i had two more but i deleted them because they were shit

EDIT II: This post has been going around as definite proof that the Cult Ending is fact, and the real way the game works. As such, I’ve been accused of spreading misinformation, to a degree that I’ve been getting extremely toxic and damaging messages.

I want to clarify at this point, this post was made as a vent, back when the data-mine of the Cult End was beginning, and we first got the info that it was a file in the game. The Data-Mine is pretty much finished now, at this point; nothing new to find. And it’s revealed that, while the ending is in a playable state, no coding in the game actually makes it possible to play it. There’s no outcome you can get to trigger this end.

No one is sure if this is a cut ending, future DLC, or if it’s a bug messing up the coding trigger. All we know is we found it, and I made a post too hasty in assumption. I made it when we still thought it was possible to achieve.

So please. Take this with a grain of salt. I don’t want to delete this post, as I feel like it would give the bad impression that I simply wanted to spread fire, with no care for repercussions. But I do want people to know I’ve learned now.

I’m sorry to everyone that I deceived with this. It wasn’t my intention at all, but execution doesn’t always pan out like we hope.


EDIT III: Good god, how often am I going to be updating this post.

Well, we have verification the ending isn’t as scrapped as we thought it was.

An update patch for Dream Daddy to fix bugs and add Robert’s Whittling minigame also secretly updated the coding of the Cult Ending. This info was found VIA data-mining the Level18 files as they were before and after.

The updated files include more trigger codings, and has added the achievement trigger for what we presume is “Escape the Margarita Zone,” as it is listed as “ACHIEVEMENT_SECRET.”

While it doesn’t necessarily mean the ending is definitely going to be playable in the future, it does make the ending’s chances of becoming a possible canon that much more of a reality.


Man. The reveal of what Joseph actually is both amazes and horrifies me further than what we’ve seen.

Okay, so data-mining revealed that Joseph does have a good ending, but it’s not much different from the bad. He still remains with Mary, but he takes you in as a side-man (AKA, he stays with you to continue an affair on Mary.) It’s not very good either, so I won’t be surprised to see people voice disappointment when they get it.

HOWEVER, data-mining found something even worse in the code. And that is Joseph has a third ending, a secret ending, and potentially, the TRUE ending of not only his route, but the game entirely. This ending has been dubbed “cult ending.”

This ending ended up revealing that Joseph is not at all what he seems. He’s not a man living a broken marriage, forcing himself to stay with an alcoholic and cheating wife to have some semblance of a family life with his kids. No, this family he’s created is simply a facade to hide who he is.

Joseph isn’t human. He some sort of demonic entity that has an ulterior motive. His children aren’t truly his children in the sense that you’d assume, they’re more like broken portions of himself, inhabiting child-like forms. And Mary is a woman who was forced to play a role to paint a picture, an illusion. Something she can’t escape from, because Joseph literally has her wrapped around his finger.

Joseph also is a leader of a cult (Obviously, given the fact that this ending is dubbed “cult end.”) I’m not too knowledgeable about the cult, but apparently it’s a front to rituals and the like. We know Robert was, at one point, a part of the cult, but isn’t any longer.

And finally, we know Joseph is drawing forth energy from other single dads, possibly both sexually and ritualistically, to bring the “Eternal King” back to life. He specifically needs the energy from single dads, and with some sort of dark magic, he lures them to his part of town for ease of access. He also is responsible for causing the events of them all being single. Every single dad, he influenced their destinies to fuel his own ambitions.

And once you find this out, you start noticing shit everywhere! There’s symbols of his cult in practically every part of town. Certain behaviors give an odd feeling. It’s just… it’s shocking to go back in to see this.

The cult end finishes with a man name Saul Graves coming to speak to you, and telling you to try and live your life normally. I’m not sure the entirety of the end, I guess it implies Joseph is on the run now? I don’t know, if anyone can clarify it, let me know.

Now, this was a beyond shocking twist to a lot of people. Especially since the game is so comedic, and the other routes, while they may have poignant moments, it’s nothing completely horrifying. I know I certainly was beyond stunned to discover this, but I honestly had a feeling something would happen like this. Though I wasn’t expecting it to actually be Joseph’s route to cause this; I thought it would’ve been a route where you don’t date any dads!

And I know that there’s some speculation that the “cult end” isn’t truly canon (As in, Joseph isn’t actually in a cult or is a demon, it’s just there for intrigue) and is just a dream end. But the fact you start noticing shit after experiencing the end, imagery and encounters, it just… I really can’t see this as being nothing but the truth. Even if you don’t get the ending where you find out what Joseph truly is, he’s still a demonic entity with dark motives, influencing the town and its people to his goals.

And then there’s something that’s honestly quite saddening to think. It’s because of the fact that, even if you don’t get the cult end, it doesn’t change what Joseph is. He’s using single dads’ energy to summon his King to the world. He SPECIFICALLY needs single dads. He has caused all of the other dads to lose their significant other to further his goals, from divorce to death. He’s the reason they’re single in the first place.

Because of this, you pairing up with a dad doesn’t give me a good feeling. Because he needs the dads to be single to draw their energy. And he doesn’t care about “true love” or “good ends.” He’ll tear you apart to forward his goals.

Joseph doesn’t care if Craig’s ending was the cutest thing anyone’s experienced. Joseph doesn’t care if you truly have a connection to Mat.

He needs you two to be single to feed off of you both. And he knows how to break you two apart without anyone ever expecting a thing.

Basically, the reveal of what Joseph is makes me look in fear at all of the other dads, look in fear of their good ends. Because even if it’s a happy end we experienced in what we saw, it implies it’s not meant to last. Down the road, we’ll either be broken up by Joseph’s influences, or he’ll influence one of our’s deaths.

And we won’t think anything odd about it. We’ll just think it didn’t work out, or that life is a cruel mistress.

This is so sinister, like I both love it for the intrigue, but hate it because I genuinely wanted cute moments, and now knowing what Joseph is, I can’t see them as cute anymore. I can’t see myself being happy with any of the Dad’s routes, because there’s that looming thought that it’ll just end in sadness again.

Fucking christ. I didn’t sign up for Dream Daddy to be this dark.


EDIT: This post really blew up, to the point that people are wondering if I’m making shit up due to lack of sources. I wasn’t intending this to get big, it was a vent/personal post, with at most some theories on implications that I thought would get lost to the various other posts people make. I made a reblog showing links that give more info, but for future people that find the post, here are various links on the info we have on the route.

Here’s some images found that pertain to this ending.

Here’s a transcript of how the route goes, from people descrambling the code. Also contains some more images.

Better quality textures of “Cultist Joseph.”

And finally, here’s how people did the data-mine.

post-emoji movie Trauma

WARNING: the following text contains spoilers and can be considered disturbing to some readers. especially my brain, because it’s leaking out my ears after typing this.

This is the first movie ever I’ve gone to see on opening night. And let me just say that, for the record, I’m glad I went to watch with friends. Without them, I would have most likely calmly exited the room, climbed up to the roof, and dived straight off.

Keep reading

the worst thing about trying to decide to read a fic:

-horrible writing.

-the summary is good but the story is written in a different language or is badly written.

-opening it to find no spaces between the paragraphs.

-both your otp and notp is tagged and you have no clue if you want to take a risk or not.

-tagged major character death and you start sweating.

-hasn’t been updated in 80 years but the summary is on point and their the best fucking writer ever.

-you start reading only to find that the person updates every ten years and you just happened to catch them on a day they finally updated.

-you find a writer and check them out, only to find out they mostly write about your notp - and of course they always update, have perfect writing and have stories that are epic.

-stories with so many fucking tags, you just shake your head and move on.

-the “i suck at summaries please check it out still” and you just, pause because it has your otp and you debate whether or not to take the risk.

-you find a pairing you never considered before and think holy shit, that could be hot and spend all day hunting through the tag.

-you ship a pairing so fucking hard, only to find like two fics and you start weeping.

-when you find a perfect story only to check the tags and see some weird shit that disgusts you and you scream why.

-a fic with good writing and summary but it’s so short or is only fan-art.

-a crossover fic where you have both of your fandoms but don’t have both of otps, just one.

-one shots that are so good you wish they were longer.

-when your notp is tagged but it’s labeled as a past relationship or says your otp is endgame, and you have to go through the notp’s awkward breakup in order for your otp to happen.

-when someone doesn’t tag properly and a plot twist hits you and you want to cry.

-you finally find a great fic that has been updated and the last update says writes block, personal issues- can’t do this, asks for co-writer, discontinues it or says lol i hate how this is turning out, deleting.

-when a writer as twenty stories to update and you cry because you like all of them and you have to wait.

-when you remember a story from like five years ago and you search for it, only to find it’s been deleted or can’t seem to find it anywhere.

-when a writer gives you an update schedule and you’re excited because they follow it but then they start missing it and you just…

-when a writer deletes a story and rewrites the same story but you like the original better.

-when your reading a story about a rare pairing that interests and your otp hate each other or just friends and it’s just so weird to read.

-when one half of your otp is in another relationship and the other half shows up with someone else and then you remember, right i’m not reading a story about my otp so i can’t get mad.

-when your otp is popular but it’s not as popular as another ship in the fandom and you hate how the other ship as so much more stories than your ship.

-when you try to read an ot3 relationship because it has two characters you love but the other character is usually from your notp and you hate when your notp share moments.

-when you beg an author (usually one where they aren’t in the fandom really) to write more stories about your otp and they say maybe and it never happens.

-when the writer literally shits on your favorite character and you can’t go through it anymore.

-when your otp isn’t the main pairing and you don’t really care about the other pairings in the story and skip to your otp parts.

-when a story has a million words and it’s so good and you know that you will spend all day and night reading it until your eyes hurt.

-when a story have 200 parts to it and you lose all hope after a while because the story is dragging.

-when your otp is going through something and so many stories are filled with angst, fluff and hurt that it makes you cry because yup, i need to read about my pain for my otp.

-when the writer refuses to write the smut you been waiting for and your otp is stuck in unresolved tension mode forever.

-when the writer unexpected changes the story’s events and you are disappointed by the direction.

-when you find a great au and the characters are so out of character… it makes you sad.

-when you open a fic only to find you hate the point of view and you scream.

-when you request a prompt and the author writes it but you are disappointed and just smile through the pain.

-when you have such a good idea in your head and you try to write it but it’s so bad that you delete it and cry, hoping someone else writes the brilliant idea that you had.

-when you don’t ship something anymore but see a great plot and you click the story and take a deep breath - because shit is about to go down.

-when you reading a great story but get distracted and skip some parts, shit goes down in between and then you think fuck, and have to start over.

-when it’s tagged “slow burn” and you say i can do this and it’s chapter 30 and my ship still hate each other like what.

-when the author says this is their first time writing smut and you think on god they better do this right - only to find out they writing eight pages on your otp making love. like yes.

-when the smut is so rushed or improper you feel cheated and log off because done. like so done.

-when it’s tagged “everyone lives” and your eyes water because that’s all you ever wanted in life.

-when the author leaves a cliffhanger and says in the author’s note “lol sorry about the cliffhanger, i’ll update soon”. you ain’t sorry, stop lying.

-when you see that the story is complete and do a happy dance, only to realize that it ended badly or the sequel/series hasn’t been updated.

Sexting (Jimin smut)

Originally posted by minblush


Summary: On a lonely night, you decide to sign up for an anonymous sexting site. Of course you are matched with the notorious fuckboy you’re constantly trying to avoid. Park fucking Jimin.

Themes: Sexting, Fuckboy Jimin, College AU.

Pairing: You x Jimin

Word Count: 4k

This fic contains: Explicit and graphic depictions of smut, sex over the phone, swearing. 


ENTER USERNAME:

Cleopatra123

WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR?

Male/Female

WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

I’d rather not say/enter here:

WHAT ARE YOU INTERESTED IN?

Decent conversation/making friends/finding a language buddy/other

PLEASE INDICATE YOUR AGE PREFERANCE:

19-24

CLICK ‘CHAT’ TO BE MATCHED WITH A PARTNER!

YOU HAVE BEEN MATCHED WITH ‘THOR562’.

THOR562: 21 years old- Seoul, South Korea- also interested in ‘other’.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHAT?

Yes/No

YOU ARE NOW IN A CHAT WITH THOR562, ENJOY!


Keep reading

BTS snapping at their s/o accidentally

Jin

As you entered the door after a long day of work, you smiled as you saw the boys scattered about. It was finally a day where you could stay at the dorms with them, after their insanely hectic schedule. You could smell food coming from the kitchen, and you realized how hungry you actually were. 

“Hey y/n” rap mon said from the sofa, you waved, dropping your bag and walking over to the kitchen. You ruffled Jungkook’s hair on the way, and he huffed, attempting to fix it.. You crept into the kitchen, seeing Jin working at the stove. You smiled to yourself, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Hobi the food isn’t done” he said in frustration. you stifled a giggle, looking up at him.

“I’m gonna have to talk to Hobi about being touchy with my man now aren’t I?” you said. He smiled, quickly trying to face you, but his hand hit the scolding hot pan in the process.

“FUCK!” he yelled, jumping back, causing you to let go.

“shit baby let me help..” you said, reaching for his hand but he snatched it back, burning it once more.

“y/n.. get the fuck out of my face… you’ve helped enough” he growled. You felt yourself tense up. Jin never cursed at you. You looked over, and saw the six boys watching you with their mouths hanging open. Refusing to let yourself cry in front of them, you swiftly walked to the living room, grabbing your bag, and heading home. 

A few hours later, after feeling like absolute shit, you heard a knock at the door. Puffy eyed, you opened it and saw Jin standing there with a Tupperware container in his non bandaged hand, and flowers in the other. You leaned against the door frame, staring him down. 

“What?” you said, in an almost inaudible voice. He melted at the sight of you, almost not being able to let words out.

“I’m so sorry.. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.. and I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.. I swear I won’t do it again..” he whispered.You chewed on your bottom lip, and saw tears weld in his eyes. You broke, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissing his cheek.

“it’s okay.. come inside..” you whispered. He softly kissed you, accepting your invitation inside.

Originally posted by lavender-kills

Suga

You smiled, happy at yourself with what you had done. Yoongi was at practice, and you managed to clean his studio. It was a disaster with the upcoming comeback. You sorted all of his papers, filing them all onto his desk in folders. You made sure everyone’s lines was sorted, songs were sorted by track number and color coded. Took his trash out, dusted, swept, the whole nine yards. Organized cd’s, flash drives, everything. anything to make yoongi’s life easier. You knew the environment was becoming a lot for him. You just wanted to make him happy. You ordered take out, and waited for him to stumble into the door, because he was coming to work in the studio after dance. It was simply meant to be a time you two spent together. As you heard the door creak open, you watched as an already exhausted yoongi walked in. You watched as his face contoured into an expression you didn’t expect. He looked angry. Infuriated. 

“what did you do..” he said.

“I cleaned up for you…. I know you were complaining that you needed to clean up.. so I did it for you..” you said, in almost a whisper. 

“What.. did… you… do..” he said. You stood silent.

“I had everything placed specifically a certain way! What the hell would possess you to do this!!!” he yelled. You stood dumbfounded. 

“Yoongi i-im sorry I only wanted to help….” you said.

“just.. get out of here please. I have to sort this mess you made.” he spat. You rose silently, walking out of the building. You stood outside, feeling confused, and guilty. While you did that, yoongi realized what you had done, and felt guilty immediately. You had made it easier for him, leaving little post it notes on the computer, indicating what meant what, and what color was assigned to whom. He also saw the bag of take out, and sighed. He ran outside, hoping to catch you before you got too far. 

“y/n..” he said breathlessly. You turned around, seeing him crouched over trying to catch his breath.

“i’m sorry… come here..” he whispered, taking you in his arms.

“I’m sorry.. I’m just stressed.. I shouldn’t have come at you.. you were trying to help me.. I love you.. thank you.. lets go eat..” he whispered, softly kissing you. You followed, slightly confused, slightly happy. 

Originally posted by jeonbase

J Hope

You were frustrated. Hobi hadn’t been home in hours. This was a reoccurring thing. The comeback was slowly approaching, so he spent countless hours in the dance room. He was constantly out, leaving early, returning late. You genuinely missed him. He wasn’t only your boyfriend, but your best friend. You sat on the sofa, fighting sleep to see him at least once. Hour ticked by. 12 Am. 1 AM. 2 AM. 3 AM. He walked into the door at nearly 4 in the morning. You sat up, and he sighed, taking his shoes off. 

“Hi baby..” you said, making your way over to him. He took his jacket off, not uttering a word. It was the first time you’d seen him in a while. You just wanted to hug him. You took the jacket from him, placing it on the sofa, and wrapped your arms around him. He pushed you off, with glaring at you.

“Geez you’re so clingy. I just got here and I’m tired” he said. You were dumbfounded, but mostly hurt. 

:Well. Sorry for being clingy. I just missed my boyfriend, and wanted to fucking see him so I stood up till almost 4 in the morning to see him. Sorry that I fucking missed you.” you said, tears burning your eyes. You made your way to your room, laying in bed. He went to the shower, and you heard him cursing under his breath. Tears slowly trickled down your cheek as he crawled into bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him. You sniffled, crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry.. I’m just tired with the come back.. I didn’t mean it.. you know i love when you’re all over me…” he whispered in your ear. You remained silent. He softly kissed your shoulder and you melted against him. 

“I missed you too..” he whispered in your ear. 

Originally posted by yourpinkpill

Namjoon

Your boyfriend was always pranking you. Always. You decided to mess with him. You stored all of his tracks onto a USB, Triple checking to make sure it was all okay. You slipped it into your pocket, and deleted it from his computer. He walked in, sweetly kissing you and you toyed with your hands

“Joon.. I don’t know what I clicked.. but I accidentally deleted something off your laptop..” you whispered. He paled immediately. 

“not the tracks.. please tell me it wasn’t the tracks..” he whispered. You remained silent. He moved you to the side, seeing that they were gone.

“y/N WHAT THE FUCK!” he yelled. You jumped, not expecting that.

“I worked for weeks on this shit! Why the fuck did you touch my shit! How could you do something so idiotic!” he yelled. His voice boomed in the enclosed room. You felt small suddenly, tossing him the flash drive.

“it’s on here.. It was a prank…” you whispered, walking out of the room nearly in tears. He sighed, following you out. You locked yourself in the bathroom trying to calm down. He could hear your hiccup sobs from the other side of the door.

“baby i’m sorry.. please come out..” he said. You made your way out, arms crossed, sniffling. 

“You yelled at me..” you whispered, near tears again. He took you in his arms, trying to calm you down.

“i”m sorry baby..” he says.

Originally posted by ksjknj

Jimin

You were beyond excited. It was weeks of countless stress, studying and worry. You got your grades from your final exams. You passed! You literally ran to where your boyfriend was, in the dance hall working on dances for the comeback. You couldn’t contain your excitement.

“Jimin guess what!” you squealed.

“Not now” he mumbled.

“really quick baby I have great news!” You squealed. He glared at you, but you were still giddy and excited. 

“I said not now! I’m busy!” he yelled. You took a step back, trying to figure out who he was talking to. You shoved the paper in his chest, becoming angry like he was and walking out. When he would get home he would feel bad, seeing you on the sofa with your arms crossed, clearly upset. He crawled next to you, laying his head on your lap and not letting you push him off. 

“i’m sorry… I was rude.. Congratulations jagii.. you passed..” he said. You stared forward, ignoring him. He sat up, pulling you onto his lap, and placing his plump lips on yours, knowing you wouldn’t be able to resist. You kissed back happily, and he smiled.

“Let’s go celebrate” he said, picking you up and taking you to the bedroom and you started dying. 

Originally posted by mvssmedia

V/Taehyung

As you dropped off the last bag, you felt satisfied. You and your boyfriend decided to donate to the less fortunate. You both donated a bunch of clothes, as well as some money to help those in need. You went home, and saw your home in a war zone.

“Where is it!!!!!” you heard your boyfriend yell. You tiptoed over shoes, and sweaters, careful not to step on anything.

“baby?” you asked, looking into your bedroom.

“I can’t find it!” he yelled

“my sweater! my favorite sweater!” he yelled. You sat there, completely and utterly confused. Then you realized that it must have been at the top of the donations pile. Tae had the habit of throwing things in random piles, so you assumed it was for donations.

“… it wasn’t the black one with the grey writing on the front was it..” you asked.

“yes! have you seen it?” he asked.

“baby.. don’t get mad.. I assumed it was donations… It was in the pile-” you started

“What the fuck y/n!” he yelled.

“it’s not my fault you throw your shit around!” you yelled back. You stormed off into the living room, cleaning up. After he calmed down, he pulled you close to him on the sofa.

:im sorry.. it was my fault.. it’s going to someone in need.. you still love me right?” he teased. You huffed, looking at him.

“Sadly.” you responded. He showered you with kisses, and you smiled, feeling 1000000x better.

Originally posted by bwipsul

Jungkook

You sat in the kitchen, working on an assignment when you heard the front door shut. Your favorite time of day. Your boyfriend, Jungkook was finally home. It was really busy for the both of you lately. School had started again, so you were constantly studying, and his comeback was slowly creeping up, so he was always at practice, and rarely home. You missed him, and rarely got to see him. You were only lucky this time because you were up late to finish something. You walked into the living room, and saw him elevating his leg.

“What happened?” you asked, softly kissing him. 

“I fell at practice.” he groaned. you tried fixing the pillow, but he moved away. You ignored it, walking to the kitchen and getting him an ice pack.

“my poor baby.. do you want something for the pain?” you asked. 

“I’m fine. You’re acting like my mom” he said. You frowned, trying to put the ice pack on his leg. He moved away once again.

“I said i”m fine!” he yelled. You looked at him, irritation taking over.

“You bust your ass, I’m not the one who hurt you. Stop acting like a dick” you said, throwing the ice pack at his chest. You stormed out, and he sighed. Your attitude was the craziest thing he had experienced, but it was his favorite thing about you. You didn’t take shit from anyone. He felt guilty immediately, letting his pride get the best of him when you were only trying to help. You shut your laptop, going to bed. He hopped over, laying next to you and pulling you onto his chest.

“You’re sexy when you’re mad” he teased.

“Do you want another bad leg?” you asked. He grinned, softly kissing you.

“I’m sorry.. you were trying to help.. thank you babyyyyy” he said gooffily, trying to kiss you up.

“Jungkook you need to watch yourself.” you said. He continued kissing on you, eventually making you give in. 

“I love you..” he whispered.


Remember our messages are open for requests! Send us anything you’d like!! Hope you enjoyed

-Lia  ♡ 

broken glass | steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x female reader

synopsis: y/n is having trouble moving on after being unexpectedly dumped by steve.

warnings: angst

word count: 910


The wooden picture frame stared back at her.

She paced the length of her bedroom, gazing at the photo with such anger. She had spent the last six hours cleaning out her room, ridding it of anything that sparked a memory of him.

She wanted to forget him and move on. She wanted to pretend their relationship never existed; like she hadn’t spent the past two years of her life falling deeper and deeper in love with some guy.

She packed all of his things into a box, labeling it “Steve.” She thought about throwing it all out, or burning it in her backyard, but she decided to just let the box sit there. Maybe one day she’d build up enough confidence to drive the box over to his house and dump it on his front porch. 

She walked over to her mirror, chuckling as she gazed at her reflection. There was mascara running down her cheeks from crying so hard and red lipstick smudged across her chin. But she wasn’t paying attention to those things, more so intrigued by the necklace hanging around her neck.

She ran her fingers over the gold-plated pendant and shook her head. The pendant was simply a letter “S”, another one of the many gifts he had given her.

The day he gave it to her was one she wouldn’t forget. February 14th; how cliché of him.


“Thanks for tonight, I had a great time.” Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as Steve spoke. This was her first real date and she knew her parents were probably watching them from the front window, making sure Steve brought her home by curfew. She had told her parents that they were going to dinner and a movie, but Steve actually parked his car a few doors down and took her virginity in the back seat. 

“Yeah, me too.” She nodded, awkwardly looking down at her shoes.

“Shit, I almost forgot.” Suddenly Steve reached into the pocket of his jacket, fishing around for something and pulling out the necklace. Y/N smiled to herself as Steve motioned for her to spin around. He latched the gold necklace around her neck and pressed a kiss right below her ear before asking her to spin back around and face him.

“I love it.” She whispered, fingers grazing over the pendant.

“I love you.” Steve blurted out of nowhere. This was the first time he was saying those three words and the smile on his face let her know he was being genuine.

“I love you, too.” She nodded, gently cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his cheek, remembering that her parents were definitely still watching.

“Forever and always, I promise.”


Bullshit.

Steve always said that forever and always crap and she now knew he was lying. When she said I love you, she meant it. But turns out Steve wasn’t as honest because he had no problem dumping her over the phone and walking out of her life forever.

Maybe she was being over dramatic. Maybe she wasn’t. She was just hung up on the fact that Steve knew exactly what heartbreak felt like, but still decided to put her through this. She thought their relationship was going well, never expecting him to end it all so suddenly and without a reason.

Y/N grabbed a hold of the necklace, forcefully yanking it from her neck. The clasp broke and she stared down at the now destroyed necklace. She hadn’t taken it off in over a year and surprisingly felt no remorse. She walked over to the box of Steve’s things and threw the broken necklace inside.

All of the pain she once felt was slowly disappearing. Almost as if with every item she got rid of, she was healing a bruise that Steve left behind.

She took a deep breath, turning back to her nightstand and the goddamn picture frame perched on it. This was the millionth time that she was trying to get rid of the picture frame and the last memory of Steve she had left.

She paced over to the picture frame, glancing at the photo inside. She just wanted to delete the memories of that night, forget them forever.

The photo was just a photo. A simple snapshot of her and Steve on prom night. But for some reason it triggered a collection of emotions. It made her angry, sad, frustrated and confused. The people in the photo were so happy. They had the world. The smile on Steve’s face was so genuine. How could he have been so in love with her then, and so over her now.

Y/N hadn’t even noticed the hot tears that were streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t realize that her hands were shaking or that her lip was bleeding from biting down on it so hard.

And then out of nowhere, she cracked. She let out a loud high pitched scream, throwing the picture frame across the room and watching it bounce of the wall and shatter into a million pieces. She tried to catch her breath, running a hand through her hair as she calmed down. She was in a trance, and the voice coming from the doorway was the only thing that snapped her out of it.

“Y/N, what did you do?”

As she spun around she came face to face with Steve Harrington himself, staring at her and the mess of broken glass.

Writing is Hard, pt 9: Sexting

Summary: You send Dean some dirty pictures.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Warning: Smut, taking pictures during sex

Word Count: 2600ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO


You hold up the phone, then almost instantly put it down.

This is stupid.

No. This isn’t stupid. This will be hot. Just do it.

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  • hello yes i have come to deliver soft touches with andrew and neil bc i have a lot of feelings about this as their relationship develops and how both of them get used to having each other around and sinking into the comfortable notion that as long as they have each other they are Safe
  • it starts off fucking small, they’re sleepy and sitting on the bean bags in the living room watching this supremely crap movie, half the lines don’t make sense, there’s no comprehensible plot, the main character keeps not dying in circumstances that should definitely induce some level of death, and there are some of the most cliche lines ever written, but they’re sitting close together, not touching but close enough that they can feel each other’s body heat and its dark and about 3 am so nothing feels completely real yet, it’s just soft and blurry in a comfy way
  • and neil feels sorta warm inside, especially whenever andrew lets out a little huff at the shenanigans occurring on-screen, (how andrew is able to convey so much disdain in a single exhale neil doesn’t know)
  • but he wants to show how much he is enjoying this strange little moment so he catches andrew’s eye next time he looks over and holds up a hand in a silent ‘yes or no?’ and andrew nods in response and neil just gently links their pinkies together like they’re making a promise 
  • andrew does another one of those little huffs but this time it’s laced with a little bit of fondness and he squeezes nails pinky 
  • they fall asleep like that and nicky comes through in the morning and sees them and just grins and decides to leave them to it
  • the first time the rest of the foxes see any of this is at one of their mandatory Team Bonding movie nights at the girl’s room
  • they’re all getting ready to continue neil’s movie education with a Harry Potter marathon and they’re all sorta squished up onto any available surface bc college dorms are not known for their spaciousness, there’s not an available seat anywhere, and andrew isn’t here yet (he likes to make a point of being late to these things just to express that he does not want to come)
  • the movie is just starting when he comes in and there’s no space apart from on the floor and the floor is not gonna cut it if they plan on watching three movies in a row
  • so he stops infront of neil, who has somehow managed to snag a whole half of the sofa to himself and asks ‘yes or no?’
  • neil doesn’t really know what andrew wants but its always a yes
  • and andrew just sorta throws himself on top of neil but gently and makes himself comfortable there while neil doesn’t move bc he isn’t sure what the current boundaries are and the foxes look at each other frantically but don’t say a peep bc they know that if they do andrew would move away and neil looks genuinely happy about this development and no one wants to take that away from him so they just let it pass without comment 
  • andrew just grabs neil’s hands and puts one in his hair and links his pinky with the other while maintaining his most expressionless face and neil is positively grinning now and hiding in in andrew’s shoulder 
  • so now they do hugs and wrapping themselves around each other for comfort, not all the time, bc sometimes it would only make things worse, but when they’re both in a good place it makes them feel grounded 
  • and bc andrew is a little shit he usually shoves his freezing cold feet up against nails legs to warm them up and neil is so fucking done with him but also doesn’t move away, he does heave out the world’s most exasperated sigh tho
  • they also get used to the idea that touch can be good to help on bad days, to give them something to take their minds off it
  • it’s the anniversary of Baltimore and neil is feeling off balance, not the worst he’s ever been but he feels frayed at the edges, like one tug on the wrong thread could unravel him 
  • so they go up to the roof because that’s always been a place that was Theirs, that, despite the risk of taking a wrong step and toppling off the edge, has always felt safe to neil
  • so they sit and dangle their feet off the edge and neil asks ‘yes or no?’ and when andrew says yes he leans over slowly until his head and shoulders are resting on andrews lap and he picks up andrews free hand which isn’t holding a cigarette and places it on his head 
  • andrew raises his eyebrows an amount that would be imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t neil and didn’t categorise all of the minute expressions that crossed andrews face and digs his fingers into neil’s curls, stroking through them  and making them into more of a mess than they already were 
  • and neil feels himself relax and just concentrate on the feeling of andrew’’s fingers landing through his hair and his soft thighs under his head and he feels a little bit better, not completely back to normal, but like normal might be attainable again 
  • they also both draw on each other all the fucking time, leave a felt tip anywhere in their vicinity and half an hour later there’ll be a trail of fox pay fronts winding around andrew’s hands and a scribbled percentage and some random doodles on neil’s
  • the moment that really drives home how fucking far they’ve come, andrew , in particular, comes a couple of years into their relationship (and it is a relationship, despite andrews protests that it’s nothing)
  • its when andrew has been having a particularly good day, he feels lighter inside than usual and he’s been thinking about neil most of the day bc neil is the sort of pest that won’t leave andrew alone for a second, its so stupid and he really should be able to go out to buy ice cream without remembering the time when neil had been instructed by matt to get andrew something for valentines day and had just bought him a fuck tonne of ben and jerry’s bc he couldn’t think of anything else 
  • but andrew gets home and he wants something like its an itch under his skin that he cant quite scratch, he wants to push his boundaries bc bee had been lightly nudging him for weeks about it and he’s poked the idea in his head a lot over the past few weeks and it seems okay
  • so when he finds neil sprawled out on the bed that used to just be his but at some point over the last couple of years had morphed into theirs he tells his to ‘move the fuck over josten honestly this is my fucking bed’ as he pulls off the grey t-shirt that he thinks is his but really it might not be and he lies down on his side with his back to neil
  • neil is already pretty surprised, bc even after all this time he knows andrew doesn’t like having his back exposed
  • and then, to nails even further surprise he hears “touch my back, yes or no?” and fuck he feels so fucking happy bc holy fuck he earned that level of trust holy shit 
  • neil night have been on a championship team for years now, winning two more trophies but this, earning andrew’s trust, is his proudest achievement 
  • so he whispers a yes and then starts to lightly trail his finger tips down andrew’s spine and connect freckles like dot-to-dots and it’s so Gentle 
  • and andrew can feel how careful neil’s being and he feels safe bc even though he can’t see whats behind him, neil’s got his back
What are the Odds?

Summary: After a summer of messing around, you were now ready for your first day as a NYPD officer. However, nothing could have prepared you for the surprise that was in store for you. Your team consists of all your summer one-night-stands. What are the odds? (Modern-Day Alternate Universe, Possible Drabble Series)

Author’s Note: Let me know if you’re interested in this becoming a series! Based off of Mamma Mia!.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Words: 855

Originally posted by buckysqueenbitch

Originally posted by imagine-that-marvel

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anonymous asked:

May i request for RFA and the Minor trio with MC getting beaten by her ex and hospitalized? Thank you!! :*

Hey hey! More angst!

Yoosung

  • He cries
  • How could this have happened?
  • Yoosung is with her through as much of her recovery as he can
  • She forces him to go to work, though, so he’s not taking care of her 24/7
  • Until she can come home, Yoosung spends every night at the hospital (he doesn’t go home unless he has to take care of Lisa or needs to change his clothes)
  • Once she’s out, he makes sure that everything is comfortable for her
  • He’s such a worrywart
  • Her recovery is slow, but she’s well taken care of, and when she’s comfortable, she returns to work
  • It’s not until the ex tracks her down again (this time at home) hoping to hurt her again because he wasn’t done with her and only stopped because someone called the cops
  • Except Yoosung is awake (playing LOLOL) when he breaks in, and goes a bit yandere
  • In that he grabs a knife from the kitchen and goes after the guy
  • He manages to cut the guy, call the police, and the guy is put in jail for breaking and entering, premeditated assault, and attempted assault

Jaehee

  • “She has multiple puncture wounds from being kicked with high heels. She’ll likely have scars for the rest of her life.”
  • Jaehee has to force back the tears
  • Especially when she sees MC
  • But Baehee stays strong for her
  • Jaehee brings tea and desserts to MC when the doctors allow
  • While MC is still in the hospital, the ex, who Jaehee has seen in pictures before, walks into the cafe with a large smile on her face
  • She’s gorgeous, unscathed, and Jaehee is furious
  • She refuses to serve the woman
  • When the woman starts throwing a fit about it, Jaehee pulls up a picture of MC at the hospital
  • “I have the right to refuse service to anyone. Especially the woman that put my girlfriend in the hospital!”
  • The woman begins laughing
  • “So that’s why? That means you’re Jaehee! You know, she called out for you when I kicked a hole in her stomach! So pathetic! And you’re not even very pretty! Guess she downgraded!”
  • Jaehee recorded everything, and there was a cop in the cafe that was a regular and usually showed up in uniform, but was in civvies today.
  • The woman is arrested on the spot for committing assault (possibly with a deadly weapon because heels) and confessing in front of a whole crowd and witnesses
  • Jaehee is able to tell MC all about it when she goes to the hospital that afternoon with a smile on her face

Zen

  • Sees red
  • The moment he hears that she was beaten, he wants to hunt down whoever did this to her and return the favor
  • However, when he sees her, it’s another story
  • He sits with her, stays with her as much as he can, touches her when he’s allowed to be a source of comfort
  • Hell, he takes time off work to take care of her as much as possible
  • He’s super considerate and holds her whenever she gets scared
  • When they go back to work together, she’s still pretty banged up, and the people that Zen has worked with before that know her are super freaked out
  • Zen explains what happened, and honestly, some of them are just as eager to start a fight as Zen
  • When Zen is walking her out to the cab they’re taking home one night, they pass the guy that beat her, and she just about screams
  • Once he realizes who the guy is, Zen throws a punch
  • Nobody hurts MC and gets away with!!
  • Zen doesn’t beat the guy nearly as much as he hurt MC (he believes the guy needs to be hurt double what he did to her), but makes himself clear
  • “If you ever so much as look in MC’s direction ever again, I’m going destroy you! The only reason I’m not going to kill you is because I need to be there for her! So count yourself lucky!”

Jumin

  • Jumin is furious
  • Where were her guards?!?!
  • How did this happen?!?!
  • The moment he saw her lying in the hospital bed, barely recognizable, he was furious
  • A few people were fired
  • Her finger was even too swollen to even wear her wedding ring
  • When MC is able to talk again, Jumin discovers that it was actually stolen by the man when she was attacked
  • Jumin has the man tracked down, arrested, gets MC’s ring back, and then goes to see the man in question
  • He informs the man he has fucked with the wrong person
  • You do not hospitalize the love of the CEO of C&R’s life without major consequences
  • A few well placed bribes land the man in the worst prison in the country and the man lives out the rest of his days in absolute misery
  • Jumin tells MC nothing more than, “you never have to worry about him hurting you ever again.”

Saeyoung

  • He brings his laptop with him when he goes to be by MC’s hospital bed
  • The moment Saeyoung hears the name of the guy who hurt her, he begins hacking
  • He ruins the guy quickly, hacking his facebook and phone, posting a picture from the phone of MC horribly beaten
  • “Look what I did over the weekend! :D” the post says
  • He hacks the guys email and sends out nasty letters to his boss, sends dick pics to various female coworkers, etc
  • He ruins the guys financials by buying a shit ton of sardines (his most hated food) and sending it to his house
  • Which he is later kicked out of, when his landlord gets an anonymous email with video of the guy hitting on the landlords teenage daughter
  • 707 ruins the guy in every way possible
  • Then he contacts the guy
  • “Congratulations! You have achieved ‘Hacker God’s Fury!’ Now, you can feel free to try to rebuild your life, but know, I’ll be watching. And if you ever hurt MC or anyone else like that again, you won’t have any possibility of rebuilding. I can and will turn you into a foreign spy committing high treason against the government and have you thrown into the type of camp you only see up North, if you catch my drift! ;)”

V

  • They were at an outdoor market together, browsing, enjoying each other’s company, etc
  • MC let go of his arm for a minute to go grab something from another stall, and suddenly she was gone
  • In the hustle and bustle of the market, he didn’t notice she had disappeared for a little while, but when he did, he started calling out to her
  • Mind you, he couldn’t see, but he still searched for her
  • When he hears the sirens, his heart drops
  • He rushes towards them, confirms it’s MC because she says his name when she hears his voice, and they go to the hospital
  • He’s in tears, blaming himself for this happening to her
  • She’s under a sedative because of the pain, so she can’t speak very well, but she manages to communicate to him not to blame himself
  • V doesn’t know the extent of the damage until a doctor tells him there was irreparable damage to both her eyes and no matter what they do, she will never see again
  • V decides to get the surgery because he knows his condition is treatable and hers isn’t, and when he asks her if it’s okay, to make she won’t resent him, she tells him, “Of course not.”
  • He’s sad he’ll never be able to see her eyes outside of pictures, but once they’ve both recovered, he’s able to take her home
  • He goes back to taking photographs to help build up some good money for the two of them so that they’ll always be financially secure
  • V’s first collection after she’s gone blind actually has all his photos 3D printed, so she can feel the shape of the images
  • The guy is arrested a few weeks after V takes her home
  • When he is, MC willingly testifies against the man, and V is able to do everything in his power to protect her

Saeran

  • Saeran deletes everything about this guy
  • He becomes a ghost
  • He has no credit, no identity, no drivers license
  • Saeran then tracks him down, which isn’t very hard
  • Saeran kidnaps the guy, holds him captive, and tortures him
  • When the guy is on the verge of being broken, Saeran stops and releases him alone in the mountains
  • He then washes his hands of the guy altogether
  • Nobody hurts his MC and gets away with it

Vanderwood

  • Hahaha
  • They wouldn’t find the body
2

The Year of Cardi B - She went from stripping to becoming the breakout star of 2017. So what’s she worried about?

Cardi B is butt-naked in the doorway of her hotel bathroom, yelling about her vagina. On a mid-October evening, she’s readying herself for a college show in Baltimore, and the toiletries provided by the hotel aren’t to her liking. “That soap gave me the yeast infection of 2017!” she hollers in her thick Bronx accent. “My pussy was burnin’ like a Mexican taco!”

It takes all of 10 seconds in Cardi B’s presence to be reminded of the sheer force and hilarity of her personality. Simply being Cardi B, at maximum volume, made her a star – first on Instagram, then on the VH1 reality show Love & Hip-Hop: New York – before she’d recorded any music at all, let alone knocked Taylor Swift from the top of the pop charts with the sly swagger of her single “Bodak Yellow.” She is the people’s diva – or “the strip-club Mariah Carey,” as she once rapped – unfiltered in a way the world often doesn’t allow female stars to be. In a culture reshaped by streaming and social media, where the kids, without much corporate nudging, get to decide who the stars are, Cardi B is what you get.

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Drarry Smut

Warnings/Information: Harry Potter, this takes place in Deathly Hallows (Part 2), is when Harry, Hermione, and Ron go in to look for Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem in the Room of Requirement and Draco and Crabbe and the other guy come in, modified canon stuff, mildly nonconsensual but also consensual idk?, Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter, gay shit, gay smut, two men doing sexual things, gay gay gay gay gay, kinda angsty/saddish at the end, and warning: IT’S LIKE, LONG, SO YEAH XD, also the indentation is fucked up because I copied and pasted it from Google Docs because I don’t trust Quotev not to delete my shit again.

FINAL WARNING: THIS IS SMUTTTTTTTTTT OKAYYYYYYY? OKAAAAAAAY.
Also I don’t own Harry Potter. Obviously. Or Drarry would be canon af.


An Even Exchange


Harry’s face lit up with a victorious smile as he fiddled with the diadem, caressing the metal and feeling his heart leap. He was now so close to being one step closer to killing Voldemort

Suddenly, he felt as though he, Ron, and Hermione weren’t alone anymore… He turned around, letting the diadem fall back into the box, and met Malfoy’s gaze.

“Well, well,” murmured the blonde. “What brings you here, Potter?”

Harry straightened himself up. “I could ask you the same,” he responded.

“You have something of mine,” Draco stated “I’d like it back”

“What’s wrong with the one you have?” Harry retorted passively, gesturing towards the wand Malfoy held in his hand, pointed at him.

“It’s my mother’s. Powerful… but it’s… not the same. Doesn’t quite… understand me. Know what I mean?” Draco’s words hit Harry deeper than Harry meant to let them go. His own wand had been splintered to pieces earlier in the year when Voldemort’s snake, Nagini, had attacked Hermione and him in Godric’s Hallow.

“Well too bad, Malfoy. I won it from you, so it’s only fair that I keep it,” Harry responded finally.

Malfoy’s face twisted into a frown, but then softened slightly, a smirk making his lips turn upward. “Fine then, Potter. I’ll just have to take something else.”

Harry laughed, amused. “What else could you possibly take, Malfoy?” The words slipped from his lips incredulously.

Malfoy didn’t respond. “Crabbe, Blaise! Get Granger and Weasley out of here.”

Almost instantly the four afore-mentioned people were fighting, shooting hexes and curses at each other. In the midst of all the chaos, Harry was caught by surprise as Draco quickly hexed him, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him away from his friends.

The moment Harry recovered from being stupefied he began struggling against Draco. “G-Get off me!” he growled.

“Accio wand,” Malfoy muttered.

Harry’s wand flew out of his pocket, into Malfoy’s awaiting hand, which tucked it into his pocket. Before he could protest, however, Malfoy was pushing him backwards. Harry landed on something soft: a bed. Wait. A bed? That surely hadn’t been there before. Why would a bed be in the Room of Requirement? There was no need for a bed…

And that’s when he looked up to see the smirk on Malfoy’s face. “I’ll just have to take you, Potter.”

Harry’s eyes widened at the dangerous implication the Slytherin’s words held.

“You don’t mean… Malfoy…!” Harry sputtered out the other’s name, his cheeks flushing rather quickly.

“Ah, shut it Potter, it’s not like you’ve never imagined this.”

Harry’s mouth opened, then shut. It wasn’t like he could deny it. He mustn’t tell lies, and to say that he’d never wanked off to Draco’s incredibly handsome face would be a complete and utter lie.

Malfoy was removing his shirt now, undoing his green tie and tossing it aside carelessly when it was loose. His other free hand held Potter’s wrists above his head. He was straddling Harry, his hips settled on top of the Gryffindor’s crotch and his legs keeping strong control over Harry’s ankles, making sure he wouldn’t kick.

All the while, Harry stared at Malfoy, unable to think straight. Draco’s elegant fingers popped open the buttons of his own shirt.

“Fulgari,” Draco murmured, pointing his wand at Harry’s wrists. Harry’s wrists were instantly bound in shining ropes, and now Malfoy was free to shrug off his shirt, throwing it to the right.

Harry jerked, his mind being yanked back to reality rather quickly as he heard some curses being shouted in the distance, Ron and Hermione’s voices standing out.

Before Harry could even turn to Draco to say something along the lines of ‘let me go!’, Draco had muttered a silencing charm, and all was quiet once more. Harry’s mouth opened, but then snapped shut as Draco’s nimble fingers skittered down Harry’s shirt, undoing buttons along the way.

“Malfoy, stop,” Harry hissed through his teeth as the large field of skin littered with bits of sparse, dark hair was exposed.

“Yeah? Why?” came the response. Draco’s fingers were twisting the hair gently

“B-Because,” was the half-assed answer.

Malfoy laughed, amused. “Yeah, right, Potter. Maybe if you had a good reason I’d actually give it a thought, eh?”

His fingers found Harry’s nipples, and now they were tormenting them, sending little sparks of something throughout Harry’s body. Harry bit his lip rather harshly.

“Scared, Potter? Scared of me defiling you?” He paused, his eyebrow quirking upwards. “Or perhaps, you’re scared of the noises you’ll make while I’m fucking you?”

It was a rhetorical question; Malfoy wasn’t seeking any answers. His words, however, had caused Harry to flush a deep red and bite his lip even harder as Draco dipped down to suck on one of Harry’s sensitive buds.

Harry’s head thudded back against the pillow. He was breathing too heavily, getting too caught up in the moment. Don’t get hard, don’t get hard, don’t get hard, he repeated to himself in his mind, reciting the mantra but in vain. Don’t get hard, fuck, you’re getting hard, it’s failing, maybe he won’t notice…

Alas, but with Malfoy’s position on Harry, his hips perfectly aligned with the other’s hips, he could feel the way that Harry’s pants were tighter than they used to be, could feel the growing bulge. Harry glanced down at Malfoy, his breath hitching when he realized that the blond was smirking back up at him.

He didn’t even notice the way that Draco subtly scooted backwards, the way that his hand was snaking downwards at a rather alarming pace, until he felt the button on his pants be popped open.

“Merlin,” Harry whispered, the words almost coming out as a whine.

Next thing he knew, the zipper was coming down as well, and then in a blur his pants were gone. His maroon boxers were strained, and Harry panted slowly as he stared steadily up and nowhere else.

It was quiet for a moment, and so Harry gasped as his boxers were brought down sharply and quickly without any fair warning. He closed his eyes, his face scarlet, as waves of humiliation thrummed through him. He refused to look Malfoy in the eye while he was in such a vulnerable state.

“Want me to stop now, Potter? Because your prick says otherwise,” Malfoy’s voice rang out.

Harry trembled as Malfoy’s slightly cold, smooth hand wrapped around him, jerking him off at an agonistically slow pace. The brunette wanted to say that he wanted Draco to stop, he really did, except if he did, it would be a lie and both of them knew it.

The slow pace started gaining speed, getting a bit quicker, and Harry’s jerking breathing morphed into a series of breathy pants and gasps. “M-Merlin,” Harry whispered again, his hips moving against his will.

Then it all stopped, and Harry let out a whimper of disappointment without even realizing it.

“Look at me, Harry,” Draco demanded. Harry grit his teeth, his arousal spiking at the use of his first name. “Look at me,” he repeated when Harry shook his head adamantly.

“Harry, if you don’t look at me I’m not going to let you come,” Draco warned.

“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned quietly, slowly letting his eyes flutter open, meeting Malfoy’s grayish blue gaze with his own, greenish blue eyes.

“That’s a good lad,” Draco praised, his lips turning upwards in a smile.

Before Harry could come up with a retort, Draco’s lips were on his own. Harry’s mouth fell open in shock and Draco moaned softly as he shoved his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Harry was trying not to think about how good Malfoy’s lips felt against his own, of how soft his skin was and how wet his tongue was as it explored Harry’s awaiting cavern. It proved to be an impossible task.

He started gently and instinctively kissing back, a hint of shyness evident in the way he did so. His lips parted again as Malfoy’s hands snaked downwards again, once again taking hold of his erect cock and stroking it at a rhythmic, even pace.

Harry started succumbing to the pleasure, his hips thrusting upwards at an erratic pace with no rhythm at all, and he whined childishly as the touch slowed. He stopped though, when he saw that Malfoy’s hands had instead gone to his own pants, undoing the button and sighing in relief as the tension was lessened slightly. For the first time, Harry realized how tight Malfoy’s pants had been, and as Draco ditched the pants, his eyes traveled down the Slytherin’s body without being able to help it.

Potter’s trance was broken with Malfoy’s voice, causing him to start to attention. “Enjoying the view from down there, Potter?” he drawled, a hand slipping beneath the hem of his boxers.

He slid the boxers down confidently (or at least, if he had any worries he hid them quite well) and Harry knew that Malfoy was smirking down at him, reveling in the look on Harry’s face, but he didn’t care. All he knew was that Malfoy was hot. His cock wasn’t any less beautiful than the rest of his body, and it matched the rest of him beautifully.

Malfoy was a masterpiece.

All these romantic thoughts were thrown from his mind as he realized Malfoy had ducked down to start kissing at his chest again. He lingered a little at Harry’s nipples before licking and sucking and nipping his way up to the brunette’s neck and then stopped to loiter there. Harry let out a quiet sort of gasp which was magnified to a moan as Draco straddled Harry once more, his hips matching up with Harry’s and causing their cocks to slide against each other in the most pleasurable way.

Malfoy was unabashedly moaning, vibrations traveling up his neck. He bit down slightly, making Harry’s back arch in a painful pleasure, before Malfoy’s lips made their way up Harry’s jaw and finally landing at their destination on the other’s lips.

The feeling of Draco thrusting and rubbing against him while he pleasurably abused his lips with his own was incredible. Harry’s mind wasn’t sure where to go and what to think; all he knew was that this felt amazing.

He was so caught up in the pleasure that he didn’t even see the way one of Malfoy’s hands was caressing his thigh, dangerously traveling between his legs slowly. The feeling of a nimble finger prodding at his entrance was enough to jerk him back to reality, and Harry jolted backwards nervously. He glanced up at Malfoy, who had broken the kiss, and found himself oddly comforted by the gentle smile that the blonde was giving him.

“Don’t worry about it Potter, I’ll make you feel good…” the Slytherin murmured in a low, lusty tone.

This time, as Draco pushed a finger into him, Harry didn’t stop him. Instead, he took a deep breath and lay back, relaxing. The Gryffindor wasn’t exactly a complete stranger to this feeling. He had gotten a little curious a couple times, and it had just… happened, he supposed, while he was having a little time to himself. But someone else doing it? And Malfoy, for that matter? This felt completely different, and a lot more pleasurable…

Malfoy had added another finger, now scissoring them and curling them and stretching him in the most divine way, searching… searching for the spot that would make Potter see stars…

Harry’s back arched suddenly, and a rush of air escaped his lips, forming the word ‘Malfoy’ as he did so. Harry had tried, but never quite found, this place within him. And now that Draco had found it, he wasn’t stopping at relentlessly pressing up against it with, now, three fingers.

The brunette’s hips were thrusting forward, essentially doing the task of fucking himself upon Malfoy’s fingers. His head lay back against the pillow, his eyes closed in bliss.

But then his eyes flew open as the fingers left him. Malfoy wasn’t replacing them with something better, bigger, and Harry whined in protest.

“Merlin, please, M-Malfoy,” he panted, his hips left thrusting against air.

“Please what?” Draco responded oh-so innocently, a smirk playing at his dainty lips.

“Y-You know what,” Harry responded with a huff.

“Ah, but I can assure you that I don’t know what,” came the teasing reply.

“Fuckin’ hell,” the Gryffindor hissed.

“My, such language from the chosen one,” Malfoy smiled, running his fingers across Harry’s lips. “Beg for it, Potter.”

Harry’s lips set in a firm line, and he shook his head. His pride was so far gone at this point, but he still had a shred of self-respect and he did not want to beg for Malfoy’s cock. His beautiful, pale, hard, delicious…

“I want you,” he murmured weakly.

“Where?”

“In…. in me…”

“What in you?”

“Your… m-merlin, Draco, you know what I want!” Harry burst out, exasperated and embarrassed.

“Yes, but I’m not going to give it to you until you assure me that you want it,” Malfoy responded slyly.

“You can’t m-make me.”

The Slytherin hummed in response, his head lowering. Harry’s breath hitched: Draco’s lithe tongue had darted out and lapped up the pre-cum beading at the tip of Harry’s cock and was now forming little circles around the tip.

Sparks like electricity were rushing down to his groin, and his hips jerked upwards. Malfoy relaxed his throat, going down deeper on Harry, who let out a high-pitched whimper.

Harry was utterly defeated. Having Malfoy sucking him like so was heavenly, but Draco knew what Harry really wanted… to come with Malfoy inside him, filling him up and fucking him into the bed.

“Dracoooo,” he moaned.

“Hm?” came the response, sending vibrations through Harry’s cock and putting him near the edge.

“F-Fuck me! Please, merlin, fuck me… please, I want to c-come with you in me, please,” the brunette gasped, finally breaking.

Promptly Malfoy’s mouth was removed from Harry’s cock and the blonde was straddling Harry, spreading his legs and using one hand to guide his cock towards Harry’s entrance. The head of Draco nudged at the hole, causing Harry to let out a string of curses and whimper to Malfoy to “Just do it already”, to which Malfoy abided by quickly.

As the head breached Harry’s entrance, Harry struggled to keep his hips under control, knowing if he thrust himself towards Draco it’d be too fast and too big. The Gryffindor did, however, let out a strangled moan. He looked upwards, seeing Malfoy’s head tipped back in pleasure, his bleached hair falling in just the right positions, his eyes closed and his lip caught between his teeth as beads of sweat trickled down his body. Malfoy was the perfect picture of what pleasure looked like, and Harry’s eyes couldn’t help but to travel down his body, his mouth agape in awe of Draco’s beauty.

He let his hips move forward slowly, jolts of pleasure going straight for his cock as Malfoy filled him. He felt himself gradually opening up to welcome Draco’s hardness willingly. The pain was little, the pleasure vast, and he scooted forward more to fill himself up more, needing more of Malfoy in him. Then he slid back, letting instinct take over, and began fucking himself on Draco slowly at first, then faster. Malfoy let him do the work at first, partially unable to do anything for a moment as he was full of shock and intense pleasure, and then he started thrusting his hips into Harry. Both of them let out long-awaited groans and moans, their voices mingling into one. Harry’s fingers at first clenched the sheets, but then found comfort in holding onto Malfoy’s arms, which were planted on either side of Harry.

The Gryffindor hissed in unadulterated pleasure as the thrusts sped up steadily. Draco jerked, a strangled moan escaping his lips. Malfoy stopped abruptly, panting heavily and clearly trying to regain control of himself.

“Fuck, Harry, don’t d-do that…” he stuttered out.

Potter’s hips gently continued thrusting up against Draco, who whimpered in pleasure and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Do what…?” the brunette responded, mildly confused but smirking.

“The.. hissing…”

Oh. So Draco was affected by hissing, was he?

“So oh-so perfect Draco Malfoy has a weakness, hm?” Harry let the Parseltongue slither from his lips easily, and Draco positively mewled… Harry chuckled. “You don’t even know what I’m saying yet you’re still so affected… I could be reciting potions ingredients for all you know, yet you’d still be getting off…”

“H-Harry…! Stop, please… fuck, I’ll come…” Malfoy’s hips jerked and his body trembled, tensing.

Harry obliged, chuckling lowly. Malfoy’s eyes opened, a mild glare but much lust hidden within them. “How long has that been a thing?” he prompted, subtly drawing out his S’s.

“Since… s-second year…” came the reply.

Harry’s face turned a red comparable to the rubies within the hilt of Godric Gryffindor himself’s sword. “That long…?” he whispered, half to himself.

“F-Fuck off,” Malfoy growled.

Harry swiveled his hips, and the growl swiftly shifted into a whimper. Potter was in control, and both he and Draco were aware of this fact.

“Come on, don’t stop…” Harry hissed out, thrusting his hips so Malfoy would get the idea despite the fact that he didn’t verbally understand Harry’s words. “Fuck me!”

Oh, and Draco did. The thrusts sped up quickly and soon the air was filled with the moans and gasps of the two young men.

Harry’s head lay back, his calloused fingers grasping at Malfoy’s own delicate ones as he lay with his mouth open, eyes closed.

“H-Harry… Parseltongue…” Draco stuttered out in a whisper.

When Harry opened his eyes to gaze at Draco, his face was contorted with pleasure, his hair damp with sweat.

“Come for me, Malfoy…”

Malfoy whimpered and came, his hips jerking one last time as he panted heavily, his eyes closing.

When he’d come down from his high, he pulled out gently, before leaning down.

“You haven’t come,” he observed, watching as Harry touched himself, giving himself long strokes. “I’ll fix that, love…”

And Harry didn’t even have time to process the fact that Draco had just addressed him as ‘love’… ‘love’, for Merlin’s sake… because Draco was prying Harry’s hands from the unsatiated cock and replacing them with something better, more… His lips were opening…

Harry welcomed the familiar feeling of Draco sucking him, gasping but feeling terribly empty. Malfoy, thank Merlin, seemed to sense this by the way that Harry’s legs spread a bit, and started fingering him, massaging his prostate gently but just enough to make him see stars as he hit the edge.

“M-Malfoy…” Harry whispered as he came into the mouth that belonged to the name he’d just let loose from his own lips.

The blonde swallowed, licking his lips, before hastily casting the countercurse to undo the silvery ropes around Harry’s wrists, then laying down somewhat nervously beside the Gryffindor.

The two just lay there beside each other quietly, not exchanging any words.

For just having received the best sex of his life, Harry couldn’t help but feel a bit broken inside…

Malfoy and Harry were on opposite sides, you see… It was incredibly and painfully likely that this would only be a one time thing. Yet seeing as how this was the case, Harry didn’t get up and run off… this was why Harry was laying here, his hand now tracing Malfoy’s hand.

Just them.

Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy.

Misdialed Call (Part One)

Summary: After an overall bad day, you call your best friend to rant and to vent. But when you accidentally misdial, you end up talking to a complete stranger. What you don’t know is that this stranger may not be a stranger at all. He may even be the world’s first superhero. (Drabble Series)

Author’s Note: Hey guys. I’m back from my hiatus. I’ve miss you guys so much. I hope to continue writing for a while now that midterms are over and done with. I hope you guys enjoy this series and thank you for everything!
Also, special thanks to Combat Anon for the idea of this series!

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 934

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

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Comfort Inn Ending | 3

➭ “It was you who Jungkook gave his heart to- that is, until the day you broke it. And it is you now, hoping that some faultlines can be repaired, and that some broken hearts can be put back together again.”

pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: angst/smut
wordcount: 5.5k

part one | two | three | four | five | six | seven


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Have You Seen This Painting of A Hallway?

I got this package in the mail from my dad: brown paper wrapping, large but flat, with the word “FRAGILE” written on it in black ink. When I unwrapped it, it was this big, acrylic painting, framed in some sort of bronze-gilded plaster.

The painting itself was of this long hallway full of doors, kind of like you’d see in a fancy hotel. The walls had edging about halfway up, the upper part was painted sort of an off white while the lower half was a crimson red that blended into the carpeting. Between each door was an up-turned light, as well as on the far wall at the end, where the corridor seemed to connect to another hallway running perpendicular to it, disappearing around a corner.

It was really amazing detail, though I wouldn’t call it life-like by any means. Just the sheer amount of intricate pieces to each aspect of the scene showed that the artist really paid attention to every little thing, like somewhere in the world was this hallway, and you could stand in it and hold the painting up in front of you and if it weren’t for the border and the clearly stylized art, you wouldn’t be able to tell where the canvas ended and the real world began.

I called him up and thanked him immediately.

“But where’d you find this?”

“I got it at an auction.”

I kinda figured as much.

So I hung up the painting in my office, just behind my desk, which I realized later wasn’t the best place for it because in order to actually look at it, I had to swivel completely around, but there wasn’t anywhere better really, and once I’d gotten it hung up, I felt less willing to take it back down, so I just left it there. It kind of hung out over my shoulder and watched me work, and every now and then I’d turn around and stare at it and get entranced by it, feeling like I could get up and put my hands in the frame and climb into the painting as if the frame were a window.

Of course, I wouldn’t be writing this if something weird didn’t happen as a result of the painting.

We had a couple friends over, Marc and Sabina, and Marc and I went into my office when the women-folk started talking about knitting, which has become my wife’s new favorite hobby. I went and sat down at my laptop to find a video I had been telling Marc about, and Marc wandered over and started admiring the painting.

“Where’d you get that?”

“My dad bought it at an auction and gave it to me.”

“It’s creepy.”

“It’s not that creepy. It’s kind of… I don’t know.”

“Hypnotic?”

“Yeah.”

I turned around to look at it with him while the video loaded. He got up close and was running his finger over the canvas, feeling the raised acrylic, and I just let my gaze wander over all the details again.

“Huh, I didn’t notice that before.”

“What?”

“At the end of the hall, there’s some sort of light coming from around the corner, and it’s casting a shadow on the floor.”

I got up and looked closer, because I really hadn’t spent a lot of time studying the far end of the hallway. There was definitely some yellow and some darker colors making what looked like the shadow of a person coming from around the corner. I even reached out and touched it to make sure it wasn’t some trick of the light in the study making it just look like there was this shadow in the painting, but I felt the paint and sure enough it was actually there in the painting.

“See what I mean?” Marc said, “Creepy.”

I genuinely felt weirded out by it. It was one of those moments where you start thinking, Why didn’t I notice this earlier? Was it there to notice?

A couple days later, I was working on a project in my study, and it was like 9:30 at night, and I just couldn’t focus, so I spun around in my chair to look at the painting and I felt this sudden vertigo effect, like the ground wasn’t there and I had to grab my chair to keep from tumbling into emptiness.

You wouldn’t have noticed it if you hadn’t looked at the painting a hundred times like I had. The hallway was long, with exactly six doors. I remember, because I counted them the first day. three on the left, three on the right, each with a little shiny, metal doorknob.

Only now there were seven doors. Three on the left, four on the right. It didn’t make sense. Everything looked proportionally exactly the same, and the far end of the corridor was just as far away, and yet there was a fourth door in the right side of the hallway, with its little metal doorknob. I don’t even know which door was the fourth door, that’s how well it blended in, I just know that there were four doors where once there were three.

“What the hell is going on?”

I turned away in my chair and back to check several times and make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, but the number of doors remained constant.

I called my dad again and I asked him, “Is this a trick painting you sent me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it keeps changing. I can see it changing.”

“Not as far I know. It was just one in a bunch I picked up all at the same auction.”

After I got off the phone I took the painting down and checked the back for some some of mechanical or digital hocus pocus, but it was all soft canvas so I left it on the floor behind my office chair with the painting facing the wall because the thought of it was freaking me out.

The next day I pulled my wife into my office and held the painting up so she could see it because she hadn’t had a chance to before.

“How many doors are there?” I asked.

She looked it over for a moment. “Seven.”

“When I first got this, there were six.”

She just looked at me like I was being a goofball. “Okay, so which one wasn’t there before?”

“I have no idea.”

“You don’t know which door magically appeared?” and she laughed and gave me a kiss and went back into the other room.

It gets worse.

The next time I chatted with Marc, I told him about the extra door in the painting.

“Are you sure there weren’t seven doors to begin with?”

“Well, I would swear I counted six.”

“Well, if another one shows up, at least Melissa counted seven, and can confirm it then. You know what you should do? You should take a photo of the painting so you can prove it if anything else changes.”

What a great idea, so I got my phone and took a photo of the painting.

Two days went by. Nothing.

On the third day, I walked into my office and there was a man staring at me. Well, I mean… it wasn’t… I can’t say that it was a man or a woman. Hell, I can’t say that it was human. There was a shape at the end of the hallway in my painting. It was oddly lacking in the detail that the rest of the painting had, like someone had hurriedly painted it on. I even ran my hand over it to make sure it wasn’t fresh, that someone hadn’t actually come in and painted over my painting to drive me crazy.

It was really there.

And the look of it scared me more than anything else, changing painting included. I wish I could do it justice with words, but the best I can describe it is that it was human-ish, with legs and arms, but it seemed squat, or hunched, and lopsided, like someone had slapped a blurry Quasimodo onto an otherwise beautiful painting. You couldn’t see the details of its face, but you could see shading on it, defining really warped features. I was almost glad that there wasn’t more detail to it, except that it left just enough to the imagination to give one nightmares.

But I had proof! Here was proof that the painting was changing. So I brought up the file on my laptop to show my wife for comparison, only when I did, the figure was in the photo I took too!

At no point did I start questioning my sanity about all this. Something unnatural and terrifying was going on, so I took the painting out of the house and set it on the curb where we put our trash for pickup. I was so done with that painting.

Or so I thought.

The next evening, when I got home from work, it was gone from the curb. I figured someone had seen it and taken it home, and I waved my hands and said, “Good, now it’s someone else’s problem.” I went in, played with daughter, had dinner, put them to bed, and after watching a show with my wife, went into my office to check my email.

No, the painting wasn’t back on the wall. I made sure of that the moment I walked in the door.

But I got a message from Marc, asking if the painting had changed anymore, and I told him about the creepy new addition and also how I had gotten rid of the painting.

“Oh man, that sounds cool. I wish I’d gotten a chance to see it.”

“Well, I can send you the photo I took of it.”

“Cool.”

So I opened the image file.

The thing in the painting had raised its arms.

Before, you could only barely make out the arms hanging at its sides, but now both arms were raised up over its head, and its fingers were spread apart like it was waving hello at me. I think it was waving hello at me.

I zoomed in, as best as I could without pixelating the image, and the shaded contours of the face seemed stretched into a grin.

Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

I sent Marc the file, but the connection kept fucking up, so I put it in a folder on my dropbox account and gave him access to it.

“The file’s corrupted.” He texted me.

I tried to open it as well, but he was right. Every time I copied the image file, somehow it got corrupted.

“It must be the spooky magic.” Marc joked.

“This is no joke. I’m freaking out here.”

“Delete the file if it’s scaring you so bad.”

So I deleted the file.

But it gnawed at me, you know? The painting was still changing, in horrible, terrifying ways, seemingly acknowledging my observation of it, and now it was gone. But if it was gone, why should it matter? If something unholy happens, it’s the problem of whoever has the painting now, right? And they’ll see it changing too, won’t they?

“Oh shit.”

It was two days later, and I was organizing a folder of documents and had accidentally deleted a couple I hadn’t meant to. I went into the Windows recycling bin and –you guessed it– there was the image file along with the documents.

I had to look. I was trembling with dread at the thought of it, but when something so surreal happens to you, you have to witness it and see it through to the end.

I recovered the file and opened it.

The walls of the hallway seemed to be melting. The partition separating the red from the off-white was lower than it had been before, and drooped in places. The ridge on the lights looked like they were peeling off. The carpet seemed less crimson and more reddish brown.

And the figure had taken several steps down the corridor toward the viewer’s perspective. More details had become defined: hair hanging off its head, long and black like it had been painted with a fine-tipped brush, the eyes were little more than dull black points under the shading of the brow. The grin came with teeth, uneven and fat, like those of a child more than an adult. Its arms were extended out on either side of it, touching both walls. One foot was ahead of the other, as if I had caught it mid-step in a game of red light/green light.

I realized I was panting and shaking as I looked at it. It was really hard to breathe, an anxiety attack. The painting was going to make me pass out, just from looking at a digital photo of it.

Quickly, I closed the image to calm myself down, but that suddenly brought forth the thought, What if it progresses every time I look away? The only way to stop it is to keep looking! and I opened the file again.

No change. Oh– no, wait, that wasn’t a new change, I had noticed it before, but it hadn’t dawned on me. One of the doors was open. There was a dim blue light coming from the room inside, moonlight I thought. And just outside the threshold of the door, there was an object lying on the floor.

I zoomed in for better detail.

It was a little, yellow, stuffed lion with a scraggly, orange mane. A child’s toy. Of all the details, the melting hallway, the grinning fiend with arms wide open, the blue light from the open doorway, it was the innocent nature of that little toy lion that filled me with the most dread.

My wife came into the office.

“Come kiss Gabby goodnight.”

I went into her darkened room, where she was wrapped up in blankets in her bed, hugging a half dozen stuffed animals and looking cute as could be. My little darling. I love her so much.

I kissed my daughter goodnight. She kissed me back and hugged her little pillowpet with the built in night light. It glowed through a variety of colors.

“I love you, baby.” I told her.

“Can you get my Simba?”

I looked around. “Where’d you leave it?”

“Over there.” She pointed to the closet. The door was open, and her toy lay on the floor just inside.

Simba, her little, yellow, stuffed lion with the scraggly, orange mane.

Seeing it lying there, just past the threshold of the closet door, while the dim glow of my daughter’s night light faded from red to purple to blue, I felt my heart rise up in my chest. The closet was just a closet. I could see it was just a closet. There were clothes on hangers and bags with toys and blocks in them. They were right there. And yet, as I looked at the stuffed lion lying on the floor, waiting for me, I felt as if I could see carpeting on the floor inside the closet, even though there was none. Carpeting, not in my vision, but in my imagination. And maybe if I went in and shut the door, I’d find that the walls beyond those clothes had a wooden partition, red below, off-white above.

And maybe there was something hunched and terrible shambling its way toward us even as I stood there staring at that toy.

I walked, briskly, trying not to look half as frightened as I was, snatched up Simba and shut the closet door. My breathing was heavy, like I’d just run a mile, and I struggled to avoid gasping for breath as I tried to calm myself down.

“Hey, did that poster fall down?” I asked nobody in particular, then pretended I was trying to adjust a cat poster that had been on the floor by her dresser for months, and shoved the heavy dresser over so that it partially blocked the closet door.

“Here’s Simba, sweety.” I handed the lion to Gabby, gave her a quick hug and kiss, and wished her goodnight before rushing back to my office.

The painting had changed, as I knew it would. The open door was closed, the toy gone from the floor, the hallway was dimly lit with yellow light from the melting lights again. But the thing, that not-quite-human fiend, was standing right outside the now shut door, its body turned to face it with both hands pressed up against the door itself like it was running its hands down it, caressing it, and its head turned toward me, still grinning that awful, frightening grin full of gnashed, crooked teeth.

Oh God how close had it been? No, it’s just a closet! The hallway is not there. It’s not real. None of this is real.

I’ve put up signs around the neighborhood, knocked on doors, asked everyone I know and many I don’t if they know who took the painting. I need to find it and get it back. I want to tear it, shred it in my hands, throw it in a fire and watch it burn to ashes. Jesus God in Heaven, I hope it didn’t end up in some landfill.

I’ve learned the awful truth… All Doors Lead To The Hallway

Kind and Goofy

I thank (and blame) @pixletta for this. This is based on a short story they gave me and I just- 

ENJOY

Au where your world is black and white until you kiss your soulmate


Jeremy had always thought of his life as simple. For years he only had to focus on three things: his music loving best friend, his obnoxious teenage bully and the love of his life - the main ingredients for a teenage boy. He had grown used to the black and white surroundings he had grown up in. However this all changed when he got the Squip. 

 The little computer in his head was adamant on him becoming more than his nerdy persona. He insulted him, manipulated him into getting what he wanted and soon Jeremy found himself rising above his ranks. He was talking to the popular kids, he was wearing more fashionable clothing and his once teenage bully was not practically his best friend. All he wanted now was her - his soulmate.

But apparently, that was too much to ask. 

 "What do you mean it might not be Christine?“ Jeremy questioned his Squip out loud in his bedroom where no one else could hear. His dad had gone out to get groceries (thankfully with pants) so the house was his for the time being. 

 "I’m saying,” the CPU stated, taking his physical form over to the end of the bed, “that soulmates are not the result of science, therefore I am unable to calculate who the particular human will be, given that there are roughly 7,500,000,000 people roaming the Earth at this given moment. It is very unlikely that your soulmate is Christine." 

 "But it has to be!” Jeremy interjected. “Soulmates have a bond, and I can feel that bond between us." 

 "You don’t even know her Jeremy.”

 "I don’t need to! When I close my eyes, I can picture us together, and we’re happy. Whenever I see her, I just want to kiss her and tell her how much I love her. I want her to tell me how much she needs me… I want to know that I’m her favourite person.“ Jeremy was soon lost in his own daydream and failed to notice that the Squip had suddenly taken interest. 

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It’s Only Logical - Chapter One

Pairings: Logicality/Prinxiety

Warnings: Swearing, implied sexuality

Patton didn’t exactly know what he expected when he walked into the florist shop, but this definitely wasn’t it. The man who was presently looking at him with an impassive expression was…hot. Like, really hot. He was tall and slim, with hazel eyes peering curiously at him from behind black glasses and hair that had that effortlessly mussed look that either took five minutes or an hour. Well, if he didn’t get the job, he was definitely getting his number. Patton blinked twice before mentally slapping himself. He was here for a job, not a date!

“Yes, I am hiring. I need someone to assist with customer service, handle the cash register and take phone orders. If the correct candidate proved capable, I might consider allowing them to assist me with arrangements, propagation and landscape design. I presently have a six-man crew to assist with the landscaping arm of my business, but I am handling the shop and greenhouse alone. Do you have any experience?”

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