#as a fucking library clerk. get fucked. i win.

[earth-wyrms]

I got hired at the library today.

[reiderwriter]

🫂 Transference 🫂

Pairing: Spencer Reid x virgin!Fem Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: He saves your life, and he keeps saving it every day, but Spencer won't let you love him until you finally beg him to. Is transference really that much of an issue?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Mentions of Case details - reader is the unsub victim, mentions of rape and attempted rape, gunshot, death, kidnapping, imprisonment, parental neglect, abandonment, loss of virginity (positive), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), missionary, praise kink (good girl), moaning kink (?), safe sex, slight cum play/ oral, aftercare.

A/N: I wrote a virgin reader fic for kinktober that people loved a lot (thank you all!), and I had a lot of requests for something similar, so please - enjoy!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You'd met him at the library, as if the world wanted you to forever associate the comfort you found in between the pages of a worn book with the man that tried to end your life. At first, you'd thought it a coincidence, then he'd flashed a smile at you, and you'd believed it to be fate, drawn in by the charm he wore as a disguise. 

Your first date was sweet, flowers and dinner. Your second date was sweeter, and they kept on that way. Sugar dropped into your ears until you were floating on cloud nine, right as he turned his charm off. 

“Really?” He started one day, his tone accusing from the get-go. 

“What?” 

“You're really going to eye fuck that man in front of me?” His voice was loud enough to catch notice in the small café you'd joined him in for the morning, and all the life drained out of your face. 

“I'm not- what?”

“No, forget it,” he chuffed, taking another sip of his drink and turning away from you. 

You noticed it more and more from then on, how he would accuse you of small things like looking at other men, like you had the choice to ignore them when they were shop clerks, bus drivers and just fucking people living their lives. 

Your friends were even weirded out when you joked with them about it, telling them all about your silly boyfriend who ripped a poster off your wall because it had some actor or singer or something on it. It wasn't even that important to you, but as you laughed, you were greeted with silence, with sideways glances and concerning questions. 

It was all starting to crumble, and there was nothing you could do to stop it but cling on. 

The next thing was his pushiness. You'd been up front with him at the beginning of the relationship that you were a virgin, something that he was more than happy about. 

He'd said it was because he was a man of God, and he understood your commitment, which confused you as you weren't a virgin for religious reasons. But you brushed it off as everything else about him was so… gentlemanly? 

Until he started pushing his hands up your thighs when he kissed you. He tried multiple times to push his fingers into your underwear as you tried to pull back, each time apologizing immediately when you displayed more panicked displeasure. 

“I'm sorry, something must have… The devil got to me for a second there, Y/N, but I won't let him win.” He kissed the top of your head, and he walked you to your door before giving you another chaste kiss and leaving. 

They found the first body the next morning.

She was young, maybe 16 or 17. Beaten, raped, mutilated, and asphyxiated. They said he'd kept raping her body long after she'd taken her last breath. It took them two weeks to notify her parents because of the way he'd left her. 

You'd watched the news report the same week with your boyfriend, shocked and horrified at the news and cuddling closer to him for comfort. 

Each step you came closer to him, each time you allowed him to touch you, he took it as a sign of his ownership, his claim on you. Not a single other person could get in between him and his prize. Each time you rejected him, he killed another girl. 

By body five, they'd called in the BAU. 

“Did you hear they're bringing in the FBI to solve that Cathy Renaud case? It's all over the news. Apparently, the team is super special.” 

You'd brought up the words while cooking him breakfast. He didn't live with you, but any good girlfriend would feed their man, so he woke you up every day on his way to work to let you prepare him something. 

His whole attention was on his phone, though, as he nodded through your conversation, grunting and moaning at each word. 

It was only when you brought him his plate of pancakes that you realized that he was just as interested in the subject as you were. Because he was staring at the photos of the girl he mutilated the night before. 

You didn't want to think about everything that happened after that. After the plate fell to the floor and cracked, splintering into your foot and causing you your first injury in a long line. 

You didn't want to think about the things he showed you, the way he touched you, or at least tried to. You heaved and wretched and emptied your stomach every single time you thought about the restraints on your wrists, how he'd tried to rape you but couldn't bring himself to do it because you weren't young enough anymore. You weren't dead enough.  

Instead, every time you thought back to that week, you found yourself back at the end. You replayed the bullet lodging into his brain as a comfort, which told you more than you needed to know about your mental state. It was Spencer Reid who'd shot him. He'd been quick enough to realize that the man would never have been talked down, and he'd fired the shot as a mercy to you. He may have killed your boyfriend, putting him down like he was a sick animal, but you were the one put out of your misery. 

He didn't stop to watch the body hit the floor before falling to your side, the other agents clearing the room and checking the corpse. He'd helped you to your feet, drawn an arm around your waist and pushed your head into his chest so you didn't have to see the carnage on the way out, didn't have to deal with the camera flashes as the press scrambled for pictures of the monster's willing victim. 

“One step at a time, this isn't your fault. Just stick with me,” he said, moving you from the house to a waiting van as you clasped his vest desperately, needing the lifeline he'd thrown you. 

“Ma'am, ma'am. I'm a paramedic, I won't hurt you, I just need to take your vitals, make sure you're okay.” 

The voice was vague and in the distance, and you were so sure it wasn't directed at you that you simply let yourself wrap around the man who'd saved you when you got to the ambulance. Nothing else was around but his chest, his hand on your back, your legs wrapped around him as they finally gave out. 

“Ma'am… Please, you're injured-” 

“Y/N,” he spoke finally, and you grabbed him tighter, nails digging into the skin at his neck. 

“You're Y/N, right? We've been looking for you for a long time. I'm not going anywhere, I won't let anyone hurt you.” 

The words were enough to reassure you, pulling back slightly as the paramedics began working on you, but not enough for you to embrace their touch. You clambered away from the paramedic the moment you saw he was a man, close in build and coloring to the corpse in the building behind you. 

You screamed, you cried, you pounded at the doors as Spencer held to you him, letting the paramedics sedate you, rocking you to sleep on the step of the emergency vehicle.

He was by your bedside every time you woke up, too. It was funny seeing him there when you still didn't know his name. Your parents hadn't visited, too ashamed to be associated with the entire thing to even check in on you. 

He had himself assigned your emergency contact after six days of your parents not showing up. In all that time, he'd sat patiently by your side as you wailed and raged and went numb, and the cycle repeated itself in perpetuity. 

He was there, too, with a bag of clothes and a fresh start waiting for you when you were ready to be discharged. 

His team had since moved on to another criminal of the week, putting the lives lost behind them as they traipsed through more cases and corpses and killers. He was still there, though. Somehow. 

You were old enough to be able to discharge yourself from a hospital, old enough to not need a guardian to take care of you. Spencer stayed anyway, and you didn't bother asking why. 

“I don't want to leave the hospital,” you said, climbing back into the bed you'd forced yourself into for the last week. The same bed where the nurse had ran your rape kit even after you'd told her he'd never touched you like that, after you'd explained and denied and shouted to high hell that no-one had touched you like that and she sure as hell wasn't going to be the first. 

Spencer had put a stop to the traumatic experience when he'd returned with your coffee, always picking up something for you when he went out. 

The nurse had gripped and moaned and murmured an apology, and you knew you'd not been an easy patient, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel bad about it. 

That didn't mean you wanted to leave yet, though. 

“I can't leave, I have nowhere to live.”

“Y/N, you can't stay here forever.”

“Spencer, I can't go home. My apartment is a crime scene, I almost died there, and there are reporters posted there 247 waiting for me to come back. They think I'm evil, they-” 

“They think you're a victim,” he said calmly but firmly, cutting you off before you could spiral again. “Which you are. And you'll be a victim forever if you don't get out of that hospital bed and start moving on.” 

He dumped a bag on your bed, a bag you recognised as one of your own overnight bags from your apartment. He looked at you again, the question in his silence. 

Are you going to keep being his victim?

You huffed as you got out of your bed, throwing off the covers and standing in front of him. He didn't budge. 

“Well?” You asked, looking at him as he stood still, not moving even an inch. 

“Well, what?” He replied, eyebrows knitting. 

Instead of replying, you rolled your eyes and reached behind you to the ties in your hospital gown, opening it until you could pull it off your body before pulling out the clothes he'd left in the bag. 

You didn't glance at him again until you were fully naked, readying your underwear so you could pull it on. When you turned back to him, his gaze knocked the wind out of you. 

You'd stopped feeling like a woman the minute he'd carried out of that room. You were a child, a fragile doll, a specimen to be studied. For some of the nurses, you were an infection they could catch. 

Spencer Reid, against his better judgment, was looking at you like you were a woman. Like you were the object of his every desire. 

“S-Spencer…” you said suddenly feeling the shame and embarrassment of being naked suddenly in front of another person. You pulled the sweatshirt he'd packed you over your torso, covering all of your intimate areas as you stammered out your apology. 

“I- shit, I'm sorry-”

“I'll wait - I’ll wait outside. If you need anything you can… you can do whatever.” He said, dragging his eyes off of your body and letting them fall anywhere that you weren't. His eyes darted from the floor to the wall, to the air next to your head and finally to the door where he took himself out. 

You dressed in a hurry and followed him. 

“Spencer? Spencer, I'm ready,” you said, running down the hall to him and grabbing his arm, holding it for support and comfort, but mostly just to be close. 

Since waking up from that first sedation of many in those first few days, you hadn't been more than a few hours without having him hold you. 

His team had sent many warning looks watching you wrapped around him like a scared child, hiding behind him like a small, shaking dog. You hadn't seen a problem in it, truly clinging to him like a lifeline. 

After whatever the hell had just happened in your hospital room, though? Now you felt each solid ridge of him. You hadn't felt like a woman, sure  but you equally hadn't acknowledged Spencer as a man until then. A very attractive man. 

The stubble on his jaw only made it sharper. His gentle, curving eyes, cut at the corners by the start of laugh lines, his mouth straight and… and kissable. For the first time in months, definitely for the first time since you'd met your monster, maybe even for the first time ever, desire heated the depths of your stomach. 

Your breath hitched, and you held him tighter as he led you out of the ward and ushered you into your new life. 

“We're not going to your apartment. Your landlord released you from the lease for…obvious reasons after some persuading. Your parents-” 

“My parents?” You asked in disgusting, halting in the hall. For the first time since you'd left the room, he had to turn and look you in the eyes. He'd done his best to dampen the desire, but some part of you still recognised it, even as your logical brain fought to be heard. 

“Your parents agreed to fund three months in a new apartment. After which time, you will have a job and some stability, so you'll be able to pay for it yourself.”

You tried to argue and tried to talk back, but your tongue was thick. 

A new apartment. Living alone, being alone, for any amount of time, felt daunting. 

But Spencer took one more step towards the door and then another, and you had no choice but to walk with him, hand slipping down and grasping his like it was your lifeline. 

The drive to whatever new apartment your parents had leased for you was silent, and the storms in your head grew until they'd taken up so much space they erupted forth, darkening the actual skies. A crash of thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance just as he pulled into the building. Luckily for you, there was underground parking, so you didn't even need to contemplate letting the lightning hit you. 

There was one space left, and Spencer pulled his car in, flipping the engine off and getting out without another word. 

He led you up the stairs, then he led you to your floor, then he led you to your door and handed you the keys. 

You felt cold as you opened the doors, knowing you were about to confront items of boxes that had watched you be burned, cut, slapped, beaten.

There were no boxes behind the door. Everything had, to your shock, been unboxed and staged already. 

You recognised magnets on the fridge, stuffed animals on the bed when you made your way to your bedroom. Your toiletries were neatly tidied into your medicine cabinet, hell, even your bookshelves had your own dog-eared copies of books well past their prime. 

You had every comfort and joy without having to push yourself through the pain of thinking about where these items had last been kept. 

There were new things too. The couch was definitely second-hand, but it wasn't the one you'd brought at Goodwill the week after your college graduation. That one was stained red, no doubt, somewhere in a tip. There was bedding and sheets and blankets and plates and forks and knives - a whole household of items that someone had chosen. 

You turned back to Spencer and cried. You buried your face in his chest and wrapped yourself around him again as he held you. 

And then, realizing he'd been the one to orchestrate this, if not the one who had arranged everything himself, you pushed up on the balls of your feet, and you kissed him. 

For the few seconds it lasted, it was brilliance. The pressure on your lips after a second had your heart singing as he kissed you back, your hands balling into his shirt as you stepped closer and closer, needing to be wrapped around him, buried in safety and warmth. 

He pulled back and stepped out of your reach too quickly, the back of his hand reaching up to his mouth as if checking that it was still there, that he'd actually just been kissing you back. 

“Y/N, you don't…we can't do that.” 

“Do what?” You said, creeping forward, needing to feel him beside you again. 

“You're not… you don't feel about me the way you think you feel about me,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear as you wrapped your arms around his waist again. 

“How do I feel?” 

“Grateful. Y/N, this is gratitude. I saved you, and so you think you are in love with me. It's called transference, and you will deeply, deeply regret this one day.” 

The urgency in his tone had you flinching, even if he was trying to talk to you as softly as possible. For a moment, you'd done as he'd asked and forgotten you were a victim. It was apparently something he himself would not forget anytime soon.

You stood around awkwardly for another minute or two. 

“What…what now?” You asked, avoiding the kiss and whatever lay in that direction.

“I'll walk you through the emergency contact numbers. The apartment building is pretty old, so there's a wall phone in the kitchen, but there are some modern amenities, too. The laundry room is on the first floor, next to the porters office. I'm in apartment 23 on the second floor, and-” 

“What?” Your entire body buzzed, hearing him speak, and you almost forgot to breathe, rushing to stand straight again.

“I… I live on the floor below,” he said, almost cautiously now that you'd thrown yourself at him. “I thought you might enjoy the company.”

He gave you a weak smile and you wanted to kiss him all over again, to press your lips again and again into the soft flesh of his skin, his lips, his nose, his cheeks, his neck, his chest. 

You wanted him to hold you. You stood by the sofa and let your grip on a cushion tighten to stop from throwing yourself at him again. One rejection was enough for the day. 

Not that you stopped in the weeks to come. 

Spencer had himself relegated to office work for the first month as you rode out the waves of your grief, sticking by his side for comfort.

Your friends came and went, but they wore the stench of ‘I told you so’ and ‘I saw that coming,’ and you suffocated on it after so long. 

Every day after he returned home, you arrived at him door and threw yourself into his open arms, sitting with him for hours. Most days, you read together, ignoring that the man flipped pages three times as fast as you did. Some nights, you watched shows or movies, making your way through three companions worth of “New Who” in a week.

Each time you came, he took care of your food, ordering or cooking simple pasta dishes for you. 

He told you about the time his coworker had taught him how to make the perfect pasta, berating him for putting oil in his pasta water, and damn near drawing his weapon while he made sure he salted it. 

You laughed together and ate together, and you forgot together. 

Your life was back to normal when you got your first job interview. It's nothing spectacular, but it was enough that it would pay the bills to the apartment whose lease is a ticking bomb counting down to 0. It was a normal office, where you would be doing normal work that you had absolutely done before. 

The interview was normal, the female employee that meets you first reassuring you that the company is safe, their employees vetted and supported. 

And the company makes feminine hygiene products anyway, so they don't attract too many men, or at least none like the monster you'd known. 

All in all, the interview went well. 

It went well all the way until you reached the bus stop. You felt eyes on you, watching your movements, but you couldn't see anyone else focusing on you particularly.

You felt the stares on the bus, and the stares when you got off the bus two stops early. You felt the stares walking around the block three times to throw whatever was following you around off your track. You felt the stares as you sat outside Spencer's apartment until 6:45pm, when he came home and found you there. Your interview had been at 1pm.

“Y/N, what's wrong?” He said, immediately holding you and guiding you into the apartment. 

Your anxiety and fear had settled into self-loathing and disappointment. You let him hold you quietly, rejecting food and conversation. 

You sat quietly with him on his sofa as he held a book in one hand, stroking your hair with another as you laid on his chest. 

The emotions of the day were overwhelming, consuming the part of your brain that had started being happy again for the first time. You grew angry at the sadness for seeping back in, and in an act of rebellion, you pushed back up and kissed Spencer once more. 

His brain was slower to react this time, even if his body wasn't. 

You straddled his hips as your lips joined his, melting together in a hot embrace. He dropped his book quickly, hand resting on your hip as the one that had been stroking your hair angled your jaw up so he could set the pace. 

All your emotions were swept away in a wave of desire as you slowly rubbed against him, butt shifting as you clumsily followed your arousal past your worldly knowledge. 

You couldn't even think about what was next because your tongue was clashing with Spencer's, and your brain was short circuiting. 

The second you let out your first whimper of pleasure, he pushed you away and stood up, crossing the room to put distance between you, just as he had a month beforr. 

“Y/N, you had a bad day, but this isn't… This isn't how you should make yourself feel better.” 

“Spencer-” 

“I told you about transference before, Y/N, you need to listen to me. I'm not… I'm not the one for you.” His voice shook as he ran his hands through his hair in stress, body tense in a way that informed you he was holding himself back. 

“Transference. Transference…” You sat upright on his couch and let all the logic rush back into your brain at once. 

“Y/N?” He asked, voice shaking as he watched you zone out of the conversation, almost afraid that he'd damaged you again. 

“Is there… Is there something wrong with transference?” You asked, voice impossibly calm as you still stared straight forward. 

He moved towards you again and knelt at the floor in front of you, clutching your hands in his. 

“Y/N, you don't really want me like that, you don't, you can't-”

“Love you?” You asked, your voice finally breaking, eyes finally meeting his.

It was as if you knocked the wind out of him. He sat there completely dumbstruck. 

“It might not be love, okay, I'll admit that. But you're… you're strong and smart, and you take care of me. And you're attractive, and you make me happy, which is something I didn't think I'd ever be again-” 

“Y/N, something happened to you today, and you threw yourself at me. You threw yourself at me when you moved into your apartment. You felt stressed, and you reacted, Y/N. You don't love me.”

You sat calmly listening to his words again, your body still aching for his touch, your heart still pounding in your chest. 

“Okay. Okay. So if I do…this when I'm not feeling vulnerable, then what? Then you'll believe me?” 

“Y/N…” he sighed in defeat, hand again raking through his hair. 

You grabbed your things and stood up off the couch, bending to press another kiss to his lips before you parted. 

He was shocked silent, but that didn't stop him from chasing your lips as you rose, rising to his knees and then his feet as you walked away from him.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Spencer. Get some sleep,” you said, letting yourself out or the apartment and carrying yourself, heavy and dejected, upstairs. 

If Spencer was anticipating seeing you again the next morning, he wasn't anticipating seeing you in his office.

“Spencer,” you called out as you walked into the bullpen, clipping your visitors badge into place again, making sure it wasn't crooked.

Immediately, he stood from his desk and rose to meet you, ignoring the looks from his coworkers as his hands landed on your arms, immediately checking on you. 

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He whispered, checking for tears, or injuries, or something to show him your motive for seeking him out. 

You just smiled at him, brushing a hair behind your ear when you saw him hesitate making that same gesture. 

“I was summoned. They need my statement to corroborate your weapon discharge paperwork, and Agent Hotchner called earlier.” 

His hands dropped as he breathed a steady sigh of relief, trying to make his reaction smaller than he knew it was. He was afraid something had happened to you again, and he was so caught up in his relief, that he didn't notice you moving closer until your lips were on his cheek and you were waving him off as you ascended the stairs to Hotch's office with your escort. 

“Spencer,” Morgan's voice called from behind him, and he turned hesitantly. 

“What was that?” 

He felt the eyes on him, and he pushed all thoughts of you to the side in place of total rationality. 

“I explained transference to her but… she doesn't seem to - she doesn't care.” 

“Spencer the last time I saw that girl, she was practically the walking dead. She just smiled.” Morgan said, shaking his head. But Spencer was watching you, and not his friend, and really, he wasn't even listening.

“Spencer? Spencer?” Morgan said again, rising to get in the man's face some more until he finally looked at him again. 

“She thinks she's in love with me.” 

“How do you know she isn't?” 

You kept working on him, little by little, day by day, until Spencer's field work started again. 

A little part of you was sad that he wouldn't always be around every day anymore. But you'd got that job and got over yourself as you started going out more. You made friends at your office, and you went out and laughed and joked with old college roommates. You felt like a human being again, and to no one's surprise, you still wanted Spencer Reid. 

He left every Monday on a case, and by the time Wednesday rolled around, you missed him. Going out to drinks with some coworkers after clocking off certainly didn't sate your appetite for him. 

“Spencer,” you said, breathily into the phone when he picked up, throwing yourself onto your bed. 

“Y/N, what happened? Is everything alright? Do you need me to come back?”

“No, Spencer, I just-” you hiccupped and giggled before continuing. “I just missed you so much.” 

The silence on the line was suddenly so funny to you, and you giggled again. Feeling hot, you stripped down to your underwear and started talking again. 

“I miss cuddling up to you and crawling all over you. You're really soft, you know?” You sighed, hands trailing up and down your stomach lightly. 

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone. 

“I miss your face. I'm switching to video call,” you announced and fumbled with your phone. 

“No, Y/N, wait-” he said, but pulling the phone away from his ears, he realized his protests were too late to matter as he took in your half-naked form. 

Though your face took up the majority of the view on the camera, he could see the soft trim of your lace bra poking into the camera, and the generous push of cleavage your angle facilitated to boot. 

Checking around him for people looking, he tucked himself into a corner and scowled back at you. 

“Y/N, this isn't a game. Turn the call off and go to bed.” 

“But I miss you,” you whined. 

“Y/N,” he hissed, eyes falling to your hands where you'd begun massaging your heavy breasts. 

“When are you coming home?” You asked, whining again like a petulant child as the alcohol flushed through your system, bringing all of your desires to the forefront. 

“Soon,” he said, not trusting himself to say more than a word. 

“Good. Because I miss you. Spencer, I- I think I want to have sex with you.” 

His eyes shut as he tried to remain calm even as your words rang in his ears from 1000 miles away.

“We'll talk soon, Y/N. Good night,” he closed, finally hanging up and covering his face in his hands. He made his way quickly to his motel room, threw his phone down on his bed, and ignored as best he could his throbbing cock in his pants and the three pictures you'd sent him since he hung up. 

He didn't resist for long. 

Three nights later, you found yourself at a bar, living life to the fullest. You'd taken back to society like a swan to water, and you weren't letting the stern words of Spencer Reid keep you down. Knocking back another shot, you smiled and cheered with your friends until you felt the eyes on you again. It was different this time, though, hotter, and closer. You turned to look at the door and saw Spencer Reid and the other people who'd saved your life walking to a booth. It was Spencer's eyes on you. 

You definitely did not believe in a higher power - how could you, after all - but you did believe that this was fate. 

You blew him a kiss as he watched you walk back to your table with another cocktail in hand, letting a man who'd been trying to flirt with you earlier follow you to your friends. 

When you went for your next drink, you found him at your side in a heartbeat. 

“I'm not checking up on you,” he said, even though he was. “I'm ordering a drink.” 

“Two drinks,” you said, shooting him a flirty smile as you pressed yourself against him again, chest to chest. 

“You're ordering two drinks, Spencer,” you whispered into his ears as his head dropped down to within an inch of your own. The air felt changed, but you refused to move to close the gap. You'd put in the work the last few times. You needed Spencer to be the one to take the chance this time. 

He ordered your drinks, and still you didn't move apart, huddled together as if you were whispering conspiracies to one another. 

When your drink was firmly in your hand, he grabbed your wrist and led you to a dark corner of the bar. You sipped your drink quickly, managing two swigs before he took it and placed both drinks down - right beside Penelope Garcia - and dragged you out into the hall. 

The bathrooms were empty when he pushed you inside, and your heart throbbed as his hands pushed you into a stall, lifted your legs to wrap around him, and then his lips finally crashed into yours. 

Transference or whatever else it was supposed to be, you didn't give one shit in that moment as his tongue coaxed your lips apart.

His hands didn't stay in place for long as he dragged them up and down your body, exploring every part he'd memorized from the pictures. Every curve or inch he'd previously held tenderly, gently, he now raked over with the hunger of arousal, pushing your short skirt up until it was past your hips and his fingers could sink into you instead. 

You were soaked before he even had one digit inside you, his thumb rubbing roughly against your clit as you turned to jelly in his hands. 

You'd masturbated before, sure, you were a grown woman. But the feeling of someone else's hands, someone else's hest, the knowledge that someone else desired you so badly that they'd drag you into a bar bathroom just to sate their lust? That was new, and it was exciting. 

His lips covered yours as your legs shook, silencing every moan, every whimper with his tongue. It was wild, messy, your tongues clashing wildly and messily as your hips rocked violently, trying to reach that high, but also trying to make this last past his fingers. 

It wasn't to be though as you shuddered around his three digits, your orgasm ripping through you silently, leaving you wide-eyed and wide mouthed. 

“We're done,” he said, gently kissing your cheek as be stood you up, letting you stretch out the soreness in your muscles. 

“For now?” 

“Forever, Y/N. This was a mistake.”

Your heart hit the ground, and he stomped on it, but the anger filling your gut pushed up and out before he could completely bow out. 

“No,” you ground out through gritted teeth. 

“Y/N, you aren't in love with me. You feel grateful that I saved you, you feel attracted to me because I'm older and you think I can protect you, and a little part of it is that you've always been attracted to men who are dangerous. You're not in love with me, so-” 

“You sound like him.”

Shocked, he paused, and his grip on your hips tightened until his nails were biting into your skin. 

“What?” 

“You're telling me how to feel, you're telling me what to do. You sound like him.” 

“Y/N, that is unfair-” 

“Unfair is denying that I'd know how I'm fucking feeling to let you wallow in self sacrifice, Spencer. Unfair is playing the martyr when we can both see that you want this as fucking badly as I do.” 

You didn't give him a second longer to react, but grabbed him by the wrist and, making sure your skirt was once again in place, pulled him back out of the bathroom and into the club. 

Stopping by Penelope, you put his drink in his hand and grabbed yours, downing it quickly. He followed your actions, taking a sip until you were done and slamming your drink back on the table. 

Then you kept him moving, pushing doors open, hailing a cab, and climbing in with him hot on your heels.

You kept your grip on him tight until you'd marched him to his apartment. Releasing him, you flattened your back against his door, letting him slowly unlock the door as you spoke to him again finally.

“Do it, Spencer. Be my first.” 

It was like he was a different man walking over that threshold. His hand were on your face, his tongue again fighting yours as you stumbled back into the apartment, crashing into the wall, then the coffee table, and then the couch. 

You cursed in anger hitting his closed bedroom door and pushed him away to open it yourself, but his arms wrapped around you from the back and he sucked bruises against your neck as his hands grabbed your breasts and squeezed them.

His cock was rigid in his pants, and your body ached for the unknown, the soon to come pleasure that he was to deliver. 

He pushed you down onto the bed quickly, and you rolled yourself over, pulling your own dress off as quickly as possible. 

“That's my job,” he moaned, meeting your lips again as his hands fell to your underwear once again. 

“You have a long to-do list, Spencer, I'm just helping,” you smirked as he kissed you again, your hands shakily working down each button of his shirt as you acted to tear it off of him. 

“We have all night,” he replied, fingers once again rubbing at your bundle of nerves, hips pushing up and into his hands. 

“No, Spencer. No, we don't. I need you now.” 

His mouth covered yours again as you finally, finally got his shirt off, letting him throw it to the floor as you started working on his belt. Your legs spread as he inched closer, sitting between your thighs comfortably as he waited with bated breath for you to finally touch his cock.  

You knew what dicks looked like, you knew what they were supposed to feel like, but you never realised you'd want to touch one so fucking badly until his sprung from his pants. 

He took your hand and spit in it before you wrapped your fingers around him and felt the heat of his cock pulsing against you. 

He was big, long more than girthy, and you wondered how thousands of years of women had managed to survive coupling if this was the weapon meant to numb them into horny submission. 

One stroke, and you were a mess, his fingers hooking into you as you flicked your wrist up and down. 

You watched his precum rise and swiped it up in one finger, tasting it as he groaned and started thrusting up, fucking your hand as he scissored his fingers inside of you. 

He stretched you out, readying you for his thick cock, and you gladly sat there, letting him use you and ready you all at once. 

When you were ready, he wrapped his arms around you again, lifting you onto the bed properly and laying you down softly in the sheets. Kneeling to roll on the condom he'd grabbed from his bedside table, you watched in curiosity as you tried to memorize every movement, every second of him sinking into you. 

The tears in your eyes were emotion just as much as pain, your heart hammering in your ears as he whispered praise into your ear, dropping confessions like bombs. 

“You're taking me so well, Y/N, that's good…” he moaned, pushing in one inch. 

“That's it, Y/N, just a little more. I love you, you can do it,” he said, sinking in two more. 

“You feel so good, Y/N, made just for me,” he said as he finally hit your limit. 

You knew the stretch wasn't the end, and he rested there for a second, letting you get used to him before you lost patience with him. 

“Spencer just, just push through,” you grit out, and he did, snapping his hips up just that.inch or two more and sending that spark of pain through you. 

In an instant, his lips were on yours, his fingers on your clit, flooding your nerves with pleasure as all you could think of was the pain. 

But when the pain faded, there was still him, and his cock neatly sheathed inside of you. 

His hips moved languidly at first, his entire body weight pushing down on you, lazily twisting and writhing as of this were just one of your cuddles on the couch. 

You whimpered, and he moved faster, and you learnt quickly that your noises and sighs to him were what his praise was to you - motivation.

You moaned, and he picked up his pace, moving faster as you whimpered a lustful ‘yes’ into his ear. 

“Good girl, good girl, Y/N, that's it. Good girl,” he repeated, unable to say more as you whimpered and cried under him, speech lost as he split you in half with his dick.

You grew louder, and his cock buried itself deeper, your moans dragged on longer and he picked up speed. 

He whispered that you were his perfect little slut, and you jolted in his arms, cumming on his cock and screaming his name. 

He kept pumping into you, careful to make sure the condom stayed in place as he finally bottomed out and let pleasure roll through him again.

Coming down from his high, your tongue pushed into his mouth, and you rolled him over, sitting yp on his dick as he watched. 

You rose off his cock, letting him stare in wonder as your own arousal dripped off of your skin, his cock coated in arousal, and spit from his fingers and, yes, a little bit of blood. 

You crawled back and peeled off the condom, tying It quickly and discarding it before you tasted his cum quickly. 

It was just a soft lick, but it had him declaring his love for you again, and you decided that there were very few things you wouldn't do to hear those words. 

As delightful as your lips felt, though, he quickly bundled you up and forced you to the bathroom, turning on the taps in the bath and placing you on the toilet before leaving. 

Even now, after everything, he was still taking care of you. Maybe especially now. 

You finished, and he came back. More stolen kisses and moans and a bath that turned into more later, and you found yourself bundled into his spare clothes and wrapped in his arms on his couch again. 

He clicked play on another episode of Doctor Who (you'd finally reached Donna, and he was excitedly introducing you to the new character), and you finally looked up at him again.

“I love you,” you said again, loudly this time, with no fear. 

Though his training told him the response he should give, Spencer just looked down at you again and gave in to his heart. 

“I love you, too.” 

You fell asleep quickly after that, head resting over his heart, the sound of the steady beats lulling you to sleep. 

[thenatashapulleyuniverse]

thoughts on natasha pulley's new story "the eel singers"

these 30 pages have singlehandedly ripped me apart and live rent free in my head.

spoilers below

“They were an accidental sort of family. She had used to work for Mori, hired out by the local workhouse, but one day he just hadn't taken her back there and now she lived in their attic. She had said she was happy to adopt them both permanently, if they remained polite and quiet”

Going crazy. I love Six so much.

Thaniel scolding Six and Mori on the angel Gabriel and the virgin Mary. Mori saying “But do me a favor and run away if some demented stranger tries to come unto you with his holy spirit.” THANIEL MAKING A FIST AT HIM. IM DEAD

The second footnote...was this a reference to the titanic??? Is Mori going to be alive to witness that event???? BRO

“The light was honey-colored and full of home.”

brb gonna scream

DRUNK SIX!! AHHHHHHH

the WHAT CHART????

THE SIGNIFICANT THINGS THAT MIGHT HAPPEN TODAY CHART IS A THING. A REAL AND CANON THING.

The bombing making experiments...with icing...all of them doing this as a family…i want to tear myself into pieces

As this is pre-pepperharrow...angst! No communication whatsoever!! Thaniel still believes he isn’t enough for Mori!!! I’m going to throw myself into oblivion!!!!

“It didn't mean that he was in love only that he was being polite”

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP

“Thaniel [was] grateful when he could be for anything. He wasn’t, generally.” literally shut up you stupid hopeless man

The both of them close under the blankets….Thaniel doing anything to make Mori feel better...crying in the library rn

Why the angst natasha...literally what for...I mean I love it but I also just want to seem them happy

New thaniel lore dropped. He worked in service. (That adds on to: Gamekeeper’s son, worked at a locomotive’s factory as a ledger’s clerk, telegraphist home office, clerk at foreign office, music composer)

Six looking at all the adults around her laughing: weird.

For people being controlled by some other worldly being that eats memories, it’s very hospitable.

“Mori laughed, and Thaniel’s heart hurt…” listen this story had more laughs and smiles than watchmaker and pepperharrow combined.

WATCH ME NOT HAVE HYSTERICS LOOK

DO YOU FEEL IMMORTAL ALL THE TIME

There are some spots in the world where Mori’s clairvoyance just doesn’t work...what if...bedlam was also a place like that hm? Possible AU??

I like that Natasha remembered to include the thing about Mori’s accent.

“[Thaniel] always thought he was getting pretty good [at Japanese] but then someone told him about politics and all his brain would come up with was that he'd like octopuses”

LMAOOOOHJSAFJK

Okay so mori HAS a kimono with him.

Not the casual mention of Mori’s older brothers going to war. ;-;

WE GOT ONE KISS*

*forehead kiss

Not thaniel feeling ashamed and like a child and thinking mori is just doing this because he has to. Not the pain...what the fuck man

MORI STARTING A SNOWBALL FIGHT!!!

Six: I am absolutely...not going to do that

Me: smart girl. Intelligent. The biggest brain. How does it feel carrying all the brain cells in your family?

“All white people look a bit lunatic albino trollish so it's hard to tell when that's particularly the case”

Mori you get me. I agree

Thaniel, sleepwalking: wait go back...we forgot our shoes.

MORI AND THANIEL BUILDING A SNOWMAN* TOGETHER

*snow spider

Mori’s grandmother beheading one of her sisters in the name of honor...girlboss

Six jumping over the gate...girlboss

Six winning the card games...i love her so much

Mori and Thaniel fall asleep holding hands.

Okay hold on a second...hold on T-T

The caretaker in regards to Mori: We haven’t see one of you in--oh a thousand years...Since the saint came

Okay so you can NOT JUST DROP THIS ON ME. THIS IS PURE WATCHMAKER LORE WHAT DO YOU MEAN SINCE THE SAINT CAME?? JESUS CHRIST??? WHOOOOO

Six saving the day basically!!

“I went wrong, at the workhouse” “Six you seem exactly right to me”

Crying shaking

Once again I’m impressed at how seamlessly this story fits into the watchmaker timeline.

Now theory time!

So this “thing” that’s taking their memories was in the water and snow, not the eels or the people or the singing. It’s as old as the vikings, hence the song being super old english. We can assume the people it’s taking have probably been there for years?? Well they probably lived their normal life span, but they are being fed off from.

I think the “thing” is a spider-like creature living under the water. The water looked dead and deep with several things in it that show that people and animals drowned under it. And the spider shape is explained by the snowman mori and thaniel made.

There are other spots in the world Mori mentioned, but do they also work like the Fens? Russia, the himalayas, these are notoriously cold places, just like the fens. So a thing that can shut off Mori’s clairvoyance is related to cold places

This brings me to my Bedlam crossover AU, where Thaniel and Mori take up Merrick’s offer to join him in Bedlam, only to discover that Mori’s clairvoyance is shut off. But not in the eel singers fashion, more like on and off like a light switch.

Also the caretaker mentioning they haven’t had a clairvoyant since the saint came like lady im going to go insane what the FUCK DOES THAT MEAN

Anyways, I loved this short story. It was more humor and Mori-Steepleton family shenanigans than horror and I wholly appreciated that.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Finding Him

AU!Dean x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping/taken, angst, mentions/implications of rape, mentions of blood, gruesome I think, maybe. (If I need more warnings, I’ll add them. Not sure what I need for warnings right now) I would recommend to being at least 18 to be safe.

Summary: Dean doesn’t come home from a supply run. Sam and the Reader find the Impala, but no Dean. Who would take Dean? Why? Clock’s ticking.

Word count: 2,400-ish

a/n: Inspired by a fic called Lost by @talesmaniac89​, only I switched the roles and the whole premise of the story in comparison.

Finding Him Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

~

His vision blackened by the dark hood that covered his head.

“See boss, I found him, one of the Winchester boys.” A male voice says. As if he were expecting a prize.

“Yes, I see that, you were also to get his little brother you nitwit!” another man shouted.

Dean could hear growls in the distance. Meaning he was dealing with more than just one monster. Also, what kind of monster?

“But doing this draws out his brother. Once he is out and about, I’ll get him.”

“You better, but watch out for his mate. I hear she’s feisty.”

Y/N, they knew her as well. But she was only with the brothers for, not even, 6 months now.

“Why again are we doing this? Why don’t we just swarm their base now? I mean, we can use his scent to lead us there.” A female voice was heard this time. She sounded rather annoyed by the whole situation.

“Because, it’s her I want.”

“Why?”

“She’s a half-breed. First of our kind. Her mother was human. They say half-breeds are weaker than their pure bred counterpart. But I beg to fucking differ!” the boss man got furious at a memory.

Y/N’s a what? Dean thought. He could only huff against the gag in his mouth that was tapped in by duct tape. His hands were bound by all kinds of bindings. Rope, tape and even chains. These werewolves took precautions to prevent Dean from escaping or fighting back.

Y/N must have done something to piss this guy off. He thought.

“Just bring the other Winchester, Lure this bitch out. I want her now!”

 “Sam, I found the impala but no Dean.” She said into the phone.

“Store clerk said no one was following him in the store. So it must have happened outside of the store on the way home.”

“I don’t like this Sam, who would take him and why?”

“I don’t know. Come swing by, pick me up and I’ll drive Dean’s baby home.”

“Sure thing, then we’ll get hunting for your brother.”

She hung up the phone. She could smell it. It’s faint but it’s werewolf. Maybe it’s time to come clean about her lineage to Sam. It might help in finding Dean.

 “So you’re a half breed. Half human, half werewolf? How’s that possible?” Sam asked. Not a hint of malice in his words, no hint of anger or hostility in his body language.

“My mom was human. My dad was an alpha werewolf. But my mom died giving birth to me. I never really had a mother. But there’s this other pack, my dad went rogue on them when they started killing humans. He’d kill his own members to save humans.” She explained.

“Your dad sounds like a good man.”

“He was. Then his alpha found us. Tried to take me. He fought back. Or, tried to. I managed to get away. But in the woods I could smell my dad’s blood. He kill him. I’m more than sure, he’s the one that took Dean. He’s trying to lure me out.”

“He really shouldn’t underestimate the Winchester way of doing things.”

“What do you have in mind, I do see those wheels in your head turning?” she asked.

“We’ll need Cas’s help. I’ll even see if Bobby or any of the apocalypse hunters are up for some fuckery.”

She smiled, what does this guy have in mind, must be awesome.

 Weeks pass.

Sure he’d feed Dean, give him water even. But the alpha has a plan. And it’s not a great one.

He’s building an army.

“It’s my daughter, Alpha. She’s presenting, and I feel she is suitable for bearing a half breed.” Said a woman behind the door.

“Once she is fully presented, we’ll put him to work. And soon she will bear a half breed. Because if that bitch won’t come to me, we’ll come to her, with an army to boot.”

Dean swallowed thickly.

Already several scared girls had come in, he was forced to impregnate these girls. In hopes of making werewolves just like y/n.

He’s not dumb, half breeds are not as weak as people or other monster claim them to be. Because of their human counterparts, they don’t give up.

“How many have we made so far boss?” the same wolf that kidnapped Dean asked.

“9. Nine half breeds. And 5 of us. Two omegas, one beta, and two alphas. The half breeds don’t even need to present. That’s the thing we need to research further.”

“I’m sure our doctors in the sandy hills would love to look at them, and this girl of yours.”

“I’m sure. But, she’s mine. Mine to tame, mine alone. I’ll make an omega out of her.”

“You want to see what offspring you and her would produce?” he asked. Seeing his masterplan now.

“We need an army. Those British hunters already got the drop on us and have killed most of ours. But now, with us being mostly half breeds. We’ll see how much of a match we are to them.”

“Impervious to silver. But they’ll die like any normal human.”

“Maybe so. But we’ll train them in combat. We will win this.”

His comrade nodded.

 A low growl could be heard from y/n as she paced the library.

“Weeks Sam, it has been weeks. We need to find him.”

“I know, Bobby’s trying to round up everyone.”

“I can feel them doing something to him, it’s not good. We need to hurry.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t describe it without making you feel uncomfortable. But it’s not good. Let’s just put it at that.”

Sam’s phone rang. Caller ID, Bobby.

“Hey, Bobby, whatchyou got?”

“Sam, bring your girl and come to our hide out. It’s getting bad out there.”

“Bad, bad how?”

“We’re out numbered. The amount of werewolves is growing. More than what we can keep up with.”

“Okay, we’ll pack what we can and meet you out there.”

Sam hung up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Their numbers are growing.”

“I told you it was bad.”

“What are you saying?”

“He’s making an army of half breeds. Like me. And he’s using Dean to help in that process.”

“You mean, he’s forcing these wolf girls to rape my brother?” Sam asks, growing sickened and angry.

“Yes. Which is why we need to hurry. Let’s just go where we need to go. I’ll tell you what we can do to win.”

 “Great, not only are you like a human, but impervious to silver. So our bullets and knives won’t kill you.” One of the male apocalypse hunters fumed.

“So how do we kill them?” Meg asks.

“Just like how you’d kill any human. An ordinary weapon. But don’t injure them. Or Don’t waste time on the kill. They…we can heal quickly.”

“You have to have some kind of weakness.” Bobby says.

“Well, we’re not totally impervious to silver. I learned that the hard way from you hunters.” She says. “Just before I met Sam and Dean, I ran into a hunter. He learned of what I was. And tried to kill me. His silver blade slashed my arm. I had this nasty looking infection. But really it was poison.”

“Dean brought you back, and we healed you up.” Sam added. She nodded with a sad smile.

“That’s why you didn’t tell us. You were afraid we’d do that to you.” Sam says. She cast her gaze to her feet, fiddling her hands at her waistline. She felt Sam’s hand at her cheek. Coaxing her to look up at him.

“You had our backs, you saved Dean from shifters and wendigos. You saved me from vamps and werewolves. Cas from angels. Hell, even our own mother from a number of monsters. We wouldn’t have hurt you darlin’.”

“When he saved me, Dean. I imprinted on him.”

“How’d you…”

“I’m not sure. He felt safe. I felt safe. It was after he saved me, I’ve been able to feel what he feels. Know exactly where he was. Or is. Some say imprinting anyone, a wolf or human, is done by sex. But we didn’t do anything. He just held me. Safe in his arms.” She explained.

“Could be that. Could be a soul thing.” Bobby says. “Soulmates.”

Sam and Y/N nodded.

A moment passed. Y/N shook her head out of her thoughts.

“We need to get Dean back before the Alpha kills him. When he deems Dean no longer useful. I can, feel him. He does feel far. But I’m sure I can find him.”

“Well, let’s do this. Bobby, you, and the hunters try to get their numbers down. Kill as many as you can. Y/N and I will get Dean out of there. Then after—”

“I’m killing that Alpha, once and for all. More lives are in danger with him alive.” She growled.

Sam could only nod.

 A shot rang out.

“All the guards outside are half breeds. Aim for the head.” She ordered the hunters that came along.

Shot after shot rang out.

She took in their scent. They weren’t that old, freshly presented. She stared at them in confusion. Half breeds don’t present. Unless a certain gene allows them to present or not enough research went into half breeds.

“Sam, you and I we need to move in. now.” She ordered. Sam nodded.

“Keep them from entering.” She told the hunters.

“Sam, let’s go!”

And they ran their way inside.

 “Get the human!” the alpha ordered.

Dean, looking a bit rough from weeks and weeks of rough sex, little food and water and no sleep. The wolf picked him up by the collar, Dean grunted against the motion as his hands were bound behind his back since the day they brought him in here. His wrists have been cut up and bloodied from his struggles.

“I’d be happy to rip his heart out for ya boss.” He sneered.

“NO!” The alpha shouted.

The wolf shuddered.

“He’s mine.”

He threw Dean at the Alpha’s side.

Dean landed on his side with a hard thud and grunt. He was too weak to play the tough guy. Too weak to give a witty comeback.

He just laid there, waiting for his death.

 Sam, preoccupied by other wolves in the warehouse as Y/N walked into the Alpha’s Domaine. His den, his ‘Throne Room’. He stood on a balcony meant for loading large machinery. It had no railing on one side.

She could smell his blood. Causing a growl to emerge deep within her chest. Her fists clench so hard she could draw blood.

“There she is.” The alpha growled.

“Here I am. Do you want to end this or should I?” she asked. Glaring down at him.

“You dare talk like that to your Alpha?” he growled.

“You are not my alpha, I’m no one’s alpha. You are a murderer.”

“Now, I’d beg to differ on that. You killed your own kind.”

“I have two kinds. Human and wolf. Humans seem a lot better than you.”

He growled at her remark.

“You mean, like this human!” he pulls Dean up by the collar. His sheer strength alone allowed him to hold Dean in the air, hanging him by his collar. He hung him over the ledge with no railing. Intending on letting him either hang to his death or drop him.

Her heart dropped.

Dean kicked, trying to get free. He began gagging for air.

“He’s weak, just like your father was. Your father was infatuated with a human and it weakened him. He was my right hand man!” he shouted.

She tried to keep a good poker face going. But Dean’s eyes began to roll as he was loosing more and more air.

“You are just like him. Infatuated with a human.”

“Let him go.” She says. Demanding.

The Alpha cocked his head, cocking an eyebrow, smirking. Oh, she thinks she’s going to have it easy. He thought.

“Please, I’ll turn myself over to you willingly. But you have to let him go. Alive!” she demanded.

“Hmm, such a tempting offer.” The Alpha says playfully. “But, no. I think I’ll pass.” He says.

He repositions Dean so he could easily wrap his hand around his throat. She could tell he was squeezing the life out of him, he kicked furiously, desperately trying to get free.

I hope this will work. She thought.

She darts, climbing up a stack of crates leading up to the platform.

She managed to get on the platform without him noticing. She could see the color to Dean’s face changing. His eyes rolling.

A fire burned in her eyes. He’s not going to take him from her.

With her claws now drawn, she forces her hand through the Alpha’s back and through his chest.

He can see what looks like silver nails on her claws.

The impact causes him to drop Dean.

He drops on to his back with a hard thud.

The Alpha gags as the poison from the polish is coursing through his veins.

“You really should have taken the deal.” She says. Pulling her hand from his back the Alpha drops dead with a thud. On the concrete ground below.

“Dean!” she gasps. Seeing him not moving.

She rushes to him, cutting him free. She brings her ear to his mouth. He’s not breathing.

“No, no, no. Dean, please.” She begs.

She works him over her shoulder as she get’s him to a more flat surface.

“Dean!” she heard Sam shout.

She laid Dean flat on his back and began doing chest compressions.

“Sam, Bobby, we need to get him help.” She begs as she worked on him.

“Cas!” Sam prays out loud. “Cas, if you hear me please, we need you to save him!”

“Cas!” she adds on. “Please, I can’t lose him!”

“Sam, Y/N.” Cas says behind her.

“Cas, help him.” She begs. Her eyes blurring with tears.

“I will try.” He says.

He places two fingers to his forehead. Only to see limited injuries healed. But Dean took in a deep, much needed, breath.

Cas falls back, weakened.

“I do not have enough grace to heal him completely. My grace has been depleting lately. Once I am fully regenerated, I’ll heal him again.” Cas says.

“Thanks Cas, it’s something.” Y/N says. “Let’s get him home.”

 ~

Part 2

What’d you think? Want more? Let me know either by ask or reblog. Remember, feedback is fuel.

~

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69​, @luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @jayankles​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @akshi8278​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 2/8/2021

[inkdrawndreamer]

Since my job has become a huge clusterfuck over the last couple weeks, I have been coping by watching BTAS and cooking up a rudimentary library AU. The idea is that most of the rogues work at the Gotham Library doing various jobs. Here's a quick rundown:

•Jervis is still the Mad Hatter in a way. He's a children's librarian who does storytime for the younger kids. They adore him because he gets really into character with it. His big event is a yearly Through The Looking Glass-themed scavenger hunt, complete with a Mad Tea Party for all the kids participating.

  •Harley is the head teen librarian who wins the kids over with pointed sass and a game console in the teen room.

•Scarecrow is the head of tech and is responsible for managing the collection of antique books in the archives. He also manages the shelvers, so he has a shit list reserved for people who return items damaged or covered in weird fluids. Actively enjoys fining people.

•Riddler is the head of reference who enjoys sending his coworkers on wild goose chases for items. Also does IT.

•Roman is the director, who relishes whatever power trip he can have in this fucking job and hates his board members behind a winning smile.

•Victor Zsasz is the weird patron who makes everyone unconfortable but is not quite problematic enough to be kicked out, which gives Roman just enough license to hire him after firing their last circ clerk. He quickly becomes the go-to person for dealing with asshole patrons because everyone is too scared to mess with him.

•Joker is that one guy who is banned from every other library in the area, knows it, and manages to stay just shy of getting banned while still causing as many problems as physically possible. He and Victor see each other regularly.

•Killer Croc and Bane are security.

•Renee Montoya is the unfortunate cop who doesn't actually work there, but gets called out to the library for every single fight.

•Bruce Wayne and Oswald Cobblepot are board members.

That's all I got so far. Still trying to figure out who else is masochistic enough to be in circ.

[greenninjagal-blog]

Sentence starters: 14, with Roman & Deceit??

Haha, long time, no write! We’re having a pretty poor time right now so I figured a little bit of Roceit would be in Order! Warning: I did not edit this in the slightest. 

Summary: Roman has always been a little curious, but the pastry chef definitely takes the cake on this one. 

Words: 3007

Quick Taglist:  @chelsvans @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3  @musical-nerd18 @never-end1ng-suffering @nonasficcollection @silverflame-wc @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws  

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing List || Prompt Page (it should also be stated that you don’t need to pick from this prompt page if you don’t want to. Just send me an idea and I’ll do my best :D)

The Point of This is....

“Here, Bite Down on this.” 

Roman has had a lot of weird first meetings. As a kid he liked to wander around the town meeting knew people, which, of course, drove his mother up a wall the first ninety or so times that she had glanced away from him for a second and he had disappeared completely on her. Roman was just a curious type of kid. The first time he had been confused by a couple of workers who were fixing an outlet behind one of the counters at his mothers favorite little shop, and he had just wanted to know what they were doing.

They had told him! Which had been cool. Did you know there were wires all in the walls?! He hadn’t even realized that his mom had been frantically looking for him until she had grabbed his arm in a frantic panic and asked if he was alright, and then don’t you dare wander off again! What if something had happened?! Roman! 

It had happened again anyway, the store clerk had been redressing a mannequin and it had been neat! Then window cleaner, then flower arranger from the flower shop, then the busker outside the Irish themed pub he wasn’t allowed to be near, then the sign flipper at the street corner who taught him to spin one of the smaller signs--

The point was that by the time Roman hit middle school he knew most of the “little people” by name, and they of course knew his. Roman knew that a lot of them called him by his full name because his mother used to scream it when he went missing,-- Roman Alexander Prince, if you don’t get back here right this instant-- but he learned a lot of cool things! 

He could arrange flowers, knew when and where the most dense foot traffic was, knew how to flip signs and draw attention. He could Macgyver his way through most electrical circuits, had the sewers under his town fully mentally mapped out, and knew that if you hit the vending machine behind the laundromat just right, you could get a free snickers bar. 

He liked learning knew things. And for the most part? People liked to teach him.

As he got older, he noticed just how heartbreaking that sort of thing was. When he held the ladder steady for the owner of the Mom-and-Pop grocer while the old man replaced the “N” of the sign, the man had casually mentioned that the last person who asked him how he was doing had been a family man who had stopped coming months ago.

Then the more he looked, the more he had seen it: the when he waved to the woman who worked the bakery her whole face had lit up like he had gifted her the world, when he bought the street performer a water they had almost broken down to tears right there on the street, when he had offered the man sitting alone at the park with his head in his hands a chance to pet his dog, the man had called him a “generous kid” and tossed him five dollars before he left considerably happier than he was when he arrived.

The point-- and yes, Roman did have a point-- the point of all of this, was that Roman liked people. He liked learning things, and he liked hearing the stories that people had to share.

He liked telling those stories.

Which would probably explain how he got here: Mindscape, the ever prestigious school for the gifted. Although “gifted” tended to be a relative term. Roman had met a lot more people here, all his age, who eyed him warily like his smile was something to be scared of.

(”It is!” Remus, his twin had cackled from across the table in the dining hall, as if they didn’t have the same exact face.)

Roman and Remus had gotten in together, both on accident: Remus had crafted an application for Roman, sent it in without Roman’s knowledge, and then hacked the School’s Admissions database and marked the application for acceptance. 

Things should have gone really bad, because Remus hadn’t known that the School President, Thomas Sanders, checks each and every application and when he noticed an application had skipped most of acceptance process he started digging.

Things should have gone really bad then. Like really bad. Like Remus ends up in jail and Roman has to change his name and move countries, really bad.

Instead Thomas Sanders, had sent them both acceptance letters, and Remus was required to work in the IT department without pay and take all the computer application classes. Somewhere in the middle of that Remus had struck up some sort of deal with the cyber defense team where the Mindscape’s tech department spent all school year building their best unhackable code, and in the summer Remus got to take anything and everything he learned that year and try to break it. 

Remus had been winning for two years now. Roman had seen the grown men reduced to tears the moment that Remus’s hands had started flying over the keyboard. 

Again, the point to this-- Roman had been at this boarding school for two years now, barreling his way through the journalism and creative writing classes like they were tissue paper walls. He’s met a lot of people his age, and he’s witnessed a lot of weird quirks about them.

Like how that kid in the library who likes to sleep on top of the bookcases, and Roman had witnessed getting swatted with a broom so many times. He was a gymnast and an acrobat and really freaking flexible-- and he had told Roman to fuck off when he had tried to learn anything more than that. 

Or like that artist who ran the yearbook club took pictures of everything. It had been pretty cute the way the puffball had insisted on taking pictures of the cracks on the side walk, the clouds in the sky, the rainbow made from the refraction of the light through the glass windows. They had called it “catching little pieces of happiness in everyday!” Which was much sweeter than Roman had been anticipating. “Oops! Sorry gotta go, kiddo!” They had said and then they had been gone taking more pictures before Roman could ask anything about them.

Or like that guy from his Civics class who had gotten way too competitive about the trivia game they had played in class. It wasn’t just trivia though: Roman had learned later that he apparently Logan Ackroyd, the Logan Ackroyd, who had won the American chess tournament for three year in a row now. Any game that Logan touched, reportedly, he won. Chess, Checkers, Othello, Jenga, even Tic-Tac-Toe, and he treated them each like a life or death situation.

The point is of this is everyone had a weird quirk about them.

Roman knew that, knows that.

Heck, even Roman had a weird quirk, which apparently was wandering the school halls after classes. And now that includes being dragged into one of those classrooms by the hoodie of his sweatshirt and then immediately having a fork of something shoved in his mouth.

“VIRGIL!” Another voice squawks, followed by a telltale click of a camera taking a photo, but okay, Roman is a little too busy choking on a fork to take in everything.

There is a hand on his back, and one on his chest, holding him surprisingly steady, while he basically dies-- and man, he did not think that he’d be dying at seventeen years old. Who knew that his mother would be right all those times she insisted that his habit of walking around aimlessly was gonna be the death of him? 

There are tears in his eyes by the time he manages an inhale, and someone takes the fork back out of his mouth. The hand on his back is rubbing soothing circles and his lungs flutter weakly, like a butterflies wings.

“Dude,” A voice says boredly. Roman squints up at his attacker-- because yes this was an attack and Roman will forever be scarred by it-- and vaguely recognizes the purple patched up hoodie for the library acrobat. “I said “Bite down on this”, not choke and die on the floor.”

Roman coughs to dislodge the last bit of whatever food just got shoved down his throat.

“Please ignore him,” A smooth voice says, a new voice, and one that sounds exactly like silk on Roman’s ears. “Are you okay?”

The new person, the man who is holding Roman, is, in a word, pretty. Actually, no wait, not pretty; he’s gorgeous. He’s beautiful. He’s Michelangelo’s David come to life, an angel straight from heaven, the God Apollo himself taking a quick break from driving his sun chariot to walk among the mortals--

“Virgil, what did you do!” The breathtaking stranger yelps.

“I didn’t do anything!” The acrobat shoots back, although he looks worried, “I just put the fork in his mouth! Oh shit, dude come on, please don’t tell me you’re allergic to something-- Dee what was in that? I can’t go to jail for killing someone! I just got here!”

There’s another click and a giggle and Roman blinks himself to enough awareness to realize that beside the three of them, there’s also that photography artist and the Logan Ackroyd in the room, also what looks like a cake with three slices cut out of it.

“You aren’t going to jail,” Logan says, although he’s playing on a Nintendo Switch and isn’t paying all that much attention to what’s going on.

“It just a cake,” Dee adds, almost desperately and Roman’s knees really do go weak at that. A pretty man? Using that tone to address Roman? Roman’s surprised he’s still conscious at all. “Are you allergic to eggs? What about Wheat? Milk?”

“Deep breath, kiddos!” The person with the camera suggests, and Roman knows immediately that they are 100% aware that his flushed cheeks and lack of breath are not from an allergy. They take another picture and Roman dies a little more on the inside. 

“Please...don’t let... my brother see that,” Roman coughs one more time, “I’m begging.” 

The artist just laughs and takes another picture.

“No allergies?” The god beside him says and Roman finds him looking absolutely anywhere but at him. 

“No allergies,” Roman confirms, “None at all. It’s all good. And you know I should be--”

“What did you think of it?” The acrobat interrupts. And when Roman just blinks he snaps, “The cake, Princey! Tell Dee that the cake was fine and he can stop banging his head on the table now.”

Roman chances a glance at the man holding him up, and yeah, he could see the faint red marks were he had obviously been hitting his head on something. Unfortunately, said man was also looking at Roman, looking for his answer to the question that was just asked of him and Roman has already forgotten what it was again. 

His eyes were different colors, and that totally reminded Roman of that week in the summer when he hung around the ophthalmologist just outside of town. Roman had looked at a lot of eyes, learned a lot about eyes in that time, but really there was something different about those ones. One was a brilliant bright brown, like hickory and the other was glistening gold. He looked like something straight from a fantasy. 

Roman’s fantasy.

“Hey,” The stranger says softly, “Are you okay, darling?”

And that’s the last thing Roman remembers. 

Because he fainted.

Because the gorgeous, beautiful, ethereal stranger called him “darling” and Roman’s weak gay heart promptly shut off.

He comes to again, just a few minutes later-- long enough that his head is throbbing and his lungs hurt a bit and mere idea of moving sounds exhausting. He’s comfortable just fine where he is.

On the floor.

With his head in the perfect strangers lap.

“There you are,” The man gives him a nervous smile that makes Roman’s mouth dry out. “Do you remember where you are?”

“Heaven?”

Roman has many regrets in his life. Like that time he thought that crawling down the manhole would be fun. Or the weekend he spent hanging out in the courthouse, which had turned out to be incredibly boring. Or that time he brought dog treats to the dog park and ended up get ambushed by like seven dogs at once and broke his arm.

But this....answering that, and immediately hearing that all too familiar cackle that can only belong to Remus? Yeah Roman rates that at the top of Roman’s Regrets.

The stranger bites his lip but he’s grinning all the same. “Apologies. When you fainted we, called the emergency contact on your phone.”

“Remus is not my emergency contact,” Roman grumbles and weakly shuffles his limbs to sit up.

Remus wheezes, from where he’s situated with an arm over the artist and the acrobat respectively. “Like-- Hell! I changed that months ago!” Remus grins, “I wasn’t gonna miss a chance to laugh at you while you get carted away in an ambulance! You only die once Ro! I wanna be there for it!”

“I should have consumed you in the womb.”

“Butcha didn’t!”

“The intention was there.” Roman sways, and he really doesn’t like the way the floor shifts like waves of an ocean.

“Pussy,” Remus tosses out, just for the sake of having the last word. He pulls his arms back from around the other two and fusses with the little artist’s hair. “Alright, brats! That’s my cue to drag my dumbass gay twin away before he faints again. But this was fun! Lets do it again! This time Dee can even let Roman actually fall and crack his head on the floor instead of catching him!”

Roman’s ears burn, and he peeks at Dee with a morbid mortification, “You caught me?”

“Well I was already, holding you up so it wasn’t as much as caught you as you...ah,” there’s a twitch of his lips, “as you fell for me.”

The noise Roman makes is not in any way, shape, or form flattering. 

Remus cackles again.

There’s a click and a giggle, “Sorry kiddo! That was just too good to pass up!” The artist bounces slightly. “You both should definitely come back though! We’d love to have the company!”

“No, we wouldn’t,” the acrobat interjects, and lets out a heavy breath when he’s elbowed by his friend. 

“Yes, we would!” The artist says. “And next time you can even have some of Dee’s pastries!”

“That’s not necessary,” The stranger says quickly, “They aren’t that good--”

“Will you stop lying!” the acrobat says, “You literally got into this prestigious ass school for your pastries, dumbass. They’re good. Accept it already! Geez!”

The stranger rubs his neck and then his cheek, before turning back to Roman. “Perhaps you can be the judge of that then? Darling?” 

Yeah, Roman’s knees are weak again, but he’s stubborn enough that he keeps standing. “I think I’d like that. Although, I can’t say I’m any kind of pastry expert.” 

“We all have our faults, I presume.”

Roman’s heart beats a little faster. “And admittedly I will be a little bit bias.”

“A little bit?”

“Only a smidge,” Roman reports, “I’ve heard that good company can affect the taste of food.”

“You intend to be in good company?”

“If it’s yours I’m sure it will be.”

“Who knew there was a smooth talker under that blush of yours?”

“If you think this was smooth you should see--

Remus claps his hands loudly enough to make the acrobat flinch and Logan in the corner curse in Korean. “Okay yes we get it: You both are gayyyyyy!” Remus exclaims, drawing it out just enough that Roman feels a bit of the Cain Instinct(tm) in him rise up. “But if neither of you are going to start undressing to give the rest of us a show, then we need to go!”

“Remus!” 

“I’m just saying!” Remus shrugs and then hooks an arm around Roman’s neck and pulls him towards the door, “Its not fair to the rest of us, if you keep being a tease!”

“I hope you step on a lego and fall into a pit of sharks.”

Remus messes with his hair, which seems to be his thing right now.

The others in the room call out their goodbyes, and Remus drags Roman away before he can get more than a sloppy wave. Its still embarrassing.

Actually everything that happened was embarrassing, from top to bottom, and there was absolutely no moment were it wasn’t completely mortifying. Not only did he choke on a piece of cake he didn’t even get to taste, but he gay panicked, and then gay fainted, and every second of it was recorded via camera snapshots. And late at night, when Roman is turning it over in his head and screaming into a pillow, he barely notices his phone flashing.

He’s already miserable, because they probably just invited him back to be nice, and he didn’t even know their names. And Remus was still laughing at him for everything, and everything just really sucked. He opens up his phone to check the message, ignoring the way the his screen burns his eyes.

There’s a text message. 

An actual text message.

Stole your number hope you dont mind

Roman can’t breath. The phone in his hand vibrates again.

Oh and your heart. I stole that too. this is a ransom demand.

$40,000 in cash. Or a date to the coffee shop in town.

pls?

this is Dee Ekans btw

The baker?

oh fuck pls tell me this is the right number

roman?

And Roman rolls over and presses his face into a pillow and screams. 

But really the point of all this is that Roman got the number of the cute guy. And maybe a date.

[dansedan]

I threatened on the Disco Writer’s Nook server to share my notes from this latest fic, but since they’re wildly incomprehensible and kind of silly I thought maybe I’ll just... chuck ‘em on here instead, under a readmore where they can pass by easier so uhhh xX WeLcOmE To My TwIsTeD mInDXx !!!1!!

(warning for LONG LONG post- I write full sections and asides from the universe that aren’t even in the damn fic within the same notes document a lot... I’m also insufferably pretentious on notes I KNOW and I cull it on the final as much as I can, as well as mild possible spoilers for a fic I haven’t written in the same au-timeline-thing I suppose and NSFT stuff)

(also a lot of this gets discarded because it’s so stupid and I write it at terrible brain moments)

"Por la mañana me di a la estúpida tarea de esconder mis cigarros por los rincones de la casa. Los encuentro, claro, pero fumo poco, fumo menos, hago esfuerzos por mejorarme de una vez."

meditative cigarettes and quitting fic.

Harry smokes less than he drinks, because he smokes to keep sharp and he usually wants to be numb, down to zero, space-based. but after going tee-total and opening up on his quest to actual-human-persondom he finds himself chainsmoking constantly. A concern in his volition is raised, a thought project ruminated on, and strategems laid out.

Harry grasps at the first half at a low point in his attempts to get better without anyone knowing or helping. He wonders about Kim's life, Kim's control. The electrochemistry in him fantasizes about a free-wheeling party-boy sort of Kim, still cool, still quiet, but free and soft and in control of his lack of control- the aviator, the flying ace, at the mercy of the elements and gliding by by choice- lands on the question of the one-per day, the Kim he knows, who takes what he needs with trepidation and preparation.

The truth is that last one- Kim was a social smoker, an after-dinner-if-the-date-is-pleasant smoker, an after-sex smoker, a bumming-cigarettes-to-gague-his-interest smoker (it all started with a boyfriend) but police work and his neverending stint in Juvie drove him to once-per-day, a creature of obsession. He used to heavily resent it- until Harry came along and joined the ritual.

"bebiendo mate con el ademán gracioso de los novatos. Es lo que hago ahora cuando siento ganas de fumar, dijo, con una sonrisa."

Kim and Harry not so close together- the idea of Kim and Harry not knowing everything about each other, because that's just not how you survive, but somehow Kim aching to be up-to-date on Harry all the time.

Harry and his funny little excursions around town. Kim visits and finds cigarettes hidden around the house, smells them in fear of finding drugs, or Harry has to awkwardly shuffle around for one when Kim invites him to smoke. Harry tries to join a book club, starts cooking lofty meals for his yoga class, tries being vegan for a week, checks out a bunch of books on the history of the Coupris Corp (SUZERAINTY ERA MARK OF AUTHENTICITY BABEY) as a way to help him wean off substances but also off Kim. They want each other but they know they need to stand on their own </3

Harry starts going to this novelty/gourmet supermarket and buying one new thing every paycheck like furikake that says it has lead on it and mate and all that. He spends his ex-drinking, smoking money on it.

Harry makes Kim huevos rotos :'-)

You're barely holding it together- how the hell did you get to this newsstand? Is it a newsstand? This structure- round, metal, iron-wrought frame and squat stature- was once a newsstand. How do you know it isn't? What is it now? You feel yourself point someplace on a menu you can't see past the dew of heavy crying- the clerk does not react, he's seen you like this- slam your wallet on the counter. You receive a paper parcel slightly larger than your fist, long. It's warm through the paper, and you can feel the dryness of a light dusting of flour passing through it. Food.

Your legs and arms are moving on their own again, wallet shoved this way, steps stumbled past the other, clumsily bringing whatever it is to your mouth and feeling crumbs fall into your beard- like a shark. That's one of the first things you remember, the beautiful old ultraliberal woman, like a shark, on her boat. The joy of your first- no, second- idiom. The first was up on Marvel Hill where you can't live. Kim said that. Kim's gonna be there, when you do it like a shark and don't stop any of this on your way to work and you stop crying so nobody thinks you did what you're avoiding doing. Is there anyway you can forget the frittte? There's so many locations in your mind, what kind of man are you, remembering the placement of a store that's meant to vanish and appear out of convenience like it's a fucking pitstop (would a flask not be enough? A single habit to get rid of, easy- but you're never easy).

You feel dark-dark-light-darkness and then light again, and smoother flooring and your coat being too warm. You're at the precinct- fuck, you're at the precinct- and it's late, real late, but you are here and there's too many people to fuck up here and at least you aren't crying. Your red face and eyes blend perfectly into too many years and days of red and puffy eyes to call attention. Perfect, perfect- god bless the innocence (or is innocence god? You can't forget- Remember- something.)

"You're late, shitkid." At some point Jean appears beside you. He's walked the other way and stopped- he's grimacing- but more importantly you see his left arm raise and still and clench itself, like a restricted movement, natural instinct. "You smell like shit- is that fish?" You do not know if that is fish because your throat hurts so bad already that you cannot know if you've been swallowing bones for this past hour (minute? Minutes? The walk feels like forever and never enough. You're swearing like a pig now that you're standing, how adequate.) 

You want to say it's agony, the end of days, the end of you- you want to say reprise, and sorry, and oh god I didn't want to see you please I don't deserve it Jean please leave and go away from me and also please oh god please hold me up I don't know what I'm doing but I'm trying to be better but I ate this thing that might as well be sawdust and I do not know what time it's been for several days.

Instead you say "it's my GOD-GIVEN RIGHT, VIC" and you move along like a fucking idiot.

"An image arises in your mind's eye-- a baby, dirty, hideous, its skin mottled and raw and red, peeling, stretching almost impossibly. The baby cries from pain- in it's brief stay on this earth it has already suffered more than some men do in their entire lives. He is built for it- thick skin, quite literally. He is being held by a slight, pale, ugly nurse- a nun in bloodied white rags with a terrible smell of herbs permanently attached to her. The scene is a caricature of mother and child- the hideous thing, held up to her chest, is drinking from an amber bottle, clouded over. In ten years, the contents of this bottle he will be legally too young for-- is this the reason you became the way you are? Are you just born-and-bred this way, surviving off of alcohol where most people had blood and human kindness?

-- It's not. The little pastiche you've thought up for yourself is half propaganda and half racist idiocy. Despite what the supposed "race-realists" may say, not everyone from the Insulindian is thrown on the bottle the moment they're weaned from the tit. In truth, you were barely even medicated, and those bitter, herbaceous spirits are not the cause of your current addiction. It's still on you harry, it's always still on you.

"Wake up- time to listen to the radio.

You love the radio. You really, really love the radio. You think the radio was the greatest purchase you have ever made- drunk you was horrible, and traumatizing, and entirely undebatably subhuman, but he did buy this radio, and by god fuck if that isn't his saving grace (a story comes to mind- a Dolorean allegory from your childhood- about a selfish rich woman and a lazy cheating bum both ferried up to heaven by a single onion that she'd given him during their lives as charity. You choose to ignore the part where they fight and fall back into hellfire). It's the thing that broke you off from your mazovian monk-like refusal to buy anything for yourself other than flour for a week after THE HANGED MAN, it's what got you into cycling and hanging out with the neon eyebleed catsuits crew, it's what reminded you that public libraries exist and nobody will ask you why you're in there reading about suzerainty-era motor carriage manufacturing and the homo-sexual underground. It's the greatest thing since communism, since disco, since-- since-- since cigarettes and kebabs and- and--

... And idolizing someone to the point of crucifixion. Which you aren't supposed to be doing.

Good thing the radio cranks up real loud! 

"You've read everything in this section- theory, history, photography, even, notably, the single romance novel, comically bad, about a middle-aged Vespertine businessman travelling north to the harbour where he had experienced his first teenaged love-- and the young, strapping man he gets to know there. (There are boats involved- it's very biblical). All in all, you read it twice,  meticulously rewrote its horrifyingly vague and unsafe sex scenes (in pen, inside. Not like the librarian's gonna check it) and masturbated at your efforts, winning you a very sore wrist and about 30 minutes of crying because you remembered being in a bookshop with Kim in Martinaise while you were remembering what books were, and then remembered Jean's apartment having a secret stack of equally terrible heterosexual novels bequeathed to him by an ex that you made fun of him for (rabidly, for years).

"Harry's apartment is no longer clean, but not as dirty as before, and its stalwart light-green walls seem, in the summer light, less queasy and foreboding than what they are now, almost dainty in the contrast of the sparse few frames and piles of knickknacks on the floor. 

Believe it or not, this is good-- sometimes, life with Harry makes you feel like a zoologist, intricately analysing an animal's pile of leaves and refuse and knowing, despite all human standards, what these habits mean for the foreign species. And for Harry, mess like this is good. It means he's kept busy by any one of his million little projects,  picked up and put down at a dizzying speed and constancy, each one increasingly out of left field in

Kim and harry talk about the radio, kim thinks about it "radio, what's new? Radio- some-one still loves you"

Harry talking abt agenda + library bc you can't smoke + planning for dinner with Kim :-)

Gotta go to the library so you don't chainsmoke

Gotta shower to go to the library 

Don't wanna shower bc executive dysfunction

Grab a smoke before you shower 

Oh wait you've been chain-smoking fuck (insert meditation on sharp vs smooth)

Hide all your cigarettes around the house feeling pathetic about it

You still don't feel like showering

But you just chainsmoked and you know you'll do it again because you JUST hid your smokes and the hiding spots are fresh in your mind

Birdbath (why are you so fucking dysfunctional that you can't shower like a normal adult) 

Introspective rubber ducky selfhate momence

Rubber ducky encourages you through the power of nihilism and Kim

Thought project gain

Go to library and need comfort so you're going thru all your usual shelves (insert le funny homo shelf joke here) 

What does he read about? Smoking? Idk

Kiiiiiim. Kimmy kim kim. Think about Kim

Maybe he reads recipe books to woo kim

        INSERT EXISTENTIAL BROTH EPISODE HERE to talk about how you've never actually seen Kim cook (he told you it was good soup, clearly lying, you told him it was broth, and that you could teach him how to make soup out of it if he wanted...)

(broth episode was another note, inserted here: 

ANOTHER harry coping fic. Miserable housebound weekend nights because he can't party but the house is horrible to be in and he keeps dunking his hands into more and more ice water and taking like half-body cold showers and he's like "maybe this is bad for my skin!!! I gotta get out holy shit" and he's like uhhhh fucking. Can't go to work. Let's go to the supermarket. And then he's almost there and he's like OH FUCK NO THERES ALCOHOL AT THE SUPERMARKET and he straight up bolts out of there and muscle memory gets him to a shady ass butcher shop in some random immigrant neighborhood and he buys so much fish because of a failed check and he goes home and basically he makes so much fish stock. He makes just so fucking much fish stock and Kim comes to pick him up the next day and panics because it genuinely smells like the dead in there but it's just harry making fucking. fish broth or something. Just harry coming up to the door in his work clothes with way too much cologne on and a thermos of fish soup like "uh... Do you want some Broth kim?" And Kim can't fucking cook but he takes some Broth anyway and he's trying to figure out why harry would do that but harry is being a little edgy about it and Kim is like oh god I need to help him a little and they have a sit down about it and he's like wanting to say "hey if you need somewhere to go I'm here for you" but it's hard and I don't even know if he ends up actually saying it. Okay bye)

Talking about the sexiness of supermarkets and how they make reptile brain go brrr

Think about alcohol vs smoking. Think about kimmy kim kim (insert european drinking joke here)

Have that get stuck in his head. Kim kimmy kim kimmy kimmy kim kim. Kimster. Kimbo. Kitsy. Kitty. Cutie. Oh god no fuck oh god I need to stop.

He goes home and still rlly wants to smonk

You hide the cigarettes around the house. It feels stupid, and you know you’ll be embarrassed having to pull the Jamrock Shuffle in your own apartment, that you’re a grown adult who could just *buy another box of cigarettes* whenever you wanted to, but you feel like it helps. Drag the killing thing away from the crappy little animal even for a couple moments more, let yourself get tired out like the old man you are below all the disco scaffolding. You can’t really bring yourself to shower, but you drag the radio into the bathroom with you and wash yourself in the sink. You try to be good about it- stay away from the mirror, really lather up and clear away the sweat that’s caked to you throughout the night and morning, feel the warm graze of the water on your skin. You brush shampoo through your hair and work it in in cycles, focus on the humming feeling of the bristles on your scalp, trying not to think of much of anything, just the smell of the cheap powdery soap and of what clothes you’ll wear today, try to settle into a better memory of this instead of picking at the shame you feel about how hard it is for you. ducking your head into the stream of the water in the sink and forgetting everything except the whishing, scratching sounds of cleaning.

Being clean feels good, and being dressed again feels maybe even better (knit sweaters are a revelation- who could’ve known polyester satin wasn’t made for seaside winters), so by the time you walk your way into the Jamrock public library the morning’s incidents are nigh-forgotten. The dry warmth of the old library is a reliable balm- the yellowed fluorescent lighting washing out the rows and rows of slate-grey plastic bookshelves lined up like soldiers over prerevolutionary tile, with its woven edges and dark, jeweled pinwheels of color, stretching out endlessly full of books, reels, and the rare intricate portrait hanging overhead. Before them, long wooden tables dotted with mismatched lamps, flickering in and out of use, occupied by antsy juveniles and sleeping hobos. It feels effortlessly like home, like a shared worldly past that welcomes everybody- and maybe that just means that it's generic and a little overdue for renovations, but you love it as it is.

Shuffling through the tall shelves of books, you weave through mindlessly to find your favorite sections- the history (both common and infra-cultural, with a surprisingly competent collection of industrial works and a predictably miserablly little shelf of homo-sexual underground interest), the art, and the meager offerings of political literature. You can hear your off-tune humming echo back to you somewhat feebly off the high, painted ceiling, done up in some lame facsimile of early Dolorian excess (therriers, noblewomen, forget-me-nots crowding the edges of each filligreed panel, dead-eyed faces in doleful expressions, pale and empty smiling). You've got all of daylight ahead of you, which is more than enough time to browse around as usual before you have to get yourself home and start cooking.

You turn the corner smoothly into the very back of the library, into a wider set of dusty and anachronistic wooden bookshelves-- history trends unpopular, considering the fact that all the books within are horrifyngly outdated due to a miserable municipal budget, maybe that's for the best. There are better places for students to get this information now, like the private library a couple blocks away at the Cycle Universitee, or from library dial-stations tuned in from the south, where the Bibliotheque Nacionelle Des Travailleures is run by Coalition-approved volunteers. The first thing to catch your eye is the pillar of works of infra-cultural expression and documentstion- essays and short stories from New authors, studies and zines on Disco, and of course, the particular political darling of the 20s, the homo-sexual underground.

You've read everything in this section- theory, history, photography- even, notably, the single commercial romance novel, comically bad, about a middle-aged Vespertine businessman travelling north to the harbour where he had experienced his first teenaged love-- and the young, strapping man he gets to know there. (There are boats involved- it's very biblical). All in all, you read it twice,  meticulously rewrote its horrifyingly vague and unsafe sex scenes (in pen, inside. Not like the librarian's gonna check it) and masturbated at your efforts, winning you a very sore wrist and about 30 minutes of crying because you remembered being in a bookshop with Kim in Martinaise while you were remembering what the world was, and then remembered Jean's apartment having a secret stack of equally terrible heterosexual novels bequeathed to him by an ex that you made fun of him for (rabidly, for years). You shudder, now, at the sight of its cracked spine looking you from the middle sill. Its gaze feels hefty and judgemental, and you do not like it.

There are  

KIM CHAPTAAAA

"you'd like him to take care of himself. You'd like to be there to do it for him when he can't"

"He opens the door, and immediately there are a million little things that test you (hell, with that thick-knit sweater he's wearing, any weakness in you would have him writhing on the floor in seconds). The half-up style of his now-so soft looking auburn hair, split across to reveal the pale white of his nape between the raised collar of his sweater, the kind wrinkling of his open smile upon seeing you walk in, the light, jazzy music of the radio backing his belly-deep laugh and the heady smell of incense in the room are all exhilaratingly Harry to you.

What to do with jean:Standalone fic for him?

Starts when he sees Harry with the eyebleed crew and he's the one who goes up to him like "WHAT IN THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING SHIT KID" and harry is like. Oh god oh fuck jean uh let's be... Cordial! Optimistic! (What jean sees is one of his signature pauses but like. Yeah it's the skills talking) and he's just like "oh it helps me stay sober and make friends, I found out about it on the radio🙂" and Jean is like holy fucking shit this is absolutely insane.

            1) bc Harry used to be so repressed he was basically homophobic with his macho act

            2)bc Jean originally didn't believe the amnesia thing but then when Harry genuinely did shit like this and never told him (which, if it was a cruel joke he would've tried to make it very public and obvious and drag jean into it to embarrass him)

            3) because JEAN was his friend and why the fuck does he just. Run off with random people with a radio ad instead

            4) because he's doing so well. He's like, fully at the sort of "this-side-of-pudgy" bear level that's hot enough to get him positive attention over the damage of the alcohol and he's wearing the sort of clothes that show it and he's got all these crew buddies where Jean is stuck with his hellish depression workouts where he sometimes works until he pukes and then feels like shit about self-harming like that. (what he doesn't know is that Harry is basically doing that same exact shit just he's using his swag alcoholic skills to lieeeeee about it. rip)

Maybe harry apologizes in their conversation about the romance novels. Like it blurts out.

eventually add in the previous consideration fic you were thinking of &quot

starting with bitter porno kimbo/viccy catfight bullshit

"no that's pathetic and he'd never go there." dynamic where kim cares quietly and jean is bitchy about Harry

then "no, he's dealt with harry so much already, I can't imagine." so it's all concern for him

and then that backslides into "how could I comfort him? how could he understand my need for comfort? "

we stan a mildly nonaccepted himself Jean so he's like "WAIT UH GAY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS GUY TOO? FUCK FUCK FUCK"

gotta make it panic horny. it's a Dan Gat fic. how would kim look.... yknow......

since the only other guy who's been like that with him has been harry -> third wheel dynamic going to ->

horny ot3 dynamic. old men doting on him because it's his fantasy and he gets to be the pampered one goddamnit

end somehow

THIS IS THE EXACT DYNAMIC WE'RE GOING FOR Jean liked Harry premart and Harry was unbearably machismo repressed homophobic bullshitero man (I need to decide if he was stupid enough to be like AS LONG AS IM ON TOP IT ISNT GAYYYY or smth sex/intimacy related like that maybe he just kinda. ""comically"" hit on Jean or said suggestive shit to him but never fully acted on it) and then he comes back from Martinaise all loyal puppy dog or whatever for Kim and Jean is like "??? OKAY SO I GO THROUGH ALL THIS BULLSHIT AND HE TALKS SO BIG ABOUT LOVING MUSCLE DUDES AND NOW HES GONNA FUCK THIS GRANDPA?" but then he's like self-aware enough to know that's stupid.(Jean's problem is that he looks for wounds on Kim and not Harry, so he's all like "damn this bitch stole my mans when he's actually good...." meanwhile Harry is like Very Obviously Self Harming All The Time and not even really with Kim so often rip)

Harry wants to reach out and ask him about his thing with Kim because he has memories of Jean either being gay or being less homophobic or just having Gay Energy that he was an asshole about or whatever plus it just feels natural to work through shit with Jean but he stops himself because he's like "well DRINKING also felt natural that doesn't mean we should do it..."

maybe they get into it because Jean makes an offhand comment about "stop ogling kim" and harry is like (computer warmup noises) and jean just kinda forces him to spit it out RE: meme description

Harry's whole deal with avoiding Jean is "some things are unforgivable and I'm fairly sure I've done things bordering on that to you for so, so long, and now I don't even know what they were or who I was when I did them, to me that person is dead, and I know then that I can't apologize to you thoroughly, genuinely, and I don't want to insult you by presuming that I ever could, at this point. I don't want to insult you by assuming I can just go back to what we were before, to each other, without an apology or an actual understanding of what went wrong. I can't speak for certain about his mind-my mind- but at least in some part that guy killed himself because of what he did to you, and to everyone around him, sure, but mostly to you. And now I'm here, and it feels horrible to try and go against that and push myself into your life. It feels horrible to see I've done something to you worth killing myself over and then still insist on coming back to bother you beyond the grave"

And Jean's response is "you thought everything was bad enough to kill yourself over! And you're still alive, you're still him, and fuck, yes it'll take a long ass fucking time for me to ever really forgive you, but you were my best friend and you're still fucking alive- I see you every single day, Harry, do you know what that's like? To see your best fucking friend every single day and watch him flinch and try to act like he doesn't exist every single time he sees you? Fuck you and fuck what you wanted before, *I* never wanted you dead, and your little stunt here with pretending you're finally fine and then keeping everyone at an arm's distance is just another, slower grave you're digging" etc etc "if this is the upswing at last, I’d better be there for it.**”

Jean is a frat boy that you do not expect to be a frat boy. He unironically gets along with mack and chester. He's only just started to grow out of it through dealing with Harry's horrible downfall

sequel to geste drole des debutantes but it's just a 3 chapter PWP masturbation fic..... of Kim and Harry after the dinner and then SHOOKETH SURPRISE IT'S JEANGST YEARNING TIME!

Kim trans.... Good for him...

Stroker shit

He wants to fuck Harry basically

     ...slow tease? Or fast and desperate?

Dry kissing

Hair pulling...

Youre hard, and you're wet, and you can't help but think of that smile on his face as you left and you want him to taste it, to get on his knees for what he's done to you and swallow it all down, feels the soft brush of his beard on your thighs.

 Harry also trans... Good for them good for them...

Handkink shit

Wants kim to absolutely wreck his shit

... He's new at this

Slow....

Jean

Jeangst

Want to wreck harry's shit... Mouthfuck stuff maybe

Power bottoming?? Idk

Whoops my hardcore dom revenge fantasy has slipped into a getting bossed around by the guy I thought I disliked for taking away my partner UHH.... LETS NOT UNPACK THAT....

Some idiot makes like a homophobic stupid "ah the fucking lieutants off scissoring or something" comment and then jean is like "oh god what if that but sexual instead"

Gym shower...

Jean has a big dick too bad bitch

When harry du bois ruined his life, thinks satelitte-officer Jean Vicquemare- he might at least have had the decency not to also curse his dick. This shit was weekly and only getting worse, now that the shitkid didn't constantly smell like despair and carrion had scored a threesome with a bartender's manual.

[gaylittlemonsters]

FIRST POST FIRST POST FIRST POST *ahem*

We (Members and Affiliates of Chester and Vernon Paranormal Investigations) have made a Tumblr! Unfortunately. You can ask us questions, and also this is an aesthetic blog for those of us who are...more artistically inclined.

Anyways, click the readmore to learn more about all of us. Ask box is open! Come hither and ~ask away~. Also included are how we'll sign posts so you know who did what.

-Bailey Vernon, Head Detective and Legal Expert for C&V Paranormal Investigations, London.

Hi! My name's Marielle Chester! I'm very excited to run this blog; this whole 'internet' thing seems very fun!

Bio|

Age: :)

Gender: Female!

Pronouns: She/Her

Affiliated Entity: The Eye 👁️0👁️

Role within the Company: Head Detective!

Favorite Color: Green!

Fun Fact: I'm the coolest bitch in this group! 💙 I collect weird necklaces. Elm is my baby brother ❤️❤️

Sign off: - Marielle

Hey. My name's Elm Chester. I desperately want to sleep but I'm being forced to write this.

Bio|

Age: 29

Gender: Male.

Pronouns: He/Him.

Affiliated Entity: The Eye.

Position Within The Company: I don't work for C&V. I'm a researcher at the Magnus Institute, London.

Favorite Color: Blue.

Fun Fact: Trans rights baby. I also haven't seen the sun in months, send help El*as keeps assigning me to flesh cases.

Sign Off: -Elm.

Hey hey!!! My name's Chaesha (I also go by Cassidy) Harlow! I'm the coolest person on tumblr B-) Please ask me about art!!! I'm begging you!!!!

Bio|

Age: 28

Gender: Female!

Pronouns: She/Her

Affiliated Entity: The Spiral!!!!!!!!

Position Within The Company: Field Investigator specializing in abroad investigations!

Favorite Color: Purple!

Fun Fact: I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND SYDNEY!!!!!! also my cat is haunted. ( it's MY CAT -Elm)

Sign off: -CHAESHA (*_*)

Hey, it's Sydney. I'm a plant lover and I need you all to stop over watering your succulents. I take things too seriously sometimes. I'm the only person in this fucking building with sense.

Bio|

Age: 29

Gender: Cactus.

Pronouns: She/They

Affiliated Entity: The Buried.

Position Within the Company: Lead Field Investigator.

Favorite Color: Green.

Fun Fact: Yes Chaesha I love you too ❤️. Please finish your report. I'm a stickler for the rules and if you bully my filing clerk's I'll kill you.

Sign off: -Sydney L.

HEYHEYHEYHEY!!!! I'm Jamie!!!! I'm a Theatre Kid!!! I do IMPROV!!! Also if you want to eat the rich with me please RSVP slots are filling up fast!

Bio|

Age: Fuck you ♥️.

Gender: No ♥️

Pronouns: Any! All! Give me the pronouns!

Affiliated Entity: The Stranger 🤡🤡

Position Within The Company: I don't even go here!

Favorite Color: Blue!

Fun Fact: My girlfriend 💙 Marielle can and will kill you. I eat the rich! Starting with you Peter if you're reading this you better start running!

Sign off: - Jamie 🤡🤡

Hey. My name's Robbie O'Connor. I am an avatar in the way that avocados are fruit. Honestly just here to hang out with Elm and play music.

Bio|

Age: 29

Gender: Male? I guess.

Pronouns: He/Him but in the way that like, a car is a He/Him.

Affiliated Entity: Desolation/End

Position Within The Company: I don't work with Marielle and Bailey. I'm 'technically' employed for the Magnus Institute but I haven't been to work in like months. Why the hell is Elias still paying me?

Favorite Color: Orange.

Fun Fact: I've heard every death related joke in history please stop. Also let me infodump and I'll straight up marry you.

Sign off: ~Robbie.

Hello! I'm Kiva James! I very much love the Ocean, you can find me at the beach almost every day! I have my own tumblr that you will never find.

Bio|

Age: 33

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Affiliated Entity: The Vast! ⛈️⛈️⛈️

Position Within The Company: Field Investigator/ Detective In Training!

Favorite Color: Yellow!

Fun Fact: I got hit with the avatar stick at eleven. My girlfriend works here as well (Bailey say Hi!!!). Simon if you're reading this I'm killing you someday 💙.

Sign off: ~ Kiva James!

Hi! I'm Amethyst O'Riley!! We're all going to die someday and there's nothing we can do about it ❤️

Bio|

Age: 30

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Affiliated Entity: The End

Position Within The Company: Detective!

Favorite Color: Dark Blue!

Fun Fact: I'm in a band! Shout-out to Robbie! Also my husband is dead </3 sometimes I can still hear his voice.

Sign off: Amethyst 💀💀

STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DEAD LOVE! My name's Jack Lukas and I'm sick of people thinking I've died when I'm ALIVE I'm just a HERMIT!

Bio|

Age: 30

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Affiliated Entity: The Lonely. Unfortunately.

Position Within The Company: 'Decontamination Specialist'

Favorite Color: Purple.

Fun Fact: I'm NOT DEAD. Also I like photography. Fuck you Peter let me come to the family funerals.

Sign off: Jack

I introduced myself earlier, but my name is Bailey Vernon. I'm doing this to appease my friends and nothing more.

Bio|

Age: 32

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Affiliated Entity: The Web ::::)

Position Within The Company: Detective, Co-Owner, and Legal Department.

Favorite Color: Orange.

Fun Fact: Sometimes you have to push your dad down the stairs. (also yes, hi Kiva love you too ♥️)

Sign off: Bailey Vernon, Head Detective and Legal Expert for C&V Paranormal Investigations, London.

I'm sleepy and don't want to write this 😔. My name's Gem. I just wanna read.

Bio|

Age: Like 27 I think?

Gender: Nonbinary.

Pronouns: He/They.

Affiliated Entity: Vast/Spiral/End

Position Within The Company: I work at the Magnus Insitute's Library, in that I'm haunting it. I'm the Leitner expert.

Favorite Color: Don't make me pick a color.

Fun Fact: I'm a ghost :) Also I like books :D and Space! And the Ocean!

Sign off: Gem 🌠☔

Hey. My name's Theo. Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to.

Bio|

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Affiliated Entity: Hunt. Arguably also the Desolation but who cares? I kill monsters. Position Within The Company: I'm literally only allowing them to live because they give me information.

Favorite Color: Red.

Fun Fact: If you so much as look at Gem negatively I'll fucking rip your spine off. Also if you have any cool facts give me them.

Sign off: Theo

Hello. My name's A.H. (Aaron Hughes) Chester. I'm going to end up going insane one of these days from all the bullshit I put up with.

Bio|

Favorite Color: Green.

Age: 17

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Affiliated Entity: The Hunt.

Position Within The Company: Filing Clerk

Fun Fact: I do my own tattoos. My girlfriend will beat six people to death and then tell me "I can't help being a Gemini 😭". And honestly, valid.

Sign off: -A.H.

Hiii!!!! I'm Emily Fieldings, I'm a Gemini, and I love dogs. Send me pictures of your dog.

Bio|

Age: 17

Gender: Female!

Pronouns: She/Her

Affiliated Entity: The Slaughter

Position Within The Company: I don't work here!

Favorite Color: Blue!

Fun Fact: If you bully my friends I'll fucking stab you. Sign up for my book club!!!

Sign off: Emily 🗡️

Hello! My name is Elena! I like the night sky, sports, and pictures of your pets. Please send them.

Bio|

Age: 17

Gender: Female!

Pronouns: She/Her

Affiliated Entity: The Dark. Not by choice though. Unfortunately for me, I got eaten by the closet monster! I got better but not my lightbulbs burst for no reason :/

Position Within The Company: Filing Clerk! Favorite Color: Bright Green!

Fun Fact: TRANS RIGHTS!!! I just wanna love my girlfriend and do well in school.

Sign off: Elena 💜

Hi! My name's Milley Brown! I unfortunately know how tumblr works.

Bio|

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Affiliated Entity: The Corruption! I liked centipedes as a kid and now I get to feed jackasses to them! Win fucking win!

Position Within The Company: Filing clerk. Favorite Color: Yellow!

Fun Fact: I actually really hate the Corruption. I am only here so I can talk to cool bugs. Also, I want to go swimming but for some reason every time I try it FUCKING RAINS.

Sign off: Milley :)

[harold-of-the-rocks]

I was tagged by @whitedeadflower and @spreadthecurse

Thank you!!

50 Questions You’ve Never Been Asked Before.

1. What is the color of your hairbrush? Yellow

2. A food you never eat? Hard boiled eggs. Awful.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? Too warm.

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Just getting home.

5. What is your favorite candy bar? Butterfinger

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports event? Oh, yeah. Chicago Cubs, the Bulls, the Bears, White Sox, Cardinals. 

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? “Can you not? Get down! Stop it!” to my cat.

8. What is your favorite ice cream? Chocolate.

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Water

10. Do you like your wallet? Yep. Much more functional than the last one.

11. What was the last thing you ate? Veggie Straws

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? I can’t even tell you the last time I bought new clothes.

13. The Last sporting event you watched? No idea lmao Cubs winning the World Series??? lol

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? Garrett’s Chicago mix.

15. Who was the last person you sent a text message to? Monse

16. Ever go camping? Once...

17. Do you take vitamins? Nope.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? Fuck no lmao but don’t take that response as me shitting on anyone who is into their religion

19. Do you have a tan? Nope

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? Pizza

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? I don’t like straws period. Except with iced coffee.

22. What color socks do you usually wear? I have a wide variety of different colored socks and none of them have one that matches.

23.Do you ever drive above the speed limit? Always by at least 8

24. What terrifies you? My parents negatively comparing me to my aunt over things that aren’t actually negative.

25. Look to your left, what do you see? A radiator 

26. What chore do you hate? Laundry

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian Accent? Steve Irwin

28. What’s your favorite soda? Sprite

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru

30. Favorite cut of beef? I don’t eat much beef.

31. Who’s the last person you talked to? My friend Lesli

32. Last Song you listened to? The Thing That Should Not Be - Metallica

33. Last Book you read? My Friend Dahmer

34. Favorite Day of the week? Thursday

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards? Yep

36. How do you like your coffee? Two tablespoons of cream and two teaspoons of sugar

37. Favorite pair of shoes? Black slip on sneakers

38. At what time do you normally go to bed? 1-2 am

39. At what time do you normally get up? 7-8 am

40. What do you prefer sunrise or sunsets? Sunsets

41. How many blankets are on your bed? One

42. Describe your kitchen plates? They’re planets

43. Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage? Rum and Coke

44. Do you play cards? Not really

45. What color is your car? It’s like a wine color

46. Can you change a tire? Nope

47. What is your favorite state/providence? Oregon

48. Favorite job you’ve ever had? Movies and music section of the library as a librarian clerk

49. How did you get your biggest scar? I fell on a brick and it put a gash in my leg that was pretty deep, but it’s still a fairly small scar and mostly not noticeable at this point because I’ve had it for 20 years.

50. What did you do today that made someone else happy? It was my friend’s birthday today so I got her weed and a new pipe. She was pretty happy about it.

I’ll tag @honeycombalgorithm @niandra-la-des @legzeppelin @miserychain @ashtoashesdusttodust @breadpunk7 if you guys wanna

[itslulu42]

What would you write for "Letters not retuned"? (This is how you be dramatic, right?) lol Have a lovely night Lulu

Hi Nonny!  Technically, I was playing that title game about 2 or 3 weeks ago and closed the prompts. But today was a little bit of a stressful day at work and I am grateful that you have shown up to my inbox to purify my soul.

We are going to make this a feel-good Disney sports movie like Remember the Titans or Rudy.  This is fucking long.  Why is this long?  It’s just supposed to be a short doodad.  Whatever, you get the entire movie plotline.  It’s long enough that I hid it under a cut.  

Modern day AU.

Lee is a young orphan teenage boy who lives in a foster home with seven other kids.  His grades are just above passing, and keeps to himself so his foster parents don’t every really worry about him.  They aren’t bad people, but they just have too many kids.  To pass the time and to make a little money, Lee’s started his own errand service for the elderly.  Mrs Sato isn’t feeling well enough to pick up some ginseng from the store and Mr. Ito would like today’s paper because his granddaughter’s in it.  

He’ll go around neighborhood, knocking on the doors, collect the money and run down a few miles to the market, pick up the goods, and run it back to deliver everything.  

One day, he meets the geometry teacher/track coach Maito Gai at the grocery store.  That’s when Gai realizes that his best athlete has nothing on Lee when it comes to running.  Gai tries to recruit Lee to the team right around the same time when Lee gets word that he has an uncle that’s alive a few towns over and could take custody of him. 

The big challenge for Lee is that he is at the line for the acceptable grades needed for an athlete.  Gai, eager to see Lee succeed, starts to tutor him, and that’s when Lee finally reveals a long held secret: he can’t read.  No one ever paid Lee enough attention to learn, so instead he picked up tricks to get by without anyone finding out.  Gai is undeterred and promises Lee that he will teach him, raise those grades, get him on the team, and work towards a scholarship.  

Lee isn’t really into it at first.  The time he spends learning and practicing track feels like a waste.  He’s working toward something, but it means he doesn’t have the time to do the errand service anymore.  It cuts into the immediate gratification of being paid by Mrs.Sato.  Gai finally gets Lees attention when he says he will work with Lee to send out a letter to his uncle every week, in hopes that the uncle will end up with enough interest to be a part of Lee’s life.  

Cue The Obligatory Training Montage!

Lee hitting the alarm clock at 5am

Lee shoveling cornflakes into his mouth as he studies flashcards.

Lee shopping for cool navy track uniforms at the mall before his foster mother leads him to the clearance section 

Lee sporting his a green and orange track uniform that stands out like a sore thumb amid the rest of the squad.

Gai showing up in green and orange the next day

Lee running around the track course.  (Neji is in the background doing the most graceful pole vault you’ve ever seen)

Lee falling asleep in history class.

Lee doing stretches while Tenten throws a javelin

Lee and Gai in the library as the work on the letter to the uncle  

Flipping through a calendar sequence

Lee sends those letters to his uncle every week, but he never gets one in return.  Team Gai racks up the wins and they make it to state!  The whole school is excited; there are pep rallys and signs all over the school.  Finaly Lee hears back from his uncle, he’s going to show up at the last meet!

Lee wakes up at morning of the track meet and eats his cornflakes.  Ten minutes late he pukes them back up because his nerves are killing him.  The team arrives at the track meet and Lee is a mess.  Gai pulls him to the side and give a beautiful pep talk about youth and determination that gets Lee’s head back in the game.  The whistle blows…

…and Lee runs.

He wins, of course, a photo finish that has everyone cheering.  Lee looks at the crowd to see a bunch of familiar faces: his foster parents and the other six kids, the neighbors he did errands for, the market clerk he saw every day.  He’s thrilled.  Overjoyed!  Everyone comes to greet him one by one and give him congratulations.  

But as the afternoon wears on, Lee notices there’s a person missing.  His uncle, a man he’s never seen before, and a person he only knows by name.  

He never shows.

The brilliant smile on Lee’s face falls away, and by the time everyone loads back into the team bus to make the trip back, Lee is devastated.  The rest of the track team is celebrating, the loud noise a stark contrast to Lee’s stony expression, a victory medal hanging from his chest and the one letter from his uncle promising he would be there clutched in his hands.

The whole team loads off the bus, and Lee is the last one off of it.  Gai tells Lee to stay behind while the rest of the team leaves. Lee, heartbroken, even with the medal around his neck, lets Gai have it as soon as everyone has left.   Gai allows Lee to rant without interrupting, then silently hands Lee a manila envelope.  Lee snatches the envelope and tucks it under his arm without opening. 

Lee’s foster parent is waiting in the parking lot to pick him up.  Lee tosses his gear in the back seat, and climbs in the front to sit down. Gai watches the car leave from the top of the school stairs.

About a minute down the road, Lee opens up the manila envelope.

In it is a photocopy of all the letters he wrote to his uncle and all the letters that Gai wrote back in response.  Gai isn’t Lee’s uncle, but he feels like every letter deserves a response back.  So Gai lists all the ways he is proud of Lee, of his work, effort, perseverance, and  determination.

The vehicle comes to a stop at a red light and Lee jumps out, leaving the car door open as he runs with all of his might back to the school.

(Title game prompts not open.  I’m just doing the one’s in my inbox)

[evakfanficsrecs]

Hello, babes!

Another month has passed (how the hell did that even happen?!) and I’m finally here with a new, pretty darn long masterpost with recs of all the Evak fics I’ve recently enjoyed! As you can imagine, I’ve read quite a few of them in the span of one month, so when I say this is a long one... it really is a long one. That being said, I hope you guys enjoy! 

As always, the list is divided into oneshots and chaptered fics. My personal favorites are tagged with a “★”. Completed chaptered fics are tagged with a “✓”.

*

ONESHOTS:

The Balloon Intervention by lovelycarcass ★ Summary: uni!au; “Dropping hints,” Elias repeats incredulously. “This guy is about as subtle as a bull in a china shop. His crush was just painfully oblivious.” “Can you believe he’d emptied the fucking tissue dispenser just to get his attention?” Mutta snorts. Or, Even wants to get Isak's attention and the Balloon Squad decide to take matters into their own hands.

give it to the person you love by Joana789 Summary: Sometimes Isak thinks Even’s laugh is brighter than the sun.

Someday You Will Find Me Caught Beneath a Landslide by Alliesana Summary: neighbors!au; Isak's neighbor plays his guitar every night. Isak falls asleep to it every night until he doesn't.

I’m Not That Innocent by quickwitlips & walkthetalk ★ Summary: There’s a Halloween party coming up. Eva’s convinced Isak to do a matching costume with her, because no one else will. It’s Britney, bitch.

du og jeg for alltid by Sabiduria Summary: "Are you seriously going to make me sleep on the couch because I beat you in FIFA?!" Isak doesn't like to lose.

yearn to live my love by mauede Summary: “Hi,” Isak repeats, and his warm breath fans out over Even’s cheek. “Hi, baby.” Isak’s cheeks flush, and he glances down at Even’s lips, chasing the sound. Baby. * In which Isak really likes kissing Even and Even likes it quite a lot, too.

Join Me? by bashfulisak Summary: Eskild drags Isak out to a club for his 18th birthday and despite Isak's negative thoughts about how the night is going to go, it doesn't go too bad. Especially when he meets a good looking guy in the restroom.

he might give you a look by dobriks Summary: It's for him, those raviolis, it's calling him (or maybe it's just his hunger that's making him imagine things, but whatever) and Isak's stomach is grumbling in anticipation as he extends his hand to grab it– But meets something human shaped instead of feeling the plastic material beneath his fingertips. First of all, what the fuck.

In Vino Veritas by Sabeley ★ Summary: After seven years apart, Isak wakes up to find Even in his bed and a wedding ring on his finger. 

Ring On It by TotallyTinkerbell Summary: roommates!au; Isak's room is the biggest mystery of the kollektiv, and only the guys that Isak hooks up with from time to time, get to see it. Needless to say, Even is jealous.

The Notebook by TotallyTinkerbell ★ Summary: Even notices Isak at the library and gets terribly distracted from the studying that he is meant to do. His notebook slowly fills itself with drawings of the boy rather than with his history notes. Even knows he should just go up to his crush, it’s a crush there is no point denying that, and say hi. 

let me whisper in your ear by grinsekaetzchen (Part 2 of the ‘our favorite parts are what we’ll keep’ series) ★ Summary: In which some of the cast of ‘Romeo and Juliet’ go to Stockholm Comic Con, the fans are loud and Isak manages to find a bit of quiet in-between all that.

You Think You Can Be Quiet, Baby? by Victory4 Summary: Isak think's he'll win a little sexual competition between him and Even, and discovers how truly wrong he is.

Inbox: (1) New Email by eiqhties Summary: A story about falling back in love, one tweet, instagram post and email at a time. 

and when it comes to eating peaches by Misscaitlin_g Summary: Isak moves from his seat, straddles Even’s lap, and whispers in his ear, “I want to lie back on those pillows and for you to lick me all night long.” Or, Isak is spoiled and Even gives him whatever he wants.

let's get physical by cosetties (Part 2 of you better work, bitch series) ★ Summary: Even can't handle yoga at all, but mostly, he can't handle Isak doing yoga in those godforsaken leggings. Maybe his plan to take things slow enough to romance Isak properly didn't take into account Isak himself.

love comes knocking by tarjeiandhenrik Summary: There's a really cute boy living a floor above Isak's flat and throwing up is usually not Isak's ideal first meet but well.

The Same Morning by GayaIsANerd Summary: Morning softness. * The same morning, through both eyes.

You call the shots, babe. by kaleidxscope Summary: uniau; Who the fuck plays an Arctic Monkeys' song at a party? Or: Isak and Even meet on a party and the soundtrack is just on top.

that's what friends are for by dobriks Summary: Even is desperate, Isak likes him, and Jonas listens to both of them rant about each other to him.

Everytime I look into your eyes I feel it by candysky Summary: Isak wasn’t even trying to hide the lust swimming in his eyes at the sight of his boyfriend looking almost criminally hot in his James Dean biker avatar. (Or, A one shot of an eventful day in the lives of Isak and Even where Even surprises Isak by riding up on a Harley, prompting a spontaneous road trip that takes them to interesting places.)

checking (you) out by everythingislove (narrylife) Summary: After being dumped via text, Isak goes on a late night run to the grocery store for some breakup comfort foods. Even is the cute clerk who happens to be working the checkout line.

when it's good by mikaeloboukhal Summary: Life with Even is good. Until it's not.

i was busy thinkin' bout boys (not like i had a choice) by Behindthecities Summary: In which Isak realizes he likes boys, falls for boys, and then ultimately loves a boy (and the boy loves him back). * A character study inspired by "Boys" by Charli XCX.

Tattoo by 6xqb9u004n Summary: Even gets a tattoo.

Blah Blah Blah by 6xqb9u004n Summary: Eskild finds Isak blackout drunk at a gay bar at 2am.

4 times the promises made to isak were broken + 1 time it wasn't by mellowgay Summary: Or, Isak gets in an accident and Even is his doctor.

Right in Front of My Salad by cuteandtwisted ★ Summary: "Let me guess. You're the type of guy who eats salad," said Isak. "Among other things," Even winked. * Or Isak doesn't believe in love until he meets the new cashier at the supermarket who makes him realize that vegetables aren't actually that bad.

feelings that i adore by thekardemomme ★ Summary: neighbors!au; Isak loves Even’s dog, and Even loves Isak. Turns out it’s more mutual than they think.

Peep Show by riyku Summary: This might be the kinkiest thing Isak's ever done, the only kinky thing he's ever done, but he's committed to it by now, and screw it, he's gonna give this guy something worth watching.

the privilege of being yours by toboldlyfly ★ Summary: “You said my nose was cute and squishy!” Isak replies, pouting. “You’re right, I lied. Your nose is the squishiest, and it’s gorgeous. It’s my most favourite thing about you.” Even touches the tip of Isak’s nose, pushing it left and right. He laughs at the face of annoyance Isak is probably making. He always did say that grumpy and pouty Isak was the one he enjoyed the most. * Or, Isak and Even spend a morning in bed together laughing, kissing and falling in love all over again (but what's new about that).

Car fears by sanameskini Summary: What starts with Even trying to calm Isak down after freaking out in the car, ends with Even confessing his own fears.

baby take your teeth out by yellowcurtainss Summary: Isak gets his wisdom teeth removed. Cuddles, cursing, and chaos ensue.

The Brotherhood of the Traveling Crucifixion Shirt by 6xqb9u004n Summary: Eskild had no idea who the hottie in the bathroom was, but he was pretty sure the guy was wearing his shirt. - Eskild meets Even during 3x05.

kjærlighet by thekardemomme ★ Summary: Love letters or suicide notes. (Alternatively: Even finds a love letter Isak wrote to him.)

i feel your energy rushing through me by babygayisak Summary: Isak and Even are soft in a bed on a Sunday afternoon.

The Parking Lot from Hell by dear_ida Summary: Isak loses both his boyfriend and their car in the mall parking lot. Even thinks it's funny. Isak thinks he can suck his own dick.

Baby's First Pride by 6xqb9u004n Summary: “So does this mean you’re ‘gay-gay’ now?” - Eskild helps Isak get ready for his first Pride Parade.

A Glimmer Of Hope Like An Exhale Of Smoke by CupcakeCait Summary: What happened after Isak and Even were caught kissing in the pool.

To Burn With Desire by photographer_of_thoughts ★ Summary: childhood friends!au & neighbors!au; “Um, Even?” “Yeah?” “Do friends kiss other friends?” Isak asked. Even looked amused again. “Sometimes." Or, the AU in which Isak and Even are neighbours and Isak's father has a secret job that unintentionally helps Isak realize he's in love with his best friend.

Can I? by AifaSkam ★ Summary: “Why did you want to get a live portrait?” “Actually, my friends kind of dared me to do it.” says Isak."if you don't want it, can I keep it?"

I call'em as I see'em...But Sometimes I Don't See So Well by HazyCosmicJive Summary: uni!au, Hate to Love!au & roommates!au; Isak just wants to study, he doesn't want a new roommate who walks around naked all the time and constantly tests his patience.

Take Me As I Am by givemesumaurgravy ★ Summary: “I’ve seen you watching me, you know,” Isak breathes as he pauses to bite Even’s shoulder, earning a small gasp from Even. Even groans, low and throaty as Isak runs his tongue over the broken skin. “I’ve seen you staring at me as I coach your daughter. And then today, I noticed you not being able to take your eyes off me while we played on the field,” Isak teases, his tongue lapping up stray droplets that pool on Even’s clavicle. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” “You’re just… so pretty,” Even says through a hitch in his breath as Isak’s fingers brush over his nipples. * Or, the one in which Isak is the coach of Even’s daughter’s football team and Even likes Isak’s bum. One day there’s a parent football game and Isak, just maybe, starts hitting on Even and, just maybe, Even gives in.

i don’t believe in yoga by rose02 Summary: Even Bech Næsheim runs and teaches at Under Vann yoga studio, and Isak Valtersen lost a bet to which the punishment was to go to a yoga class in hot pink yoga pants. Needless to say, this will be an interesting class. Featuring a flustered Isak, and a slightly bitter Even.

Oh baby, let me kiss you by Loveevak Summary: Isak has a crush on Even and gets a chance to sit next to him as an audience at a singing competition in their school.

New Year's Minute by killercatchy Summary: soulmates!au; Alternate universe where you have a timestamp of when you’ll meet your soulmate. The first minute of every year, you spend in your soulmates body. * When Isak is invited to a new years party with the rest of the boys, he hesitates at first. With a timestamp like his, staying home is always the safer option.

And you use it only for me by Skamisako ★ Summary: “Just wait ‘till I tell you how wrong you were about this, Isak!” Even sing-songs making Isak blink a couple of times and then smile bashfully, looking down at his phone again.Even grins to no one in particular as he pushes through the door and decides that making Isak blush will definitely be his favorite hobby from now on. OR: Isak works at a bookstore and Even can't stop buying ridiculous books to make him blush.

i'm not a twink i'm a TWUNK by lovedisak Summary: “What?” Isak interrupts. “Mh?” “I’m a what?” “Oh, a twink is like a young little gay-“ “Yes, I know what a twink is,” Isak rolls his eyes. “Oh,” Eskild goes back to his gingerbread cookie. “Then why did you ask?”

makin' me a mess by itjustkindahappened Summary: fake dating!au; The boy gives him a look of alarm, making a weak attempt at drawing his hand back, but Isak keeps holding it convulsively as he looks pleadingly into the stranger’s eyes. “Listen, this is super humiliating for me but I’m currently getting stood up on a date and my ex is a waiter here and he’s already been walking past my table too many times and looked far too satisfied for it to be casual so can you please just—pretend to be my date or something? I’ll pay for dinner and everything, I’m really sorry about this, I just—please?”

Ready For Those Flashing Lights by ultimatelawrence ★ Summary: It was meant to be harmless: taking a sneak photo of a hot stranger to send to Eva. Expect it's not so harmless when the flash is on.

last night by bbyfruit ★ Summary: fake dating!au; Alright, so Isak is pretty used to waking up hungover in the middle of the afternoon, especially at this point in his seventeen years of living. He’s also pretty used to waking up in Jonas’s bed, usually with Jonas curled up beside him, light that comes in through Jonas’s window and hits Isak right in the face. What he’s not used to is Jonas’s arm slung over his hip and no memory of what the fuck got them to this point.

Hopeless by waitineedaname Summary: fake dating!au; There was no way in hell Isak would be able to talk to Even. He was tall and cool and handsome, and Isak was pretty sure talking to him would make him spontaneously combust. He was hopeless.

first dates by princevaltersen Summary: fake dating!au; Isak asks Even to be his fake date to an engagement party.

might become my lover, for real by evamohns Summary: fake dating!au; It’s Even who finally does it, hooks his finger around Isak’s before turning his hand over and nudging at Isak’s palm with his until they’re holding hands, Isak flexes his fingers in the grasp – still looking at the floor.

Shower Me With... Beer? by EvensDramaticShenanigans Summary: “Um, what… what are you doing?” Isak finally managed to splutter out, his eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched up in confusion.Tall Handsome Stranger paused, his hands stilled around the bunched-up fabric by Isak’s armpits, his stomach now on full display. “Taking your shirt off,” the boy responded as if it were the simplest, most casual sentence that ever left his lips, as if those four words spoken in that smooth, low voice didn’t stir up a whole swarm of butterflies in Isak’s stomach and send a rush of blood south. “It’s drenched- which is my fault, really sorry, I definitely wasn’t looking where I was going- but I’m pretty sure if it’s not already completely uncomfortable, it will be soon if you keep wearing it.”

time isn’t wasted (if you’re getting wasted) by thekardemomme Summary: Isak is the best at holding his liquor, and the best at flirting with hot guys at parties.

respect my existence, if not expect my resistance by kosektivet Summary: A lot changes in a year, for example: Eva finally came out, Eskild got a boyfriend and Isak takes pride in himself now. * Or, a Pride Parade little au thingy.

Even. by bashfulisak Summary: Jonas drags Isak to a party and he meets a good looking third-year named Even.

Bigsby the Matchmaking Cat by smilexdarling Summary: Even owes his future love life with a grumpy kitten-man to a grumpy actual-cat.

Of Missed Classes and Campus Cafes by HazyCosmicJive ★ Summary: uni!au; Isak started the day knowing it was just going to worse. He looked like shit and he felt like shit and then he goes and crashes, no literally crashes, into the most attractive boy he's ever seen, yet the boy doesn't seem so upset about the event .Isak is a hot mess, and Even is just hot.

Imagine Redux by fandomlimb Summary: Even usually has no problem singing in public. He enjoys it, enjoys how karaoke can bring a whole crowded room together, allow strangers to let their guards down and shout at the top of their lungs in off-key unison. But when from the periphery of his vision he sees the door to the bar swing open—letting a beam of sunlight into the room, illuminating the figures of his five ex-best friends—his normally steady voice fails him.

it all works out in time by Valariia Summary: Based on a Humans Of New York story. Isak meets a pretty boy in a club under some unusual circumstances.

Privileged Information by champagneleftie Summary: Valtersen, Isak Valtersen, has been assigned to stake out Even Bech Næsheim. It doesn't quite go according to plan.

love doctor by princevaltersen Summary: co-workers!au; “Looking through Tinder and rating guys in the paediatric unit is definitely something that you shouldn’t be doing at work.”

The Powerhouse of the Cell by colazitron Summary: It's odd, being at Sana's when she and Isak aren't quite friends, but Isak may have found a reason to repeat the experience in Sana's brother's gorgeous friend.

i'm yours by princevaltersen Summary: “I love you, Even. You are the best thing in my life.”

No Flirting in the Science Lab by smilexdarling Summary: co-workers!au; Isak and Even fall in love at school, but this time, they're the teachers.

hurra for deg by colazitron Summary: Isak is a bit off when he and Even join their friends in the park. Sana notices. Or: an episode tag of sorts to Isak and Sana's talk on the bench, and Even and Isak's encounter with a bigot on Isak's birthday.

Why can't forever start today? by skambition ★ Summary: “Since when are you wearing rings?” Jonas pointed to Isak’s left ring finger. “Um,” Isak looked down at his hand, moving his thumb over the simple white gold ring, and couldn’t help but smile, “I actually have something to tell you guys.” “What, did you get married or something?” Magnus blurted out, bursting into laughter with the rest of the guys.

Let's Fall in Love Tonight by smilexdarling Summary: Jonas and Eva aren't the only ones with that loving feeling at their wedding. Who knew donuts and dancing could be so potent?

do you like or like, like me? by cosetties ★ Summary: Isak is totally down for supporting Jonas through the whole liking boys thing, but it's a little hard when that boy is Even.

just a little bit out of my limit by theyellowcurtains Summary: co-workers!au; Isak is pissed about where he got placed for work experience, that is until he meets his fine ass supervisor.

you make my face red and my heart beat by empty_venom Summary: childhood friends!au; Alternatively: 4 Times Isak Asks Even About Hickeys (+1 Time They Get Their Shit Together).

dear, don't you be nervous by chasingflower Summary: fake dating!au; Sometimes, Isak wishes he could just keep his mouth shut. It would solve a lot of his problems. (Or, Isak tells Eskild that he's dating Even, the boy he likes, but hasn't said any more than ten words to. It's not the best situation.)

thoughts of unruly curls and plush lips by reasoniwantyoutostay Summary: Isak and Even get consumed by thoughts of each other before meeting up for the Halloween pre-game. AKA What happened before 21:21.

Can't We Be Sweethearts? by HazyCosmicJive Summary: co-workers!au; In which Isak and Even work at a summer carnival together.

i could not want you more than i did right then by chasingflower ★ Summary: “Isak?” Even calls, sounding faintly amused. Isak groans again in response, and he hears muffled snickering by the door frame. “Any particular reason that you’re on my bed?” Isak groans again. "I’m not moving.” Even moves and sits at the end of his bed, gaze fixed on Isak’s face. “But, as I’ve said, it’s my bed.” “My day was fucked, Even,” Isak whines, and rolls over to give Even a pout. “I’m tired and I don’t want to move. It’s my bed now.”

what a glorious feeling by colazitron Summary: Supposedly kissing in the rain is only good in movies. Isak thinks that's more to do with your partner than the rain.

Oral Fixation by sensualstalker Summary: "He let his fingers wander over Even's cheek bones. He was watching out the window trying to remember what type of clouds he was seeing when he felt a warm sensation on his fingertip. He glanced down and found Even's lips wrapped around it, eyes still closed. When Isak stopped breathing, Even's eyes rolled open and turned to stare up at Isak. He opened, letting Isak take his finger back and now both jaws were gaping." * Or Isak wants to try something new and Even is totally down for it.

Notes by bashfulisak Summary: Even writes Isak little notes for him to see every morning while he has work-and sometimes, roles change.

i guess we should get a room by highpraises ★ Summary: “Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” Even mumbles against Isak’s lips. “Hopefully you will.” * Isak and Even are horrible hosts and friends.

sweet taste of love by toboldlyfly ★ Summary: They're both meme-lords, but this turns Isak on a little. Even likes to make inappropriate noises in public; Isak is chill about this on most days. There is neglect of ice cream, boys in love and sweet sugary kisses.

Nourishing Courage by colazitron Summary: childhood friends!au; Isak somehow finds himself part of the revue and Even helps him practice.

In the Eye of the Beholder by HazyCosmicJive ★ Summary: fake dating!au; After weeks of Even using him as a 'muse' and refusing to let him see it Isak is attending Even's first art exhibit. And to make it all worse he's going as his fake boyfriend, which wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't hopelessly in love with him.

Woo Me With Your Words by obscurial Summary: coffee shop!au; It’s not very often that Isak finds the confidence within himself to approach a handsome guy in a café. (A coffee shop au in which Even is Isak's favourite author.)

this room and everything in it by thekardemomme Summary: Even’s loved Isak for about as long as they’ve been together. It hasn’t been that long, but it’s everything, and Even needs to say it.

Morning Activities by bashfulisak ★ Summary: Even wants his coffee - Isak is sorta in his way - but Isak makes an offer.

The Kitchen Cupboards by dear_ida Summary: Even has a thing about leaving cupboard doors open. Isak thinks it's cute. They dance a bit.

fundamentals of being a wannabe creative media and communication person by greitnok Summary: A glimpse of pretentious film student Even and his supportive (questionable at times) but grumpy boyfriend Isak's daily lives.

it's kind of a funny story by dobriks Summary: "This is so weird" the guy said in an apologetic tone, "But– I, hm, can I use your bathroom?" "What?"

Boys In Photographs by stories_and_dreams ★ Summary: Isak and Even are mesmerized by the beautiful boy they see in Eva's photographs.

For next day will a stranger bring by lovelycarcass Summary: coffee shop!au; On Tuesdays, without fail, Isak's first customer orders a drink at the café, gives a name and leaves. He never uses the same name twice.

His, forever by TeaHouseMoon Summary: "What are you hungry for, then?" Even stares back. "You. I'm hungry for you."

Come and paint the world with me tonight by LostInAdmiration ★ Summary: fake dating!au; "If he had been smart and sober enough to say no, he wouldn’t be stood in a church he definitely shouldn’t be in, wearing a suit that was far too tight and a rainbow coloured bow-tie."

the time it took by Joana789 ★ Summary: Isak kept looking at him, kept seeing what it was like to be proud. What it was like to be yourself. Or Five people who taught Isak how to love.

CHAPTERED:

latching onto you by Behindthecities ★ Summary: fake dating!au; In which model!Isak and director!Even get caught drunkenly making out with each other by the paparazzi at the club and the only solution to it is to pretend to be each other’s boyfriends.

Date? by frenc Summary: Even has a date on Sunday. And he asks his best friend Isak for help.

All We Do by milk_o_vich Summary: The boy – who Isak had never seen before – was beautiful. Isak had often seen boys and thought that they looked hot; thought about kissing them or hooking up with them; had seen his fair share of porn to know that he liked looking at boys and liked fantasising about them. But he’d never seen a boy and thought he looked beautiful before. A.k.a. an au where Even is a penetrator and Isak meets him in his first year at Nissen.

Cut and Rewind by allyasavedtheday ★ ✓ Summary: “Now. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?” Even swallows around the bitter tang in his throat and settles for the shortest version of his medical history that he can possibly pin down. “I’m bipolar. I was diagnosed with depression first when I was seventeen since the symptoms were more noticeable. But in February of last year I got my proper diagnosis after I had a major manic episode. One of the biggest triggers was my struggle with my sexuality. I slipped into a severe depressive episode afterwards and missed so much school that I ended up dropping out.” He recites it like lines from a script, like if he’s detached enough the words won’t really be about him. It doesn’t make them any easier to push out though. * Season 4 from Even’s point of view.

and it falls just where it needs to be by mmxii Summary: summer camp!au & co-workers!au; He’s only been back for seven minutes, but Isak is already so done. Or an au where Isak works at a campsite and there’s suddenly a new guy joining their team. Featuring a completely chill Isak, a suspiciously quiet cat, and a three-year-old asking way too many difficult questions.

Not Everything Is About You by HazyCosmicJive Summary: Hate to Love!au & roommates/neighbors!au; Isak hates his neighbor. He's loud, he's inconsiderate, and he's loud. When he finally gets a well deserved break from his obnoxious neighbor, somehow the asshole ends up flooding his entire apartment. He doesn't want to do it, but with nowhere else to go he ends up taking the guy's offer up and staying with him until his apartment is useable again.

Viva Las Vegas by ahana Summary: They say what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Of course, with Isak’s luck, what happens in Vegas kicks his ass and follows him back to Oslo.

If You Don't Love Me, Don't Tell Me by quickwitlips Summary: uni!au & Hate to Love!au; Even's two sided personality is what drives Isak's hatred towards him. An asshole frat boy at night while he parties, then a top student by day who charms everyone with his bright smile. Except, Isak doesn't believe that Even has any good intentions.

You're a different kind of new by LostInAdmiration ★ ✓ Summary: "But that still didn’t explain why Even was currently standing in a crowded house with the boy of his dreams pressed up against his side and a girl stood in front of them, looking bewildered as Isak told the girl excitedly how he and Even had met." (Even has had a hopeless crush on Isak for months now, but has never been brave enough to talk to him. Luckily, Isak decides to make the first move by rescuing Even from unwanted attention at a party.)

Not A Chance by bashfulisak Summary: Isak and Even don't know much about each other - but while in the cafeteria, they can't keep their eyes off each other and eventually they can't keep their hands off, either.

relax, i've got you by thekalk ★ Summary: childhood friends!au; "Isak’s too proud to admit it out loud but his ankle is actually in pain ‒ it's nothing too bad but it definitely is hurting. Fortunately, Even plays along and pretends that he didn’t see Isak’s pained expression for Isak’s ‒ or more likely his pride’s ‒ sake and instead he leans down and presses a light kiss on the exposed skin on his ankle. Isak freezes at the touch of Even’s lips on his skin. This is definitely something new in their friendship." Or: a childhood best friends AU where Isak is oblivious and Even has a catchphrase.

helium hearts (we're on fire) by itjustkindahappened Summary: 10 Things I Hate About You!AU. Eva enrolls at Hartvig Nissens VGS in Oslo and falls headfirst for the popular and pretty Vilde Lien. Vilde, however, is not allowed to date until Isak—her sarcastic, misantropic introvert of a step brother—does. Together with her new group of friends, Eva comes up with a plan to set Isak up with the school's rumor-ridden bad boy Even Bech Næsheim so she can take her crush out. Featuring stargazing, parties, and endless pining.

Kiss Me Through the Phone by babenaesheim Summary: wrong number!au; He's been having a rough day, okay? His teacher yelled at him for 20 minutes straight in front of the entire class, his friends cancelled yet again, he got another detention, and he's so fucking horny. He hasn't gotten laid in a good few weeks and that's considered a dry spell for Isak.So yeah, it may be pathetic of him, but when he pulled up the guy he hooked up withs number from a month ago, he has no shame sending him a little text after ghosting him. Attached was quite a raunchy photo, you could say. * Wrong number AU where Isak is bored and hits up an old hook up. Turns out it's not who he was thinking.

Lights, Camera, Action by Sabeley ★ ✓ Summary: Isak is a porn star. Even is the sexually frustrated director that has to film him.

Snapback Glam by AltEr1212 Summary: Eskild is a postgraduate media and communications student at UIO. Even is a third year media and communications student at UIO. Even is friends with Eskild and has a class with him. Isak is Eskild's flat mate and first year bio chem major at UIO. Eskild convinces Isak to be his makeup model for his new beauty guru youtube channel. This leads Isak on a journey of being his true self and discovering his great love, Even.

Therefore I Am by smokeshop ★ Summary: uni!au; The one thing Isak wants is to move on from his high school mistakes. Even spends his time pining after a boy who will never like him back. The last thing either of them expect is to wind up in bed together, but that's exactly what happens.

To Share in Castle Walls by boxesofflowers & Eeyoreneedsahug Summary: royalty!au; Isak is still the heir to the throne of one of the most powerful nations in the world, only now it looks like he might actually live to see his reign. It’s still overwhelming, but now his boyfriend (Even, the one that makes him smile) helps keep him afloat. The problem(s)? Isak is more of a mess than he thought. And so is his country. * Sequel to Headed Straight for the Castle. 

Rentboy by carmenG Summary: Isak met Even through rentboy.com. He quickly learned that Even wasn't really a rentboy. Little did he know that his perfect boyfriend is also the future owner of Nasheim Corp., which is about to buy the Valtersens, his family business. A story about love and hate, misunderstandings and communications.

You Were My Sweetest Downfall by givemesumaurgravy Summary: Every morning, Isak reads through the twenty or so pages of medical reports and articles about him and the ‘accident’, and then he’ll get to that final page that reads: “Don’t forget him, please, please don’t forget him.” And below these words scribbled hastily in his own writing, is a picture of a young, lanky, blonde boy with piercing eyes and dimples smiling at him like he’s the best thing in the world. Under the picture are seven words that never cease to break Isak’s heart every morning all over again. “This is Even, and you love him.”

is it gravity, or are we falling in love? by mellux Summary: coffee shop!au & co-workers!au; Isak works at a coffee shop. There's two things he loves about the morning shift: 1, how beautiful the city is when it's sleeping and 2, avoiding the hot guy who he happens to have a crush on. Until one faithful day, he has no choice but to work with his crush.

Strangers by mehsarah Summary: Even creates a temporary home in a motel room for a stranger. Isak is lost and broken and doesn't know what to think of the stranger who is his new roommate.

lost lullabies by ourlovelybones Summary: Isak meets Even in the laundry room of his best friend’s apartment, yelling at the dryer with barely a kroner to his name, at 2 in the morning. He finally returns back to his apartment, it’s 11:59 and he’s in love. Or the how-to guide for "how to stop my heart from breaking over someone who was never mine".

Baby Got Back(Stroke) by koolranchkidz Summary: swimming!au; AU Where Even's the top swimmer on his last season, and Isak's the dark horse who's just been bumped up an age group and is ready to give Even a run for his money.

Blood vs. Water by bri_ness Summary: Survivor!au; In which Snakesak plays Survivor.

Wish You Were Mine by cuteandtwisted ★ Summary: “You’re after my heart, aren’t you?” said Even, leaning against the bar counter. “I thought we had already established that,” Isak smiled. Or Even is Isak's favorite bartender and there's some mutual pining involved.

Crystal Dust by Liolny Summary: soulmates!au & uni!au; “Right. Some advice for the future -” His eyes were glinting with something that could almost be described as playfulness but nonetheless screamed mystery. “Since I’m assuming you’re not some kind of MARVEL character” he paused “- looking through my head to see that clock,” he continued, pointing a thump over his shoulder, “is probably not gonna happen. I’m also sure your MacBook is more than capable of informing you about the time.” Isak was startled to say the least. He also just so happened to be the last person to be mocked by anybody, no less some arrogant prick, who thought he could just be smug in Isak’s face without consequences. Or: Even Bech Næsheim is a mystery and apparently there is no way in hell that he could be Isak's soulmate.

Strip My Fears Away by wtfidekgtfo Summary: Even has finally found a job after desperate searches. He has accepted the offer to be a bartender at a strip club. He's only new there, but apparently he isn't the only one...

i fall to pieces when im with you by Valariia Summary: In which Mikael insists on getting a third roommate, Even has a crush, and Isak is a beautiful nerd.

your hand in mine by ourheartsintertwined Summary: Isak's nothing but a rich kid with one too many maids, a bitchy attitude, and a spoiled way of living. Even is a drug dealer who's been raised in the hood his whole life, has one too many tattoos and owns a motorcycle. One day, they cross paths. And the rest, well, that's something.

Let‘s Pretend by wematch Summary: fake dating!au; Isak has been trying to get rid of Emma for weeks, luckily for him Even has a plan.

Heaven In Hiding by intothewind ★ Summary: Isak is the preacher's son and Even comes to town looking like every one of the seven sins. Or: the small town, football, preacher's son au.

Honest, Can You See My Soul? by poetichomo Summary: “Yousef has a friend who’s a cuddler.” And if Isak was confused before, he’s beyond confused now. “What does that even mean?” “He’s a professional cuddler. It helps him make a little money on top of his coffee shop job. I could give him your number?” Yousef looks so sincere, but the sleep deprivation combined with the ridiculous proposal have Isak speechless. “He’s serious, Isak. And Even’s nice, you’d probably like him.” Isak thinks he sees a small smirk on her face, but isn’t sure. “If this is some elaborate plan to fuck with me while I’m emotionally compromised, just know that I don’t appreciate it.” Sana laughs. “Nei, Isabel. We’re not messing with you. Just wait, this is going to be better than anything Jonas and Eva could have come up with, I promise.” “Fine, sure. I’ll try it.” * OR a Professional Cuddler AU.

Thin Walls by night_in_hell ★ Summary: neighbors!au; 'It wasn't as though Even was really accustomed to the telltale signs of crying, but- yeah he was accustomed to the telltale signs of crying. He played with the idea that it was just a movie playing too loudly next door, or perhaps he yearned for it to be, hoped it wouldn't be someone suffering in the dead of night, but the scene would've been so long, and there was no actor that talented, no one that could wholly fake those sobs.' Or Even and Isak are neighbors and some thin walls bring the two together in ways neither really could've expected.

Boy with a Basket of Fruit by Fxckxxp ★ ✓ Summary: Isak is a third-year architecture student studying abroad in Rome, Italy when he meets Even—a triple major and a triple threat. He’s handsome. He’s smart. And he’s charming as hell with the right amount of weird mixed in. Isak’s intrigued, but he doesn’t want to like him—he actually came to Rome to quite literally run away from his relationship problems back home. But the heart wants what the heart wants, even if Isak attempts to ignore it. He tries to listen to the universe. It’s throwing all the signs to just stay away right in his face, but for some reason, it’s also throwing him right into Even’s arms at every turn. So he tortures himself. He doesn’t make a move. They can be just friends, after all. Until they can’t.

I'll Wait For You by photographer_of_thoughts ✓ Summary: "I'll wait until you're ready," Even said, but Isak didn't know if he would ever be ready. The AU in which Isak and Even didn't get a chance to save each other at Nissen. But time is a funny thing.

If only. by GH1999 Summary: co-workers!au; Isak fucked up. Totally, completely, royally screwed up. His application for an internship should have been sent two days ago. The university of Oslo had sent him an email, asking whether he had already applied, and if not, that he could not continue at UiO. Or: Isak starts teaching at the Hartvig Nissen School and finds that he has a very handsome co-worker.

Blanket Fort Gospel by Sabeley ★ ✓ Summary: childhood friends!au;  Isak Valtersen met the love of his life when he was eleven years old. It was a truth he had long tried to deny, but it was the truth nevertheless.

Solo by iceandfire Summary: uni!au & secret admirer!au; Isak and Even meet in slightly different circumstances, but a lot of things stay exactly the same.

Don't Hold Your Breath by bechvaltersen Summary: Isak hates how he feels about Even, knows it could possibly ruin his friendship forever if he was to ever find out. But he doesn't ever wonder, what if Even feels the same?

the price of starting over by smalltownmotel Summary: neighbors!au & co-workers!au; Even lives above Isak. Isak hates loud noises. Even loves throwing loud parties.

It's getting hot in here by suckmyboardbxtch ✓ Summary: AU in which Isak is drooling over a hot Even, who is working out at the gym with the Balloon-Squad. 

snapshots of a scattered heart by chevythunder Summary: roommates!au; Isak knows he's being thought of as nothing other than roommate, friend and listener. He's fine with it. He is.

We Found the Stars by Sabeley ★ ✓ Summary: Each year, Isak's father, a world renowned screenwriter, invites one promising young filmmaker to spend the summer in Italy with him and his family. It had never been anything more than a nuisance to Isak—until the arrival of Even Bech Næsheim. Suddenly, Isak finds himself drawn into a whirlwind summer romance that will change his life forever. Or a modern Call Me by Your Name AU.

The boy next door by Zabn Summary: neighors!au; Isak looks at Jonas, hoping the blush has already disappeared from his cheeks, he nervously scratches his neck. Fuck, did Jonas notice that he was staring at his new neighbor? “Are you daydreaming or what? I asked if there's someone new moving in.” Jonas laughs a little and nods towards the neighbor house.

+ All the fics featured in our Skam Fic Rec Week post under my name!

–A

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #80

oh wow, sorry for the inactivity ya’ll.  been busy with moving and no internet...

is your hair damaged?   no, it's very healthy, actually.  people love my hair, makes me feel amazing tbh ;;u;; who was the last person you threw out of your life?    um idk really.  i rarely throw people out... i believe in fixing relationships.  most, realistically, are salvageable. how many hours did you sleep last night?   like... none. e_e has someone disappointed you recently?   yes.  a friend was acting rather immature last night. do you prefer hot or cold weather?   COLD COLD COLD are you afraid of roller coasters?   yup. are you shy?   VERY!!! do you hate it when you go over to someone’s house and do absolutely nothing?   no, so long i have my phone or laptop. what color is the hair of the last person you kissed?   black does the last person you kissed wear glasses?   nope you’re on your way home from a night out, and you’re sure someone is following you. what do you do?   drive to the nearest police station. what colors of mascara have you worn on your lashes?   only black what color ARE your lashes?   black what font do you usually use?   a small version of arial or garamond. do you put gel or mousse in your hair?   i do not. ever used to have an imaginary friend?   no actually. ever used a dreamcatcher? if so, did it work?   nope. ever took ballet, jazz, or tap dancing classes?   jazz, hip hop, clogging, modern... wear a specific necklace every day?   i do not. are you an affectionate person?   very. what is something you are proud of?   graduating in the highest tier of my graduating class. time of day you were born?   11:20 A.M., i think. are you a boy or girl?   girl how do you want to die?   idk, really.  some pretty painless way. ever made out in the bathroom?   no. are you scared of spiders?   most. do you have piercings? how many?   yes, two in each earlobe.  i've HAD many more, buuut... long story. want any more?   yep.  labret on lip, snake eyes on tongue, right side of nose, more on my ears... have you ever been on a horse?   i have. have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?   i have, much to my dismay. do you believe your most recent ex thinks about you?   doubt it. ever been to alaska?   i wish! what’s your zodiac sign?   aquarius do you like subway?   ye what is your least favorite color?   brown or like, puke green. do you like to read?   not anymore, no. what’s something you’re really passionate about?   m e e r k a t s ! ! ! ever been bitten by a snake?   nope a spider?   not to my knowledge ever had a job? if so, what and for how long?   two, yes.  gamestop sales clerk for like a month.  dollar general cashier for legit four days lmao. ever won yourself a stuffed animal?   sure ever had someone else win you a stuffed animal?   i think. do you like lollipops or suckers?   yeah, sure. favorite fruit?   strawberries favorite vegetable?   broccoli favorite meat?   chicken do you drink energy drinks?   nope. ever used crest white strip?   no, but i'd like to. do you want to cut your hair?    i need it trimmed. do you have any scars?   shin and chin is your profile private?   my facebook one?  yes. what artist do you have the most songs for in your itunes/music library?   ozzy osbourne or metallica what’s your blood type?   a- do people ever say your name wrong? how do they say it?   no.  it's such a common name, so. which do you like better, biographies or autobiographies?   autobiographies, imo. do you think that your parents give you a lot of freedom?   even at 21, no. which do think is classier, black clothes or white clothes?   black have you ever seen a ghost? explain:   idk.  i KNOW i've seen some inhuman entity walking on all fours once before, but idk if it was truly a "ghost" do you like oatmeal?   eh, i'm picky.  can't have too much milk, i'll tell ya that for sure. are any of your friends in a band?   no. what is the worst food experience you’ve had?   eating brussel sprouts omg never again do you know how to tap dance?   i know how to clog.  same thing, just different shoes for a different sound effect. what’s your favorite flavor of skittles?   RED OMG when was the last time you used oil pastels?   high school art class do you know who edward gein is?   hmmmm... wasn't he some serial killer or even a satanist, something along those lines?  name sounds familiar.  think there's a character in the silent hill franchise in his name. if pot was finally legalized, what would you do?   idk if it's legal in nc, but anyway, i still wouldn't do it. do you like sitting on the inside or outside of a restaurant booth?   inside do you prefer an automatic or a manual transmission?   automatic who is your favorite disney character?   not sure, maybe mufasa. if you’re staying home all day, do you bother getting changed or do you just stay in your pajamas?   stay in pajamas. if you don’t drive - how come? if you do - how old were you when you got your license?   i have my permit, but i don't drive much because of anxiety.  i am a nervous wreck, and i'm not comfortable endangering other's lives. have you ever caught a tadpole?   ye. (: what kind of dog would you get if you could choose any breed?   right now, a chow chow. how often do you listen to rap?   like never. do you have the boobs to work at hooters?   boobs, maybe, but not the body.  granted, i'm only a d because of my weight.  when i wasn't overweight, i was a c. are you wearing a ring, if so who gave it to you?   yes, and my mama. if someone of importance checked your profile, would you be embarrassed?   what profile, my facebook?  not really. has anyone ever told you “forever”?   AND YET HE'S NOT HEEEEEREEEEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! :D which is harder - walking in the snow or sand?   sand, omg. do you like sour candy?   YEAH in one word, how would you describe your best friend?   honest. is there a song that reminds you of your best friend?   "friends" by... i think it's blake shelton?  she's established that's "our song," which i think is so cute. ;w; what's annoying you right now? even just a little bit counts.   okay so a friend from high school was talking to me via facebook last night, and he just... did something that REALLY got under my skin.  first let my say that in high school, he admitted to liking me.  i liked him as a friend; i hadn't known him long enough to really establish an "i like-like you" attitude yet.  well, we drifted apart, not that there was ever anything much holding us together.  anyway, he and i were messaging each other for a very short period of time when he asked me if i was seeing anybody, said no, then he asked if i liked him, and i was just like... uhhhh... no???  bc i haven't seen him since high school???  sooo tell me how i would have any valid feelings???  and more importantly, tell me how he'd have valid feelings for ME after so long???  idk, it just honestly pissed me off because it made me feel like he was after an easy piece of meat with no emotional connection.  he hasn't messaged me back yet, and i, frankly, don't care if he does or doesn't. have you ever painted a car?   no are you gonna buy lottery tickets when you’re old enough?   no.  the worth isn't there, imo. have you ever been into a real cave?   oh, i wish!! have you ever posted mean comments on youtube?   oh i can say with certainty i have as a pre-teen.  i was an obnoxious lil shit when i first started actively using the internet. what was the main subject of your last telephone conversation?   i was telling mom i was throwing up, so my anxiety was bad. have you ever kissed someone who has previously kissed someone you hated?   yup. what exactly did you drink the last time you were intoxicated?   mike's hard, i think. do you think the next person you kiss will be a better kisser than the last person you kissed?   impossible. is your all-time favorite television show still on air?   i wish, but no. are looks important in a relationship?   very!!  very!!  slightly!!!!  i believe emotional chemistry is incalcuably more important, but simultaneously, having a physical attraction to your partner is something that increases your connection.  i used to not believe this and you probably don't either, but ponder over it for a while.  it does hold slight weight. do you believe in love at first sight?   absolutely not, it's rubbish to believe you can "love" somebody just by fucking looking at them.  the idea is laughable. do you ever want to get married?   i do. do you shower every day?   no, that's horrible for your skin.  i shower every two days. have you ever experienced unrequited love?   yes and tbh i'd rather die have you ever written a song or poem for someone?   poems, yes. what’s the most superficial characteristic you look for?   i don't actively look for it, but hmmm... i'd say decent/healthy teeth. who are five people you find attractive?   1.) link neal is actually daddy; 2.) jason/my ex; 3.) adam levine ain't bad; 4.) chris hemsworth; 5.) oh my actual god i almost forgot mark fischbach/markiplier what's your profile picture?   i'mma cover for... almost everywhere.  this tumblr: me; main tumblr: link neal; facebook: me; km rpg: rhett mclaughlin laughing; deviantart: my oc what's your dad's name?   kenneth, but everyone just calls him "ken" do you still have feelings for an ex?   very strong ones do you like the rain?  ye!! what is your favorite fruit flavor?   strawberry which two friends can you see together as a couple?  idk, i don't really "ship" my friends what was the happiest moment in your life?   dancing to "stairway to heaven" with jason on prom night, in my front yard, in the headlights of his old truck. would you be brave enough to spend an entire hour alone in a cemetery?   yeah. got a phobia you want to share?  whale sharks.  lmao. how many places have you traveled to? name them.   new york, michigan, florida, ohio, tennessee, virginia... who are the 3 greatest living musicians?  oh god.  errr ozzy osbourne, otep shamaya, james hetfield. what’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever been?   michigan do you feel like a leader or a follower?   i'm a follower, usually. if you had to live in a different state, what would it be?   utah would you rather win an olympic medal, an academy award or the nobel peace prize?   nobel peace prize what is the scariest movie you’ve ever seen?  "the rite" scared me ONLY bc i am horrified by the idea of being raped by a demon, nevermind satan what is your favorite thing about the beach?   the shells and starfish! what’s the worst thing you did as a kid?   i hit my little sister multiple times would you ever donate blood?   i have before, but idk if i would again.  it was so stress-inducing. do you wear hats?   no. have you ever seen your best friend cry?   i have. have you ever been a vegetarian?   nope. do you find lube pointless for regular old intercourse (not anal)?   yeah, honestly.  if you're technically turned on, your body pretty much takes care of it? which sex position would you find more awkward: anal or some really crazy vaginal intercourse position (check wikipedia if you can’t think of any crazy ones)?   anal will always be weirder to me. do you ever wear temporary tattoos as an accessory?    no. when was the last time you had a panic attack?   two nights ago what’s your favorite color to wear?   black.  it's a flattering color. clay, crayons, markers, pastels, charcoal, or paint?   pastels have you ever broken anything because you were mad?   no are you ticklish?   yup. why were you last hospitalized?   i tried to kill myself. do you prefer baked potatoes or mashed potatoes?   baked.  mashed is gross. do you like bread sticks?   omg you have no idea what state were you born in?   north carolina have you ever been to an art gallery?   sure. do you have the same political views as your parents?   most, yes. what are you listening to?   a jim gaffigan stand-up if you could make your lips bigger, would you?   IF i could just snap my fingers and it's be that way, maybe.  i'd have to look in the mirror again lol are you one to sneak food into movie theaters?   sure am. what’s the funniest commercial?   omg the sexy mr. clean one bc i CRY do you own any form of a gameboy?   we have three.  i think two are broken, though. what’s your favorite store in the mall?   hottopic. have you ever seen a cat with blue eyes?   ... yes? would you be embarrassed to buy pads/tampons/condoms? which one more?   never bought condoms before, so i can't really say, but pads/tampons, nah man.  periods are just a totally natural part of life for a woman, nothing to be embarrassed about. if you were looking for a new pair of shoes where would you go?   hot topic is preferable what color is the computer/laptop you’re on? did you buy it yourself?   it's black, but it has a pink zebraprint cover on it.  and no, it's my older sister's technically, but now it's mom's. do you have a second home?   not anymore. does the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer repulse you?   all of them.  the worst is weed though, oh my GOD it stinks. was the last person you kissed younger or older than you?   two years older. how often do you drink monster?   never.  it's nasty. have you ever made totally pointless videos with your friends?   you forgot to mention cringey.  oh, the pre-teen years. do you own a nightgown?   no. have you ever worn fishnets?   for dance, probably.  i'm not sure. is someone in your family affected by asperger’s?   no. would you rather go out to eat or be eaten out?   *CHOKES ON DRINK* do you always wear your seat belt?   always! are there any diseases/health problems that run in your family?   welp.  here goes.  high blood pressure, high cholesterol, diabetes, asthma, depression, bipolarity, cancer is in question, and i can guarantee i'm forgetting some... do you have asthma?   no.  my mother and grandmother do, though. last person to take off your pants, besides you?   jason might you enjoy hanging out in the woods for day or two?   so long i can bring my camera! do you have a bull ring through your nose?   no.  thought about it, though. do you and your dad get along?   yep. can you see your purse right now?   indeed. when you get colds, do you use nasal spray to help get your nose unstuffy?   yes.  i have allergies, so i sometimes use it even when i don't have a cold. do you actually like sneezing?   ... does anyone? do you wear skirts a lot?   i haven't worn a skirt in years. how many pairs of jeans do you think you have?   i have no jeans.  just yoga pants and sweatpants... are you one of those people who claim to live with no regrets?   hell no. do you love your computer?   yes ;-; do you shop mostly with your parents, your friends, or by yourself?   with mom. do you like zombie movies?   no particular opinion. what’s the grossest/worst thing you’ve ever seen in a public restroom?   saw an old lady puke on the floor once when i was little.  scarred me for life. x-what’s the worst relationship advice you’ve ever seen?   this was never told to me, but to my mother: let your husband be your head/be very submissive to everything he wants.  fuck that. have you ever volunteered in a hospital? if not, would you ever want to?   no no no no no no no. have you ever had to give a pet away?   cats, yes. did you play pretend a lot as a child? were there any recurring plots or themes?   oh definitely.  and i don't think so... has a teacher ever tried to teach you something that was undeniably wrong?   oh, you mean like evolution? have you ever meditated? if so, did it do anything for you?   not the whole "ooohhhmmm" deal, but yeah.  it only stressed me out. are any of your favorite bands broken up or on hiatus right now?   ozzy osbourne- probably metallica- no otep- no marilyn manson- i don't believe so rammstein- no cradle of filth- don't know a day to remember- no what kind of wild animals do you see most frequently where you live?   besides birds, squirrels.  occasionally a possum at night. do you have any physical photo albums?   sure do. do your parents and grandparents get along with each other?   dad loves his dad, mom loves her mom, but she pisses her off and offends her a lot. do you have a favorite hoodie?   the one i'm wearing now!  it's dark gray with pikachu sleeping on it and it says "current mood." :3 do you have a twitter?   it exists, but i never, ever use it. is anyone in your family artistic?   besides me, my cousin is. what do you want to do after high school?   after high school, i went to a community college very briefly.  quit.  took a break.  went to a university.  quit. are you emo/gothic/punk?   eh. would you date someone 20 years older than you?   definitely not.

[naamahdarling]

I mean, even if we concede that there is no artistic value in the majority of what gets posted under those tags (it’s TAGGED! so you don’t have to SEE it!) that doesn’t mean that it is right to purge the content.

You can object all you want on moral grounds, but attempting to actually get the fucking FBI or whatever involved to shut down AO3 because you are understandably squicked out by that sort of content is beyond the pale, all right?  I don’t like a lot of it either, I truly don’t.  But there is no legal basis for it, and there is a very good reason for that.  Because the minute we start letting people make subjective legal choices about what is and is not art and therefore worthy of preservation, we put ourselves, all of us, at the mercy of people who fucking hate us.  

Censorship doesn’t just come for the shitty fics and the titillating stories about rape and incest and bestiality.  Censorship comes for everything.  And the things it will come for first are things written by women and queer people and brown people, they will come after the material that we use to educate young people about safer sex and pregnancy and safer drug use, they will come after material that tells us how our own bodies work.  This is not alarmist.  This is demonstrable fucking fact.  It has happened repeatedly and it has happened everywhere, in every nation on earth, because everywhere there are people, people are willing to let libraries burn if there is even one thing in there they think is morally wrong.

To you and I, there is a very clear line between those things and gross incest fic.  But the law��is a blunt instrument, the law does not distinguish.  So if we are to maintain space for the stuff that is good, we must also accept that that space is going to contain some things that are not good, and the price of protecting one is protecting the other.

I live in a red state where, when I was about the same age as a lot of the people trying to take down AO3, a movie rental clerk was detained and harassed and intimidated by police into divulging a list of people who had rented an award-winning movie about the horrors of the fucking Nazis that one person, one person, had reported and described to police as child porn.  One. Person.  It was an Oscar-award-winning movie, took the grand prize at Cannes, and has been widely critically praised, as was the book it was based on. The sequence in question was filmed carefully, the actor’s parents and no extra crew were on set for every rehearsal and all the filming, and he was not harmed.  One judge found it obscene, though. The police raided six video stores, an undetermined number of private homes, and a goddamn library, rounded up the videos, and destroyed them.  It was disgusting.

So I’m not talking out my ass.  Shit like this is stupid, and it sets a dangerous precedent.

I personally would rather there be five hundred disgusting fics that enrage and trigger me than there be none, but I’ve lost the things that are good and that I do like.  If you are looking for this stuff, grinding your teeth over the number of things in a tag, if you are hate reading, you need to stop.  You need to take care of yourself and get the fuck out of your own head for a while.  Go do something cleansing.  Go do something that builds you up.  Scream, cry, beat a pillow, I don’t care how you do it, but go be kind to yourself, and quit looking at things that make you angry.  This is not helping you.  And even if you won this fight, which there is no chance of, it’s not going to undo whatever was done to you.

You reblogged a post that said "the only harm [non-photographic child porn] can do is if you read it" and I think that's an irresponsible view for an author to hold. Fiction does affect reality, or good minority representation wouldn't be important, Birth of a Nation wouldnt have led to a resurgence in the KKK, etc. Writers have an obligation to keep in mind what kind of impact their work will have on the people who read it, and normalizing sexual relationships with children is harmful.

Really? You think I haven’t thought about this issue? Is a story about recovery or dealing with trauma, is that “normalizing sexual relationships with children”? Should that be forbidden? Is that harmful? Should someone trying to deal with their own trauma by writing fiction that addresses it directly, should that be forbidden because it’s harmful? 

Should I write only the sunniest, most proper fiction that never mentions anything disturbing or awful just in case some reader, somewhere, takes it as normalizing that awful? Is it my job to purge my work of anything that some kid, somewhere, might take in a way I didn’t intend and maybe be messed up by? Fuck no. Because let’s be 100% clear here, you actually can’t entirely predict what a reader will take away from a piece.  One does one’s best. And I can’t tell another writer what to write, I can only tell them to be sure they mean to write what they write. 

And the problem here is the sweeping condemnation of, what, the number of fics with particular tags? Seriously? As if it’s that simple?

Are you absolutely sure that every work tagged “pedophilia” on AO3 is wankfodder? Every one? None of them are stories where characters experience and process it, or just talk about it? None of them are stories where the authors are trying to process their own experiences? It’s never permissible to even mention pedophilia, lest someone be influenced wrongly? Should survivors never talk about or fictionalize their experiences? Really?

Do not lecture me on the responsibilities of authors–I have thought long and hard on the issue, and have come to the very considered conclusion that I have no interest in purity tests.  Rape is bad, but not all stories about rape are bad. Racism is bad but not all stories about racism are bad. Pedophilia is bad but…you get the picture. Just saying “look at all these fics tagged “pedophilia” AO3 is doing a bad thing hosting them!” is so incredibly stupid I just don’t know where to begin. Are some of those fics toxic? Surely. Pretty  much every other tag has toxic fics in it, too. Are all of them? I seriously have my doubts.  

I am prepared to say that adults having sex with kids is bad, no nuance. I am NOT prepared to say that any fic about that topic is unambiguously bad. Because that’s not true.

I’m not in the business of telling people what to read or what to write. And you can take your list of things people somehow can’t write about because they’re bad and fuck all the way off.

[a-timeless-love]

Scorpion 3x13: Faux Money Maux Problems

Quintis is such a fucking couple!!!

They‘re planning their wedding!

Namely looking at wedding venues.

They were awake all the previous night “in a wedding venue rabbit hole.”

They don’t care where they get married, as long as they say their I dos. They just want to get married. Toby would marry Happy in Kovelsky’s parking lot, if he had to!

The word “fiancé” fits so perfectly in his mouth talking about Happy.

They’re enjoying goofing off and drinking wine at the vineyard, Crooning Crane.

Toby’s just chugging down wine!

 Happy holds Toby’s hand.

And grabs him and kisses him passionately!

They kiss, not in the beginning or end of the episode but in the middle!

Smiling at him, Happy asks Toby to “go to the barrel shed” with her.

Walking fast, he says, “The booze must be affecting my receptors. I had no idea you were feeling frisky.” She tells him, “shut up, you idiot.”

Happy suggests they tie the knot at Crooning Crane, but Toby can’t afford his half. So, they can’t get married there.

Crooning Crane just didn’t feel right for them.

Also, they’re going halves on their wedding?!

Toby stopped gambling, but that doesn’t mean he stopped owing people money. It’s like student debt, except he makes payments to the “University of Bruno.” Is he going to get in trouble with someone he owes money to?

Happy admits to Toby she has a problem.

She’s collected five figures worth of rare motorcycle parts. She has at least $10,000 worth of “junk” in her trunk!

Happy opens up to Toby!!!

This honesty.

I don’t need Toby to almost die anymore. I’m good.

This was the best episode for Quintis of the season! It gave me all the Quintis I’ve wanted all season!!!!!

When Paige was little, her mom used to use her to help con people! In one blast from the past, Paige helped her mom out with a con by distracting a woman away from her valuables, long enough for Veronica to steal them, by saying she got separated from her mom in a park. Veronica,

Paige and her mom are stuck together, alone, forcing them to have a heart-to-heart.

In response, Veronica fakes a heart attack.

My feelings about Veronica are…

CUTEST COUPLE:

Best Hair:

 Best Lines:

Toby: My opponent is a dork. I win. Sly: What? I answered everything honestly.

Cabe: Honesty will get you points at the pearly gates. In politics, it’ll get you crushed.

Toby: Who’ve you been on the run from? Veronica: Funny. A business deal jumped off quick and I just had to hit the road before saying goodbye. Happy: And couldn’t be contacted for weeks? Veronica: When opportunity arises, you just have to reach out and grab it. Entrepreneurship is what makes this country great. Toby: When it comes to debate prep, there’s a lot you could learn from this woman. Sly: All I’ve heard is obfuscation. Toby: Exactamundo.

Veronica: Always redirect. Answer the question you wish you’d been asked instead of the one that was.

Cabe: When Ali asked me if I liked vegan food. I said yes. I like broccoli and carrots. I just left out that I like them next to a steak.

Walter: My decision making could be a bit… Happy: Tyrannical. Walter: I was gonna say unilateral, but your input is heard and appreciated.

Toby: Over compensation by way of agreeability and inclusion. Got it. Walter: Wrong. But appreciated.

Cabe: Anyone that graduated middle school knows the conch method. It’s from Lord of the Flies.

Toby: You know this’ll flame out when you eventually snap like a rubber band. Being genial isn’t your nature. Walter That’s wrong, but appreciated.

Veronica: What if I said it’s “Bring your mom to work day”? Paige: I’d say that doesn’t exist.

Cabe: I give a healthy pour.

Cabe: Just getting liquored up.

Paige: Did you have something to do with this? Veronica: Absolutely not! As far as I know.

Paige: This team gets into a lot of trouble, but we never get kidnapped. Sly: Toby got kidnapped. Paige: We don’t get kidnapped en masse!

Paige: Threatening to kidnap our scardiest geeks?

Walter: The US denied you dollars, so you’re gonna make fake ones.

Sly: His memory…

Sly: We make em, we fake em, we turn em over to you, you take em. That’s our motto.

Veronica: Without me, you’re gonna be printing bills that even a clerk at the 7-Eleven could spot.

Veronica: Your phosphorous varnish won’t work. The US government says publicly that’s what it uses, but it’s a red herring. You need hydroquinone.

Veronica: I served ten months for counterfeiting perfect cooper mine deeds. Paige: Couldn’t be prouder.

Happy: Petty punishments aren’t Walt’s style. It’s inefficient.

Toby (about Happy): This one isn’t used to classy places. *burps*

Toby (drinking wine): When in Rome. Happy: Why don’t we roam around the grounds?

Toby: They have sixteen varietals. It’s not my fault I’m thorough.

Happy (to Toby): You wouldn’t shut up about the sturdiness of the pinot noir.

Toby: We’re goofing off drinking wine. Happy: What’s this about ‘we’?

Toby: You drive! I’m pickled!

Toby: That sobered me up.

Happy (to Toby): Bet you these (zip ties) were for us. Lucky they’re one size fits all.

Toby: Genius lair.

Sly: How did we not know about Cujo and Co?

Walter (to Cabe): It’s this kind of ingenuity that makes you such a valuable team member.

Paige: Why can’t you stay in LA? What are you running from? …Don’t you ever tire of running? Does it ever occur to you that disappearing will break Ralph’s heart?

Veronica: Remember when I worked at a graphic design firm? …It was less graphic design firm and more fake bonds scheme.

Veronica: They’re drilling through the wall! It’s faint, but I’d know that sound anywhere! Paige: Don’t even wanna ask why.

Walter: All of us have our own roles and I shouldn’t minimize each other’s contributions.

Veronica: They couldn’t rig that printing press to keep running for longer than that?! I mean, some geniuses they are! Paige: Okay. I’m sure whatever they did was the best option available in the moment. Veronica: Well, the moment we’re in is that your friends just ran off and left us here to die! Paige: Them escaping to the tree line was your idea! Veronica: I gave them an option! They decided they could pull it off, which clearly they can’t! I was just trying to help! That’s all I’ve ever done! Paige: All you’ve ever done?! Are you kidding me?! Did you help me and dad every time you disappeared to run some con?! Every time you got arrested in front of me?! Every time you left us on our own?! You have never helped me, ever! You have only hurt me over and over! I swear, I can’t believe I let you back into my life! Veronica: First rule of the con artist: Believe the lie.

Sly: Where are we? Bike rider: You’re in my way jackasses!

Cabe: Psych ops. A team that believes it’s being held in a foreign dictatorship complies with captor’s demands faster than one that thinks it’s on home turf where it can be rescued.

Veronica: I saw more guards on the way to the bathroom at Perryville Prison.

Sly: I was not in the Marine Corps, but I was in student council.

Walter (to Toby, on phone): Keep at it. Pursue whatever avenue you think is best. I trust your judgment implicitly. Toby: You’re getting real weird, Walt.

Cabe (to bar owner): Don’t take this the wrong way, but a saloon like this has got to have protection.

Veronica: That woman is genius. Paige: You’re impressed?

Veronica (to Paige): You learned how to swim on your own.

Paige: You’re turning abandonment into a recipe for successful parenting? Veronica: You can’t argue with success.

Sly: This is just a regular warehouse. Veronica: Which means there’s something very irregular inside.

Toby: Holy stack of greenbacks!

Toby: Most devastating way to poison someone… inject them right in the heart.

Cabe: Good work team. Walter: Or, as I would say, good team work.

Sly: I’m going to grab the imaginary conch for a second here and say I am concerned that if you light that match that means this entire building, us included, will go kablooey. Happy: I’m gonna take your invisible conch now buddy and tell you that your plan is crazier than a poophouse rat. Toby: Taking the virtual conch. Agreeing with actual fiancé. Sly: If I could quickly just take the virtual conch, just for a second… W: Everyone stop with the virtual conch! You know who has the virtual conch? The guy with the 197 IQ! And this is what’s happening to it… *destroys imaginary conch* The conch is dead! I am the conch! Scorpion is not a democracy! It is a logical dictatorship!

Veronica (about Walter): Aren’t you gonna try to talk him down? Paige: No.

Veronica: You think any of this stuff (money) is still passable?

Toby: I could pawn a couple carburetors. Happy: No.

Veronica: You took him (Ralph) to the library after all that happened today? Paige: He doesn’t need the burden of knowing everything that goes wrong here.

Paige (to Veronica): You made me strong enough for the both us, remember?

Toby: He’s (Walter) turned his de-briefing session into a dress-down lecture. The rubber band has snapped and it’s hit those agents in the face. You gotta mediate this mess. Paige: Nope.

To come on Scorpion:

Oh, you know Quintis’ wedding is not going to go off without a hitch!

[amazingviralinfo]

Once people become famous, it seems like they only hang around other celebrities and/or rich people -- what could they possibly have to say to peasants like us? So it's no surprise when these glitzy bastards show up at the same clubs together. What is weird, however, is how many celebrities from totally different fields (or even time periods) knew each other before they got famous.

We've told you about how Samuel Beckett used to drive Andre the Giant to school, but that's not the weirdest pair of famous people to share an unexpected connection...

6

Empire Creator Danny Strong Was A Fan Of Quentin Tarantino ... When He Was Just A Video Store Clerk

Danny Strong was one of those "you know, that guy" TV actors (thanks to appearances in Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Gilmore Girls, Mad Men, and a long etc.) before gaining huge success as the creator of Fox's hip-hop soap opera, Empire.

Strong also wrote the screenplays for The Butler and two Hunger Games movies. Dude's had a pretty weird trajectory, is our point -- but it gets even weirder when you find out how he became a film buff in the first place. When Strong was a kid, he would go into the local video store and have long conversations with a clerk who "got [him] turned on to all these different movies that 10 year olds don't see." (As in, art films, not hardcore porn. We think.) That clerk's name? Albert Einstein.

Fine, it was actually Quentin Tarantino.

As we've mentioned before, Tarantino got his start in the movie industry by working at that same rental store. He was known for his infectious enthusiasm for movies, and patient zero of that outbreak might very well have been the young Strong. The kid used to spend so much time at the store, in fact, that he earned the nickname "Lil' Quentin."

One day, Tarantino was gone from the store, and it came out that he was making a movie. That movie's name? Albert Eins-- uh, Reservoir Dogs. Two years later, he'd win an Oscar for Pulp Fiction, and Strong got to tell people he was a fan of that guy before anyone else. We'd tell you to be nice to your video store clerk, but half of you are now asking Google what a "video store" even is.

5

Wyatt Earp Hung Out With A Teenage John Wayne

Wyatt Earp was one of those guys who wasn't satisfied sticking to one job for too long -- over the years he was a lawman, buffalo hunter, brothel keeper, miner and boxing referee, among others. But obviously he was best known for being an infinitely badass cowboy dude.

Earp took part in the most famous shootout in the history of the American Wild West, the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral -- a 30-second gun battle that has inspired dozens of feature-length films. What you might not realize is that, unlike most people involved in that event, Earp lived long enough to see the earliest movies inspired by his exploits. Naturally, he wanted in on that action.

Towards the end of his life, Earp settled in California and tried to break into Hollywood. Perhaps noticing an alarming lack of westerns where his character was always surrounded by naked ladies, Earp decided he wanted to tell his story from his own perspective. Unfortunately, the closest he got was reportedly a background part in a single scene of an obscure 1915 film.

On the upside, Earp did get to befriend some Hollywood actors -- including a 17-year-old nobody called Marion Morrison. You might know him under his somewhat manlier fake name, John Wayne.

While hanging out on movie sets, casually choreographing historical gunfights for directors like John Ford, Earp would share stories from the Wild West with the actors. The future Wayne, then a lowly extra/prop man, soaked them up. He also paid close attention to the way Earp talked and carried himself. It was like if Elizabeth Taylor had gotten to travel back in time and have brunch with the real Cleopatra, or if Ben Affleck could shoot the shit with the real Batman.

Obviously, those anecdotes came quite handy to Wayne once he went on to star in westerns of his own -- to the point that, according to his son, whenever Wayne had to play a tough cowboy, he just channeled Wyatt Earp. So, he did that for 95 percent of his roles, basically.

4

John Belushi Was Once Bailed Out Of Jail By Personal Finance Guru Suze Orman

Suze Orman, if you've never accidentally tuned into CNBC just as the remote ran out of battery, is one of the most successful professional assholes to tell you how to spend your money. She's famous for giving out generic financial advice while yelling "denied" and other catchphrases that may or may not have come from Wayne's World.

John Belushi, on the other hand, was one of the original cast members of Saturday Night Live and the star of comedy classics like Animal House and The Blues Brothers. He's famous for doing a shitload of drugs.

How the hell could two human beings so radically different possibly come together? The answer, of course, is through the magic of college housing. While attending the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, Orman ended up rooming with a girl called Judith Pisano, who in turn brought along her boyfriend/future husband, John Belushi.

Long before Orman went on TV to tell people what to do, she would practice her craft on Pisano, advising her to dump Belushi. Pisano recalls that Orman would ask "What are you doing with this guy?" and often expressed doubts about his possibilities of making it as an actor. We like to imagine that Belushi was chilling on the couch eating pizza as she said that, and didn't give a fuck.

Now, to be fair, Belushi did run into problems -- like when he was taken to jail after accumulating an impressive amount of unpaid parking tickets.

Belushi was so broke that he was unable to cough up the $25 bail, and Pisano couldn't ask her parents for help since they didn't know she was living with a dude. So, Belushi had no choice but to ask Orman to have her dad bail him out of jail. Mr. Orman did that and Belushi paid him back with some tickets to see his improv comedy group. It was the closest thing to money he had.

Interestingly, Orman has retroactively developed a much kinder opinion of the late Belushi now that he's a comedy legend: On her site, she writes that he was a hilarious guy and the three years she spent with him and his girlfriend were "quite the adventure." Presumably, her dad is now richer than her from selling those tickets on eBay.

3

Sherlock Holmes' Creator Thought His Friend Harry Houdini Had Real Magic Powers

The relationship between Arthur Conan Doyle (creator of Sherlock Holmes) and Harry Houdini (professional death-cheater) was the opposite of what you'd expect from their job descriptions. Doyle wrote stories about taciturn detectives solving crimes through reason and logic, while Houdini was a showy illusionist whose name is synonymous with magic -- and yet, Houdini was the skeptic and Doyle the one who wouldn't shut up about how fairies are totally real, you guys.

The two first met in 1920, and established an unlikely bromance over their shared interest in spiritualism (as in, communication with ghosts, not a fanaticism for strong alcohol). Doyle had long been a believer in the idea that there was life after death, even more so after his son died in World War I. Houdini, on the other hand, wanted to believe that it's possible to chat with the dead after his mom passed away, but just couldn't. He knew how easy it was for bullshit artists to fake a seance -- mainly because he'd done it himself, when he was young and needed the money.

Doyle and Houdini's different positions regarding ghosts and magic caused friction between them. Houdini would perform simple vaudeville tricks to prove that anyone could fake that shit, but they only convinced Doyle that his friend was some sort of powerful psychic or X-Men. One time, out of boredom, Houdini held up his hands and pretended to remove the end of his thumb and then reattach it. Doyle was astounded and his wife nearly fainted. Apparently, the most successful detective books of all time were written by a dude with a kindergartner's stimulus threshold.

As Doyle spent more and more money trying to prove ghost-talking was a real thing, Houdini made a second career out of exposing the same frauds his friend was falling for. Their relationship finally collapsed after Doyle's wife claimed she'd been able to contact Houdini's mother during a seance, producing 15 pages of perfect English from beyond the grave. Houdini wasn't too impressed, since his mom was a Hungarian immigrant with the mastery of English of a YouTube commenter.

2

Alexander Graham Bell Was Like A Dad To Helen Keller, Paid For Her College

Helen Keller is the woman who lost her ability to see and hear at 18 months, and still led a way more badass life than any of us ever will. If we asked you to name a historical figure Keller definitely had nothing to do with, some of you might say Alexander Graham Bell, that one dude who gets all the credit for (sort of) inventing the telephone. It seems like a phone is about the most insulting gift you could get for someone like her.

And yet, Bell wasn't just a friend of Keller's: He was one of the most important people in her life. Bell's close family was basically half deaf people and half people who had done research into voice. Bell himself taught deaf children to speak using a set of old-school emoji, basically.

Wiki Commons This is the process for communicating "poop with eyes."

So, when Keller's parents decided to take the little girl to specialists to see if she could even be educated, they ended up with Bell. Keller later wrote that she "loved him at once," which is surprising given that she couldn't even see his Santa beard.

Library of Congress "I'm most famous for creating an invention that is utterly useless to you."

It was Bell who referred Keller to Anne Sullivan, the woman who taught her how to communicate, but his influence didn't stop there. The two visited and wrote to each other all the time, and Bell even paid for her college education. (We apologize for making any dropouts feel bad by reminding you that Helen Keller finished college.)

Keller gained celebrity status after Bell gushed about her accomplishments in various journals. She, in turn, dedicated her first autobiography to him and attracted national attention to deaf education, an issue very close to Bell's heart. He would even go on to marry one of his deaf pupils (not Keller, thankfully, because then the newspapers would have started calling them "Beller.")

Besides deafness, another common interest that Bell and Keller shared was ... eugenics, but that's a subject for another, far more depressing article.

1

The Major Heads Of State Fighting In World War I (Except France) Were All Cousins

Remember the time when England, Russia, France, and their buddies fought Germany and its buddies in a giant free-for-all? No, not that one. The other one. We're talking about World War I, or as it was known at the time, The Only World War We'll Ever Have, Probably. Arguably the three most important figures in the conflict were Tsar Nicholas II (last Emperor of Russia) and King George V (King of the United Kingdom and the British Dominions) on one side, and Kaiser Wilhelm II (last German Emperor and King of Prussia) on the other.

And here's the weird thing: All three happened to be first cousins.

This wasn't some cut-off, dysfunctional family, either. The cousins/heads of state frequently wrote to each other and hung out, unlike you and that cousin you borrowed some Nintendo 64 games from and have been avoiding for 20 years. Although all three of them were rarely seen together, George (the English boss) and Nicholas (the Russian boss) looked so much alike that they were often mistaken for each other. We have to assume this led to Parent Trap-style shenanigans when they were kids.

The cousins all had the same grandmother, Queen Victoria, but their amiable relationships couldn't stop the most catastrophic family feud ever. In the historic "Willy-Nicky" telegrams (yes, they had embarrassing nicknames for each other), Nicholas wrote to Wilhelm on the literal eve of battle and asked in the "name of our old friendship to stop your allies." Wilhelm replied, "with regard to the hearty and tender friendship which binds us both from long ago with firm ties, I am exerting my utmost influence to induce the Austrians to deal straightly to arrive to a satisfactory understanding with you." Presumably he was giggling to himself as he wrote that, because the conflict continued -- the two cousins would soon be not only at war, but also off their thrones.

As for George, he offered Nicholas asylum after the war, but George withdrew the offer for political reasons, forcing his cousin to stay in Russia, where his whole family was executed. That's one way to avoid awkward family dinners, we guess.

Rachel P. is not famous yet, but you can make it happen. Follow her Twitter @plehcar.

For more famous connections, read The 7 Most Random Celebrity Duos Who Hung Out Before Fame and 8 Weird Ways Celebrities Were Friends Before Fame.

And be sure to check out 9 Types Of Coworkers To Make You Want Your Head To Explode, and let us know about other headsplosion-worthy employees we may have missed.

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