half-truths, straight-up lies, and manipulation, teach, and there's more to it than you're saying. You're gonna kill me anyway, and clearly we aren't to wherever it is you're taking me to do the job. Why not pass the time with a good old-fashioned villain monologue?"

"All will be revealed in due time. I have been reliably informed that people tend to dislike 'spoilers'."

"You're absolutely nuts. You know that, right? You're even more delusional than I am. And that's my self-harm of choice is fucking Slurpees."

"I find it interesting that you truly believe that your obsession with what is colloquially known as 'brain freeze' is less sane than your manipulation of Veronica Sawyer and the cold-blooded murders of your peers."

"Peers? That's bullshit. They were, at best, vapid instruments of the system."

"And for that, they deserved death?"

JD shrugged. "I would do anything to protect Veronica from assholes like that."

"As I would do anything to protect my sibling from a world that turns a blind eye to the crimes of assholes like you. We are at an ideological impasse. That impasse, however, is rendered irrelevant by my superior intellect. Ah, here we are." Before JD could respond, Logan reached across the car and emptied a syringe into his arm.

-

The first thing JD noticed when he came to was the rope around his wrists tying him to a chair. Struggling revealed that his ankles were bound as well, and the chair was bolted to the ground. He was surprised to find that he wasn't gagged. Looking around, he reasoned he could only be in a warehouse, and it was empty except for him and a video camera. He continued to struggle against his restraints, barely noticing when the rope burn broke his skin. He was also hungry, and his mouth felt like sandpaper.

"How long was I out?" JD croaked, unsure if anyone was there.

"Approximately eighteen hours. It is 2pm on Saturday." JD jumped, not expecting Logan's voice to be so close behind him. "You are in luck. Normally, Patton would take a turn with you before I do anything, but they are… otherwise occupied. You should thank me- you will be useless to them once I have started with you, let alone finished. I am saving you potentially weeks of agony. The last one took a week and a half to learn his lesson. Only then could I begin my experiments."

"Experiments? What the fuck are you going to do to me?"

"As many things as you can endure."

"Why? Why not just kill me and get it over with? Satisfy your 'righteous crusade' without wasting time."

"And waste the opportunity to study how much the human body can endure? I think not. In all honesty, I care about the cause far less than Patton does. As I said, you will be spared their particular brand of torture, both physical and mental. I can only imagine what they'd do to you, given the fact that you murdered children, despite being a child yourself."

"We were all 18. Technically not children. Why, may I ask, won't I have the pleasure of making their acquaintance? They sound absolutely delightful."

"I am not surprised that your listening skills are subpar. They have other business to attend to."

"They're with someone, aren't they? That's why you've got such a big bug up your ass about emotional attachments and me and Veronica. It's rebellious child 101, teach. Lash out to get their attention. You aren't the center of their universe any more, and it's eating you alive." Logan flinched, and JD smirked; he'd hit his mark.

"Those who speak of what they know find too late that prudent silence is wise. This is doubly true for children who know nothing." He raised a hand, cutting JD off. "No more talking. Feel free to scream, however. Your responses will be recorded on that camera," he pointed, "and further analyzed later. I tend to get… distracted in the moment."

Logan briefly returned to the shadows of the warehouse before returning with a tank that seemed to be smoking. "This, JD, is liquid nitrogen. You mentioned your fondness for cold-induced pain. Let us see how you feel about it in the extreme. And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest."

****************************

He put on thick gloves and an apron before opening the lid and pulling out a ladle full of liquid nitrogen. Very carefully, he stepped forward and slowly emptied the ladle onto JD's arm.

The first drops hit JD's skin with a sizzle, causing JD to flinch. That flinch quickly turned into convulsions and a scream he didn't know he was capable of making when the stream grew thicker. It burned. Every second was more painful than the last. He was on the edge of unconsciousness when the agony stopped getting worse- Logan had stopped pouring. JD didn't know how long he sat there, face contorted with pain, before he was able to open his eyes and look at his arm. He immediately wished he hadn't. From wrist to elbow, his arm was mostly violently red and blistered. What truly horrified him, however, were the areas that weren't red at all, but were an unnatural grayish-yellow.

***************************

"That is third degree frostbite. Those uniquely discolored areas should turn black over the course of our time together." JD tried to scream, to swear, to cry, but he couldn't. He was hit with a wave of dizziness and nausea when he tried to open his mouth. "Ah yes, that would be the shock setting in. Breathe with me, JD. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight." Logan led him through the breathing exercise until he returned to a slightly more normal temperature. "Well done. Keep focusing on your breathing; I will be right back with some first aid."

"Wh- why bother?" JD asked when Logan returned without his gloves and apron, carrying a first aid kit. "Why not let me die from this?"

Logan gently began heating the frostbite with a warm, wet towel before responding. "There are more experiments to run. Even if this was the only one I had planned for you, seeing how it heals is a crucial part of the process. My goal isn't killing you. My goal is observing how the human body reacts to and recovers from various extreme stimuli. Letting you die would be extremely counterproductive. For now, at least." Logan began wrapping JD's arm with bandages. "There we go. That should be adequate to keep you alive and will hopefully prevent gangrene. The point is to study frostbite, not gangrene."

"Why thank you." JD smirked the best he could, but even he knew that it was, at best, a pitiful attempt.

"You certainly are strong, JD. Most people would not dare being sarcastic in the face of their torturer. Drink this." Logan demanded, holding a water bottle to his lips. "Good. I suggest you get comfortable. I will be back tomorrow to change your bandages and check on you. Can't have you dying before I allow it."

-

Sunday

"Oh Logan, he's absolutely wonderful. He's so smart, kind, and handsome. He didn't even blink when he learned my pronouns! And he said the most beautiful things about Monet and Impressionism. Aahh, I wish I could stay and tell you all about it and him, but I have to spend some time at the coffee shop- between our work and Virgil, I haven't spent nearly enough time there!" Patton got to the door before turning around. "Oh, and I'd love to know what you were up to yesterday- I called, but you didn't answer or call me back. That's why I had to come check on you before going to work. I'll be back around eight tonight, okay? See you then!" Patton was out the door before Logan could respond. Eleven hours. Plenty of time to tend to JD and come up with a convincing lie.

[occasionalfics]

Paige’s 2k Challenge/Bash!

Hello and welcome to my 2k Follower Celebration/Bash! First and foremost, thank you for getting me to 2k!! This blog has more followers than my main blog. But I write for Thor so I get it. We’re hungry.

Secondly, the challenge! I wanted to do something more creative than just a simple writing challenge...but I think that’s gonna end up being more in the execution than this prompt list. And by that, I mean that I want y’all to get as creative as possible. Do whatever you want (within reason): one-shot/drabbles, feature-length fics, mini-series, letters, etc.

So here are the specifics:

Up to two prompts per person, two people per prompt. 

Should enough prompts be open by Wednesday, September 19th, I’ll think of something else to add because right now I’m out of ideas. 

Send me an ask with the prompt you want, the character(s) you want to include, and maybe a backup or two if you think you’ll need it (I’ll let you know if someone gets to your choice ahead of you though).

If I don’t respond to your ask within 24 hours, send it again.

Tag me in the body of your post and make sure to tag #paiges2kbash so I can find your entry! (If I don’t respond within 24 hours, send it to me in a message.)

If you’re gonna write smut, you’ll have to be 18 or over and the character you write for needs to be as well.

All Marvel characters are on the table - even ones I don’t normally write for. This is about what you want, as my way of giving back to you for following me!

I am 100% cool with and encouraging you to play with the genre your prompt comes from. You see something in the Angst category, but you think it’ll be cute and fluffy too? GIVE. IT. TO. ME.

Gimme AUs, Gimme body swaps. Gimme it ALL.

Word minimum: 500. Total. There is no maximum.

I prefer Reader Insert fics, but I’m also cool with OCs. PLAY WITH THAT PERSPECTIVE BABE!

Make sure the prompt is easily identifiable in your post. Bold, italicised, a different color, or just point it out in the informational part of the post (if you do those like I do), just make sure I and other readers can easily figure out what the prompt is!

You do not have to be following me to enter! I’d love to have you and would appreciate your company, but it’s not required to participate.

Entries are due by HALLOWEEN (10/31/18)! 

Make it spoopy.

Here’s what I’ll be doing throughout/at the end of the challenge:

Making a masterlist of all the entries with descriptions and tags

Denoting which are my favs in some way

Reblogging each entry to support and promote both the entry and the challenge (once again, if I don’t reblog within 24 hours, send it to me in a message)

Interchangeable prompts are located under Misc. So you get to pick what genre!

Angst

“Not you again..”

“I thought you loved me.”

“I can’t believe you!”

“We can’t keep this up forever.” - @mcu-owns-my-ass

“Don’t leave me…” - @the-resal10 with bucky (and/or steve)

“You’re a disappointment.”

“Don’t die on me– Please.” - @bvckysmanbun with steve

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“Thanks for nothing.”

“Why did you spare me?

“You need to leave.” - @the-resal10 with thor

“I thought we were family!” - @akamaiden with thor

“There was never an us.”

“So that’s it? It’s over?”

“I fucked up.” - @distinguishedstarlightcrusade with tony

“I came to say goodbye.”

“I don’t deserve to be loved.”

“About the baby… It’s yours.” - @sidehowriting with thor

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, it was my fault for thinking that you might care.”

Fluff

“I’m so in love with you.” - @thorsstorms with thor

“Dance with me!”

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” - @thorsstorms with thor

“Will you marry me?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“You’re special to me.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Can I kiss you right now?” - @lookslikeleese with thor

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” @multi-fandom-imagines8 with thor

“We’d make such a cute couple.”

“I want to take care of you.”

“Shut up and kiss me already.” - @iambuckyrogers with bucky

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Is that my shirt?” - @barnesrogersvstheworld with bucky

“You’d be a great dad/mom.” @averyrogers83 - with steve or bucky

“Did you do something different with your hair?”

“This is why I fell in love with you.”

“Stop hogging all the blankets!”

“Let’s run away together.” - @sweetboybucky with bucky

“Where did all these puppies come from?” - @samanthasmileys with peter parker (feat. tony stark)

“Wanna go see a movie with me?”

“I vote today to be a pajama day.”

“I’ll just be in the bathroom throwing my fucking guts up because our unborn kid wants to be a dick!”

“You’re smart and successful with an adorable belly.”

“Your hair is so soft…”

“Just relax, I’ll wash your hair for you.”

“You are ridiculously comfortable…” @uhltrons with peter parker

“I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with…”

Smut (NSFW, for 18+ only, I will be checking)

“This was fun— Let’s do it again sometime!”

“Why are you naked?”

“Bite me.”

“Fuck me.”

“Stop teasing me so much…”

“What a pretty sight.”

“Well, fine; just this once.”

“As you wish.”

“First one to make a noise loses.” @sassysupernaturalsweetheart with loki

“Car sex looks so much more easier in the movies.”

“Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”

“We can’t do that here!”

“I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.”

“Don’t give me that look.”

“You’re more than just a one night stand.”

“Don’t be so rough. There can’t be any marks.”

“I really don’t care. You still look hot and i’m trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right now.”

“Put that thing away!”

“Don’t kink shame me.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?” - @buckybarnes-xyou with bucky

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

“You taste like fucking candy.”

“Just let me finish this level/chapter/etc. and I swear I’ll go down on you until you cum at least three times.”

“If I have to stop what I’m doing, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”

“Were you just masturbating?”

“Ah, he’s playing hard-to-get. thats cute.”

“For the love of fuck.”

(optional) “Yep, thats me. I love to fuck.”

“I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.” - @kentuckybarnes with bucky

“Your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt.”

“Did you just… finish?” - @supernovasandcoronas with bucky

“They always make shower sex sound so appealing, but honestly, this is getting dangerous.”

“I’m not actually feeling anything.”

“Are you getting any closer?”

“Boobs are really just squishy pillows.”

Misc. (could be any genre you’d like)

“I’m fine.”

“I’m really fucked up.”

“Are you drunk/high?”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Not sure if you could tell, but I’m not exactly a people person.”

“I don’t remember that!”

“Well that’s pretty rude of you to say.”

“You owe me.”

“You did what?!”

“I love that show too!”

“Can I borrow that book of yours?”

“What are you listening to?”

“I brought you your coffee.”

“I haven’t slept in four days.” @hwkewhy with steve

“This place gives me the creeps.”

“Just how stupid do you think I am?”

“I can take care of myself just fine.” - @samanthasmileys with steve, oc, and tony appearance

“Since when have we ever been friends?”

“Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night.” - @thatfanficstuff with clint

“Put me down!” - @evanstarff with bucky

“It isn’t what it looks like! Okay.. Maybe it is…”

“Didn’t you read the sign?”

“Do you think you can teach me that?”

“Okay.. This is new.”

“You’re in trouble now.”

“Tell me again.”

“What do you think? You like?”

“This isn’t what I had in mind, but okay.”

“Don’t forget who taught you that.”

“Are you sure this is legal?”

“Why are you so annoying?”

“What’s with the box?”

“Stop pinning this on me! You started it!” - @hiswhiteknight with bucky

“Just pretend to be my date.”

“The planet is fine. The people are fucked.”

“I just did some calculations, and I’ve determined that you’re full of shit.”

“Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they’d lock us up?”

“It’s not that you’re wrong, exactly, you’re just extremely not right.”

“You shouldn’t be trusted with small children, should you?”

“Give me cake or give me death.”

“You have to tell me why were committing a felony before we do it. Not that that’s going to stop us, but at least I’ll have all the facts.”

“Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”

“You’re like, five feet tall. How you gonna reach me, shortie?” - @sectumsempra-beaches with loki

“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

“I’m going to keep you safe.” - @captain-ariel-barnes with thor

“It’s lonely here without you.” - @romancing-the-reader with loki

“How did we get here?”

“You are not going without me.”

“You know we’re supposed to be together. I knew it the first time I saw you, and you know it, too. I know you do.” - @mcu-owns-my-ass

“I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

Prompt sources:

http://rfaimagining.tumblr.com/post/159085054669/nearly-200-writing-prompts-feel-free-to-reblog

https://justforshitsandcackles.tumblr.com/post/173942517099/smut-prompts

http://rpmemesfam.tumblr.com/post/164529932732/nsfw-sentence-starters

http://you-make-me-wander.tumblr.com/post/128505986473/random-sentence-starters

[templified]

Best WordPress eCommerce Themes for Selling Products Online

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Best WordPress eCommerce Themes for Selling Products Online

When searching for the best WordPress eCommerce themes, there’s a lot of options.  For many, it can be time consuming to wade through all of these themes to find a real gem.  That’s why we’ve done all the hard work for you, creating this collection of incredible WordPress eCommerce themes that look great and perform even better.

WordPress is the most popular blogging platform anywhere, powering almost one third of the web.  Many of those websites are eCommerce sites and no matter which eCommerce plugin you use, WordPress can handle the job with ease.  Some folks swear by WooCommerce, some by Easy Digital Downloads.  Some go with Cart66 or the eCommerce Shopping Cart.  That list isn’t exhaustive, there are tons of other carts available like Ecwid, PayPal, Ecommerce WD or the Selz eCommerce Shopping Cart.  Whatever you choose, this list of themes is going to rock your world. With that massive rise in popularity, there’s been an equal rise in the number of WordPress themes available to choose from.  Some of these themes are incredibly useful and highly functional.  Some are not so good.  We’ve set about trying to find the very best themes and put them in this collection.

Every one of these themes is totally responsive and they each offer a little something different in terms of style, functionality and features.  I hope there’s something for everybody in this incredible collection.

Oxygen

Oxygen is one of the best simple, clean and elegant themes I’ve ever seen. This Oxygen theme can be used for nearly any type of eCommerce site. Fashion or electronic gadgets, hand crafted gifts or jewelry, it hardly matters what kind of product you’re selling. The overall style is so clean and fresh, your products will look incredible.  It’s a very big challenge running your own online store so Oxygen helps you make the most of your precious time by making it whole process of managing your store as easy as possible.  You have tons of options to create a custom look for your store with multiple headers, almost unlimited typography choices, unique layouts and more.  Oxygen has been sold over 3,000 times and it’s rating is 4.86 so you can tell this is a high quality theme.

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Oshine

Oshine is a theme that gets a lot of attention on ThemeForest and I think it deserves to.  There are a lot of reasons why and we’ll get into a lot of them.  This theme is a true multipurpose theme with dozens and dozens of demo sites to show what Oshine is capable of.  There’s a photography demo site that comes with just about every theme, right?  Well Oshine gives you several, there’s a minimalist style, a full screen photography style, designer portfolio and ‘new style’ portfolio and video agency portfolio and a bunch more too.  There are plenty more, creative agencies, modern business, restaurant and café sites, winery, gym, multiple different creative agencies, app landing pages, wedding templates too.  You get a ton of demo sites and every one is eCommerce ready to help you start your online shop.

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Material

Material is a nicely crafted theme that uses WooCommerce, or the shopping cart of your choice, to allow you to sell most any type of product you want.  It was designed with electronics stores and gadget sellers in mind, but why stop there?  Any online store that wants a clean, sleek look will love this theme.  Responsive, well organized and modern, Material is the kind of theme that can be adjusted to fit the look of an existing brand.  So if you already have a brick and mortar presence and you’re looking to expand to eCommerce, this theme can really help you get the job done.  Material’s developer, JWS Themes, has fantastic support and documentation to go with all their themes and Material is no exception.  They’ve included a lot of nice touches like one click demo data installation, three pre-made homepages, a robust theme options panel and tons more.  Worth checking into!

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Chamomile

Chamomile is one of my favorite themes by BluChic.  If you don’t know about BluChic, you really do need to check out BluChic’s entire collection of themes, they’ve got some fantastic feminine style WordPress themes.  Each one is easy to use, great for blogs.  More than a few also offer eCommerce solutions to get you into the game of selling products.  BluChic calls Chamomile the ‘girl next door’ theme.  I love that description, but let’s get into more of the features.  You can obviously see it’s a feminine style blog theme that could be great for a wedding planner or event coordinator, but there’s more than meets the eye.

Chamomile includes PSD design files with every download, that allows for full style control of your site.  Chamomile is responsive, so it’s optimized for mobile devices.  You want to adjust colors?  Easily done vial the color wheel color picker.  No coding needed.  Upload your header logo and add a featured slider, if you want to.  Social media icons are included, linked to each of your social network accounts via the theme options panel.  Add a stick menu and choose from one of the many layouts that are included with your download package.  A full featured, feminine and stylish theme, that’s what Chamomile is all about.

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Slikk

Slikk was designed by Wolf Themes, a developer with well over 20,000 sales on ThemeForest so far and they’re sure to add to that total with Slikk.  They create world class themes and plugins for all sorts of folks in all kinds of industries.  Slikk has several homepage demo sites, I’ve included a couple of them above.  There’s a lookbook home page, coming soon countdown clock page, blogs, grid shops, plenty of internal pages and so much more.  Oh, fine, here’s one more, it’s called the presentation panel.

For more outstanding fashion WordPress themes, you should really have a look at our collection. We’ve got dozens of the very best fashion themes around and we keep adding to that collection as often as we find a new great looking theme that. You can really stretch your legs in that collection, finding pleasurable and encouraging themes that can make your readers jump for joy. Or maybe it’s minimalist WordPress themes you’re searching for?  Either way, our collections of themes are the biggest and best on the web, so you’ll definitely find something you love in one of them.  Style is incredibly important for fashion magazines and eCommerce sites, which is why we’ve done our best to select only the most modern and tasteful, stylish and presentable themes for all of our collections. If you don’t see what you’re looking for there, we might recommend our collection of woocommerce themes. These juicy themes are knowledgeable and different, we have tried to create a nice blend of WordPress themes that can serve a lot of different content for any type of site.

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Neto

Neto is a flexible, flat styled WordPress Theme specially designed to support e-commerce functions of websites. The theme is compatible with various WordPress business plugins like WooCommerce. It can also be used alongside theme builders to help create comprehensive product layouts and descriptions.

The Neto WordPress Theme is also highly customizable. It allows the use of shortcodes, widgets, and the ability to create unlimited templates. The theme boasts of access to appearance settings that allows changes to the overall color scheme without altering codes. It also allows users to personalize background images, logos, and even add a favicon.

Another business-friendly feature of the Neto theme is its easy integration with social media. With this, guests can easily share content on their profiles which, in effect, helps the business reach a wider audience. The theme is also specially optimized for optimum performance and to obtain higher ranks in search engines. It is also translation ready for the benefit of foreign guests.  The theme’s responsive design also allows access to different devices without sacrificing its functionality. It is both mobile friendly and retina ready to ensure quality display. Finally, Neto promises to deliver constant updates to ensure the theme’s compatibility with the latest versions of WordPress.

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Divi

Divi is a theme that can simply do anything you ask it to do, so we’ve included it in this eCommerce WordPress themes collection.  I couldn’t find a great example in Elegant Themes demo section, so I found one out in the wild.  This is an actual real live use of Divi by a buyer of the theme.  It looks pretty nice as a watch shop, so I’m imagining it’ll look pretty sweet for just about any product.  You’ve probably already heard about how powerful Divi’s drag and drop page builder can be, but page builders can scare some people off.  While the flexibility is nice, it can be intimidating to attempt to design your website from the ground up.  Luckily, there are tons of pre-designed layouts you can choose from if you’re worries you won’t be able to set your eCommerce site up yourself.  This theme is likeable for many reasons, swift support, succinct documentation, handsome designs and the fact that any style website is possible.

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Jevelin

Jevelin is one of the best selling WordPress themes on ThemeForest with over 5,000 sales.  It sports a solid 4.6 rating on ThemeForest too, so I think it’s worthy of inclusion in this list of the best eCommerce WordPress themes.  Built on the Unyson framework with Bootstrap code, Jevelin is compatible with all the plugins and shopping carts you’ll need to run a successful WordPress based store.  Jevelin is perfectly responsive, it’s mobile friendly for both blogging and eCommerce, it’s very well organized for SEO and creating a successful online brand is relatively easy, thanks to the number of custom options you can choose from setting up your store.  You’ll love the nimble style of this theme, the encouraging documentation, the dashing features and the alluring price.

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Float

With an attractive design, plentiful features and a full service eCommerce store, lots of folks have chosen to use the Float WordPress theme to build their online store.  Many WordPress eCommerce templates have static, plain designs and I haven’t seen too many that use parallax, but Float does.  I think it pulls it off quite well too.  With float, you can create a modern, slick looking WooCommerce shop, but if you want to sell digital products, you could choose to go with Easy Digital Downloads too.  I think Float would work particularly well as a digital downloads store.  Right now, if you purchase Float, you actually get a bonus theme for free.  Float offers a 30 day money back guarantee, you can use this GPL theme on as many sites as you want to and you get a full year of support and updates.

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Uncode

This theme is called Uncode, you may have heard of it.  With around 40,000 sales and a near-perfect rating on ThemeForest, plenty of people have.  Built to impress, to showcase products, to help you build a business, Uncode is a high performance miracle of a theme.  With a very fast page load speed, clean code and an even cleaner design, Uncode has carved out a place in history as one of the best themes ever made.  Uncode has so many demo sites to take a look at, it’s kind of ridiculous.  It’s a totally multipurpose eCommerce shop in a box.  The theme options are plentiful and easy to use, the support staff is fast and friendly, this tendy and contemporary theme is simply among the best eCommerce WordPress templates around.

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Underwood

Looking for a simple, stylish blog that’s also ready to help you set up a WooCommerce powered online shop?  Well, Underwood may be a great choice for you.  This theme is simple to use, yet incredibly powerful.  Built using the latest Bootstrap code, Underwood is a fine example of a modern, clean and simple multipurpose theme.  With parallax effects, custom color and font selections all powered by a live customizer, you can take Underwood and make it look exactly like you want it to look.  Underwood is optimized for great SEO, it’s got tons of widgetized areas for adding functionality and it’s incredibly user friendly for webmaster and reader alike.  ThemeShift has been around since 2009, so they’re not going anywhere anytime soon and their support is known to be among the best around.

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Hestia Pro

Hestia Pro is a nice looking material design theme for WordPress and it offers eCommerce too, so whatever WordPress shopping cart you choose to employ, Hestia Pro will help you make a successful place on the internet.  I don’t think it matters what kind of products you’re selling, though Hestia Pro’s material design style might lend itself to things like software or SEO services.  Building a WordPress shop doesn’t have to be difficult and with Hestia Pro, it isn’t.  For startups or established businesses, the parallax scrolling, one page layout helps to highlight each section of your content and make it shine.  This theme is well worth having a look at.

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Wright

Wright is an ultra-minimalist theme that’s a solid blend of blog, eCommerce and portfolio.  I really like the minimalist design and all the benefits you get from having a minimalist site.  It doesn’t mean that your website will lack features, but it does mean it will load up lightning fast and look great on any size screen.  That provides a great user experience and makes it more likely that you can convert traffic into sales.  That’s the big thing, if somebody ends up on your website, that’s the hard part.  You really don’t want to lose that sale because your site loads slow or looks janky on somebody’s mobile phone.  That won’t happen with Wright, because it is a completely mobile friendly experience and that makes for the best user experience possible.  Wright could be the best eCommerce minimalist theme around.  To see more clean WordPress themes, check out our collection.

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Kalium

Kalium is a premium theme for WordPress that’s been the choice for thousands of business owners who have also wanted to set up an online eCommerce store, just like you.  Kalium is very popular thanks to it’s simple, modern and clean design, sleek arrangement of content, powerful features and bold typography.  The shopping cart itself is every bit as stylish and with Kalium, your website and your products will look amazing on all devices, because this theme is totally mobile friendly.  Kalium supports WooCommerce of course, but every other shopping cart can work with it too, so don’t feel like you need to be tied to one cart.  With so many out there, a little variety could be just what you need to stand out from the crowd.

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Studio 8

Studio 8 is like a might oak, it’s strong an powerfully built, it’s full of strong branches that can be loaded with tons of products?  Stuff?  I guess maybe it’s not like an oak after all, but it is a well designed WooCommerce WordPress theme that I’m happy to recommend.  There’s a gigantic amounts of features that make for a really enthusiastic reader, or buyer in the case of eCommerce, when they make it to your website.  The design is clean and agreeable, the layout is never jumbled and untidy, and this cheerful design is one that makes your shop like electric, professional and useful.  No matter what type of product, it’s unquestionable that the Studio 8 WordPress theme will never leave you wanting.  You’ll be able to generate a dramatic and exultant WordPress eCommerce site.  There’s no utopia in WordPress themes, but the Studio 8 theme comes close to creating perfection.

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Massive Dynamic

Massive Dynamic has proven to be among the most popular themes for building a great online shop.  No matter which eCommerce cart you choose, Massive Dynamic works great.  Easy Digital Downloads, Cart66, Ecwid, WordPress Simple Paypal Shopping cart or the biggest and best of all, WordPress.  No matter which you choose, Massive Dynamic has the style, the tools and the functionality to make a great experience for buyer and seller alike.  Sometimes, multipurpose eCommerce themes can try to do too much, they try to be everything to everyone, but Massive Dynamic walks that fine line with ease.  This theme has several pre-made demo sites and each one can be used to sell products.  Each one is also installable with just a few clicks, which can help speed up the process of starting your website.  If you’re not familiar with how to set up an eCommerce cart, that can be a lifesaver.  For business or blogging, creative portfolios and personal websites, Massive Dynamic is a theme that’s well worth considering.

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Composition

Composition is a little different than many of the other themes in this collection, since it was built to work with the Sell Media plugin.  That’s sort of like Easy Digital Downloads, it’s an eCommerce plugin that allows you to sell digital files, prints and other stuff.  So, it’s one way to build a store online, but there’s a lot more going on with Composition.  This theme is really simple to customize, you’ll have the ability to visually arrange your blog, portfolio and more, making the perfect homepage to welcome your visitors and turn them into customers.  There are unlimited galleries, plentiful widgetized areas and automatic updates to make sure your site works perfectly with WordPress, every time.  Add in a clean, responsive design and you’ve got a full featured, user friendly theme that’s perfect for a stock photography store.

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Kleanity

Less is more, that’s an old saying and sometimes it can be true with regard to web design. A simple design, like the one offered with this theme, can allow your users to find exactly what they’re looking for without any sort of distraction. This template is great for businesses that want a clean and corporate style theme, it showcases your content with a minimal style that squarely focuses your readers attention on the products that you have to sell. I love the good layers page builder, it’s one of the best Drag and Drop content Builders around. It’s incredibly simple to use and can produce a very high quality shopping website. There are multiple headers and Footers, an infinite amount of layouts possible and each and every design produces a fluid and mobile-friendly, Unforgettable user experience.

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Arnold

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The Arnold WordPress theme is a minimal portfolio template for Creative people who want to blend and attractive and simple looking for folio with the power of woocommerce. Actually, with this Arnold WordPress theme, you can create a clean and beautiful online shop using any of the most popular shopping cart plugins. If you’d like to sell digital products, you might prefer to use Easy Digital downloads, probably the leading cart for that type of product. No matter which shopping cart you choose, this clean and modern template allows you to build beautiful portfolios, have an amazing blog and sell some stuff too.

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Zerif Pro

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Create

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Hermes

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Ultra

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Shoppe

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Inverto

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XStore

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CoupShop

ThemesKingdom has made several really attractive themes for eCommerce sites and none has has more of an impact that CoupShop.  The CoupShop WordPress theme was inspired by glossy print magazines and with all the white space, the typography centered layouts, big and impactful images and thoughtfully placed calls to action, it’s a very successful theme.  It can be a real challenge to run your own eCommerce website so picking the right theme is critical.  With CoupShop, you get a platform that’s stable, attractive and flexible enough to work for nearly any sort of product.  CoupShop has what it takes to be a sort of parnter for you in building a very successful online business.

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LaBomba

LaBomba is a WooCommerce based theme that looks a little different than many other eCommerce themes, so I though it might be worth highlighting what this theme can accomplish.  Specifically built for fashion trends and online clothing shops, LaBomba is perfect for creating a combination lookbook, portfolio and blog in one finely knitted package.  I couldn’t think of any other clothing reference, let me know if you think of something better.  Okay, so for a fashion store, you get multiple headers to choose from, unlimited colors too.  There are almost two dozen different home page layouts and Visual Composer support means you can build even more, if you want to.  I think the clean design and the number of features make it a really good eCommerce template.

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Hopefully you found what you were looking for in this collection, but I realize that there are a lot of themes out there, so I can’t include everything at once.  However, we’ve got another great collection of WordPress WooCommerce themes to check out.  There are plenty more themes in that collection, so hopefully you see something you really enjoy.

[scuttleboat]

There’s no cursing in The Good Place... (spoilers for season 1)

This post may contain graphic and sexual language. Most of my blog does. Sorry this is way too fucking long.

I had a thought a few weeks ago about how the “no cursing” rule is used on The Good Place, and how a benign act of “appropriateness” is actually an early sign that the characters are living in a dystopian scenario.  And how--bear with me here--this reads to me as a clear analogy for dramatic flailing of fandom groups this last two years. Now, I may not make this point in the most thorough or elegant way possible, as I feel vaguely intimidated talking about a show that has such thoughtful philosophical consideration behind it, but I’m going to give it a shot. If I flub, blame the messenger not the essence of the idea.

In season 1, Eleanor and the audience are presented with a world that is supposed heaven, specifically a “neighborhood” of the good place that is specifically curated to fit its residences (in this case, Eleanor, Chidi, Tahani, Jianyu, and others). Of course, we learn right away that Eleanor believes she’s there by mistake, and one of the first rules that demonstrates her “wrongness” is that she wants to curse, and can’t.

Eleanor: “Why can't I say ‘fork’?” Chidi: “If you're trying to curse, you can't here. I guess a lot of people in this neighborhood don't like it, so it's prohibited.” Eleanor: “That's bullshirt.”

The show glosses over this pretty quickly, and it’s played for laughs for the rest of the season. It very cleverly supports the show’s season 1 misdirect: any awkward or unsettling aspect of The Good Place is excused away by the audience (and by the characters) as simply being a side-effect of Eleanor’s misplacement. Of course you can’t swear in heaven!  Swearing is for bad people, and good people wouldn’t even want to hear it. So, therefore, it doesn’t exist here.

And yet, this is not just a subtle form of personal torture for Eleanor (as she is, of course, really in The Bad Place), it’s actually a pretty grotesque form of censorship on all of the characters. Notice that Chidi doesn’t say he is particularly averse to swearing. He says “I guess a lot of people in this neighborhood don’t like it.” Although not nearly as much as others, Chidi does curse a couple times in the show, himself. So, clearly, it’s not a thing he feels particular discomfort about---so why is it censored when they’re alone?  If this were truly a heavenly place customized for each soul, then Eleanor would be able to express herself and Chidi would be able to hear it, but other people who didn’t want to hear it would simply not be subjected to the cursing. 

Instead, the neighborhood completely outlaws cursing anywhere, at any time. In the s1 premise, it’s not enough for the other citizens simply to not hear the swearing, it matters if it’s even happening anywhere in their environment, whether they themselves are witness or not.  So why am I focusing on that idea, when we know the whole thing is manufactured, and the people who made up this rule did so as a lie, just to be cruel?

Because that line of thinking is so endemic to certain parts of fandom right now. Whether it’s making a story or fanart that contains content someone morally disapproves of, or whether it’s only a simple text post or meme going around, there’s thing now where people feel like content boundaries and warnings aren’t enough. It’s not enough to acknowledge that public platforms like Tumblr are unmoderated and that venturing forth to search or browse is accepting a certain amount of risk that one might run into something that makes one uncomfortable.  

[read more below the cut]

When people are campaigning that content they disapprove of--sexually, romantically, politically, morally, paternalistically--shouldn’t exist, they’re doing what the demons of The Bad Place have done to Eleanor and Chidi. They’re saying “This offends me, so it should not exist anywhere that I can know about or ever possibly visit.” Yes, that’s fic about characters who are underage having sex. Yes, that’s fic about characters having sex in a way that doesn’t fit their canon sexuality. Yes, that’s fic about violence and torture being done to characters for brutal and bigoted reasons. Yes, that’s fic about rape, assault, and abuse. Yes, that’s fic about uncomfortable, even disgusting things. Yes, it’s fic about noncon, dubcon, bad bdsm, ABO, slavery, fetishism, power differences, incest, and unrealistic depictions of drugs or sex. It’s fanart and headcanons about those things too.

These ideas, posts, fanworks, and concepts are part of fiction and literature. They’re part of fandom too, and are in fact one of the ways that fandom has pushed the edge of creative development for decades. As they said in Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog, “We do the weird stuff.”  Now most people in fandom don’t want to be a dick and just shove things in the face of someone who isn’t interested in consuming it--the artists and writers usually want their work to be found by people who want to consume it. So various media platforms have tools or informal conventions for negotiating shared spaces: tags and ratings on AO3, for example, serve a primary service of sorting the archive and secondary service of warning people of undesired content. On tumblr, it’s most an honor thing where people typically don’t follow blogs that post stuff they know they don’t like, and if someone is going to post something controversial they usually throw up an “FYI” at the top, or put it behind a read-more tag. Those decisions are voluntary, however, and everyone who uses a site like Tumblr is doing so with the express acknowledgement that they cannot control what others post, and may in fact browse a post with content they don’t like. For emotional, personal, or political reasons. ((Note: I’m not referring to personal targeted bullying  and harassment, which may violate the TOS of particular social media sites, and is off-topic for this discussion.))

What happens when you see that post that offends you? Well, you have three primary choices. You can engage with the OP, you can ignore it, or you can hit the “block user” or “report” options. At any given time, those various options may be what you decide to do, and that’s fine. That is, pretty much, the system working. It’s not a perfect system for sure, but it’s a reasonably functioning one on sites like Tumblr that try to accommodate the needs of millions of users. (don’t worry, fandom wont stay on tumblr and twitter forever.) AO3 has similar protections in place, with the difference being that AO3 is a far more opt-in user process: there is no personal “dashboard” or “my feed” on AO3. A person has to seek out content and utilize filters, and doing that only gets the user to the basics like title, summary, and tags. To actually SEE content, the user has to willfully click into the story.

I’m describing these processes (which most of you reading this will already know) because it’s important to keep in mind scope when we’re talking about content exposure and potential resulting damage. When you use these sites (and for the most part, the whole internet), the onus is on the user to curate their experience. On Tumblr that means blocking or blacklisting what you see, and on AO3 that means not clicking the link to a story unless you’ve read and accepted the warnings and description. On Google, it means don’t search “HS History teacher Dean takes teen Castiel in the locker room” if you don’t want to read something fitting that description. Yeah, it may offend you that it exists, but that doesn’t mean that you have to engage with it to prove that it’s harmful to you.

I’ve seen a lot of discussion this last 18 months about what people “can” or “cannot” write, draw, post, or squee about. I’ve seen it in The 100 fandom, I’ve seen it in Teen Wolf fandom, I’ve seen it in Star Wars fandom, I’ve heard about it in anime/cartoon fandom, and I’ve even seen it crop up in, OF ALL THINGS, Game of Thrones fandom.  (side note: if you complain about sexual content in fic while also posting gifs of GoT or Sense8 then I personally would like to throw a pie in your stupid face.) For some people, the answer to “I don’t like that this thing exists” seems to be to aggressively rail against it, to the point of targeting the creator, harassing them, or campaigning for websites or forums to change their rules so that XYZ offensive content does not exist. They say “I don’t care if you write it, just don’t post it where I might find it.”  The idea here is that the world around us is better without XYZ being part of our creative works or discussions, and that shunning that content and those creators makes the world (the internet) a kinder, softer, more welcoming place. 

A good place. 

A place where only good things can be. Where no one is made sad, and nothing that happens here can bring discomfort to anyone. And if you want something that’s not allowed in the good place, the righteous place, then it’s you who doesn’t belong. 

To circle back, the show The Good Place has gotten more popular this season, and I couldn’t be happier. I think it’s a fascinating examination of the ambiguity of people, as well as how mental stress can be used to torture. It’s a funny show with a lot of heart, but it’s a dark show too. And one of the darkest, subtlest things the show has ever done was reach into Eleanor’s mouth and change the words she is speaking. Not to prevent actual harm, but to make sure that other people could live in a world where things they abstractly disapproved of didn’t exist at all. For that, Eleanor was denied her basic concept of self and expression. The elimination of communication like that is such a profound violation of individuality and self that it’s almost incomprehensible that any world in which that happens could be ever perceived as a “good” place. That’s not a nice neighborhood where everyone gets along and is sheltered. That’s mind control. That’s gaslighting. That’s Hell.

There are a lot of ways to handle the struggle of content filtering, and hopefully we’ll figure out new and better ways in the future to balance the needs of artists with the needs of consumers, but one way that doesn’t work is censorship. AO3 isn’t going to change its rules to prevent content you don’t like. They know where that road ends. Tumblr might someday, but I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for it. And if they do, this whole network of fan culture will migrate to another site without those constraints. It’s already happened twice since I’ve been around. Purity wank is an old problem for fandom, but it used to be an attack from the outside. Now it’s coming from the inside too, probably because the community is so much bigger. So it’s time to really examine the discussions we hear, and sort out if silencing each other is really going to fix anything.

[intruality-overlord]

Why Are We (Best) Friends?

Warnings: Excessive swearing, alcoholism, mentions of drugs, drug use, suggestive humour, implied sexual content (no smut), some gore descriptions. Generally, Remus stuff.

Taglist: @blogging-time @veraisnotfine @littlestr @jessibbb @ibroken-butterflyi @hi-its-tutty @idkanameatall

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! Updates every Wednesday/Thursday. Have fun :]

Chapter Three 2/2: Duck

Drowning and Itchy

October 4th, 2017.

Remus’s skin was crawling. It scraped against his muscles like a cheap woollen blanket, disturbing his tired bones beneath.

Itchy. It was a strange, unrecognisable itch that he couldn’t satisfy with his usual means. Hugging himself, he frustratedly tried to stop the grating of his nerves. Yet the itch became worse. Now it felt like worms digging through and munching away at his flesh like rotten brussel sprouts (nobody liked those but starving worms and maggots, or goody-two-shoes nerds).

Puppy, Moonshine, his sweet, sweet Apple. His head screamed, ringing in the hollow his thoughts’ absence left. The ringing echoed in his bored ears that tried to stimulate themselves. Yes, Patton would know how to fix whatever this was. Patton, his rebellious little Teddy Bear, could— will fix him.

He didn’t dawdle— not even to acknowledge how funny the word dawdle sounded— sinking down, and rising up in Patton’s room.

The familiar effects of the room half-heartedly soaked his feet like a lukewarm, lapping tide.

“Hiya, Remus. What are ya doin’ here?”

The ringing dripped out his ears like water that had been trapped since he showered last. Basking in the melody of the words, observing the natural shape of the sentence. High pitched, bouncing and slurred, in a minor key. Remus didn’t realise how much he craved his voice until then. Muscles tightly twisted around his ribs uncoiled and he breathed deeply.

“Thomas is thinking about Guys,” Patton said, not knowing what else to say. Standing rigid, his arms tied to his sides, Remus said, “Oh.” Strangling the glass neck of a bottle half empty, Patton added, “And Dolls.”

“Oh,” Remus repeated dumbly. The simple syllable sat anchored low in his throat. “Oh…”

Shoulders hunched, trying to become small and narrow, Patton hugged the bottle to his chest— Then he shook his head, opening his arms and offered the drink. But Remus impulsively took his open arms as a different form of offering, crumpling onto his lap. He tucked his head under Patton’s chin like he needed him to hold his red blotched body, quivering from overstimulation after the fog of his mind cleared— together.

And Patton bundled him in his arms.

The room’s atmosphere was humid with longing, and thick with rejection like so much perfume it stings. Remus let his heavy lids fall, fisting handfuls of Patton’s polo shirt.

Patton gave Remus a small squeeze, then hesitantly peeled his arms away. Confused, Remus only frowned, and borrowed deeper into the embrace. Circling one arm around Patton’s waist, Remus’s other crossed Patton’s back to cling to his shoulder from behind. Their chests were brought flush together. Then Remus felt Patton’s hiccuping breath shivering through his frame.

“You’re not… lea-eav-i-ing?” Patton sniffled. Sheer denial kept Patton’s glass arms, shivering from his squeaky, muted whimper, hovering above the dip of Remus’s back.

“Do you want me to?”

Shallow shuddering breaths desperately tried to dry his tear-waxed eyes. “No,” he pleaded.

“Then no.” And Patton’s collapsed into cuddling the absolute shit out of Remus. Desperate fingers dug into Remus’s shirt. A pinky innocently wandered underneath the fabric making sure Remus was there, and warm, and real, and staying.

It was bizarre to be so close to someone in such an innocent setting, for Remus. Well, perhaps not bizarre, but he wasn’t familiar with it. He could get used to it.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” Patton whispered, sighing as his tears evaporated on his cheeks and fogged his glasses. The hot puff of breath bussed the shell of Remus’s ear. “I think… I just really needed a hug, too,” Remus admitted, nuzzling him even further. Remus hid his nose in Patton’s shoulder, and Patton hid his in Remus’s hair.

“If you ever feel like this again, you can always come to me?” Patton offered, but it sounded mostly like a request. Cold water of dread splashed Remus’s face.

Did Patton always feel this way?

“Really?” Remus asked instead.

“I’ll always be here to give you as many hugs as you want,” Patton said, and Remus could hear his watery smile, “anytime.”

They stayed together for what could have been hours or days, for all they cared. Inevitably, Patton settled his thumbs into Remus’s back dimples— Yes, he was precious, and pliant, and staying. Remus experimented with the spring of Patton’s curls. Until—

Patton felt a pulse through him, like his stomach being pulled down in an elevator. Resisting it made the contents of his stomach slosh. He shuddered.

“R-Remus.”

Unwilling to bother with proper articulation, the contented bundle in Patton’s arms gave a tiny hum. Patton hugged Remus closer when his voice didn’t work immediately. Nose grazing Patton’s chin, Remus tipped his head up ever so slightly in silent question.

“They’re trying to summon me,” he finally gulped.

“Hmpf?” Remus simultaneously startled and wilted. He steadied himself on Patton’s shoulders. “You’re going?” Remus murmured, searching his eyes. Without realising, Remus shifted so his legs also hugged him close around the hips. A protective cocoon of limbs.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can. I promise.”

Patton locked their eyes, and Remus wished his glasses weren’t in the way. He swept his fringe aside, and their eye contact broke only for Patton’s gaze to flick to Remus’s gentle hand and back. The space between seemed as far as the sun from the dark side of the moon.

And Patton slipped out beneath him as he sunk down.

Gracelessly, Remus belly flopped onto the bed without support. Patton’s shoulders were so sturdy, he noted… rather circled and underlined that already present mental note.

Not knowing what else to do, he curled up in the duvet. Aimlessly, he groped for one of Patton’s many stuffed toys. He desperately tried to retain the swiftly abandoning warmth with the fluffy substitute.

He understood, just… he was another kind of mess today.

(}ï{)

Remus had nearly fallen asleep when he felt the foundation of the room shift. It warped around, and Remus quickly checked his eyes with his phone’s camera in case he had gotten high and didn’t remember. Nope, the room was really changing around him and steadily settling into a reflection of the common room.

“Remus!” Patton popped up so quickly he overbalanced. “Puppy?” He sped across the room to see Patton’s eyes glazed like his favourite donuts— “What’s happening—”

“Shut up! You need to leave—”

“Wh—”

“The others are coming— no jokes no time— go go go quick!” He spluttered pressing on his shoulders so hard, the unstable room’s floor gave way, and he was rising up into his own room before he could wipe away the brimming, panicked tears from Patton’s reddening eyes.

They nearly got caught.

They… Thomas nearly… he hadn’t seen Roman since— What would Virgil— oh god— oh, Patton…

Remus could have ruined everything.

His itchy arms felt empty.

(}ï{)

Remus didn’t like Patton’s new cat hoodie.

(But it’s okay, Remus can learn to accept second place.)

Drunkiversary

December 25th, 2017.

I DON’T WANT A LOT FOR CHRISTMAS THERE IS JUST ONE THING I NEED.

Thump.

I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE PRESENTS UNDERNEATH THE CHRISTMAS TREE.

Thump.

I JUST WANT YOU FOR MY OWN.

Thump.

MORE THAN YOU COULD EVER KNOW.

Thump.

MAKE MY WISH COME TRUE.

Thump.

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU!

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Maybe if Patton tried hard enough, he could burst his assaulted eardrums and end his misery. All he needed was enough kinetic energy. He already had a wall to bang his head against, but maybe he should upgrade to a hammer— or better! A—

I DON’T WANT A LOT FOR CHRISTMAS—

Wine bottles littered at Patton’s feet (damn that weak, cheap, shit Thomas bought) obscured the plush carpet beneath that his toes curled and dug into. Their glossy surfaces glared at him. Patton would scream at Roman to shut the fuck up if he was coherent. (Whether he was incoherent from drinking or a concussion, it was a mystery.) As it was, all he could do was rip out the carpet fibers with his toes and—

SANTA CLAUSE WON’T MAKE ME HAPPY.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Would the thick glass bottles be more effective than the wall? Patton wondered, as he tried scrounging up the motivation to convince his arms to budge.

WHAT MORE CAN I DO.

Thump. Thump.

They were going to have a secret Santa together. Patton thought they were going to have dinner, complete with turkey no one actually liked, build gingerbread houses, open Christmas crackers, play card games and monopoly together. Patton thought they were going to drink eggnog together. Patton thought they were going to spend Christmas together.

They had a secret Santa.

And that was it.

LAUGHTER FILLS THE AIR.

Thump… Thump-p-p.

One last pathetic thump like a bouncing tennis ball losing momentum. Alcohol settling more into his system, Patton gave up. He slid down the wall like a hose with its water supply cut off. Screaming, that translated into a sad gurgle, tripped on his teeth.

“Oh, fu— Pat, buddy.”

THE ONE I REALLY NEED.

Bottles clinked together as Remus waded through them. Blasphemy and profanity squeezed betwixt his tense lips like lemon juice. To Patton’s ears, they tasted like the sweetest lemonade.

“Aw, big guy…” Remus murmured, surveying the damage. Patton made a vague noise of disagreement. Settling a hand on his shoulder, Remus crouched down beside him. “Yes, I know you’re short. Doesn’t mean you’re not big in other respects…” he teased with a weak grin. Patton made a louder slightly less vague noise of disagreement. “I’m not calling you fat, you know that,” Remus squawked like an indignant seagull. What an accusation— for Patton to think— what kind of friend did he take him for? A fraud? “Broad shouldered, sure,” he said. “Though, still, not what I meant. Anyway.”

Remus’s suffering smile slipped. Only the corner of his mouth hung on, leaving a minuscule smirk.

(Blearily, Patton noted how Remus was wearing a very amateur, very familiar scarf. That mental note fluttered from his grasp as soon as he mentally wrote it.)

“I got something for you,” Remus eventually said, presenting a blanket to him. The warmest, fluffiest blanket he could imagine.

In Patton’s floating mind, he forgot what colours were, but there were a lot of them. Lots and lots of colours and Patton called them all yellow, for now, since that’s all he remembered. All the many shades of yellow swirled together in intricate patterns, but his eyes were swimming too much to decipher it.

Suddenly, Patton was being swaddled with the blanket— Oh fuck, he realised, it wasn’t the warmest, fluffiest blanket he could imagine. No, it was incomprehensibly warm and fluffy.

Remus wrapped Patton in an extra layer, his amorous arms, and held him snuggly to his beaten, rickety chest. Excitedly, his heart nudged and poked at Patton’s tenderised head. “I’m here,” Remus’s voice was a wisp of steam from a marshmallow piled hot chocolate, “I’m here. You’re not alone, I’m here.” A sugar coated plume of fluffy steam, “See?”

Remus’s trembling tickled Patton as he gave him a grounding squeeze.

“D-don’t,” Remus stammered. Misty eyed, words drowning, “Don’t… don—” he expelled his shivering with a steadying sigh. “You’re not allowed to give up.”

Oh Remus, of course he was always there for Patton.

“I care. You hear me?”

Tears tottered over Patton’s eyelashes. He didn’t even have a Christmas sweater to give Remus.

I DON’T WANT A LOT—

Remus wasn’t exactly what Patton had expected to get— or, heck— fucking hell, deserved even, for a friend. But he was fucking grateful for him.

BABY ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU.

(}ï{)

The blanket didn’t have any yellow, Patton later discovered the next day. With his pounding heachache, he convinced himself it wasn’t worth it to facepalm. It was truly a water marble design of blues, greens, and grays. Patton loved it, and still couldn’t comprehend how warm and fluffy it was.

Next Chapter:

[mrs-skizzors]

It's sad I have to tell you this, but oh well. You do realize you overreacted when someone asked how your drawing was coming along, right? They were just asking how it was doing. They acted so apologetic too, so your first instinct was to be a bitch? Was that really necessary? Being stressed out is no excuse either, seeing as they were probably a friend. I hope you are feeling well, but you have to realize what you did was very morally wrong.

Its sad I have to tell you this, But oh well.

You do realize that you’re not understanding my situation at all, right? If anything you should be capable of knowing that you can’t judge others by your own perspective. Just because it doesnt apply to you doesnt mean it doesnt apply to everyone.

I, as an idividual can send you updates or not, if upon request, But have you even payed attention to those who requested me drawing them with my fursona? Not a single one has wanted to see updates, no one has stated and no one asked for some, Just a few references and descriptions, all important things so I can do the request properly. I doubt it was a friend, Since my friends truly know that I take my times on things and I often do other stuff so I don’t lose interest in some other thing. I don’t even know who the anon was, so I cannot say if I know them or not, so the simple phrase oh ‘’ghhh sorry- i'm not rushing either- sorry i'm getting paranoid now ah-‘’ Doesn’t phase me at all, Why would I care about someone who doesn’t want to face me head on? If I knew who it was, obviously I would change my point of view, I rarely give uptates to people I don’t know who isnt either trading with me or asking for a commission. Not everyone who asked for a request was a mutual/friend, In fact, 3-4 of the people who PMed me/Reblogged the post are unknown people who just simple came for some free art, i don’t judge that at all, getting free artwork is nice. So for one you’re probably wrong on that, dear anon. Notice how hypocritical you are being too, You’re excusing someone who is legit trying to pressure me on FREE artwork, their claim of not wanting to pressure someone is completely irrevelant right now since, taking notes on this, you’re noticing this person wanted me to do 5 fusions in 1 day, /here’s the post and exact number of people who wanted art if you don’t believe me https://loud-gay-noises.tumblr.com/post/168332889617/all-who-wants-to-get-their-fursona-fused-with /  IM.NOT.A.DAMN.MACHINE. A single art piece takes me 4 hours minimum to make you know? I’m also not free all damn day. I’m SURE you’re not an artist that gets trades and commissions each month, you don’t know the pressure I get on my trades and commissions, regardless I want to open these opportunities so people can get artwork, I NEVER stated I would do them yesterday at all, I have all the time in the world to finish these, or not even finish them at all If i wanted to. Here’s my queue and the next people can even tell you the information here is true 

https://loud-gay-noises.tumblr.com/post/168359581567/sooo-queue-art-trade-with-mechanical-monkey

@mechanical-monkey

@fukamisexual

@shelathecat

These are my priority, Tell me anon, would you rather do owed art or gift art? Yeah that’s what I thought. Call me a bitch for all I care, I have my reasons to why I acted the way I did. Not everything involves feeling pity towards people who are ‘’oh so paranoic’’ to contact me in private and kindly ask me for updates, I swear this ‘’anon’’ NEVER contacted me for updates, realize HOW STUPID that is, This anon is pressuring me for artwork, this person i dont have the identity of. No one contacted me for updates, so it’s pretty unreasonable for them to say ‘’Oh you never gave me udates’’ and them come to my blog IN MOTHER FUCKING ANON to tell me this. This is pure and nonsensical BULLSHIT.

Saying ‘’Not trying to be mean’’ or ‘’Im sorry for this’’ doesn’t mean NOTHING in this case since I.DONT.KNOW.THE.PERSON.

Do your research before coming here to give me a damn lecture, person who is ironically anon here. I’m done with your crap.