i just needed to do something or else i would have cried all day

the princess stayed in the tower and read books about better girls, where their hands learned how to hold swords, where they rode in on horses. i gave her books as often as i could. she devoured them.

her princes saw her and pretended to be scared off by dragons. got too lost in the thicket. didn’t want to handle it.

“tell me what it’s like, out there,” she whispers to me for the millionth time. i take her from The Throne into her bed, tucking her in and making sure her feet are covered. 

“boring without you” i say as always, “but i did bring back a great story.”

i tell her about how the stars change beyond the equator. how there are places it looks like there are twin suns. how the desert crawls into you but so does snow. i talk about the taste of fruit and promise to bring her back some. she falls asleep while i murmur about rivers, and then in the morning i bring her from bed to Throne, even though she can do it on her own. sometimes she likes help, is all, and i’m happy to give it. 

she doesn’t want help getting dressed. the men come for me, blindfold masters i have almost befriended. the path we take away from her is always different, carefully manufactured so i don’t know exactly where she’s located. after all, a lady might get ideas about things.

they let me go in the queen’s room. i report findings, ask for fruit in the next week’s supplies, am told not to spoil the princess, that she must be kind and waifish and wanting when the prince comes. i spend an hour suggesting that fruit might turn the blood sweeter and am allowed six oranges.

in the next week, she marvels over them. turns them in her calloused hands. smells them. holds them until she can’t control her curiosity, devours them. i bring her books about rivers. i bring her books about deserts. 

“when is our birthday?” she asks me tonight. i’m knitting her a scarf for it.

“soon,” i tell her, “i’ll come by.”

she rolls onto one side, looks up at me in the dimming light. “I’m glad they chose you to be mine,” she says, and i drop a stitch. my heart sings against the inside of my wrists. i blow out a candle so she can’t see the blush and i can’t see her lips. i know what she means, i say. i know what she means.

it’s twenty-three for both of us. i bring her a cake we both eat, her on her throne and me on the floor. i am in the middle of laughing when she falls silent in the still night. “nobody else ever comes for me,” she whispers. i say nothing.

we have more cake, we go to sleep. i don’t know if she knows i’m awake, but i hear her crying.

the men come, the men take me. the one that smells like cedar always laughs at my jokes. the queen half-hates me because i remind her of “that nasty thing” they forced on their daughter. 

“the left wheel needs oil,” i mention, “she’s having trouble turning again.”

the queen’s nose goes up. she never reacts when i mention her daughter’s wheelchair by name - doesn’t find it funny we call it a throne, thinks it’s well enough to leave alone.

“well, she’ll have a prince in this next month coming for her,” says the queen, “i’ve arranged it all,” says the queen, “he’s … had the situation explained to him first this time. i thought it would be best,” says the queen. “we’re paying him…. quite a lot for his effort,” says the queen.

situation. she means that her daughter can’t walk very far. she means the situation of towers. i excuse myself. i find my girl books about turning down marriage. i’m not sure why. it’s all she’s ever wanted.

they blindfold me and take me. cedar laughs at my jokes. the sawdust one is here this time, even he chuckles at a few. we ride horses through places i’ll never see clearly. 

“so according to the queen this is the last time i’m needed, huh?” i ask them as they walk me blindly up too many stairs for my girl to make it down, “i’m sorry i never made your acquaintance.”

cedar laughs. he takes off my blindfold and for a second, lets me see his face. “it’s been an honor,” he says, shaking my hand, “you’ve been a perfect lady.”

i spend the day with my princess pretending i am not peeling apart from my bones. i just want her to be happy. to get to come home. 

it’s late. “do you think in a past life i was a mermaid?” she asks.

“almost definitely,” i tell her. 

it’s quiet for a while after. “what if,” she whispers, “i don’t want to leave?”

i sit up and look at her from across the room. 

“it’s just,” she says, “i have you here and all the books i need and nobody makes me walk too long and i don’t feel like… like i’m wrong here.”

i want to tell her she’s never been wrong. that she’s always fit into my heart like a puzzle piece. that, more importantly, the leadership i see in her glows like a fire - that, no matter her body, she’s always been kind and gentle and smart and sweet. a princess that could bring a nation to her feet and do so lovingly.

“it will be okay,” i say, “there’s more fruit to discover.”

she doesn’t say anything. i think i’ve ruined something by accident, but i don’t know what. i don’t really sleep. i don’t say anything when the men come take me.

the world outside without her is boring. no mermaids. i put my hand in a river once a day, just thinking about her. 

two weeks later i am awoken by my name, and a voice i recognize perfectly. cedar stands above me in the darkness. “i know two things in this world,” he says to me, “and one of them is about love.”

this time we make the trip without blindfolds. i see the squalor they keep her in. i see the waste surrounding her castle, the terrible place she’s in. rage fuels my footsteps even when they start flagging. 

the prince is already there. he has dropped her twice, cedar tells me. i am already running up the stairs even though i can barely breathe. i hear her crying through the door and i don’t need to get ready - the fire that starts in me burns so brightly.

i roar inside. turn dragon and beat back prince with girl made rage. the bruises on her body turn me into giant snake. i eat the man alive, or at least i chase him from the place, never to be seen again. later i will hear a rumor about a demon that stole the princess from him.

she cries into my arms. i take her down every single stair. i hear her murmur her thanks into my hair and then i kiss her, because i can’t handle it, because i have places to show her and she has my heart to lead.

my house isn’t much but it’s near a river. she likes putting her hands into it. i take her places when she is able, and otherwise i bring the places back. we read books together. cedar no longer works for the queen, but he’d rather live with the man of sawdust making tiny wooden figurines.

i lie in bed next to her, stroking her soft hair. “do you think i was a centaur in a past life?” she asks.

“definitely,” i tell her, and kiss her, gently. she holds my face and pulls herself closer to me.

“will i be a good queen? i mean, in this life?”

“i’m certain of it,” i reply. i can hear the truth ring in it. the bone-deep certainty.

she’s quiet for a moment. “you saved me,” she whispers, “and usually we’d end up married. but…”

i don’t know how to answer that. i feel ice down my spine suddenly.

“i’m not demanding, is all,” her voice shakes, “i’m asking this time. for you to choose me. for me to be yours, i mean. and for you to be mine. permanently.”

the next birthday we celebrate, we are both queens.

I had a friend who lived in the air vents.

posted by reddit user mjpack

When you’re a little kid, you do some strange stuff to get attention. Especially when you’re an only child and then poof, you’re not, you’re getting the “little brother or sister” pep talk from Mom and Dad and everything changes. You’re used to being the center of their world, being told you’re the most special little girl, but as Mom’s belly gets bigger and bigger and Dad’s patience with you gets smaller and smaller you realize it’s not going to go back the way it was. Not ever.

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((thank you to guest writer @actualbird !!!))

See the thing about Evangeline is that it’s pretty much as old as Jeremy and Michael’s entire friendship. Probably older, actually. Evangeline, of course, being the minifridge in their dorm that houses the Jeremy’s fantastic stock of Mountain Dew Red.

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August 24, 2017

To the boy with the green eyes,

Remember the last time we saw each other? 
In your little blue car….
We poured our hearts out to one another. 
We cried on each other’s shoulders.
I confessed my love to you. 
You confessed your love to me. 
But you didn’t confess that this night was going to be your last.  

You stopped by to pick up your (very) late Christmas present. 
You knew how bad I had been, and asked what was wrong. 
We walked to your little blue car, put the windows down on that cold chilly moonlit night, and talked. 
I told you everything that was happening to me: 
My ex-boyfriend and his new guy. 
A friend that I thought I could trust. 
And a lover that broke my heart. 
I also told you I was in a very dark place. 
Do you remember what I said to you?
I’m too ashamed to confess what I did to myself. 
Please don’t make me say it. 
I don’t want to see you cry again. 
Your beautiful emerald looking eyes don’t deserve to have tears in them. 
They need to keep sparkling and smiling. 

After we cried together, I confessed my love to you. 
I didn’t expect you to say anything. 
I didn’t expect you to feel the same way. 
I just wanted you to listen. 
I remember looking into those dazzling green eyes, holding your hand, and telling you: 
“I know this sounds cheesy. And I know that it may not seem true. But this is the truth. I promise. I love you. I love you so much. And I want to let you know that I will always love you. No matter what. I don’t care if you’re with someone new. I don’t care if I’m with someone new. I don’t even care if I haven’t talked to you in months, or even years. I will always love you.”
You didn’t say anything. 
You just nodded as tears fell down your cheek from your watery green eyes. 

Then, I asked you what you wanted from me. 
You said:
“I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I never know what the right choice is. I never know what the right thing to do is. I always hurt you. I don’t want to keep hurting you. We had a lot of fun. And that’s all I wanted at first. And that’s what happened. I liked you. I really did. A lot. Then things changed. I wanted to hang out with you every day and be with you every day. And we did that. I wanted to be closer to you. And we did that too. Then stuff happened, and I got scared. I don’t know. I was scared to be happy. I didn’t want to be in a relationship. I wasn’t prepared at all for how I felt about you. I didn’t know how to take it to the next level. I didn’t know how to be your boyfriend.” 

These words still bring tears to my eyes.  
It’s as if we are star-crossed lovers; forever living different paths in our lives that don’t have any connection in the end, denying us of any chance of living a life together. 
But how can that be when we are existing at the same time?
You’re alive. 
I’m alive. 
And I have never felt more alive with anyone else than when I’m with you. 
Just the way you look at me with those alluring eyes is what convinces me that you are in love with me too. 
So why aren’t we together? 
Why are you with someone else? 
Why are you with her?
Is it because she can give you a family?
Is it because you want to believe she’s the one for you?
Not just you though, for your whole family. 
She’s someone they will accept. 
Nobody would accept me into your family. 
I think we both know that for sure. 

Two hundred and twenty-one days have passed since that night happened. 
I’ve gone through many stages of:
Hating you. 
Worrying about you. 
Wondering if you’re dead.
Wondering if you’re alive. 
Pretending you’re dead. 
Wishing for your presence. 
All while still loving you. 
It’s torture. 

I don’t know if I should give up. 
Or if I should keep waiting for you. 
Because a part of me feels that I will never find anybody like you. 

Nobody’s going to look at me the way you did. 
Nobody’s going to touch me the way you did. 
Nobody’s going to care about me the way you did. 
And nobody’s going to understand me the way you do.

Every time I talk to someone new, I compare them to you. 
I know that’s wrong, but it’s true and I can’t help it. 
That’s when I start to believe that they’re not good enough for me. 
Because I need to find somebody that’s so good that they make me forget about you…
I know that’s not fair and I think that’s what keeps me from letting people in. 
I put this steel cage around my heart when you left me, and you’re the only one with the key to open it. 
I just wish you would talk to me. 
I wish you would tell me to move on, but your silence speaks louder than words. 
It drives me crazy; leads me to believe that I did something wrong, but I didn’t. 
Maybe it’s your way of keeping me in the sidelines when things get bad with you and her. 
I don’t see how that’s fair, but I love you so much that I don’t care. 
I’ll take any excuse you give me to come back, so long as I get to see your face again. 

I’m sorry. 
I’m sorry for getting close to you. 
I’m sorry for burdening you with my problems. 
I’m sorry for loving you. 
I’m sorry for all of this. 
Maybe things would’ve been simpler if we just didn’t meet. 
But as people say, “Two souls don’t just meet by simple coincidence.”
I start to wonder why you came into my life. 
Or was it I that came into yours?
I wonder if you’ll ever come back to me, even as a friend. 
I miss you. 
I miss you so dearly. 
Please stay alive while I exist. 
Whether it’s a year or ten, I will wait for you. 
Because I love you, and I want to believe that we are meant to be together. 
I want to wake up every morning to those lovely green eyes of yours. 

I forgive you.
I forgive you for pretending that I don’t exist.
I forgive you for leaving me with no explanation.
I forgive you for choosing her over me.
I forgive you  for falling for me.
I get it now.
We are just simply not meant to be.
But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with that. 

You know me…
You know I always have so much to say to you.
You know I could write books about my love for you. 
But I have one more important thing to say….

Happy birthday. 

Love always and forever, 
The boy with the brown eyes 

Free The Animal

Word Count: 6k

Genre: Smut, Angst (will I ever stop being emo?)

Author’s Note: You ever forget that you’re a fanfic writer then you write a fic so bad you remember how much of a hack you are? Yeah welcome to my fic :’D

dom!jungkook- fuckboi!jungkook- fuckbuddy relationship- dirty talk- thigh riding mention because damn even I am not immune to his thighs- inspired by Sia’s song and part of the song drabble game. You can find links to the rest of them on my masterlist

Loving You To Death (Sequel)

There he was with his hands up some girl’s skirt, grinding on her like he was trying to fuck her through their clothes, the fucking pig. You huff and turn to your friend who gives you an exasperated look, “___, just go and grab him by the dick and tell him he can’t fucking do that.”

“He can do whatever the fuck he wants to do, even if that is a bleach blonde bitch with a tan that makes her look like an Oompa Loompa.” That was pretty low, you admit. It wasn’t the girl’s fault that Jungkook had chosen her for the night. But seriously, there was a limit to tanning, this was just harmful to the eyes.

“No, he can’t because you’re together.” Your friend, Hwasa, sounds pretty fed up with you.

“No, we’re not. We’re just fuck buddies and we agreed that we’re not exclusive right from the start.” Why wasn’t she understanding this? You’d explained it to her a thousand times.

“I don’t care what bullshit you told each other. All I care about is what I see, and that is two idiots constantly doing all they can to piss each other off because they can’t communicate like adults.”

“What are you even talking about? Jungkook is not trying to piss me off. He’s just being himself. Which is admittedly annoying in and of itself but you know…”

“Then why did he do nothing the past three days but play video games while you were off galavanting with Jin, only to start making out with some girl the minute you make an appearance?”

“He did?” You asked surprised, only to check yourself back and shrug it off. “I don’t know, he must have just not felt like it.”

“Oh my god, save me from these two idiots.” Hwasa cries then takes you by the shoulder and starts shaking you, “He’s fucking jealous because you took Jin to meet your family and not him so he’s trying to piss you off. Why? Because he likes you. And you’re pissed off. Why? Because you like him. Now can you get that through your thick skull or do I have to beat it into you?”

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Eight Months.

Even eight months after the break up, Harry still felt the overwhelming urge to check up on you and your life. He would check your social media accounts a few times a week, more so before going to bed when thoughts of you plagued his mind. It felt naughty, wrong in a way; after all, it was him who ended your two year relationship.

*

“It’s never going to change, Harry! Things will always be the same! You ‘forgot’ my birthday and you spent the day with Kendall. You ‘forgot’ our date night and you spent the evening with Cara. I know it’s what the media want and expect from you, and I know management want you to do this, but I think you want to as well” you sigh, the words you had held for so long in your mouth now finally spilling out.

“You’re joking, right? That was a joke? You seriously think I want to spend any spare time I have with Kendall or Cara over you? Management need me to do this, if I don’t, I can kiss goodbye to my pay cheque! Half the things I do in this job is for you! How the fuck else would you get the latest handbags and purses and shoes?! Who else is going to pay for your education? Because I don’t see you or your family offering to cough up!” he spits almost bitterly.

You gasp in shock at his words. He knew your financial situation at home and that your parent’s worked so bloody hard to provide for you, but it just wasn’t enough. Your future career depended on your qualifications, and those qualifications could only be acquired in higher education in which Harry had offered to pay for, before he knew anything about the money side of things.

“Really, Harry? That’s how you feel? You think I’m with you for the money? I don’t give a damn about the shoes or bags and purses or latest fashion trends. I love you because you’re my boyfriend and I see myself living the rest of my life with you. I don’t love you because you’re Harry Styles from One Direction!” you spit back, your words truthful.

“I’ve heard that one before” he tells you, his eyes averting to the floor.

“So now you’ve got trust issues with me? Other girls may have treated you like that in the past, but I’m not like other girls, Harry. Two years we’ve been together and you really think that of me? When you guys broke up as a band, and you didn’t know what was going to happen to your music career, who was the one sitting up with you every night holding you whilst you cried? Other girls would have run a mile because of the uncertainty of your future. I love you even if you have nothing!” you shout at him.

Harry shrugs his shoulders and bites his lip. “Look, it’s not even just this causing arguments. They’ve been going on for a while and maybe having Kendall and Cara as friends is something you can’t handle. But I can’t live my life like this anymore. I’m done arguing with you all the time” he tells you softly.

“You’re making it sound like I don’t want you having friends, which isn’t true. I want you to put me first, like you did at the start of our relationship. You would have done anything back then for me, Harry. I hate arguing with you too. Maybe if we arrange some sort of schedule and arrange dates in advance to see each other?” you suggest.

Harry shakes his head. “I think it’s too little too late, (Y/N).”

You frown, your bottom lip beginning to quiver as you ask the dreaded question. “Are you breaking up with me.”

Harry’s eyes avert to the floor once more and the silence between you both speaks more volumes than words ever could.

*

Your Instagram account had been almost inactive for the first month after the break up, with only the occasional bog-standard photos of new make-up purchases and Starbucks coffee. But no selfies and nothing that indicated any happiness in your life. After three months, your social media accounts portrayed some happiness returning to your life as you took selfies with friends on regular nights out, but Harry knew as well as anyone that social media is one massive cover up for reality. Were you really actually happy? Were you living or were you just alive?

It seemed to him that your life continued to appear happy, but after four months of opening the app, he noticed someone by your side. Photograph after photograph, upload after upload, this person would be stood next to you. You had a side when taking photos with Harry, but now somebody else was standing on Harry’s side, taking his place, standing where he should be standing. Then tagging each other on Twitter began taking place. Simple things such as “coffee dates” and memes.

Five months after the messy break up, Harry sighted a picture of the two of you kissing; you and your new beau, as it was publicised. Your lips on his, no doubt his tongue down your throat and he wanted to vomit. It didn’t make social media, but it made the headlines in the news. The media had left you alone a little while after the break up, but of course, a new relationship for you meant gossip amongst the public, especially One Direction fans and Harry girls, and the tabloids couldn’t resist the opportunity.

Upon reaching seven months, Harry noticed another change in you on social media. You were becoming more and more inactive by the day, rarely replying to tweets and the amount of photographs posted reduced. Anybody else would put it down to business in studying and spending time with loved ones, but Harry knew how much you had loved your interactions on social media, and something didn’t sit quite right with him. But then he remembered that he’s not yours and you’re not his, and you have someone else taking care of you now.

*

Eight months later, and Harry still had you on his mind almost every minute of the day. He would awake in the morning with the help of his alarm but your hair wasn’t sprawled across the pillows as he would expect; he no longer bothered eating breakfast in the mornings; gone are the days when he used keep something warm on the stove for you, for when you awoke, ensuring you had something warm for your hungry tummy in the mornings; he had nobody to send a morning text to. His routine was completely out of sync and nothing over the last few months made it any better.

He would come home every evening to an empty apartment. He had nobody to cook dinner for. He had nobody to talk to about his day. He had nobody to snuggle up to at night. He had nobody to kiss. He had nobody to love and he had nobody to love him.

Some nights would be simple; Harry would climb into bed and flick on the television, watching a favourite film in which he no longer got pleasure out of. He’d check his social media, and then check yours, before setting his alarm and falling asleep, his dreams of you haunting him throughout the night.

Other nights, he’d yearn for you. He loved you, still loves you, and wants nothing more than to hold you whilst you sleep and keep you safe in his embrace. But he would yearn for you in other ways too, awakening in the night from happy dreams of you, his cock hard for you. He would lay awake between the sheets, grinding his hips into them and rubbing himself vigorously as he imagined being inside of you. He would let himself go completely when he could imagine the moans that would leave your lips, the breathlessness you would encounter, and it was as though he could almost feel you come around him.

He hadn’t been in another relationship since the split, but there had been a couple of one night stands. In a way to get over you, ironically, he would fuck others that had similar traits to you. The same hair colour, the same laugh, the same smile. But neither of those girls were you. He didn’t really want them, they just happened along with the alcohol consumption of both parties involved. After two girls, he stopped. He wasn’t sure if it was the reality of the situation that made him stop, or if it was the slap he received one night.

*

The music was pounding against the speaker, the DJ’s were screaming out and giving shoutouts, mostly for people’s birthday’s and other celebrations, bartenders were leaning over the bar in an attempt to actually hear what the customers were ordering in the club, and everyone was like sardines, squashed together, but everyone seemed to be enjoying it and having a good time. Everyone except Harry.

He occasionally moved around and shuffled his feet in an attempt to dance, but he felt so lost without you there. He kept an eye out to see if you were around, almost forgetting that you didn’t go there together. He always used to keep an eye on you, making sure you were safe on the dance floor and that no drunken men took advantage of you. He was your protector. 

“What’s your name?” a young blonde asked. That was the only thing that was same about the two of you. You’re blonde and so was she. But she wasn’t you. Harry wasn’t too sure if she was just acting oblivious to the fact that he was the most famous, most well-known person in the club, or whether she was just so drunk that she barely knew her own name, let alone his.

“Harry” he told her, placing his hand on the small of her back and pulling her closer so as they could hear each other’s spoken words over the thumping music.

The girl nods. “Louise” she tells him. “Fancy getting out of here?” she asks. 

Harry nods. He realises she’s not as drunk as he thought she was, but taking in her features, she looked a few years older than him. Maybe she really didn’t know who he was.

“Mine or yours?” she asks as they stumble out of the nightclub and onto the streets of London. Louise quickly hails a taxi as Harry replies, “yours.”

Whilst his own place seemed more appealing as he wouldn’t have the awkward ‘leaving after a shag’ stage, he didn’t want to take her, or anyone, to his bed. Only you got the privilege to be in his bed. He didn’t fuck anyone else in his bed, only you. He didn’t want anyone else to come in the sheets besides the two of you together and for each other.

The taxi ride back to hers was soon over and they stumbled through her apartment, his lips pressed to hers. Their eyes remained closed as he thought about you. Undressing you. Running his hands up and down your body and caressing your breasts as you laid all bare for him, for his eyes only.

Harry breathlessly pulls aways as he lifts up the miniskirt. They both quickly realise this is nothing more than sex up against the wall. She’s not taking him to bed either, and Harry wonders if Louise is also getting over someone. Within the next thought, he doesn’t care. He does’t love Louise. He loves (Y/N).

The blonde grabs at his belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his trousers, his length exposed to her. He quickly reaches into his back pocket before letting his trousers drop and rips open the packaging. Covering himself with the latex, he soon pushes himself into her. She gasps, taking him in, before moving quickly against him.

They’ve both been drinking and he knows his performance will be affected greatly, so he’s not surprised when he quickly comes inside of her, moaning her name. She gasps and he withdraws from her quickly. Before even getting the chance to dress himself, her hand collides with his cheek.

“Louise! I told you my name is Louise!” she yells at him angrily.

And in that moment, he realises that he moaned your name when he came.

*

He arrived home from the studio and continued his evening rituals. No work the following day meant he could have a later night and whilst he was glad to be able to sleep in later and not have the demands of an alarm clock, he knew from experience that on a day off where he lacked a busy schedule, you would be on his mind more than ever.

The night passed with Harry doing nothing more than eating his evening meal and lounging around in front of the television, flicking through channels to find something to entertain him for a few hours. He occasionally reached for the bottle of whiskey, pouring himself small measures each time. Whilst the drinking had become a regular habit a few months back, Harry had realised that drowning his problems with alcohol helped nobody, not even himself, and he kicked the habit almost as quickly as it had started. No amount of alcohol got you out of his head.

The comedy shows provided some entertainment, and whilst there were a few forced laughs, Harry did find some of the jokes genuinely funny. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed properly.

Tapping his watch with a yawn, he checked the time. Flicking off the television set, he threw the remotes back on the sofa and picked his body up from the position he had been in for hours. A loud, repeated knock on the door made him jump slightly. The banging got harder and more frantic and he could only wonder who would be calling in on him at this hour. “Alright, I’m coming!” he yelled in frustration. Couldn’t his unwanted and unwelcome guest wait two minutes?!

Heading into the hallway, he unlocked the door, pouting his lips to express his emotion, making sure the person on the other side of it knew he was angry at the disturbance and the complete lack of respect for him and his property. As far as they were aware, he may well have had work the next morning. Swinging the door open,  he gasps, taking in the demeanour of the person standing in front of him, the sight almost killing him as bile rose in his stomach and a nauseous feeling took control of his body.

JM: does JK hate him, what is fan service & other random ramblings

Disclaimer: Once again, I think we should be able to discuss these things in constructive manner, so if you have anything to ask/add/correct, please do so but in polite manner with respect towards me, other users and the boys.

This is not about ships, but about individuals. I’m not trying to prove Jikook with this. Simply throwing my thoughts out there. I don’t claim to know anyone personally and all this is based on my personal observations. I could be completely wrong or get some bits right or somewhat accurate, who knows. Let’s discuss.

Also warning, this is almost 3000 words lol.

After reading my thoughts on JK someone asked me if I could share my opinions on JM as well. This is a bit all over the place and less focused than the JK one, so bear with me.

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“Show Don’t Tell”? Not Always. Here’s When to Use Summary.

I was inspired to write this post after getting a great anonymous question in my Ask: “What’s your opinion on the whole ‘show don’t tell’ advice? Do you have any tips for when to show and when to tell?”

Here’s my response:

I honestly think that “show don’t tell” is one of the most over-quoted and least-understood pieces of writing advice out there.

For those of you who aren’t familiar, “show don’t tell” means that instead of explaining or telling something to your reader (“Sheila was reckless and impulsive”), you should show Sheila’s impulsiveness through action or dialogue. For example, “Even though her rent was overdue, after she got her paycheck Sheila spent $400 on an antique toilet.” This would allow the reader to draw the conclusion that Sheila was impulsive for themselves, rather than being told.

Theoretically, this is great advice for new fiction writers, who, left to their own devices, tend to write their stories entirely in “telling” mode.

But summary (telling) has a place in fiction as well, and it’s an important one.

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dating peter parker...

let me know if you liked this it’s tragically long i went overboard haha

  • first and foremost, peter would be the most loving/attentive/caring and overall best boyfriend to ever exist, ever 
  • he’s also a needy baby who likes attention 
    • “Y/N”
    • “Yes, Peter?”
    • “You haven’t kissed me in, like, five whole minutes” 
  • majority of the time you make peter very flustered so you’re usually the one to initiate the kisses because he’s a blushing mess 
  • he thinks you’re the most gorgeous person to ever walk the earth
  • he cannot believe you’re as in love with him as he is with you
    • “How’d I get so lucky”
    • “Peter stop it it’s not like I’m a magical princess I’m normal stoppp” 
    • “But are you sure about that”
  • he will adamantly deny that he likes staring at you but that’s all he does when you’re with him
  • he prefers to call it gazing because it sounds less creepy and the last thing he wants is for you to think he’s a creep
  • he likes to tease you about the fact that you had a crush on him for most of your freshman year and it annoys you endlessly 
    • “That’s so cute Y/N how adorable”
    • “I will literally break up with you right now”
    • “What no no I’m sorry I love you don’t do that” 
  • the first time he told you that he loved you he stuttered for a solid ten minutes, almost cried because c’mon Peter just tell her you love her you idiot she’s gonna hate you if you keep stumbling over your words like a madman oh my god you haven’t said anything in five minutes no one has ever been silent this long
  • finally he closed his eyes and choked out the words and when he opened his eyes he swore that he had never seen anything as beautiful as the way you were smiling at him in that very moment 
  • after that he has no problem saying it to you whenever he can no matter where you are or what you’re doing
    • “Mr. Parker can you please share what you were just whispering to Ms. Y/L/N with the rest of the class?” 
    • “Oh yeah I was just telling her that I love her because I do and I need to make sure that she doesn’t forget” *cue adorable smile*
    • Oh my god Peter please be quiet I love you too you weirdo” 
  • he kind of lives for embarrassing for you, he thinks it’s the funniest thing 
  • you love Ned too and it kind of makes Peter jealous sometimes which is just hilarious to witness
    • “You’re spending an awful lot of time with Ned” 
    • “…………..I spend every waking moment with you and Ned hangs out with us dummy” 
    • “Just checking”
  • you’re the only person he tells about being Spider-Man because you’re you and he can’t keep something like that from the love of his life that’s just not how it works
  • when he sends Happy voicemails every day he makes sure to update him on how you’re doing and whatever thing you do that day that Peter found adorable
  • when Happy finally texts Peter back he doesn’t ask Peter how he’s doing he asks about you 
  • Peter introduces you to Tony with a proud smile on his face as he practically shoves you at him 
    • “Mr. Stark Mr. Stark Mr. Stark this is my girlfriend the one Happy told you about I wanted her to meet you isn’t she cool Mr. Stark”
    • “As long as she’s not as hyper as you are I think I’ll like her very much”
    • “Oh great ‘cause she’s very calm right Y/N?”
    • “Peter babe please stop yelling in my ear” 
    • “I like her already!”
  • he’s very big on calling you my love because it makes you get all shy and you turn away from him since you’re getting embarrassed
  • he proudly talks about you to anyone within earshot and everyone comes to love you because adorable, precious Peter Parker does too
  • Aunt May might love you more than Peter does 
  • sometimes Peter will come home to find you already sitting at the table with her sipping coffee out of his favorite mug and talking about your days and he just lights up with happiness 
  • you yell at him every time he loses yet another backpack 
    • “when will you learn your lesson about webbing your bag to the wall in dark alleys where thieves and probably murders hang out”
    • “that’d be a never” 
  • you kind of hate that he’s Spider-Man since the job is extremely dangerous and he literally almost died fighting Vulture
    • “are you sure you’re okay? i don’t want you dying on me”
    • “i would never leave you my love i promise” 
  • you yell at him whenever he comes back to his house with new bruises and injuries but he knows you’re just yelling because you care and so he takes the yelling and the angry crying from you and hugs you really tight and strokes your hair and tells you that he’s fine and it’s just a scratch and gives you the whole you should see the other guy spiel 
  • he draws engagement rings on your ring finger and swears he’ll make sure it’s a real one day and not just a shitty circle drawing because yeah he’s fifteen and so are you but who cares you’re the one for him and living without you is a life he doesn’t want to even imagine 
  • it’s just not an option and never will be
  • he gets anxiety whenever you have to ride the train out of Queens and back into Manhattan alone since that’s where you live
    • “but what if something happens and i’m not there and you get hurt i wouldn’t be able to live with myself”
  • he goes through metro cards like water in the summer when he doesn’t have his student one because he refuses to let you take the train alone 
  • he never lets go of your hand when you’re together… so basically he’s never once stopped holding hands with you unless absolutely necessary
  • you telling him to ask Tony to let you become an avenger
  • you want to be Black Widow 2.0 
  • or maybe Scarlet Witch but you don’t have powers like Wanda does so Black Widow 2.0
  • Tony actually says he’ll think about it because whenever he goes to see Peter or Peter comes to see him you tag along ( “we’re kind of a package deal Mr. Stark” ) and you’ve grown on him considerably 
  • after Peter meets the Avengers for the first time you plead with him to let you meet them too and when he finally relents you almost faint in front of Cap and have a heart attack in front of Natasha 
    • “Sorry she’s a little excited she’s not usually like this” 
    • “I think I need a glass of water or an oxygen tank”
    • “Mr. Stark do you have an oxygen tank”
    • “She didn’t faint in front of me I’m offended Y/N”
  • Cap offhandedly says you and Peter are cute kids and you almost die
  • Peter is definitely not jealous aT ALL
  • you reassure him that you love him more than Cap and always will
  • you would never want Peter to think for a second that anyone else could ever take you away from him you love him too much to think about that
  • he’s just ridiculously head over heels beautifully in love with you and he wears that love on his sleeve for the entire universe to see and doesn’t care if he’s called “whipped” because hell yeah he is 
  • he managed to become the boyfriend of the most divine person he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting
  • who wouldn’t be a lovestruck mess over you is the better question
  • at least in Peter’s humble opinion
Under the Bridge | Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader
Genre:
fluff, smut, slight angst, Hybrid!AU
Words:
10.6k+
Warnings:
blood, violence (only really at the beginning), some swears, badass MC, SMUT that would probably be considered graphic?? idk
Notes:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Requested by japanesewonderflan:
I HAVE A REQUEST!!!!!! 🙌🙌🙌 Can you do a hybrid au! For either Jungkook or Jimin and you just found or bought them and they teach you about the life of a hybrid and what it’s like and then you start to understand but one-day you come home to them in heat????? 😄😄 If you don’t want to do the smut part, that’s fine too, I’m down for just fluff if you’re only comfortable with that. From your love 💙💜💚

Originally posted by sugutie


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Friday May 26th

I hadn’t had any new moments with my son due to his growing love for his little girlfriend. When my hubby and middle daughter would leave the house to us for what would have a carnal experience with son faded as he went out with her. Then mid-May came and my oldest was home from college, another schedule to try to work around. I was beginning to feel as though this was going to be a long summer, perhaps I should get out and cheat on my hubby like before, do something to fight off this mundane housewife existence.  

 My hubby needed to fly out early on the 26th, my two youngest were days away from being out school for the summer, leaving my oldest and me to workout, do lunch, and some shopping. During lunch she surprised me by telling me was going to her father’s this weekend with her sister. She felt that she had gone to college she should give him another chance at being a father. I wished her luck.

 That meant I would be alone at home tonight as I sure Adam would be seeing Amy. I began running names through my head of men I could text and begin to lure to me. Later in the evening I was proven right as the girls left the house shortly after Adam did…I was alone and unsupervised. I ate a salad and mixed myself a drink of grapefruit vodka and 7up.

I texted two men from my list and one answered immediately. By 9pm we had joked, flirted, hinted, sexted, and sent pics to one another. I was well on my way to having this friend’s husband do to me what she wouldn’t allow.

I was a bit tipsy and more a than a little turned on when the second guy finally answered his text and I began working them both.

By 10:30 I had sent pics to both men and insinuated that I needed a good hard fucking from them (separately of course, although I have a fantasy about multiple men) when I heard the front door open and close and the jingle of keys being put away. I called down stairs and received no answer. I excused myself from the texting hard-ons saying family was close by as I went to investigate the intruder. I show little fear in these situations usually because I’m tipsy and I also have a rape fantasy. I came down stairs in my usual summer nighttime apparel of a t-shirt and panties, searching around I found my son, Adam, sitting the dark media room.

 “Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked and between sniffles he tells me about him and Amy breaking up tonight. She explained she was feeling stifled or smothered by his attentions, which likely means she was looking for alone time to see someone else…not unlike me.

That little bitch. And just 3 days before his 17th birthday.

 We talked about the sad realities of life and young love (all love really) and while only time makes the heartache fade understanding seems to assure him he will be ok, in time.

 I suggested he shower and relax and I’ll make him a drink to help him sleep. Like the good boy he is, my son obeys. His shower done quickly, his night clothes (tank top and basketball shorts) on over bare feet, he returns to the kitchen to accept his vodka and 7up from me. We return to the darkened media room and continue our talk. It is now close to midnight and he is again crying over the loss of a young love, the alcohol lowering his inhibitions and loosening the tight grip he often keeps on his emotions. I rub his shoulders and speak soft words letting him know it may not seem like it now, but in time this may make him a better partner.

He tells me he is done with dating and love, no one needs this pain. In the darkness where I’m sure he cannot see I smile a soft knowing smile that he knows not what he speaks of.

He continues to softly cry and like when he was young I lie back and pull down on top of me to let him cry on my chest.

While he cries he softly he nuzzles and moves across my breasts making me remember that not too long ago I was so horny I was about to use my trusty latex vibrating lover to relieve some long pent up frustration. I shifted and slid one leg under him so that he was now lying between my legs with his head still on my chest. I gently stroked his back and the hair on his head while he cried. At some point he realized where his head was and he stopped crying and began nuzzling in earnest.

“Baby, it’s ok…I’m here for you and I always will be. I love you.”

“I love you too, mom, but I feel so alone.”

“I know baby, but I’m right here…you can feel me.”

 He nuzzled at my breasts a little more. I pulled his head up and I kissed him softly at first a kiss that might have been motherly, but our second and third kisses were not so motherly. I opened my mouth inviting his tongue inside and he did not disappoint me. I spread my legs wide using my heels to pull him towards me and I could feel his growing erection for me. He slid his hand beneath my shirt and fondled my breast, tweaking my nipple. I pulled him close for another kiss and I reached down and pushed his shorts towards his feet, hooking the band with my toes I stripped them to his ankles. He pulled clumsily at my shirt, which I pulled over my head and threw to the floor. He suckled my breasts, both us panting from the adrenalin coursing through us. I could feel the head of his young, hard cock pressing against my panties wanting in, wanting  to feel my hot wetness surrounding him. I drove my heels into his buttocks like I was using spurs on a horse to drive him forward only I wanted to drive him, my son, deep into me.

He looked up from my breasts, his eyes still red from crying and leaned forward to kiss me again. I reached down between us and slid my panties to one side. As we kissed deeply I opened my legs wide, tilted my hips at just the right angle, and I again spurred my young stallion to drive deep.

And he did.

I think both of us were a bit surprised, despite everything, when my son’s cock entered my tight wet hole. We stopped kissing and looked into each other’s eyes for a split second, then I spurred him again and my son fucked me hard. He grunted and strained his strong young body against mine. Thrusting so hard that I was sure he would bruise my tender bits and pieces my son arched his back, grunted, and came deep inside me.

 My heart soared.

 After a while of breathing heavy and holding each other he shifted and like all the times we have been intimate before he began to try to escape the situation, but I held on to him.

We sat up together and he reached for his shorts, but I placed my foot on them and wouldn’t let him raise them to cover himself. Topless, I pushed him back on the couch and I straddled him. My breasts swaying as I sat there, my dripping vagina on his quickly growing hard on. His erection reemerged and I positioned myself so that when his cock stood up, I slid down on to it. Our second session of loving making was less hurried and more gentle. It lasted quite a bit longer than our first time and ended with him cumming in my mouth.

I love the taste of our sex.

 Afterwards we walked hand in hand to the master bathroom and showered together much the same way I have showered with my husband only when I soaped up my young son he again began to get hard. I gave him a wonderful soapy handjob, rinsed him off good, led him by his cock to my husband’s bed and again I straddled him taking him deep inside me. As my hips rocked back and forth, my breasts swayed for him to watch, and late into the night my son came a third time inside me.

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

Wait what's the story about half the boys in your grade getting your class kicked out of Disney world?

Okay, if anyone is going to read this story, you are legally required to listen to the song “Turbulence” first. Nothing will truly make sense without it. You sit your ass through the entire damn song, if you try to skimp out on it the Elder’s will find you. It’s completely vital to the full experience of this stupid ass story. This ENTIRE story exasperates me

Now, okay, so my high school senior class….was relatively a group of good kids. It was a larger grade then I was used to growing up, so I obviously didn’t know everyone in the school personally, but I could pretty much recognize everyone in my grade, and like okay, there were a lot of class clowns and trouble makers™, but for the most part, no one was really a dick and everyone was generally a Decent Person.

Then, for some ungodly reason, the song ‘turbulence’ gets released. 

Now, I think the song actually came out in like, 2011 or something, but it caused Notable Problems with my grade in particular. It was deemed our ‘CLASS SONG’, and every time it played at an event or someone just played it for fun on their phone or something, every single kid in my age group just unexplainably went crazy. You never really knew what was going to happen, and it got worse each and every year- making senior year the year of Worried Faculty, and not without reason. 

Senior Year alone, before this Disney incident happened, the song ‘turbulence’ lead directly to the slightly-violent concussion of an unwillingly crowd surfing teacher and a few freshmen at homecoming, and it was also being blasted on a blue tooth speaker when a couple of boys in my class Lowkey Very Politely High-Jacked The Plane We Were On, so, when we got to Disney World, the chaperones made sure to contact whoever was in charge of our party and told them under no circumstances was this song to be played.

Anyway.

So the school does a Disney trip for the seniors every year- they stay in a cheap hotel and shove four or five withering and hormonal teens in a room, they go to the parks during the day, one night they walk through Universal and see the Blue Man Group in concert, and one night they usually have a big dinner and dance party for the kids, usually held in Sea World. 

But, you know what came out when they were planning the Disney trip? Blackfish. So, the school board (and a lot of the students) were like “UMM-” and that left them scrambling to find a new location for the party. 

The Disney workers, being Disney workers, were super helpful when the school mentioned this issue when they called to make reservations, though. They were like, “Oh, this is great timing! Your school always brings such well-behaved kids every year, and we’ve been thinking about opening up our Fantasia Gardens golf course as a party location! You guys could be our first official party!” and the school was super flattered so they agreed. Disney was providing a dance floor, food, a DJ, and everything else, and it wasn’t going to really cost anything extra, so the faculty was like, Super Excited about it. They thought this was gonna be a great thing, they were the experiment to see if they would try this with other schools, it was an honor, and it meant that they had a great reputation in Disney’s opinion, so maybe they’d be open to providing the school with free/new stuff/opportunities in future years.

Now, let me tell you something- I was Kinda Fucking Miserable for most of this trip. The first day was fine, but the second day saw my friends abandoning me in Magic Kingdom with barely any explanation, so I spent all day roaming MK and Epicot alone, save for occasionally standing next to acquaintances and talking to my different-school friends in a group chat on my phone, and then later that night my friend since third grade like, got a school official and cried to her about how I had instigated a fight and that’s why I was alone all day, which is literally such bullshit and not what happened, it‘s been 3 years and I still cannot believe she actually pulled this fuckery, so even though we made up later in the week I was still pissed the fuck off for the rest of my life the trip. All of my roommates (the deserters) were walking on eggshells around me, except this one control-freak girl who tried to micromanage everything I did (even though literally none of it affected her)  and none of us realized how pissed off I was until I apparently physically threw her out of the bed while I was in a deep sleep, multiple times, and also stole her pillow. So the only person who I wasn’t Fully Done with was this tiny girl from a writing class, but she was potentially Half-Hamster, exclusively wore clothes made for seven year olds, couldn’t go on half of the rides because of her glass eye, and 99% of her conversation points was talking about all the plans she had to hang out with one of the other girls I was rooming with (who didn’t actually wanna hang out with her/got mad at me the third day there because the boy she liked was flirting with me), so like…she was sweet but I also wanna go on rides and not hear how great the girls I’m lowkey in a Blood Feud with are, you know? She wasn’t exactly prime hang out material here. So by the time we get to this party at Fantasia Gardens, we’re all lowkey pretending like everything’s fine but like. It wasn’t hard to tell there was fighting going on. And you could just look at all the other students around you and see there was also fighting going on. Shoving so many kids in hot rooms is never a good idea, like YIKE. 

Anyway, I needed something at this party to be fun. I needed to be released at this point. 

I walk into the place and immediately realize I’m a fucking outlier amongst the girls- every single girl had opted for a sundress, whilst I thought a black skirt and a nice blouse would be enough. This should not have been a problem, but hey. High School. What can ya do. (it just made me more stressed) At this point I was like, this is it, this is it, I hate literally everyone in my high school. There’s nothing holding me back. Graduation take me the fuck away. But I had to make it through this party and then one more day in Disney. 

The room was like, a barn, kind off? Or at the very least it had been decorated like one. There was barbecue food, a dance floor, a lake outside, and a mini-golf course that we were told we were allowed to use at any part of the night. The DJ was playing relatively normal dance/club music. After about an hour of strobe lights and watching people dancing, My Friend Who Hath Betrayed Me and I decided to head down to the mini-golf course. 

There were these two guys there, and I didn’t really know them but they were clearly those ‘All Our Classmates Are Beneath Us Because We’re Alternative And Like Anime And Heavy Metal Music’ types of guys. They took one look at my ass in a tight black mini-skirt and immediately started flirting with me, and on any other occasion I would have shot them down, but 1) They were both actively focused on me over my friend, who I was still mad at and 2) I was frustrated - so I started flirting back even though I wasn’t interested in the slightest (and I had petty reasoning, of course, but I was 18, it was a bad week, it was 100 degrees, give me a break. I promise 99% of the time I’m not Awful). So anyway, we get caught up in a game of mini-golf with these anti-establishment boys, who spend the entire time dissing our classmates for, like, dancing, and looking for excuses to show off in front of me/touch me. We missed like half the dance because of this. 

Right when we were finishing our game, we were contemplating going to the other golf course (I was looking for an excuse to head back to the party tbh we were literally the only four people outside it was starting to feel like the set up to a horror movie) when a girl came up and told us to head back in because the boys™ had busted out the alcohol and we only had a limited amount of time before the chaperones noticed. 

(They sold alcohol at our hotel, a bunch of people had fake id’s made before the trip for this very reason). Me and my friend didn’t actually feel like drinking but we took the excuse and the boys followed us back inside (we lost them on the dance floor and I only saw them once again that night). Anyway, we arrived to what we thought was Chaos, but was truly only the Beginning of Chaos

Right off the bat, I noticed the boys from my Gov class and the boys I knew from detention were huddled around each other, muttering under the music. That, I knew, was not gonna lead to anything good. They see me, and they’re like “Javert! Javert people trust you! Go request that the DJ play turbulence!” and I’m like. No. What are you fucking planning??? But they just keep pressing me. They would not drop it oh my God. One of my roommates overhears this, the one who’s mad at me because her crush she never talks to was slightly flirting with me earlier, and she’s in a petty™ mood so she asks why they want it to play but they still won’t tell her, just keep insisting that it has to happening. So she’s all, ‘I can get it to play’ and struts off to the DJ booth with an exaggerated ponytail snap. I’m left with these boys like. For fucks sake please don’t get anyone killed. 

A few boys break off to go tap people and let them know what’s going on. The smell of alcohol is strong. Boys are starting to discreetly take off their shoes and any valuables and hide them under the tables. The chaperones aren‘t noticing any of this. 

I broke away from the dance floor to get a soda, and one of the teachers sees me looking mildly distressed and asks if something’s wrong. And I know. I know that I have the power to kill whatever the hell is about to happen. I’m the sole person in this room that’s clued in who’s not whispering in excitement and waiting for the song to play. I still don’t even know what they’re all planning on doing, but I could end this so fast, just say the words ‘turbulence’ or ‘the boys’ or ‘senior prank’, and this would be nipped in the bud immediately. This could be over before it ever started, all because of me.

And then I reflect on how shitty my weeks been going, how I was frustrated with most of the people in the room, how I needed something fun to happen at this party to release me from hell. 

I tell the chaperone I’m fine, just getting a little tired, and they drop it and head back to the buffet line. 

I head back to the dance floor. Everyone is grinding with baited breath. 

The DJ’s voice comes over the microphone: “I hear it’s someone’s birthday tomorrow! Let’s play her favorite song!”

Turbulence begins to play.

The class goes wild, wilder than they’ve ever been before. The building may as well be shaking from all the noise and music. 

The teachers are trying to get the DJ’s attention to cut the song. He can’t hear them. 

The bass drops

Almost every boy on the dance floor screams, runs outside, rips off their shirts and jumps into the fucking lake

It was absolute PANDEMONIUM. This wasn’t even the funniest thing they could have come up with but everyone left on the dance floor was loosing their minds cracking up. The teachers and Disney workers were screaming at the top of their lungs and trying to haul boys back onto the land. 

Then the manager of Fantasia Gardens starts screaming that there are alligators in the fucking lake

Like. FUCKING. IT’S FLORIDA. HOW DID NO ONE THINK THERE WAS GONNA BE AN ALLIGATOR PROBLEM. F L O R I D A. 

THESE DUMBASS BOYS JUMPED INTO A FUCKING ALLIGATOR INFESTED LAKE.

A L L I G A T O R S. 

FUCK.

All the boys eventually make it back onto land- no one had been bitten or killed or anything, although a few apparently did see ‘shapes moving’ (it was late at night, so nothing clear), and one kid got kicked in the head and knocked out for a few moments and almost drowned, but everyone was intact. 

DISNEY WORLD WAS FURIOUS

And like, you can’t fucking blame them. I’m sure when they were making the principal sign liability papers, they didn’t think to include ‘late night gator attacks in a lake’ on the list, they could’ve been put in serious trouble if something had happened omfg. But there was a LOT of yelling/ranting/cursing. NEVER before have they seen such inappropriate behavior, the school would not be allowed to step foot in the Fantasia Gardens EVER again, yadayada, that sort of thing. The more boys I found soaking wet, the more ridiculous this got- I knew which of them had planned it of course, but this was most of the grade. There were like, geeks and nerds and Good Kids™ who I never expected to do something like wild like this standing around half naked looking torn between proud and about-to-cry omfg.

Every single boy who participated got suspended for three days, but they had to space out which boys were suspended which days because they didn’t trust them to not throw a giant party on the days they weren’t there. 

The school is still allowed in Disney World every year, but are banned from Fantasia Gardens and received a fine. 

Turbulence’ was absolutely banned from being played at senior prom. 

BTS replaced you. - pt.END

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.END]


Originally posted by mimibtsghost

“You guys have no idea how hurt she is that you basically threw her to the curb and left her like that.” I looked at all seven of the men who stood before me after Y/N had ran to her room and closed the door behind her.

“Why are you interfering? What did you say to her to get her to hate us like this?” Jungkook stood before me, squaring up as if he was ready to throw a punch. But I took a step back.

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kitsunelover142  asked:

The attic AU looks amazing, cuz this is the first time I've seen it. Do you think you could summarize it? Because I went through the tag too, and I am still lost

AIGHT. HERE’S ATTIC AU IN A SHITTON OF BULLET POINTS

//shoots off of a breach of trust chapter 8

• reigen loses the knife fight, mogami murders tetsuo, possesses reig, uses the policeman cuffs to keep reigen bound up in the attic. 

• reigami is immune to the cuffs cause he’s a ghost/psychic type pokemon but reigen is made of regular human so he’s outta luck

• mogami depletes the rest of reigen’s funds and runs the rest of his credit deep in the red because ‘hey instead of hopping from vessel to vessel, i can just keep this one dude because he has no personal relationships’

• BAD TIEMS FOR A YEAR (mob’s goin on 5)

• mogami likes to prattle terrible advice for a living (dying ?) so he gives reigen advice about how he’s an awful person and how his savior complex killed tetsuo, and HEY ! i think you deserve to be in this attic because you used people and dont matter to anyone ever in ur life - the proof is that no one is looking for you

• cursed blender corpse as a roommate

• reigen also has to live with the knowledge that if he caught mogami off guard, he could have peed on his corpse. if he has to know this so do you.

• only mogami eats with reigen’s body in attic au, because he has a food fetish.

• all other necessary toiletries n shower stuff is handled with mogami awkwardly standing by because he doesn’t want his vessel to do anything, like dying, or the macarena, without permission.

• if you ever have a question about a thing, the answer is probably “cause mogami”

-why didn’t reigen scream for help ? cause mogami

-why is reigen so skinny ? cause mogami

-why does the attic smell like something up and died? cause mogami

• after some time, mogami gets more stupid and throws a loud, physical temper tantrum at mob, who also deserves none of this. its so loud that reigen can hear mob apologizing in the midst of the noise. now Reigen Knows 

• reigen’s too apathetic about himself to try ghost murder with only a .05% chance of it working, BUT WITH A KID INVOLVED, HOWEVER 

[neil breen voice] that’s just not right

reigen shouts for mob to run, but mogami gets upset that reigen broke his ‘no screm’ policy and mcslices his neck as a visual metaphor to Shut The Hell Your Mouth. 

• mogami’s threat is null and void against HOLYSHITTHERE’SACHILDTHERE’SACHILDOHFUCKOHMYFUCK

• cue reigen sawing through the wood bedframe with his handcuff chain, pulling upon dusty knowledge of hack sigils

• reigen gambles his life on this moment, and because he’s had so much yikes this year, the universe cuts him a break. 

• mogami does the [dies but not for good] anime scream

• reigen stumbles downstairs looking for the kid. holy shit i have a duty and a reason to exist now! reigen thinks. he finds mob, and mob’s saying something but reigen is too focused on ‘we gotta get out of this house Right Now because i dont know if mogami is dead dead and i just seriously pissed him off’ 

• he hoists the kid in his arms to skedaddle

• unfortunately hoisting involves at least 100% shredding where mob is involved, and because the conduit sigil was drawn on his chest he gets an instant tattoo

• mob asks reigen how he got through the barrier, and rather than tell the kid that he didn’t and that he’s bleedy mcbleederson, reigen fumbles the excuse that he’s a barrier specialist and that police! are a thing! mob’s too emo to understand anything and cries himself to sleep. he deserves any and all naps.

• reigen’s still bleeding out however, and his walking skills are only lvl 1 cause mogami. he gets about 2-3 blocks, but u know who lives around there ?

• tetsuo’s ghost ex machina (he formed back a la dimple with his biggest concern being the spawn point : jun)

• since reigen’s wiping his feet on death’s doormat, he can see tets and explain the what the fuck is up. he also gives tetsuo the remote to his body because tetsuo’s better at call of duty than he is and the call of duty is HELP US PLEASE

• tetsuo’s trusted popo position helps the police/hospital staff believe that the sigils are needed, so no one else gets shreddy.

• tetsuo peaces out and reigen passes out

• when reigen wakes back up, he’s in a hospital and his ouchies are dealt with. the special case of Holy Shit its a Real Psychic Child Who Needs Help kinda blindsides the staff, so reigen isn’t looked at closely. 

• Mob’s still working on not shredding folks so Reigen is turned away from seeing him. Also money. To quote Letters : “Reigen left the building owning less than he’d had when he entered.” 

• there goes reigen’s reason for existing

• as would realistically happen, reigen’s been evicted, his workplace repurposed, and reigen doesn’t have enough bat bucks or pleasing body odor to make his case.

• fluorescent lights are a literal trigger for reigen, because that was reigami’s main hang out spot outside the attic. so now any department store is a 1000 square foot lesson in dissociation and trying not to look like you’re drunk

• it’s a miracle reigen even managed to shoplift the tent he sleeps in (i headcanon a clerk saw, took pity, and took one for the team for im)

• he spends about a month in the tent, asking for muns for noms

• tetsuo gets the credit for saving mob, because he’s prettier than reigen, and so is his wife. reigen’s jimmies remain unrustled with this

• cue mob wanting to show gratitude to the man who brought him in. he brings it up to the other social workers/therapists, to which they go ‘uhhhh we’ve never heard of the guy’ 

• the more everyone finds out, the more this gif plays in the back of their heads

• the kageyamas eventually follow the breadcrumbs back to the popo . isa gives them the only info they have on reigen arataka : which is that he’s been listed as an (either missing or dead, depending on the version) person for a while.

• ritsu finds him, for mob, via spirit hoarde network (because like in canon, once’s mogami’s “gone” all the little spirits come out to play. and gimcrack asks to slurp some of ritsu’s spirit juice if he can run him errands. except THIS TIME, the kageyama family has had their fill of evil spirits using them, so Ritsu keeps them the fuck in line)

• i have a joke where they send out the spirits to find “a thin, brown haired man with a scar on his face, possibly wearing a suit” and it leads to sakurai

• when they find reigen he’s got one foot in the darkness and the other in a rainbow croc

• he’s not all there

•the kageyamas aren’t about to let the man who helped bring their boy back die via crocs so they bring him home

• hurt/comfort hijinks ensue, including a Colorful Boi, a game of illegal Uno, Crying over Spilled Noodles, Fashion Upgrades, Waterbending, and There’s A Lack Of Context But Dimple Shows Up One Day

Bruises On Another (part seven)

Originally posted by kings-of-my-heart

Prompt: Steve doesn’t know where they come from, and he isn’t exactly sure why they’re there. All he knows is that his body is littered in bruises, and there’s something different about them. They aren’t just bruises, and they certainly didn’t come from a trip in a step or clumsiness. No, Steve knows there’s more behind the marks that litter his body.

THIS IS A SERIES: one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - finale

Pairing: Slow!Burn Steve x Reader

Warnings: marks, bruises, pain, physical abuse, force, sexual inclinations, etc. I mean no disrespect to anyone or to upset anyone, this story starts off rough but I can say that things will get better.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.

Oh! And just to be clear, this derives from canon plot. While Nancy still broke up with Steve and the whole Halloween party still happened, the events with the demodog and everything doesn’t- mainly because it wouldn’t fit with how i’d like to take my story. So I hope you all don’t mind.

P.S. This a soulmate AU.

I will NO LONGER be adding anyone to the Tag’s List!


Steve stared at the disappearing figure of your father’s car, sighing heavily in thought. He hesitated in chasing after you, debating whether that really was the right decision. It almost seemed as if you didn’t want him to help you, but then Steve remembered the fear in your eyes when you’d screamed out in terror. He had you in his arms, you were safe and then suddenly you were just gone. 

Steve had you- and in that one short moment he’d actually seen you smile. And then it just vanished.

You were afraid, Steve knew, and that’s why you pushed him away. The unknown- you didn’t know what would happen to you or him if Steve fought your father or had said something, so you’d pushed him away just like he’d seen you push everyone else away these past few days. Steve may have only known you for a short amount of time but that afternoon he felt as if he learned so much about you. The vulnerability in your eyes had broke his heart, your severe lack of confidence had rendered him speechless.

Steve didn’t know if the abuse had been happening your whole life or more recently, but none of it mattered. What your father has done to you has turned you into nothing, something to be used and abused. And Steve knew that you were more than that- everyone was more than that. You needed help, needed someone to guide you into the light and show you what love and care looked like.

And Steve wasn’t willing to let you suffer. Damn what would happen to him- damn if you hated him forever. Your father had seemed angry, angrier than Steve’d ever seen anyone else, and he wasn’t willing to let that pathetic excuse for a man lay one more hand on you.

Making his decision, he begun running towards his car. Steve wasted no time in opening his door, practically falling into the drivers seat and turning on the engine. He sped out of his parking spot, rushing to reach your house. You’d gotten a head start but he was determined to reach you before anything bad happen. 

It wasn’t a long drive but to Steve it felt like forever, until finally he turned down the street of your house. You’d probably been home for a good ten to twenty minutes already and Steve felt his heart beating rapidly against his chest in fear of what your father had already managed to do to you. Once parked on the side of the road, Steve practically swung open his door and stepped out. He took quick steps and practically ran up the stairs to your porch, reaching your front door in seconds.

Steve could hear, even from his car, yelling from your father and soft cries that he could only assume came from you. He felt anger spike at his heart and his chest tighten in disgust at the man who pretended to be your father. Luckily for Steve, your father had left open the door and practically slamming it open, Steve stepped into the house.

It didn’t take him long to find you, and as he did your father swung his fist down directly smacking you in the face. You cried out in pain and Steve felt is eyes widen in surprise, before a sudden shock of pain ran through him. He gripped the same place your father had hit you, only on his own face in pain and let out a groan. Steve wondered why that one time it’d hurt, when none of the bruises that your father had inflicted on you had never hurt him.

But none of that mattered because the moment Steve recovered, he found both yours and your father’s eyes on him. He met yours, hating the pain behind them as you cried desperately. Though it almost seemed as if you were relieved at the sight of Steve, and Steve felt his soft eyes spike in anger as they met your fathers.


“Father!”

You groaned out in pain as your father practically kicked you into the house, falling to the ground with a loud thud. You spun around quickly, knowing your father was just behind you and watched with desperate eyes as he closed the door. The lights weren’t on in the house and you watched with despair as the door was shut and whatever light you had disappeared before your very own eyes. The dark had always scared you, but your fear of it had only grown when the abuse had started. “Father, please-” 

“You whore!” Your father belted out, leaning over your body. You cried out in fear, crawling back as fast as you could. “Get up!” Knowing better than to delay, you rushed up so you were on your feet and held your head high as your father gripped you with a bruising force. “What were you doing with that boy?” Your father asked and you shook your head, about to explain. But before you could answer, he spoke; “I thought I told you to stay away from him.”

“I tried-”

He tightened his grip and you let out a groan as your jaw ached in pain. “Forty minutes late- forty minutes spent with that boy. Steve was it? Do you take me for a fool?”

“No,” you sobbed, shaking your head as best at you could. “No, please, father I didn’t mean to-”

“I don’t care!” Your father interrupted, roughly shoving your head away. You struggled to stay balanced, feeling your knees grow weak beneath you and your whole body shake. You felt like you might pass out, your ears ringing from the volume your father was speaking at. You should’ve stayed with Steve- you should’ve…

What did you do to deserve this?

“Dad please!” You haven’t called your father ‘dad’ in so long, the last time you had he’d beat you for not showing him enough respect. But you were so desperate to have your dad back, to have the father you once had- you’d try anything. “I’m sorry.” You cried out, feeling every bit of defiance leave you and all hope disappear. You just wanted your dad back.

“I’m not your dad.” Your father spat, his voice this time much more quiet. Your eyes widened upon his words and meeting his eyes, you tried to see through the blur of your tears. What did he mean?

Your father took a step forward and you flinched when his hand reached out towards you. “And you’re certainly not my daughter.” His hand moved towards your neck, grabbing ahold of the necklace you so dearly cared for. It felt like your heart stopped as he gripped it and time slowed down as you cried out, begging him not to touch it. “And you certainly aren’t hers.” Then before you knew it, the necklace was ripped from your neck, falling to the ground pathetically.

Time slowed as you watched it hit the ground. Falling to your knees, you grabbed the ruined necklace with shaky hands, not quite believing what had just happened. 

“You killed her.”

You missed the door open and Steve step through as your father roughly grabbed the necklace and chucked it across the room. Then before you knew it there was a sharp pain radiating through your cheek and you were falling back, crying out in pain. It wasn’t until you heard a manlier cry, one that wasn’t your fathers, did you noticed Steve. And glancing up at him, you met his eyes with tears in your own.

He’d come…

Steve had come to help you-

Then his eyes left yours.


“You son of a bitch!” Steve bellowed out and took a step before you.

“You’re the boy who’s been-” Your father never got to finish his sentence before Steve punched him across the face so hard he stumbled back in surprise. It just so happened that as he stumbled back, he tripped over his own two feet in dizziness and fell to the ground. You watched with wide eyes, the tears seizing as he fell and his eyes closed in shock.

Then there was a hand gripping your arm, pulling you up. “Come on.” Steve’s soft voice filled your ears. “Come on, Y/N. I’ve got you- i’m not gonna let him hurt you anymore.” He pulled you up to your feet and begun leading you out the door. You didn’t fight him, your eyes staying glued to your fathers before you were suddenly outside and entering Steve’s car.

He set you in the passenger’s seat gently, buckling you up himself before making his way around to his own seat. The moment Steve sat in his car, he turned to you as your eyes stayed glued before you. Steve watched you, waiting for something to happen, but nothing ever did, and eventually you turned to meet his eyes.

“Y/N-”

“He was going to kill me.” You whispered, meeting Steve’s eye and Steve shook his head. What you said was true, he just didn’t know how to respond. “My father- my dad wanted to kill me.”

“It’ll be okay.” Steve reassured and you shook your head.

“How?”

“I’m taking you to the police.” Steve answered. “I’m taking you to the chief.”


Part 8? 

Let me know below!

We’re nearing the end guys!

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13 | You’ll Never Walk Alone

BTS + GOT7 X READER [GANG!AU]

WORD COUNT: 5,345

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut. this chapter contains graphic content such as violence, gruesome torture, death, blood, wound details and grief

Originally posted by manwalage

masterlist | ask | prev | next

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Sundays (Part 2)

Originally posted by harrysimpact

Part two, the one that might have actually killed me. You guys are wonderful, never forget it. Here’s Part One if you missed it. As always, leave any comments or thoughts, and I love you all tremendously. xx - L

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2,172

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To Build A Home - Chapter 1

This is my first ever (Human AU) Sanders Sides fic, and to be honest, I’m kind of terrified about posting it but the lovely @toxicsanders and @tinysidestrashcaptain convinced me to give it a shot so I hope you enjoy it :)


Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse, insecure thoughts, no more I can think of for this particular chapter but if you want me to add any then let me know!

Pairings: Logan/Patton (Logicality)

Summary: There was a long silence as Virgil processed the words, his eyes darting between the pair of them. “Y-You-” he swallowed heavily. “You want to adopt me?”

This was a joke. Surely, it was a joke. Nobody ever wanted him. Nobody had ever shown the slightest bit of interest in adopting him. ”

Virgil never believed he was good enough for a loving family until the day that Patton and Logan walked into the orphanage.


Also found on Ao3 here 



“Today’s the day.”

“I have a good feeling about this one!”

“It’s going to happen.”

Virgil tried to ignore the excited voices of the other children as he silently ate his breakfast. He didn’t want to think about what was going to happen later that day. He knew what was going to happen, but he wanted to pretend that it wasn’t. What he really wanted to do was crawl back into his bed and sleep the entire afternoon away, but he couldn’t do that. He had to help tidy up and then make himself look presentable because that very afternoon they would have visitors. They would be meeting the people that could potentially become their new families.

Virgil had been in the orphanage for almost a year. He had been through many of these interviews before, and he had been passed up every single time. Nobody wanted him, nobody liked him. He was too quiet, too awkward, too shy, too anxious, too much of this and not enough of that. Virgil had heard every reason and every possible excuse, and though he didn’t blame those people for not wanting to adopt him, it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt him. Also, it was a known fact that the older you got, the less likely you were to be adopted and with Virgil just having celebrated his ninth birthday, his chances of adoption were getting slimmer.

He tried -and failed- to cast all these negative thoughts aside as he pushed away his half eaten plate of food.

“Are you sure you’ve had enough to eat, Virgil?” the matron Diane asked, observing him with a frown. Virgil nodded and she sighed. “Very well. Head upstairs and get ready. Today could be your lucky day.”

Virgil doubted that but he wasn’t going to give up a chance to stand up and scurry from the room.



It was an interesting interviewing method that this orphanage had. Instead of having each child meet the potential parents individually, they were all encouraged to go and play in the enormous living-room. That way the possible new families could get to know the orphans in a comfortable and familiar environment.

While most of the kids were loud and willing to play, Virgil immediately sat himself down in the corner of the room, grabbing the nearest book he could find, and holding it in front of his face. He wasn’t actually reading it but by doing this, he could see what was going on around him.

It didn’t take long before the room was filled with people and noise, two things Virgil wasn’t entirely fond of. He kept to himself, content to watch the many adults interacting with his fellow orphans. When, after a few minutes, nobody had approached him, he felt himself relax just a little and he lowered his book.

Big mistake.

Instantly a man noticed him, and within seconds was making his way over. Virgil panicked. Sure, the man looked kind but that could all be an act? Should he get up and flee? Should he stay where he was? Virgil was still undecided on what to do when the stranger finally reached him.

“Hi!”

Go away. Go away. Go away.

“H-Hi,” Virgil mumbled, sounding as unfriendly as possible, but that didn’t deter the man.

“What’s your name?”

You don’t want me. Please leave me alone.

“Virgil.”

“Nice to meet you, Virgil,” the man said, smiling so widely that it almost blinded Virgil. “I’m Patton.”

He -Patton- suddenly gasped. “Is that Winnie The Pooh?” He was pointing at the book in Virgil’s hands and Virgil’s shrugged.

“I guess?” Truth be told, he didn’t know.

“I love Winnie The Pooh! Who’s your favourite?” Was this man for real?

“Uh….That one,” Virgil said, gesturing to a random character on his open page.

“I like Eeyore, too,” Patton said cheerfully. “He’s important to their group even if he is a bit sad, sometimes.” There was something about the way that Patton said that which made Virgil wonder if he was talking about more than just the little grey donkey.

“Yeah.”

“Why are you by yourself, Virgil?” Patton enquired.

Why indeed.

Maybe because the other kids don’t like me or want me around. Maybe I’m trying not to ruin their chances of adoption by being my usual annoying self.


“I just want to read,” Virgil lied.

“You remind me of Logan,” Patton said.

“Logan?”

“My husband. I’ll go get him!”

Wait.

“Your husband? What?”

“Yeah! Is-Is that okay?” Patton asked nervously.

“Uh, yeah, I just, why do you need to get him?” Virgil questioned.

“So he can meet you, of course,” Patton laughed before he looked apprehensive again, “if you want to.”

No. No. No.

“I… Sure.” This was not how he thought his day would go.

“Awesome!” Virgil watched as Patton crossed the room to a man who was sitting with two girls at the crafts table. He didn’t understand why Patton was showing such an interest in him. It was probably pity, Virgil decided, Patton had noticed him sitting all on his own and had felt sorry for him so he was just making an effort to be nice. Well, maybe Virgil could talk to them for a couple minutes, then they’d see how weird he was and move on.

Virgil swallowed, hiding behind Winnie The Pooh again as Patton made his way back over, the other man now in tow. He was much more serious looking than Patton, his expression rather annoyed and his shirt was splattered in paint.

“-They threw paint at me, Patton.” Virgil heard the man say as they reached him.

“Yeah, the twins will do that,” Virgil said, catching himself off guard. He didn’t usually speak unless he was spoken to, but there was something about Patton that just made him feel more relaxed.

He glanced up at the two men and Patton beamed. “Logan, this is Virgil,” he said excitedly, and in a stage whisper added, “he likes Winnie the Pooh, too!”

Patton’s partner - Logan?- peered down at Virgil through his glasses, and Virgil found himself blushing under the gaze. He wasn’t accustom to so much attention.

“Hello.”

“Salutations,” Logan replied. “Virgil, is it? Like the Roman poet?”

“The Roman poet?” Virgil replied curiously.

“Yes,” Logan nodded, “his most notable work was his last poem Aeneid where he…” Logan trailed off, his cheeks turning pink. “Never mind, you’re probably not interested.” He had learned long ago that the majority of people tended not to listen when he went off into tangents.

“No,” Virgil said quickly, “I am! I like poetry.”

“You do?” Logan asked, and somehow Patton’s smile became wider. The pair sat on the floor in front of Virgil who put aside his book to give them his full attention.

“Yeah, it’s always the best when the matron reads it to us during reading time,” Virgil said, “but she doesn’t do it much. The other kids know that I like it so they always ask her to read something else, instead.”

“Why would they do that?” Patton asked.

“Because they don’t really like me,” Virgil admitted, “hardly anybody does,” he mumbled to himself but they heard him anyway.

“Aw, kiddo,” Patton said sadly. “How could anybody not like you?”

Virgil shrugged, feeling overwhelmed again, and he returned to his book knowing that they’d get bored of him very shortly and go to greet some of the other children.

In actual fact, Logan and Patton were having a silent conversation over top of the boy’s head.

Logan knew where Patton stood, Patton loved the kid already -that was who he was- and his heart was broken over just how flat Virgil sounded. No child should be made to believe that nobody cared for them.

As for Logan, he was a tiny bit more hesitant. He liked Virgil, there was something about him that reminded Logan of his own childhood. He had been dubbed as the nerdy loser during his school years, completely without friends until Patton had come along. Patton had shown him what it was like to have somebody that truly cared for you, he had accepted him as he was, and if any of the kids here deserved that kind of love, it was Virgil.

With a small jerk of Logan’s head, Patton knew he had his answer and he almost couldn’t contain his squeal.

“Hey, Virgil?” Patton began, shaking Virgil’s shoulder slightly when the boy didn’t respond. “Kiddo?”

This time, Virgil did drop his book and jumped back from Patton. “Huh? What?” he cried and then turned red when he saw them. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said nervously. “I thought you had enough of me.”  

“Not at all,” Patton insisted. “We actually want to ask you-”

“Who the best kids are?” Virgil questioned. “Well, I guess Jesse would be okay, he’s over by the craft table.”

“Virgil-”

“Or if you want someone who plays sports then I would say-”

“Virgil.” Patton said firmly, and Virgil’s mouth snapped shut.

“Sorry,” he said softly.

“No trouble, kiddo,” Patton smiled. “We want to know if you would like to become a part of our family.”

There was a long silence as Virgil processed the words, his eyes darting between the pair of them. “Y-You-” he swallowed heavily. “You want to adopt me?”

This was a joke. Surely, it was a joke. Nobody ever wanted him. Nobody had ever shown the slightest bit of interest in adopting him.

“Yes.”

Okay, not a joke.

“Why?” Virgil asked suspiciously.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“Because…Because…”

Because I’m bad.

Because nobody could ever love me.

How could they?

“Kiddo?”

Virgil pushed down the thoughts in his head and whispered, “because nobody wants me.”

“We do,” Patton said firmly as Logan nodded. “We think you’re a pretty great kid and we’d love to have you with us.”

“But there’s no pressure,” Logan added. “If you don’t want to then that’s okay.”

“No!” Virgil cried, startling both of them. “I do. I would like that.”

Virgil’s outburst had shocked even himself because he never usually admitted things like this but it was possible that they would be his only chance at a proper family, and if he was being truthful, he liked them. He didn’t know what it was but something about this couple made Virgil feel safer, something he had never known before.

“Okay,” Logan said. “Then let’s go sign some paperwork.”


“You want to adopt Virgil?” Diane asked for the tenth time since Logan and Patton had approached her in her office.

“Yes,” Logan replied, “why is that so hard for you to comprehend?”

“Logan!” Patton said through gritted teeth but Diane only smiled.

“I’m sorry, I must admit that I’m a little surprised is all,” she frowned. “Not many people have ever made a connection with Virgil.”

Patton’s expression turned sad. “Why not? He seems like a good kid!”

“Oh, he is,” Diane nodded but then sighed, “it’s just…Well, Virgil didn’t have an easy childhood.”

“One would assume so,” Logan mused. “Why else would he be in an orphanage?”

“Logan!”

“His birth parents are currently in prison,” Diane went on as if there’d be no interruption. “They were very abusive towards Virgil. Look,” she sat forward in her chair, folding her arms over her desk, “I’m going to be completely honest with you. Virgil is different to the other children here, most of them are only here because their parents died when they were very young. Virgil has a lot of issues, and he needs much more attention.”

“I’m going to stop you for a second,” Logan said, holding up his hand. “Are you trying to put us off adopting him?”

“No!” Diane said. “No, of course not. Like I said, he’s a good kid, I just want you to know what you’re getting into. Virgil-”

“Deserves a chance,” Patton put in. “He deserves to have the same experience as all the kids here, a loving family. We can provide that for him, we will provide that for him.”

“That is why we decided to do this,” Logan added. “We agreed that when we took on a child, we’d keep them safe, and we will.”

Diane leaned back, her eyes scanning both their faces intestenly before she seemed satisfied with their responses. “I used to worry about Virgil, you know,” she said quietly, “that he’d never find a family good enough for him. It looks like I was right,” she laughed at their offended expressions.

“But-”

“I was right,” she repeated, “because in the end, the best possible family found him instead.”



Even though they had adopted him, there was still a couple of weeks where the paperwork would need to be finalised before it could be official so Virgil was required to stay in the orphanage until then.

The other children were shocked that Virgil had been adopted, truthfully so was he, and they had made it their mission to make his last few weeks in there as uncomfortable as possible. Everyday they fed into his secret fears, telling him that it was all a joke and he didn’t really have a new family. Virgil believed they were right, it just didn’t make sense, he had never been considered for adoption before so why would he be now? Virgil tried to act nonchalant about it, pretending it didn’t bother him whether the couple returned or not, and it worked for the most part. On the day they were due to take him home, however, Virgil wasn’t fooling anybody. He spent the morning packing his very few items into a suitcase then running back and forth from his shared bedroom to the window in the front entrance.

“They’re not coming for for you, you know?” the eldest child Bobby said. “Really, who would want you ?”

Virgil didn’t reply. He was trying his best to ignore them and the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach but as the morning turned to afternoon, and the afternoon light faded into evening, he had given up hope.

“Told you.”

“Shut up,” Virgil mumbled as the other kids snickered. He turned away from the window and dejectly started towards his room when Diane poked her head around the corner.

“Virgil, there you are,” the matron smiled. “I’ve been calling for the last five minutes. Are you ready?”

“W-What do you mean?” Virgil stammered, his brow creasing in confusion.

“Did you think they weren’t coming?” Diane questioned, her tone sympathetic. “They were just a little late, that’s all. There was plenty of traffic on the roads today.”

“Oh,” Virgil felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Go on get your things and say goodbye to the other children,” Diane said. “I will be waiting out the front when you’re ready to leave.”

Virgil almost laughed at the absurdity of that statement. He had been ready to leave the orphanage the very day he had stepped foot into it. Diane withdrew from the room and Virgil did the same, running to grab his bag before returning to the other children.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye then,” he said.

“Bye,” Jesse muttered.

“You’ll be back,” Bobby said. “They won’t want to keep you.”

The majority of these kids had been in the orphanage all their lives, and so Virgil knew they didn’t really mean the hurtful things they were saying. They were just upset that someone else had been chosen before them.

“I really hope you all find a family,” Virgil said. There was no malice behind what he said. He meant every word. He did want them all to get parents, no matter how much they had bullied him, they didn’t deserve to feel so abandoned.

“Whatever,” Bobby said. “Get out of here.”

Virgil nodded and headed towards the front door but stopped when he heard a voice speak up, “And Virgil?”

He turned back to Bobby. “Yes?”

“I hope we don’t see you back in this place ever again.”

“I hope so, too,” Virgil replied.


Diane was on the front steps with Logan and Patton when Virgil exited the building. “Hi,” he said shyly as he approached the three adults.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton beamed, he restrained himself from giving Virgil a hug. “All packed up?”

“Uh, yeah,” Virgil said, holding up his bag.

“I’ll take that, Virgil,” Logan said. “We’ll let you say farewell.”

After taking Virgil’s bag and saying goodbye to Diane, the two men wandered down the stairs to their car and loaded Virgil’s things inside.

Diane turned to Virgil with a smile. “This is it,” she said. “Are you excited?”

“S-Sure,” Virgil replied, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Virgil?” Diane frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Normally getting Virgil to open up could be more difficult than pulling out teeth but perhaps it was the urgency of the situation that made him lift his head and admit what was worrying him.

“What if they send me back?”

Diane’s smile faltered as she placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, grateful when he didn’t recoil away from her like he had when he had first arrived into her care. “They wouldn’t do that, Virgil,” she said. “They can’t just do that.”

“But what if they do?” Virgil insisted. “What if they don’t like me? Or what if….what if they’re like my parents?”

Diane sighed, bending down to his level. “I know you don’t believe this,” she said, “but you are a very likeable kid. Patton and Logan already think you’re great, I’m quite positive that Patton decided on you the minute he met you so they won’t just want to send you back. As for them being like your parents, I can assure you that there is no way we would send you to anyone that isn’t going to love and care for you the way you deserve.”

“Okay,” Virgil mumbled, still unconvinced.

“Listen to me,” Diane said. “I want you to remember something.”

“What?”

“It’s okay to feel nervous,” she said. “In fact, it’s normal. You’re going into a new environment, you’re worried and that is okay, but I swear that you’re safe. Patton and Logan are your guardians now, and it’s their job to protect you and we’ve made sure that’s exactly what they’ll do. So don’t be afraid to ask for help if you ever need it.”

“I’m scared,” Virgil said.

“I would be amazed if you weren’t,” Diane said.

When she held out her arms for a hug, Virgil hesitated for only a moment before he responded, wrapping his arms around her neck. “Thank you,” he said, “for everything.”

There were no words to truly show his appreciation for the first adult that had ever shown him any sort of love.

“You take care, Virgil,” she said once they pulled away from each other. “Good luck, not that you will need it. You’re going to be fine.”

A tiny jerk of Virgil’s head was the only indication he had taken in anything she had said and with a final wave, he trailed down to the car.

“All set?” Patton asked him.

“Yes.”

“Then hop in.”

Virgil climbed into the backseat of the car, turning to take one last glance at the building that had been his home for the past few months. “Belt on, kiddio,” Patton commented as Logan started the car and pulled away from the curb.

Virgil clipped his seatbelt into place, watching as Diane and the orphanage got smaller the further they drove. “What do I call you?” he asked, finally tearing his gaze away and facing forward. “Do I have to call you Dad or-?” he faded off into silence.

Logan glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Whatever makes you the most comfortable, Virgil,” he answered. “You can call us that, or you can just call us Logan and Patton. There’s no pressure.”

“Okay,” Virgil let out a small sigh of relief. “Cool,” he said, sinking back against the seat when another thought occurred to him. “Hey, what’s your last name?” he enquired. “I mean, it’s mine now, too so I just wondered what it is. That is, if you want me to have it, but i suppose you would if you’ve adopted me-”

“It’s Sanders,” Patton cut over Virgil’s rambling with a chuckle. “Our - Your surname is Sanders.”

“Oh,” Virgil replied.

Huh.

“Oh?” Logan questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Patton turned around to face Virgil. “What do you think, kiddo?”

“Not bad,” Virgil admitted, “I like it.”  He gave Patton a tiny smile which was immediately returned.

“Good,” Patton said and Virgil saw Logan reach over and squeeze his husband’s hand for a minute.

Virgil felt his smile grow wider as he took to staring out the window, watching the world go by.

Virgil Sanders.

He could get used to that.

Harry Potter Fic Recs

So I heard a call a while back for good Harry Potter fic, which is…kind of murderously difficult to find due to the sheer volume involved.  I can’t say I’ve made any significant dent in searching for the stuff, because it’s fucking exhausting, but I do have some favorites that I cherish dearly. And being an extremely picky reader, hopefully this list will be helpful to others as well.

So. Fic recs.  Yes.

Anything, anything at all, by @copperbadge; he hasn’t been in the fandom for years, but his oldies are definitely goodies.  Stealing Harry is something of a fandom classic and really good for comfort reading, starting as it does on the happy ending and moving from there.  My personal favorite is Cartographer’s Craft, however, which is just full of wonderful things.

Anything, literally anything, by @lullabyknellart.  She has multiple long, chaptered fics in progress, and while it takes a while for her to update when she does it is glorious.  Personal favorites include face death in the hope (time-travel, Regulus Black, and emotional-disaster Harry), and into the arena with your head held high (Harry and genderfluid godkid Teddy time-travel from apocalyptic future to non-apocalyptic past and proceed to fuck shit up).

@deadcatwithaflamethrower, because she is the bomb, delightfully prolific, and produces moving, emotionally and intelluctually rich fic while making it look easy, what the fuck woman.  She also has a “I will take a hammer and fix the canon” approach to just about anything while managing to make it all jive with the original.  Current works in the fandom are Swung By Serafim (complete, gorgeous, with the book-length epilogue that we all deserved) and work-in-progress Of a Linear Circle, which is a beautiful romance and also chock full of interesting medieval facts and “hammer to canon” fixits.

@waspabi has two excellent fics (I have not read the third because it’s rpf, but go check it if that’s your thing) in the fandom: Hermione Granger’s Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run, which is exactly as amazing as it sounds (” ‘You’re a wizard, Harry’ is easier to hear from a half-giant when you’re eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you’re seventeen and late for work ”); and Stately Homes of Wiltshire, a post-canon fic where Harry is an Auror and, as anyone else could see coming, Hates His Job (but won’t admit it).  Also there are poltergeists.  Both are Drarry fics, but even if that’s not your thing I’d give it a go because @waspabi‘s Draco is unlike anyone else’s Draco, ever, and has rendered me nearly incapable of enjoying any other Draco because no one else’s can compare.

Aeturnum’s Leo Inter Serpentes series, which is just…so excellent.  Rewrite of the whole series with Harry being in Slytherin, because Draco is significantly less of a dick.  Narcissa is bomb-ass and divorces Lucius and Hermione is amazing and Snape adopts Harry and is a Good Dad, I cried okay, I cried.  Everyone is so in character and it’s so well done and just.  I inhaled the whole thing in two days, it was terrible.  Only other Drarry I will ever accept.

@ink-splotch (dirgewithoutmusic)’s boy with a scar series.  It’s a collection of stories, mostly au’s, including “Neville/Ron/Hermione are the Boy/Girl-who-lived”, Girl!Harry (once dfab, once trans), “what if Snape made up with Lily”, and many, many more.  All are absolute gems, seriously, beautiful fucking writing, will kill you with so many feels.  So. Many.  Read them all.  You will cry.  You will be happy about it.

esama is an excellent author and writes many, many things, not all of which are everyone’s cup of tea, but each fic is unique unto itself so keep that in mind when scrolling their work.  Just because you don’t like one doesn’t mean you won’t love another.  My personal favorites include D.S.S. Requirement (the Room of Requirement provides a spaceship.  No, really), Undone Wars (excellent crossover with Stargate Atlantis), and Mother May I, a Fantastic Beasts fic in which Newt recognizes Credence as an Obscurial on sight and basically adopts/kidnaps all the Barebone children immediately and forever.

And no Harry Potter fic rec from me would be complete without metisket’s side-splittingly funny There May Be Some Collateral Damage.  It’s a crossover with Bleach, but no knowledge of Bleach is required to thoroughly enjoy this ridiculous piece of perfection.  Seriously, I went into knowing that Bleach existed and what the main character looked like.  Basically, Voldemort is deemed a grim reaper’s problem, Harry Potter becomes designated bait, and chosen for his bodyguard is the most reasonable maniac you will ever meet.  Ichigo crashes through Hogwarts like a wrecking ball, everyone either hates or loves him (or in Harry’s case both), the twin’s perspective is entirely written in the plural and you will laugh every other sentence, I guarantee.  Hate prophecies? Hate Umbridge? Need cheering up?  Want to stab Voldemort with a dinner knife?  This is the fic for you.

David isn't perfect: a PSA

Okay. So after the latest episode (That’s S02E07, ‘Bonjour Bonquisha’) I’ve been seeing a ton of people saying “That was ooc! David would never do that!”

I love David. I love him as much as the next fan, maybe more than is strictly necessary, and I love his flaws, too, and I’m here to tell you
Yes he absolutely would.

And the only way I can think of is to list, under the cut, every point of evidence for why I completely think David would punch someone, along with general flaws that people seem to be more than happy to overlook.

We’re going episode by episode folks and it’s gonna get long but I’ve been awake since 4 am and nothing’s gonna hold me back

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