#i saw the clip on instagram though and it clocked in my mind that this is how i see them

[r3dlif3]

deidara and sasoris dynamic to me is that one scene from its always sunny in philadelphia where dee and dennis are in a psychiatrists office (i forgot why) and dee says she might be schizophrenic and dennis tells her to shut up or he'll add her to his collection of things and dee questions him having a collection of dead people whilst looking horrified. Dennis then goes on to ramble how he'd kill her and add her to it in various different ways. He then faces the psychiatrist asking him where they were and in the next scene he walks out the office diagnosed with borderline personality disorder.

Sasori is dennis in this situation and Deidara is dee.

[cinnamonfm]

in-character task 001: initial sit-downs. 

      heni is sitting in complete silence. the only sound is the monotone ticking of a clock nearing the ends of its battery life, the hands dragging themselves from second to second with visible exertion. ‘five minutes,’ they’d told her, and then promptly proceeded to be gone for at least fifteen. like she doesn’t have places to be. 

her gaze shifts from the decrepit clock to the walls. she catches herself wondering when this room last saw a lick of paint. it’s a disconcerting shade of cream, the unevenness of which leads her to think that it had perhaps once been white. or light grey, only to be slowly discoloured by decades of indoor smoking. 

there’s a slight creek as the door opens, and the police officers make their way into the room. she’s almost certain they’ve extended their ‘five minutes’ on purpose, for some stupid little power play, but it’s not having its intended effect on her. she has to actively hold herself back from rolling her eyes. she may be many things, but intimidated by men in ill-fitting polyester suits is not one of them.  “ so, miss ....” there’s a notable pause as the one closest to her consults a file. “kennedy-astor, mind if we ask some questions?” once again, she has to almost bite the inside of her cheek not to groan. “by all means, officer. go right ahead.”

the room is at once flooded with the excruciating sound of metal chairs dragging across cheap linoleum flooring as the officers take their seats across from her. she leans back a little, hands folded nonchalantly on her lap. there’s an almost incessant urge building in her to tap her nails rhythmically against the lacquered wooden tabletop. anything to urge them to hurry up already. “When did you last speak to Greer?”

“No comment.” Her tone is measured as she answers. If they think she’s saying anything without legal representation, they’re dead wrong. 

She swears she can see a faint hint of annoyance in the speaker’s eyes, but he clears his throat, moving on all the same. “Right. When did you last actually see Greer?” the other says, with an emphasis on see, as though that might coax her into answer. Heni picks at her cuticle.  “No comment.”

“How well did you know Greer?” She offers a slight smile. Surely they should know what’s in store for them by now. “No comment.” There is a definite sense of agitation in the air, and she’d be lying if she didn’t half take pleasure in it. As much as she could, considering the circumstances. “What was your relationship with Greer like?” the first officer tries, leaning forward in an attempt to be .... menacing? engaging? She can’t tell.  Did they even need to ask this? Surely they’d seen enough instagram photos while investigating to piece the puzzles together. She’d be surprised if these officers would be able to locate a plug socket in an IT patch room. Why spend all this time barking up the wrong tree?

“No comment.”

“Have you heard or seen anything about where she was this summer?” It’s the second officer this time. No weird, jilted emphasis, but there is an undercurrent of resignation to his tone. 

She hasn’t. She doesn’t think anyone has. But she’d been so busy, she figured that was as much to do with her ridiculous travel plans as it was Greer.  “No comment.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted Greer to disappear, would you?” 

“Excuse me?” The tone is sharp and clipped, her voice taking on the cadence of a silver spoon against a crystal glass. Henrietta takes a short, shallow breath, as if to calm herself, before looking back at the other. Sometimes, she thinks to herself, it should be socially acceptable to kick someone in the shin and walk off. “No, she’s my best friend, why on earth would I want her gone?” Her voice is a tad softer as she speaks, lamenting on the times the two of them had spent together over the course of the years. The guilt burns hot in her chest. “She’s seen me in retainers - there’s no coming back from that.” The joke falls flat, even before she’s finished saying it. “She’ll show up, I’m sure of it. Give it another week, and she’ll stroll through those doors with a fresh tan like nothing ever happened.” Her hand finds its way into her coat pocket to conceal the vague tremors. Who is she trying to convince - them or herself?

“Frankly, officers, not only are you wasting my time, but you’re wasting yours.” She slides an intentionally cream-coloured business card across the table. Take that, walls. “Next time, I’d appreciate if we could do this in the presence of my lawyer.”   

[princessofprocrastination]

Not The Same (GeorgeNotFound)

summary : you put out a song, but it attracted the wrong type of crowd and caused too many misunderstandings.

trigger warnings : threats (including death and doxing), panic attacks, taking of meds. 

"you're THOSE type of fans, huh?" you read the comments on your newest song release.

and that was the start of your downfall.

-

you and your dad really enjoyed singing. at any opportunity you two got, you would be doing a duet.

whether that would be at at a close relative's wedding or your at home karaoke set up, you two knew how to entertain people.

though singing was your passion, you ended up being too busy with school and trying to graduate with a diploma to even think about singing again.

but you swore to make a career of your singing after high school. you just loved it too much.

but then, you didn't go to college for music, which pretty much shocked your parents and your friends since they knew your only passion in life was singing.

but you took a different direction. you still wanted to sing and you were trying your hardest to find a way to make that your career.

someday, anyway. but you needed to have a plan to fall back into in case anything goes wrong.

you were a realist, after all.

so off to college you went.

you spent long hours studying for tests after tests, sat through hours of lectures, did endless amounts of projects.

in the end, it was all worth the wait and fatigue. you graduated top of your class.

you went off to be an intern, clocked in more hours before you could fully go into the next phase of your life.

and after those long hours, you finally made the decision (with the support of your parents) to take a gap year.

but before anyone panics. your gap year was not all fun in games where you took to rest and lay in bed all day.

you took the gap year to see if the music industry fits you. to see if you even had the chance to succeed.

and if it did, you could finally have your dream job. but even if it didn't you were not going to be upset if you needed to fall back onto your backup plan.

in the duration of the gap year, you took voice lessons, and poetry classes for song writing.

and with whatever you have learnt, you took that into writing songs that you felt really relate to your life experiences.

so you spend at least a couple months writing multiple songs.

after almost 2 years, you finally came out with your first song. and it definitely got recognition. more than you thought you'd get, if you were being completely honest.

and that was what pushed you to sit your ass back on your desk to write more, and go into your makeshift studio and make the words into songs.

your parents were ecstatic to hear that you were finally doing the things you loved. and you knew you'd never get this far if it weren't for your family's support.

and so your music journey began.

it was going well for years. you were finally happy doing the one thing you enjoyed doing.

and you definitely think you were good at it. seeing and hearing the positive feedbacks from your family, friends and listeners. 

you felt good. 

but you lost that feeling when you came out with a new single, called ‘fan of you’. 

you spent a while working hard on that song and you felt relieved when it was finally released. it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

and you weren’t sure how one thing led to another, if you were being honest. at first, you received good feedback for your new songs. you even gained new listeners and your spotify rank rised. 

but then it didn’t anymore. 

your twitter flooded with mentions and your instagram full of tagged pictures and dms by accounts you’ve never heard of. 

but you noticed a similarity with all of the spam. a guy name george. georgenotfound for short.

you being you, you looked into it. and that was when all of the information hit you. and all you had to look up was your name on twitter, and there it was, the longest thread of tweets you have ever seen in your life. 

you took time to read it all, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything crucial. 

there must be an understanding. you didn’t know this guy name george. you’ve seen his face on pinterest once a while when you scrolled, yes. but you never looked into him. 

this amazing person took their time to gather every bit of information there was about the scandal, which you were grateful for, or else you’d be scouring the internet for hours. 

to summarise what you read, there was this artist by the name of tia jade who came out with a song a few months prior to yours called ‘just a fan.’ 

it was a good song, some say, and you could agree. it was professionally written and produced. but many fans of george found out that the song was about him. 

not just about him, but about her falling in love with him, when she has never met him. and when his fans started to really listen and analyse the song, it got creepier. 

basically, the song was about a fan falling in love with a celebrity/content creator and that they want to know them beyond their persona online. 

but tia had apologised a little after the song came out, saying that she made that song based on a fan liking a content creator, and not about her falling for george. 

but when you read enough of the issue, it definitely did seem like she was making that song to tell her story about falling for george. but she obviously needed an excuse to cover it up. 

hence the apology. 

and then you read about how they analysed your song, too.

they compared your song to tia’s and found it to have similar stories. stories about how a normal girl is falling in love with the man by the name of george, who had millions of followers on all social medias. 

and if you admitted it to yourself, your song did seem to come out that way. especially if your mentality had been there. clearly your song could have been interpreted in many different ways. 

you scrolled to the very bottom of the thread where there was a video of the man himself, george. he was addressing the issue. 

“i don’t know how this happened twice. i thought once was weird enough, but.” he paused, focusing on building something on his screen. 

“having heard of a song being about me again now makes my skin crawl.” he finished. it was short but enough to make his fans understand where he was coming from. 

you scrolled further to see the replies of the thread. you wanted to know what were people saying about it. 

and you definitely regretted your decision to do that. 

threats everywhere. death threats, threats of beating you up, threats of doxing you. god the negative comments were drowned by the one’s that genuinely thought nothing wrong of your song. 

you called you mom. this was the time you needed her advice. you needed to be told what to do. you didn’t want to accidentally trigger people. 

you and her were on the phone for hours. she listened to you cried to her. she heard the painful sobs that came out of your mouth whenever you reminded yourself of what people were calling you on the internet. 

she heard you cry silently on call when you saw your address and phone number being leaked on twitter. 

but even through all of that, you joked around with your mom. “well, this was a hell of a way to be trending.” 

you did what she told you to do. get a new phone number, stay in a hotel for a couple days while you try to settle the raging crowd of georgenotfound fans down. 

in the span of a couple weeks, you got yourself a new number, a new house and a new car. you weren’t taking any chances. 

you told no one besides your mom of the new changes, just to be safe. 

and no, the threats did not cease. at all. these people did not have a life, constantly up in your dms, telling you to jump off a cliff or them hoping that a robber stabs you and leaves you dying. 

you took your time trying to figure out a way to talk to george. or a way to speak out about this. 

you didn’t want to write a half-assed notes app paragraph apologising when- first of all, you had nothing to apologise for and second, you had too much to say to fit it all in a notes app. 

lucky for you, you didn’t need to start your own channel or make a sit down video on your own. 

your recording label had brought up the idea of a documented series about you and how you became a singer about a year ago, and only started filming and posting the episodes a couple months prior on youtube. 

so you took the series to your advantage. you pitched in the idea to your manager, to which she agreed to immediately, knowing that it was best you talked about it now. 

this was how it played out on the perspective of viewers who watched that episode. 

“bless you.” your producer says after you paused your singing in the mic as you stopped to sneeze. 

you gave him a smile and a thumbs up from inside the booth. 

the camera cuts to another clip. 

the cameraman pans as they captured movers coming in and out of your old house, picking up your heavy furniture and boxes into large trucks to move into the new place.

 it cuts again. this time it shows you scrolling on your phone with a focused face while your manager types something vigorously on her computer. 

the camera tries to focus on your phone, and sees that you were on twitter, reading a lot of tweets under your name. 

you exited the app and slide it away, going into youtube next, reading the comments on your song ‘fan of you’. 

you scrolled far, clicking on some of the comments, trying to read the replies to certain comments you saw. 

the camera cuts into a black screen. which then cuts again into a new scene, where you sat on your new kitchen counter talking to your mother, who sat on the chair in front of you. 

your hair was up in a ponytail. a messy one. you were wearing sweatpants and a hoodie that seemed far too big on you, and your feet covered with fluffy socks.

you were nodding to whatever she was saying to you. it was clear your mind was elsewhere as your eyes were unfocused. 

the scene cuts again. 

you were seen on the couch, your legs were tucked into your arms and your head down, body shaking. it was obvious you were crying. 

you were alone, your mother no where to be seen. 

that was the first time the camera caught you crying. 

the scene cuts as you were going to get up from the couch. 

now, you were in the kitchen again, opening the refrigerator to take a water bottle, then walking to your room upstairs. 

the camera follows behind you slowly into your room. 

it hadn’t been the cleanest. there were a couple shirts on the floor, your bed undone, cups on your side table, your laptop open on your desk. 

you were seen opening a drawer, taking out a small white bottle. you unscrewed the bottle and took out 2 pills, popping them in your mouth, drinking water straight away after that to swallow. 

the scene cuts again. 

this time, you were seated on the couch in the studio, the atmosphere dark and quiet. 

your hair was more kept this time, being help up in a clip. 

you were wearing straight jeans and a slightly oversized sweatshirt. you looked more refreshed this time. but it was obvious you hadn’t slept in a while because of your eyes.

your eyes that usually held a lot of happiness and joy turned dull. 

“it’s been a while since i’ve spoken to a camera.” you offered a small smile. your song ‘just a fan’ was playing in the background of the clip. 

the scene cuts again. 

“when i released that song, i was genuinely proud of the work i had done.” you paused for a while. besides the song playing in the background, it was silent. 

“but i guess the joy didn’t last very long.” the scene cuts there. 

it transitioned to a collage of what people were saying about you. it showed clips of people talking about it on youtube. they even showed george talking about it. 

and it cuts again. 

it showed a different clip this time. a clip of your ex boyfriend and you at the beach on a picnic, that was taken by a close friend of yours. 

this was when you were still in college. 

it showed all the fun memories you two made while you were still together. 

it showed a video of him studying in the library, flipping through his papers and scrolling through his laptop. it was clear he was hard at work, not noticing you filming him. 

but then the scene cuts again. and the music turned somber. 

your ex boyfriend’s grave. 

it was the day you were visiting him. you sat down next to his stone, a blanket under you. 

you were just staring at his stone, not moving. 

and it cuts again. 

“he was one of the most driven person i have ever met.” you told the camera. 

“he knew when to be serious and when to have fun.” you looked down in your hands and played with your rings. 

“all he ever talked about was becoming a surgeon. he worked hard in his intern years and continued being passionate through his residency.” you spoke up. 

“people had only nice things to say about him. the only bad thing they would say about him is that he can be pretty uptight sometimes, especially when he was stressed about something.” you laughed a little. 

“i was a huge fan of him, even when we just saw each other in the hallways. he’s just amazing. i’ve always wanted to be just like him.”

“i wanted to write a song about him but i didn’t the song to be sad.” you said. 

“and that was when the song ‘fan of you’ was created. 

the scene cuts there and goes into another. 

you were in the recording booth again, this time, you were singing into the mic. 

the camera pans to your producer and manager dancing and bobbing their heads to the beat. 

the scene cuts, officially ending it with a black screen with ‘the end’ in a fancy white font. 

you busied yourself with writing new songs as your name got trended again on twitter. 

and george has never felt worse about himself ever in his entire life. 

-

he watched the episode as soon as dream sent it to him. 

“you’re an asshole, george.” dream sends to him, along with the link of the video on youtube. 

as the video ends, he decides to read the comments, wondering what it was like down there. 

it was the worse mistake he had ever made in a while. 

but he knew he deserved it. he did assumed it was about him, just like the last song made with a drawing of his glasses as their cover photo on spotify. 

this time, there was genuinely no reason to think that this song was about him, or anyone with a following whatsoever. he just believed what his chat told him. 

sure, there were some familiarity of the character in your song and him, but the world did have 7.6 billion people living on it. 

“so, here i am apologising.” george says to his camera, live. his tone was very sincere and apologetic. 

“this shouldn’t have gotten this far. they shouldn’t have gotten threats at all, let alone death threats. they shouldn’t have woken up to the world knowing where they live and what their phone number is.” 

“and if you’re watching. i sincerely apologise. i clearly was full of myself.” george finishes. ending the live with a small wave. 

and were you watching? hell yes. 

and that was the day the two of you followed each other on instagram. 

he used your songs as his intros of his live, (with your permission, of course.) you showed in your documentary that you were watching whenever he was live or watching his youtube videos. 

and that was the start to a beautiful relationship. 

you sat on the chair, going live. you waved as people started joining. it went from hundreds, to thousands in seconds. 

as you were talking and clicking on your keyboard and mouse, playing a game, you felt arms around your shoulders. 

you smiled, yet continued playing. 

“why are you live on my account?” he laughs. 

you disconnected the headphones so that he could hear what you were hearing. 

“george, you’re being replaced.” dream said on discord. 

george smiles, giving you a kiss on the top of your head. “that was well deserved.” 

[aoooficrecs]

Fic Recs for still unfinished fics

Who doesn’t love to read a completed fic? Unfortunately sometimes it can take a while before those multi chapter fics get finished, doesn’t mean that they aren’t awesome and hey, waiting is half the fun? Here’s some of the ones I wait for practically on the edge of my seat if you wanna join in my misery:

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Aid By: Haurvatat Words: 62860 Chapters: 25/? Summary: Frankly, the only person on Team Voltron with their shit relatively together is Hunk. Lance tries so hard, but... he can't help but feel there's a reason he never gets too far with that one, and maybe not 100% of it is Keith's fault. All it takes is one battle, one accident, one mistake, and one secret to make it all rise to the surface.

Black to Blue By: PuppetMaster55 Words: 38886 Chapters: 6/? Summary: Lance, the undisputed (no longer, since he finally got the team to stop questioning his position like a month ago) leader of Voltron finds himself in the absolute strangest scenario: being the Blue Paladin. Lance, still finding his place on team Voltron, wakes up to the weirdest world: one where he's the Black Paladin. OR, I take a universe where Lance was always the Black Paladin and have him swap bodies with canon Lance, throwing both sets of teams for a trip.

Watercast By: Fishwrites Words: 61956 Chapters: 7/? Summary: Shiro has been a Galra prisoner for over a year; with his flight feathers clipped and unable to fly. Desperate to escape, he jumps overboard while being transported to the capitol on a Galran ship. Lance is a merman who saves him from drowning. Keith thinks Shiro is about to become mermaid dinner. Hunk just wants Lance to stop going to the surface all the time, dammit! (AU where Avians (winged folk), Galra, humans and merfolk cohabit earth. Shiro and Keith are avian soldiers, Lance is the youngest son of a Queen, Hunk is also a merman and Pidge is still looking for her family.)

Blueprints By: UnderTheSilentStars Words: 41414 Chapters: 24/? Summary: "While soulmarks themselves were common, it was rare for someone to have anything other than the name of their other half...and Lance had a red paw print." Soulmark AU

Our Daddy is Sweet Like Sugar By: BTwrites Words: 10933 Chapters: 6/? Summary: Keith and Lance are struggling college students, Lance has the bright idea that they try to get a sugar daddy to fix their problems. It doesn't go as planned.

Beyond Bonding By: deecherrywolf Words: 31207 Chapters: 7/10 Summary: Lances gains the ability to see the spirit of the Blue Lion. Blue decides to take advantage of this new ability.

Fandom: Yuri On Ice

Re: Yuri Katsuki By: Ishxallxgood Words: 38931 Chapters: 32/? Summary: Phichit Chulanont is fiercely loyal to his best friend Yuri Katsuki. So when he randomly gets a direct message on Instagram from one v_nikiforov, it's only natural for Phichit to assume it's a prank. That is until he comes to realize it's not a prank. A story about how Phichit and Viktor bonded over their most favorite topic; Yuri Katsuki. Phichit knows all the things.

Turn Back the Clock By: IronScript Words: 27513 Chapters: 25/? Summary: When Yuuri and Viktor wake up over thirty years in the past, they don't know what to do. Does the other remember? Luckily that particular question is quickly answered and they can relax slightly, but what about afterwards? Viktor was brought back to right before his first Olympics, and Yuuri isn’t even old enough to compete in Seniors’! Then there's the fact that they're still very much in love, but a physical relationship would be illegal (and would gross them both out considering Yuuri's age), and they can't count on anyone to just trust them not to do anything age inappropriate. So maybe being long-distance (with as many in-person meetings as possible) would be better until Yuuri becomes a legal adult physically, never mind his actual age. But it's hard to behave and act naturally when you're forced to be apart from your husband of twenty years, especially during one of the most stressful parts of anyone's life, so Yuuri and Viktor have to distract themselves somehow, right?Right. And if everyone around them ends up completely confused and blindsided at their sudden changes (though admittedly they seem to have changed for the better), then so be it!

From A Random Playing Card By: Noitratoxin Words: 18006 Chapters: 12/? Summary: In training premier danseur, Katsuki Yuuri, under the guidance of Lilia Baranovskaya was asked to train the new generation of Russian figure skaters in ballet and found himself with a 4 year old Yuri Plisetsky, adopted son of the one Viktor Nikiforov, clinging to his legs demanding he comes home with him. Yuuri wasn’t sure if this was healthy for his sanity.

Sensei, Onegai Shimasu By: TheSilentOtaku Words: 20982 Chapters: 8/? Summary: Viktor figured he looked weird right now, sitting there, dumbstruck and clutching a napkin with the personal number of his child’s teacher scrawled across it—the same teacher who asked him out about forty-five minutes ago. He probably even looked more strange when he started smiling. The fic in which Viktor Nikiforov is a single father, Yuri Plisetsky is Viktor's six-year-old son with an obsession with tigers and crayons, and Yuuri Katsuki is the cute first grade teacher that Viktor can't seem to get out of his mind.

in skating we axel By: pictureperfectporcelain Words: 22205 Chapters: 21/? Summary: Phichit created group: “in skating we axel” (Or, the Yuri!! on Ice silly group chat fic that nobody asked for.)

Magic on Ice By: chibilysis (xyrilyn) Words: 35983 Chapters: 9/? Summary: Yuuri's first accidental magic took the form of a miniature snowstorm in his room. By the time his parents realised something was off, Yuuri's bedroom was one feet deep in magical snow. Yuuri was only five years old, at the time. Then, one day, upon returning home from school, he found an owl perched on the windowsill in his bedroom. It had brought him a letter. And the rest... was history. (( In which Katsuki Yuuri grows up in Hogwarts, gets involved in all sorts of shenanigans and eventually meets his quidditch idol, Victor Nikiforov - not necessarily in that order. ))

On ICE!!! By: Watermelonsmellinfellon Words: 15521 Chapters: 5/? Summary: The first time Katsuki Yuuri saw Victor Nikiforov perform, he realized he had a great desire to see figure skating in a video game. In fifteen years, his dream is realized. Little does he know that Victor's attention has been caught by the very game he unknowingly inspired. So ensues the cutest meeting ever and the relationship that follows.

Swimming With The Fishes By: instantpuppypaper Words: 33815 Chapters: 5/? Summary: Viktor, the 'King' of the seven seas; dangerous, pretty, and impossible to catch. Legends say even the ocean was in love with him, rescuing him and his crew when all seemed lost. How little do those legends know, for Viktor was the one in love. He had given his heart to the sea when he was just a child. A mermaid au with pirates, estranged princes, and attractive fish.

solo and pair By: calciseptine Words: 22880 Chapters: 9/? Summary: Yuuri keeps his mark hidden. Soulmate AU

Switched By: GhostsOnSaturn Words: 23942 Chapters: 7/? Summary: Soulmates AU where your consciousness occasionally swaps places with that of your soulmate for varying amounts of time. Katsuki Yuuri was just six years old when it first happened. He had been minding his own business, quite happily drawing an interesting rendition of a bird perched outside his window, and had blinked only to find himself somewhere completely different. He let out a shout of alarm - but it wasn’t his voice - and all of a sudden, feet that were far too big to be his slipped out from underneath him and he found himself lying on something very hard, and very cold.

You Can't Plan for Everything By: RivDeV Words: 123560 Chapters: 21/? Summary: Yuuri forgets that he has a scheduled heat coming up until it's just a couple weeks away. He scrambles to get everything ready in time, including deciding whether he'll spend it alone or with someone. Victor only wants to help.

[thetourguidebarbie]

ANGIEEEE REMEMBER MY DRABBLE! No boner klaus, talk about feelings, or whatever you want to write about! You are the best, thank you.

Happy birthday Mina!! This verges on crack and there’s no smut, but I hope you like it anyway ;)

“Leaving before I woke up. Real classy.”

Klaus looked up from his phone at the vaguely familiar voice to see the witch he’d bedded the night before standing in his living room. She was quite pretty and had a lovely arse, but all in all wasn’t all that memorable. How had she gotten in? One night stands could be clingy, of course, but he wondered if his security was lacking. He realized that she was talking.

“--that I meant nothing to you?”

“Precisely, love. You meant nothing to me,” he confirmed boredly, giving the facade of disinterest and turning back to his phone while still paying attention just in case she tried something. Witches were notoriously petty after all, and she seemed to be nursing a bruised ego.

“How can you be so apathetic? Have you never cared about anyone in your life?”

Visions of long blonde hair and bright blue eyes flashed across his mind, and he scoffed.

“I think that’s a bit harsh from a one-night-stand who overestimates her value.”

He was faintly surprised when she began to chant what he recognized as a common infatuation enchantment, but compulsion of any kind didn’t affect him, and he decided to let her drain herself so there would be less of a fight when he had someone throw her out. He realized that he’d made an error in his calculations when he felt an odd cold creep through his upper thighs and cock, as though someone had held ice underneath the skin.

“What did you do?” he hissed, looking up at her smug face.

“You’ll find out,” she said with a smirk.

He growled, standing and snapping her neck in one easy movement, hoping her death would stop the enchantment. The prickling feeling on his skin didn’t linger and he smirked, waving for a hybrid to come clean up the body before sinking down onto the couch and resuming his previous activities.

He scrolled through instagram, smiling slightly when he saw a beautiful selfie Caroline had taken the day before, the sun hitting her face in a way that gave him the urge to sketch her. Resisting the urge to hit the like button under her caption (Couldn’t resist lol #shamelessselfie #summersun #nofilter), he instead pulled out his sketchbook, glancing at the phone for reference before closing the application and beginning to draw the line of her cheek.

He realized there was something wrong when he shut the door to his bedroom after finishing the sketch, closing his eyes and picturing Caroline with her head thrown back as he nipped her inner thighs, teasing her, always stopping short of her dripping center. Her eyes were half-lidded, her nipples pebbled, tempting him to tease them with his tongue...

His cock didn’t even twitch. He frowned. That image had never failed to turn him on, the fantasy of her soft whimpers as he touched her always made him hard. He touched himself. Nothing. He knew he was turned on, could feel the racing of his pulse, the slight quickening of his breath, but he couldn’t seem to get his cock to harden. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened. The witch had cast a spell to keep him from getting an erection...

He growled, pulling his jeans back up and storming to the library where they kept the grimoires, pulling ones off the shelf that he knew might have something to do with the witch’s spell and reading through them, looking for an incantation similar to an infatuation spell.

Now that it had been activated, he could feel the unsettling prickle underneath his skin.

He found his answer after three hours of flipping through the books and resisted the urge to throw the grimoire against the wall, knowing that he might need it later. Still, the solution the book had to break the spell made fear and insecurity well up within him, the idea of confessing his...feelings to her somehow overwhelming.

Yes, he’d told her how he felt before, but never in a way that wasn’t littered with romantic promises and pretty compliments. It had always been playful teasing as he watched her small smiles and rolls of her eyes, but he’d never been truly honest with her, had never given her a genuine opening to shut him down completely.

He wasn’t sure if he could take seeing her tell him that she truly didn’t want him, that it had all been fun and flattering games but she could never love him. A little voice in the back of his mind insisted that that would be exactly what would happen. He’d go to Virginia and open up, and she’d laugh in his face. He poured himself a glass of bourbon, wryly thinking that whiskey dick had never been a problem for him, but there was certainly no downside now.

He wasn’t sure whether he could take it, but he knew that with vampire sex drive and his tendency to murder entire towns when miffed, if Caroline wasn’t open to his affections now, she certainly wouldn’t be once he’d murdered the entire population of Louisiana because he couldn’t get it up.

He polished off his third bottle by two in the morning, and when he collapsed in bed he’d decided that he’d take a flight up to Richmond the next morning.

As he’d expected, his welcome was not warm.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, stuffing her textbook into her backpack. “You were supposed to leave me alone after our... our thing in the woods.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’d rather not be here either,” he said before inwardly wincing at the hurt that flashed across her face and about to tell her that’s not what he meant when she spoke, her tone clipped and more than a little irritated.

“Why are you here then?”

“I’m under a spell.”

“Do you need me to call Bonnie?”

Her voice was cold, as though she thought he’d come all the way to Mystic Falls just to ask her where to find her friend, and he’d never wanted to murder them more (which was saying something).

“No. I need you,” he said quietly, and she met his eyes warily. “I need...I’ve been cursed.”

“Okay,” Caroline said slowly. “With what?”

There was no good way to say what the effects were. “I am unable to obtain an erection.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” he said.

“What, and you think I’m going to help you... jump-start your boner, or something?”

“In a way, I suppose.”

“I’m not your booty-call.”

“My what?”

She stared at him for a second before rolling her eyes and huffing, the familiar movement making him have to fight down a smile. “Your booty-call. You know, like, sex on-call?”

“Quite the opposite, actually.” She raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. “There’s a way to break the curse, you see.”

“Okay. Can you get to the point? I have psych in like, half an hour,” she checked the clock. “Twenty minutes. You’re stalling.”

“I must confess my...feelings to the object of my affections,” he said, holding her gaze seriously. He felt incredibly uncomfortable now that he’d opened up for her to shut him down, but her eyes widened, and she looked more surprised than like she was going to tell him that she didn’t feel the same way.

“Oh,” Caroline squeaked after a few seconds of silence, and he realized that she’d been just as aware that he’d been spouting off meaningless compliments as he had.

Perhaps she’d thought that he wasn’t completely serious? That when he’d pleasured her in the forest for hours hoping to ruin her for anyone else he had only thought of her as a challenge? Had she thought he was done with her? Been so hostile because she thought he’d been using her? That he didn’t have genuine feelings for her?

Well, to be honest, even he wasn’t completely sure what he felt for her. It was more than lust, but love seemed like too strong a word. Affection, perhaps? Attachment? He certainly wanted her, had pretended he’d convinced himself that it was inevitable for her to choose him. He’d constructed elaborate plans for how to make sure she never left, had visions of taking her around the world and showing her all his favorite places. He wanted to see her smile when she tasted what actual mexican food was like, wanted to watch her admire every tourist trap in Rome that she’d seen on television.

They stood in silence for a few more seconds as he considered his words before he looked her squarely in the eyes. “I care for you,” he said bluntly, hoping the feeling of the magic all over him would disappear, but it didn’t. Caroline raised her eyebrows, clearly about as impressed with the quality of his confession as the spell was. “I think you’re brilliant and kind and beautiful. I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.”

It was true, but the spell didn’t let up, and he almost smiled at Caroline’s huff of annoyance. “You’re like a thousand year old Hallmark movie. ‘I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you’? Seriously?”

“I don’t want to care about you,” he said quietly, and he felt just a bit of the spell lift, as though it knew he was on the right track. He wondered for a moment if not being able to have sex was as excruciating as admitting his deepest insecurities would be. Was it really worth it?

Caroline was still staring at him, though she looked more offended than annoyed, and he knew that this was not going well, but pressed on anyway. “I haven’t felt this way about someone in quite awhile. I haven’t let myself. Then you walked into that gymnasium and I saw the horror in your eyes when you saw what I was doing to the mutt--”

“He’s not a mutt and if this is your confession I’m not sure I want to stick around for it.”

“And I realized that it wasn’t fear of him it was fear for him. Your loyalty and compassion overruled what should have been a very natural fear of a vampire’s only predator. I wanted it. I wanted you. I had Tyler bite you hoping to eliminate the threat. I knew how dangerous my interest was, but I couldn’t let you die that day. The more time I spent with you the worse it got. You’re addictive and brilliant and beautiful and I’ve never wanted so desperately for someone to choose me, and I loathe it.”

Now that he’d started he somehow couldn’t stop, and he wasn’t sure whether it was the spell pulling the truths from his lips or the way she was looking at him, as though she suddenly understood where he was going with his impromptu speech. “I loathe that you have so much control over me. It’s terrifying that you hold my heart in your hands, that you seem to have no inkling of how much power you have...but even more concerning is that I’ve allowed it. I’ve never been unable to forget anyone like this, never been unable to let go, and I can’t let you go, Caroline. I’ve tried, and I can’t.”

She was watching him as he spoke, her head tilted slightly to the side as she listened to him confess things he never thought he’d say out loud, never wanted to say out loud, her face unreadable. After a beat she seemed to realize he was done, and she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, laying her cheek on his shoulder, and he could feel the brush of her eyelashes against his neck when she closed her eyes. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, not quite sure how to respond, not quite sure what this response meant from her, and just as he was getting comfortable, she pulled back, standing on her toes a soft kiss to his lips. “Thanks,” she said quietly, and he wasn’t sure what that meant either. “For sharing, I mean,” she said before wincing at his expression and letting out a sharp breath. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I mean, I know that was a lot of trust for you, weird anti-boner spell or not. So thanks. You know, for trusting me.”

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly, and they stared at each other, his hand drifting down to her waist. It was almost too much, the mixed emotions on her face and the aftermath of that embarrassingly open one-sided confession, and he cleared his throat. “You have class,” he muttered, pulling back, and she snorted.

“You really think I’m leaving you alone after that for class? First of all, it’s psychopathology, and I’m perfectly fine having a hands-on lesson instead of a lecture.”

“I’m not a psychopath, and I believe that’s an area of study devoted to many mental disorders rather than just the one.”

“See? Already learning things,” she said teasingly. “Plus you haven’t even listened to my confession yet.”

“Your confession?” he asked, his lips twitching. “And what’s that, love?”

“I also care about you,” she said bluntly. “And I’m scared too. You’re really old and kind of murderey, which generally isn’t what I go for in guys, you know? I’m worried that someday you’re going to get tired of me and move on to the next girl, or that I’ll get so comfortable with you doing terrible things that I’ll start making excuses for them. I don’t want to lose myself, and I feel like I could if I was with you. I want to try anyway, though. I really, really do. I’ve just been scared to call you because I was worried you just thought I was a challenge and that once we had sex you would laugh in my face if I ever called you again.”

“Caroline, you have to have known--”

“But I didn’t, because I’m just as much of an insecure wimp as you are, so if you could just tone down the freaking out and remember that I’m just as freaked out, it might work out better. Okay?”

He grinned. “What might work better?”

“Us, obviously,” she said.

“And I thought you were just saying you were insecure.”

“I’m insecure, not deaf,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “How about we watch a movie and do dinner, and if you play your cards right I might be willing to help you test if that spell broke first hand.”

They did not make it through the movie, and the spell was, indeed, broken.