#imkait

[allthevmff]

Come Around 

by AbsolutelyIris (@absolutelyiris)

A woman travels the world over in search of what she needs and returns home to find it.

fanfic movie poster art by @imkait

More on the WIP IT Good Challenge ---> X

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[cariebishop]

I'm never getting married. You want an absolute? Well, there it is. Veronica Mars, spinster. I mean, what's the point? Sure, there's the initial primal drive.Ride it out.  Better yet, ignore it.  Sooner or later, the people you love let you down. And here's where it ends up: Sleazy men, cocktail waitresses cheap motels on the wrong side of town and a soon-to-be ex-spouse wanting a bigger piece of the settlement pie. That's where I come in. Forty dollars an hour is cheap compared to the financial security sordid photography can secure for you your offspring, your next lover. But do us a favor if it's you in there, dispense with the cuddling. This motel tryst, it is what it is. Make it quick. The person sitting in the car across the street might have a calculus exam in five- Make that four hours, and she can't leave until she gets the money shot.

[thelillykane]

something so magic about you, don’t you agree?

LOGAN/VERONICA AU WEEK. Day 3: Beloved Tropes 

featuring the tropes: found family, friends to lovers, mutual pining, the start of SECRET DATING, and whichever trope it is where their bedrooms are right next to each other and they share a bathroom and begin to fall in love. 

(These three excerpts are from a fic i’ve been slowly, slowly writing for my babe @jessicajoned since 2016, in which Keith becomes Logan’s legal guardian & Logan and Veronica, are, you know, epic. eventually.) 

1. 

Veronica panics and runs away as soon as they’re done kissing. 

Logan’s confident she’s running away from the situation and not from the kissing itself because those kisses were amazing, and his hands feel strangely incomplete and disconnected from his body without the feel of her warm, solid skin beneath them. 

He’d run away from the situation too if he wasn’t still recovering from the fact that Veronica Mars kissed him. That she’d stretched onto her tippy-toes, gotten a firm grip on his neck, and pressed her lips against his lips. That she hadn’t pulled away when he’d deepened the kiss, instead opting for twisting her hands into the fabric of his jacket, brushing her hands through his hair, ensuring that their bodies were completely flush against one another, every inch of him pressed up against every inch of her. 

They’d kissed each other so desperate too, unable to keep their hands or their mouths still, wanting to devour each other– well, at least, Logan had definitely wanted to be devoured by her. Veronica had tasted like marshmallows and promises and her lips had been so soft, too soft and oh, god, he’s getting hard just at the fucking thought. 

He needs to do that – kiss Veronica and be kissed by Veronica – again. 

And that, the fact that all he can see in the future, all he wants from the future, is for them to slow-mo run at each other on the beach and then make out naked while the waves crash over them scares him beyond belief. 

It’s not until he’s halfway home, slamming on the breaks to avoiding running another red light – and yes, he knows, his elaborate daydreaming has gotten out of hand, not that he cares – that Logan realizes he has a much better reason to be scared. Because home, nowadays, is a two story house with Keith and Lianne and their pitbull and his bedroom is nestled into the corner of the house right alongside Veronica’s and they share a fucking bathroom, for fucks sake, and so Logan can’t exactly go home because if he does Keith will know, somehow, what Logan’s been fantasizing about doing to his daughter, and he’ll know that they kissed and that it gave Logan an erection like he was a goddamn middle-schooler, and then Keith will peel all the skin off of Logan’s body and set him on fire.  

Logan’s not ready to die, not without kissing Veronica a couple more thousand times first. Not without tangling his fingers in her hair and kissing at the hollow of her neck and making her come apart with his fingers. 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

He’s fucked. 

2. 

Veronica makes a beeline for Wallace’s room, grabbing a pillow off of his bed and screaming into it. 

That doesn’t make her feel better, so instead she throws the pillow across Wallace’s room where it lands on the floor with an unsatisfactory thud. 

“I just made out with Logan,” she says, as justification for her behavior. 

“Yeah, we aren’t gonna talk about that,” Wallace responds quickly. 

“I kissed him,” Veronica continues anyway. “We were just talking and then I reached up and kissed him. He’s a good kisser.” 

Wallace sighs, long-suffering, and settles onto the bed next to her, looping his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s make this quick, okay, supafly?” 

“I want to kiss him again, Wallace,” she blurts, burying her face into her hands from shame. 

And isn’t that a scary thing to be admitting to her best friend, that this…incident with Logan can’t be brushed aside as a fluke or rogue, one-time impulse. Truthfully, Veronica’s been thinking about kissing Logan for a while, years, embarrassingly. Always curious to know if his lips would feel the way Lilly  always described them, if he would be as good as Lilly claimed, and in the beginning Veronica could brush it off as that– curiosity. It wasn’t that she wanted to kiss Logan, specifically, but that she was curious about kissing in general. 

But then she’d started kissing other boys and she would still catch herself thinking about it, and once he moved in she found herself transfixed by his mouth constantly, watching him chew on his pencils while they did homework together, watching him put chapstick on, watching the shapes his lips made while he mouthed off to her dad and got himself grounded. 

Veronica was never supposed to act on this fixation, though. She was never supposed to actual kiss Logan, and he sure as fuck was never supposed to kiss her back. 

But she had. And he did. 

“Well,” Wallace says finally. “What are you going to do about it?” 

And that was the kicker. Veronica doesn’t have any fucking clue what to do now. 

3. 

Logan’s got the perfect plan for how to avoid Veronica and Keith (at least for tonight, his plan for how to avoid being alone with either of them or having to make direct eye contact with either of them until he’s already on death’s door still needs work), he’s coming home seconds before curfew, and then he’s going to immediately excuse himself and go straight to bed (and hopefully die in his sleep so that he doesn’t have to fucking go through this shit ever again). 

The problem is that, of-fucking-course, Veronica’s got the same plan, which is how they end up trapped in the foyer together with thirty seconds to spare before curfew and each loudly saying, “I’m tired and going to bed.” 

Keith’s got them pinned under his patented I’m-The-Sheriff-And-I-Know-All-Your-Sins stare in a heartbeat. “Anything I should know about?” 

“Nope,” Veronica answers quickly, her voice too perky for someone who’s pretending to be tired. “Everything’s great!” 

Keith’s attention shifts focus to Veronica and Logan takes full advantage of this momentary distraction to bolt up the stairs and disappear in the sanctuary of his bedroom. 

Logan gets into bed, not because he’s tired, but because he knows Keith will be poking his head in at some point to make sure that Logan’s where he’s supposed to be, and even though lying there and listening to Veronica climb into bed and – sure enough – Keith checking up on him before turning in for the night is dull as dirt Logan can’t fall asleep. 

He watches the clock change from eleven to twelve to one to two in agony, trying valiantly not to think about Veronica, if she wore her pale pink sleep shorts to bed tonight with the matching tank top that showed off her delicate collarbone. If her lips are still tingling and her hands are still burning just like his lips and hands are. 

Then, at half past two: “I can’t sleep,” Veronica whispers, padding into his room with the lightest footsteps possible. 

“Me either,” he whispers back, rolling over to look at her. One glance and he knows she’s as affected by what happened earlier as he is– she’s dressed in these awful flannel pajamas that look like they were made out of some old, tasteless grandma’s carpet. 

Worst part? Logan’s fucking into it. 

“I want to do what we did earlier, again,” Veronica says, foregoing any sort of preamble because of course she is. 

“Me too,” he responds quickly, abandoning any last hope of trying to be collected about this. 

They move towards each other as if hypnotized, and this time, when they kiss, they kiss open-mouthed and together. 

“We have to keep this a secret,” Veronica murmurs in-between exploring every crevice of his mouth with her tongue. 

“Don’t worry,” Logan says, bending at the knees to ensure their bodies were aligned in all the right places, his breath trailing cool and promising across her neck. “I’m good at being sneaky.” 

[theawkwardterrier]

Happy birthday to tumblr’s best gf, imkait, who likes Lily/James and whacked out AUs. Here are my best wishes for a spectacular day in the form of “we’re stuck in the British equivalent of Target during the apocalypse” AU. (Some liberties taken as the UK doesn’t actually have a direct equivalent of Target. Which is so sad for them.) Thanks to Katie for the beta.

How Revelatory the Darkness

Lily had thought she was the last one in the store. Usually Trish is the last one to leave before her, and they have just traded smiles as Trish had left through the sliding door. But as Lily walks toward the locker room at the back, James Potter walks up beside her. He says nothing, doesn't even really acknowledge her, and she refuses to feel uncomfortable with their echoing footsteps in the empty store. Because he's James Potter, who gives a special smile when girls ask him where to find things, who ruffles his hair like it'll make his bright red uniform shirt look less stupid, who's probably here late because he's a little obsessive about lining up the DVDs. They haven't really spoken since he transferred from one of the stores across the city, although several times he's headed her way with a smile of intent on his face. She finds herself urgently required elsewhere when he does. When she can, she tries to schedule her shifts so they won’t line up with James Potter’s.

They're just getting to their lockers when James's phone vibrates. Lily buries her annoyed expression in her locker; they're not supposed to have their phones out of their lockers when they're working, but that's James Potter all over, acting like the rules don't apply to him. “Something's wrong,” James says behind her. “Something's happened.” She’s only heard him speak a half dozen times, but his voice sounds truly worried and it makes her ask, “What do you mean?” as she pulls her bag out and slams her locker. “Sirius just sent me this.” He holds up his phone so she can see. She doesn't ask who Sirius is, or what the text means when it says “Mischief managed. Always,” because her own phone blinks on and vibrates immediately with texts. She turns from James's phone and reads them: one from Marlene that says “look out, Lils,” from her mum that says “I love you.” But what gets her is the lonely bubble from Petunia, still in her phone as Tuney no matter how many times Marlene changes it to “the unlucky half of the Evans gene pool” or adds the cranky devil emoji. All it says is “Lily,” and she gets a chill as she scans the word a half dozen times, as if rereading it will make it different or provide an explanation. “Yeah, something's wrong,” she says, swimming up from her own mind to look into James's wide eyes. That's when the lights go out. They don't even look at each other as they turn on the flashlights on their phones and head toward the door. Outside it is darker than anything Lily has ever seen, darker than the monstrous inside of her closet when she was a little girl. James plants himself in front of the door. All the times she's walked through them, read the scrolling instructions along the bottom to “push apart in case of emergency,” she had never really considered being there in case of emergency. “Wait,” she says suddenly as James digs his fingers into the center crevice. “We shouldn’t leave.” He pauses, looking at her patiently, fingers still buried between the doors. “What d’you mean? There are people out there, and we can’t help them if we don’t leave.” “We might not be able to help them if we do leave. We can set up triage here, we have supplies if people come looking. If we go out into it, we’d just be fumbling about with nothing.” He’s facing her fully now, having dropped his hands from the door. They dance around between his pockets, his phone, his hair. A million and one tics, James Potter, but she finds that it bothers her just a touch less at the moment. “You’re on the line between bravery and stupidity,” she says quietly, looking up at him. He has a bit of a prominent, stubborn jaw, and she almost wants to rest her fingers on either side- just the tips- and her thumbs on his chin, to cradle it like her mother would a mug she was examining for chips. “Come back to the right side.” He glances out the door once more, then sticks his phone firmly in his pocket. “Alright, we’ll wait, at least for now. I’m going to get some stuff. I’ll meet you by the jewelry case in a few.” He grabs a trolley and heads towards the housewares department. Lily watches him briefly before glancing at her phone once more. The internet doesn’t load, doesn’t even bring up her Google homepage, and when she goes to dial, the screen flashes Emergency calls only. That’s strangely, minorly comforting, at least: the thought that there was someone out there answering at least the emergency calls. But being locked in a Wilko during the apocalypse with James Potter doesn’t exactly qualify, so she puts her phone into her sweater pocket and goes towards the camping gear. She gets back first, so by the time James wheels up with blankets and pillows and a load of water bottles, she has placed lanterns by the front doors and on either end of the jewelry case. She understands now why he chose this as a meeting spot: the case lights are battery powered, showing off the pieces to whatever cheap, glinting advantage they have. It looks a little like fairy lights for Christmas, but Lily finds herself appreciating the strong, sensible lantern light instead. She sits crosslegged against the jewelry case beside where she has placed her bag. James tosses her a pillow, and she sticks it wordlessly behind her back as he unpacks the rest of his cart, placing bedding and water in neat stacks beside the two of them, reserving one pillow for his back while they wait. She can hear, beneath the squelch of plastic, the hum of the generator, powering the refrigeration equipment. At least we’ll have something fresh for a little while, she thinks, unable to help it. She finds herself slightly off-put by how quickly she is adapting to this. An hour ago she was Lily Evans, shop assistant, but somehow she slipped easily into Lily Evans, apocalypse warrior. The last thing James takes out, tucked into the baby seat, is a small plastic wastebasket. Something makes a squeaky, pinging noise as he picks it up. “Do you mind?” he asks apologetically. “I’ll go barmy without something to do, and I don’t want to drain my phone.” She raises an eyebrow, clueless as to what he’s talking about, but that seems to be enough invitation. He sets the wastebasket a few feet away from them and scoops out of it a handful of the colored bouncing balls that they sell from a bin, six for a pound. He places the balls on the floor between them, lining them patiently in the grout groove of the tiles so they don’t roll. When they’ve settled, he plucks one up and bounces it so it lands in the basket. He does it twice more before she picks up a ball of her own, managing to get two bounces and a smooth leap into the basket. For the first time in a while, James grins at her. “Why do you work here?” she blurts as he picks up a new ball. She’s been wondering since the first day he’d transferred in, with his posh accent and his posture, upright but casual about it, not like when her gran used to flick her on the ear so she would sit iron-bar straight for five minutes before reverting to her usual vague slump. He does his bounce then goes to collect the balls and move the wastebasket a little farther away, for the challenge. “It was to prove something at first. I started university with nothing on my CV but a couple of internships my mum had me do with friends of hers in the summers, filing at wanky law firms, stuff like that, and everyone kept saying I had no idea what it was like. And I didn’t. But then,” he shrugs, sliding half-embarrassed down beside her, “I kind of liked it.” “Really, you like this?” Her voice gets loud in her disbelief. She’d never properly appreciated the height of these ceilings until she hears herself echoing rudely off of them. “I get to help people out and use a label gun. But I’m guessing this isn’t your dream job.” He says it lightly, closing one eye to aim right as he attempts to get two balls in simultaneously. One makes it, but the other goes astray. “Sure. I was the one little girl who used to get out the mop and pretend to be cleaning up baby vomit on aisle twelve while an old gent yelled at me. And I crossed my fingers and wished real hard and here I am.” She tries the double bounce as well, clenching her fist victoriously as they both make it. He looks at her, doubly disbelieving. “Maybe I'll have you crossing your fingers for Liverpool, then.” “Nah, strictly a League Two girl. The triumph of the underdog.” She picks up a new ball but doesn't toss it, just lets it circle her palm lazily. “You know, I thought the next time I would be filling up a trolley here it would include an AFC Wimbledon poster.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Hoping to get my own place soon. Well,” she amends, “My own with flatmates. My friend Marlene and her girlfriend Viv are looking someone for their second bedroom. It's going to be great, once I can afford to move in. And it'll stop my sister from smirking at me for still living at home whenever she and her unfortunate husband come over to my parents' for Sunday tea.” The remark comes out automatically from complaining about Petunia at dozens of sleepovers with Marlene, and she asks her next question hurriedly to cover the awkwardness she feels at the confession. “Do you have any siblings?” “Three brothers,” James says with a grin she can see even in the dim light. “Not blood brothers, but my best mates.” He pulls out his phone and shows her a picture: James, gangling and alight on the left, arm around a mild-looking guy who seems like he doesn't get hugged often, but also like James's arm slung over his shoulder is the best thing in the world. Beside him there's a stout boy with sharp features, mouth open as if calling out a joke to the photographer, and bracketing the end, a bold, handsome boy who appears ready either to hit on her or challenge her to a duel even from the photo. James angles his thumb so the nail taps the screen. “Remus, Peter, and Sirius. We met at school up in Scotland. Same school house, same dorm for seven years. You either become a menace to each other, or you become family.” “And you guys got family.” “And a bit of menace to. They had to put a new section in our yearbook: best prank.” He goes to slide his phone away, the illumination from it dimming as his smile does. “They weren't always kind pranks, though. We didn't always stop when we should have. I regret that.” The way he tips his head back to rest on the glass case behind them so he doesn't meet her eyes, and the memory of her own admission keeps her from asking more about that. “Do you still live together?” she asks instead. “Two and two,” he says, smile spreading back up his face. “Neighboring flats a few streets from here.” “Hope you and Sirius are separated.” She thinks of their unconquerable grins. “Looks like you two would be trouble without someone to keep you in line.” “Hey, I'll have you know that Remus keeps piles of books around his bed that would probably get our place condemned if an inspector ever came to look, and Peter nearly burned the building down last time he tried to warm up some leftover Chinese takeaway.” She laughs at that, his stories and his indignation, laughs harder when he tells her that Sirius had stormed out of his room next to naked and groggily shouted at Peter that he wasn't allowed to use the stove anymore (“If I wanted hot firemen in the flat, I'd buy a bloody calendar!”). After she's settled a little, he asks, “Is it just you and your sister?” “Yeah.” The silence after the word isn't uncomfortable, but she speaks into it anyway. “We don't get on that well anymore, though.” “Why?” “She says I think I'm special, and that I have my priorities wrong. I think her priorities are more whacked than mine, and that she lives a small life.” “What d’you mean?” “She’s just so...stuck. Like all she wants is to do her ironing, listen to the neighborhood gossip, and make her husband’s dinner. Like a time warp. She doesn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. I want to have a life, I want to travel. I can’t stand that I’ve only ever been to Cornwall, and Paris one time on a school trip.” He nudges her shoulder just a little, just a brush. “Place you most want to go?” “God.” She tucks her knees up and rests her chin on them as she considers. “Greece, maybe. Supposed to be absolutely gorgeous, with plenty of good ruins lying around. And I want to go to Salzburg for the Sound of Music tour.” “Been there,” he nods. “Loved it. We even went to twirl on Maria’s mountain a few miles away. Greece, I’ll hopefully get to this summer. I’m planning on doing a tour thing. Last summer before the real world, you know.” “Sounds amazing.” “Try not to drool.” She shoves at his shoulder. “Shut up. Your tongue would be on the floor if the situation was reversed.” He rocks exaggeratedly from the push, laughing. “What’re you studying anyway? Before the real world starts.” He drops his smile, face wiped into snobbishness so quickly that she thinks for a moment that the light must be going. “Law,” he says, chin raised just a little in pride. “Why, so you can work at one of the wanky law firms?” she asks, looking for her James again. He drops his chin, his grin returning easily. “Nah. I want to be a cop. Sirius and I are going to do it together.” She pictures him in a patrolman’s uniform. “Why a cop?” she says around a smile. “There are bad people out there. I want there to be fewer of them.” It sounds so simplistic, but she finds herself endeared by his shrug and the way he ruffles his hair even as he speaks so surely. Something smiles unwillingly in her stomach as she remembers the obvious way he spoke about helping people earlier, as if rushing out into the dark unknown was something anyone would do. “I feel safer already,” she says, teasing gently. “Yeah, what about you?” He’s jokingly petulant, elbowing her softly. “What’re you studying?” She tilts her chin up at him now, teeth showing. “Law. I want to work in domestic violence prevention.” For the first time in a while, James pauses to study her, looking serious. After another minute, he smiles again. “Lily Evans, helping the voiceless find their voices. I can see it.” She feels, quite acutely, the warmth of his arm lined up against hers. She hadn’t noticed how close they were sitting until now. She opens her mouth although she’s not sure what she wants to say, but in the silence there’s a sound like a huge, shaking gasp, and the world turns back on. They both sit blinking for a moment and then the doors slide open. James folds himself to his feet. “Sirius?” “Oh, the boys are going to hear about this,” says Sirius, striding over to them. He looks somehow more relaxed but more dynamic than he did in the picture. Lily pulls herself up as well, although it doesn’t do much good as she stands beside the two of them. “Chatting up a girl while we were shedding tears over our lost mate, gone to his untimely end in the middle of this plastic hell.” “What happened?” Lily demands before James’s indignation can make its way to his mouth. Sitting here with him, she’d almost forgotten about the unknown disaster that had brought them there to begin with. “They thought it was some kind of bioweapon, shut down the whole city while they tried to figure it out. Turned out to just be some poor slob from the National Health who didn’t shower right when he left the lab. Probably going to get hell from everyone he knows when they find out it was him who made us all think the world was ending.” His mouth spreads into a smile as he looks at Lily, and he drapes his arm around James. “Well, maybe not everybody.” “Sirius.” James sounds like he’s stepping on his friend’s foot with the word. “This is Lily Evans.” “Oh,” Sirius says, patting James on the chest with his other hand, “I assumed.” “Wha-” Lily starts. “Want us to walk you home?” James interrupts. Sirius squirms beside him, poorly attempting to contain a laugh. “I know you can make it on your own, but maybe we can see what’s open on the way, grab a bite.” “I could eat,” Sirius says, and James winds his own arm around his friend’s neck. “You can always eat.” Lily puts her bag up on the counter and goes to pick up the lanterns she had brought over. “Yeah, alright. Just let me put these back.” James bends and shoves the pile of blankets into Sirius’s arms. “We’ll see you back here in a few, then.” Lily looks over her shoulder at them as she turns into the camping supply aisle. James has bumped his shoulder into Sirius’s and Sirius bumped him back, so now they are each scrambling for little rubber balls the floor. Lily grins and shakes her head and goes to find the right shelf. Maybe from now on she won’t go out of her way to schedule her shifts so they won’t line up with James Potter’s. Just maybe spending a night on the floor, talking in the dark, means that she’ll do just the opposite.

[ajsabsurdities]

Thought i'd update you guys. I just learnt this song today, so this is what i'll be perfecting over the next few practices. :) Here's a snipit, of hopefully what i'll do a full cover of soon. 

I love this song so much. And i have no idea if i'll do such a poetic beautiful song justice, but as they say. You just gotta keep doing what you do and work hard. :)

xo

[scabopolis]

Right now I am putting together a fic list wherein Logan and Veronica play poker. The person who asked for it said they love the flirtation element of the game. Which is great but ALL OF THE POKER FICS end in SO MUCH SMUT.

There’s not a single fic where it’s like, “well, poker was fun, flirting with you was fun, cordial hand shake, see you tomorrow.” They’re all “poker is fun, flirting with you is fun, BANGING IS EVEN BETTER.” 

Hopefully when the person said they liked the “game-esque flirtation and stuff” the word ‘stuff’ was code for smut b/c they are getting a list ‘o’ poker smut. 

[starlightafterastorm]

imkait

replied to your

photo

:

ONE DAY UNTIL BIRTHDAY. (ok more like 5 hours but...

happy birthday!!

THANK YOU  <3

[allthevmff]

Sometimes

by @mysilverylining​

Duncan stopped taking his meds. Now, one dead Fitzpatrick later, Logan and Veronica need to get him out of town. Too bad they hate each other. AU. Takes place mid 1x3 - Meet John Smith.

Story --> X

Art by @imkait

More on the WIP IT Good Challenge ---> X

More on VM Comment Bingo ---> X

More on the VM 20th Anniversary Celebration! ---> X

[cariebishop]

Veronica Mars is smarter than me.

[elegantlyelephantly]

Adieu; until we meet again

I’ve been pretty much off of Tumblr for a while now. It’s been a good thing. I moved back to where I grew up and I’ve been very much grounded in reality. Soon I won’t have much time for Tumblr in general anyways - with two part time jobs I’m excited for but will total 50 hours a week of work; training over 16 weeks for the Chicago Marathon on October 11; digitizing thousands of family slides, Super 8mm films and photographs; and generally trying to have a social life and re-embrace photography. Anyways, all of you matter to me and I’m so sorry to seemingly fade away - especially in regards to any and all mutuals. If you ever really need to teach me, try Tumblr chat rather than anything else, but I apologize if I’m not good or prompt with replying. Until we meet again, Rebecca (elegantlyelephantly; and formerly known as bigappleelephant)

[thelillykane]

logan/veronica + things you said after you kissed me (for @fatherjerusalem) ~

Even in the backseat of Logan’s Xterra with the air conditioning on full blast Veronica can feel beads of sweat forming at the base of her temples. Her curfew was twenty minutes ago, but they still haven’t managed to untangle themselves from one another, even though Veronica put an end to the marathon french-kissing some time ago.

(This is happening more often lately, curling up against him for no reason at all and feeling content, feeling like she’s at home). 

Logan’s threading his fingers through her hair, totally silent and still  -- for him. She can’t remember the last time she’s seen him so relaxed, maybe she’s never seen him like this. Maybe this ease is something only she has the power to conjure out of him. He conjures the same unique ease out of her, which makes her feel scared and warm all at once. 

Veronica runs the pads of her fingers along his cheekbone and Logan turns his head, presses a quick chaste, tender kiss against the tips of her fingers, before securing her by the waist and maneuvering them into an upright position. 

He bangs his head against the sissy bar on the way up and Veronica’s open-mouthed giggling with her head thrown back before she can remind herself to be cynical. 

She’s expecting Logan to make some quip, but when she finally quiets down he’s gazing at her, a wide grin on his face, and maybe, if she squints, actual hearts blooming in his eyes. 

She clambers off of his lap and crawls into the safety of the passenger seat, her hands fiddling with the edges of her t-shirt, her body feeling empty without Logan’s form molded around hers. 

“My Dad’s going to kill you if you don’t get me home soon,” She says, turning the air conditioning off with a decisive click. “And -- don’t take this personally -- but I’d help him get rid of the forensic evidence by melting your body with sulfuric acid.” 

“No ice bags to alter the time of death for me,” Logan chirps as he glides into the front seat, purposely brushing his body up against hers as much as possible. 

“Nope,” Veronica pops the ‘P’ and smiles easy.

“That’s what every boy longs to hear after a successful date, “Honey, I love you, but I’m going to drop you in a vat of acid now.”” 

There’s a beat of silence before he stammers out: “Or, uh, um-you know.” and quickly busies himself with reversing out of the parking space, a dull flush creeping up his neck and coloring his cheeks. 

Veronica....deeply cares for every aspect of Logan, but she’s especially fond of him when he’s like this -- unguarded and abashed, not hiding behind jokes or long sleeves or overly elaborate hand movements or anger. 

“What?” she asks, sugary innocent. “You’re telling me you’ve never ended a date like that?” 

Logan rolls his eyes and bites his lip to mask his smile, and Veronica turns to face the side window so that he won’t catch her beaming like a fool, her heart thudding fast, maybe with love. 

[persephunee]

I’M GOING TO POST THIS BEFORE I LOSE THE COURAGE TO. 

I did this all in one take, no special mic or anything, just my macbook. I would seriously appreciate if you guys gave it a listen.

OK. BYE. I’M GONNA SIT HERE TWIDDLING MY THUMBS.

@imkait @winifredburkle i tag you guys in pretty much everything so ya. hello from the otherrrr sideeeeeeee. 

[vmficrecs]

December Veronica Mars Fic Prompts

We may be four days late and a few dollars short, but these fic prompts are kickin, kickin, kickin! Don’t forget, authors, if you’re participating in the VM Holiday Fic Exchange, this is an opportunity to incorporate one of these prompts and boost your fic-sposure.

So, let’s do this! WRITE ALL THE FICS. DO ALL THE THINGS.

Option One – Picture Prompt Submission – Cofeee and Snow – It’s said a picture is worth 1,000 words. Lets see how many this inspires our authors to write.

What are you even talking about? This is not our sly way of subliminally asking for holiday fluff. Pshhh. As if.

Option Two - Fic Prompt Generator (Safe for Work) – Take one of these as a starting off point and then let your fic-magination go crazy! Prompts generated by the SFW prompt generator. Again, you don’t have to follow the prompt exactly.

2a. Setting: Hospital; Trope: Fake/Pretend Relationship; Prompt: Secret identity (superheroes, slayers, immortals, mutants, spies etc) 2b. Setting: Fairground; Trope: Enemies to Friends to Lovers; Prompt: Falling asleep on the other  2c. Setting: Office; Genre: Romantic Comedy; Prompt: Grad student rivals competing for the same grant 

Option Three - Fic Prompt Generator (Not Safe for Work) – Take one of these as a starting off point and then let your fic-magination go crazy! Prompts generated by the NSFW prompt generator. Again, you don’t have to follow the prompt exactly.

3a. Setting: Concert Hall; Prompt: Single parents whose children are best friends; Kink: Messiness and markers of arousal (mussed hair; flushed cheeks; swollen mouth; displaying bite marks or hickeys, etc)   3b. Setting: Post-apocalyptic; Genre: Action/Adventure; Prompt: Brief brushes of contact either deliberate or accidental; thighs brushing under a table; comic physical entanglements; someone gripping a wounded character's hand)  3c. Setting: Roadside Motel; Trope: Undercover Married; Prompt: Sex standing up (including against a wall)

Option Four - Dialogue Prompts – Incorporate one of the following lines into your fic.

4a. "Well, this is where I live." 4b. "I'll find her and bring her home, I promise." 4c. "He was unconscious when I found him."

Option Five - OTP Bot — From the old twitter handle otpbot. The twitter might not have updated in some time, but it’s still dang cute. Consider these 5a, 5b, and 5c.

Option Six - Wait, We Know Each Other? AUs – AU prompts where they know each other but they don’t know they know each other.

6a. our kids are bitter rivals and the only time we ever meet is when we’re both called to the principal’s office and whatever maybe i think you’re kind of cute but your kid’s a monster and ALSO someone keeps buying the last everything bagel at my favorite coffee shop 2 minutes before i get there in the morning and has heard about my plight and has started leaving me bragging notes about it AU 6b. there’s an overnight IT person at school who always answers the phone when i call about a problem with my computer and i totally have a crush on their voice and their exasperation and ALSO the bakery down the street is always running out of my fave scones and the adorable person behind the counter can’t hide their amusement and i think it’s super rude but also super cute AU - MAC AND WALLACE!!!! (wait...who said that?) 6c. there’s a person on the bus who was reading the same book as me one morning and now we kind of always talk about our fave books/what we’re reading and ALSO there’s this person i’ve been talking with via eharmony during a free communication weekend but i haven’t seen pictures b/c we’re both cheapskates and refuse to pay, but their emails make me laugh really hard.

GUIDELINES: When you submit your fic, tells us which of the December prompts you’re answering. Fics of all lengths are welcome but we’ve found they usually come in the oneshot range between 1,000-4,000 words.

DEADLINE: Post the fic on your preferred site, and then just send us a link. Please send the link using the VM Fic Recs submit box by Wednesday, December 30th. We’ll post the complete list of fics by January 1st as our New Years’ present to all ya’ll!

As always, if you have prompts for fics you’d like to see written, please send them to us via the VM Fic Recs submit box!

And please forward this prompt to other writers you think might be interested.

[ajsabsurdities]

This cover is for one of my best friends, Tahlia. She's loves this song so much, and she's had a rough year. So honey, this is for you. Love you and here's to hoping next year brings more joy than pain and tears <3 

Special mention the beautiful Cait who is another best buddy of mine. She helped me to perfect it (even though i still feel like there's something missing o_o ) Love you 

[cariebishop]

You get tough. You get even.

[marsinvestigaytions]

jessawarriorprincess replied to your post: robin-scherbatsky is now marsinvestiga...

whoa

It was a long [almost] 4 years. BUT YOU UNDERSTAND, I feel like you were lastofthetimeladies almost as long???

imkait replied to your post: robin-scherbatsky is now marsinvestiga...

YOU DID THE THING. i love it

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT THROUGH THIS TRYING URL RELATED TIME.

forestofbygones replied to your post: robin-scherbatsky is now marsinvestiga...

this url is a masterpiece tbh

So mad it took me as long as I did to come up with it tbh. Thank you greatly for your validation haha.