#turns out the bread was stale tho

[the-purple-possum]

I feel like Damian had a phase where he became obsessed with the Paddington movies like 6 months into moving to wayne Manor, and for like maybe a week he tried the nice and polite thing. Only issue is, everyone is now on edge every time he's considerate.

Dami: Drake, I have made you a sandwich.

Tim, whos just gotten back from a two week titan's mission and is now highly suspicious: What's in it?

Dami, exasperated: Marmalade.

Tim, even more confused: Why?

Dami, just staring into his soul expectantly, trying his darndest to smile politely:

Tim, too tired to deal with this, taking the plate:

Damian runs off, Tim gives up.

Safe to say, after a week of everyone still being on edge he gives up and gains a new interest in warrior cats or smth.

[bloodredfountainpen]

@juneofdoom day 2:

“It didn’t have to be this way” | scream | double cross | made to watch

(Getting a liiiiiitle peak into Cedar’s life before becoming a Pet, up to you to guess who in the story is him tho eheheh)

Contains/CW: implied organized crime, tortured for information, kidnapping, made to watch, non-medical amputation (a thumb is taken off with bolt cutters), two whumpers, two whumpees

——————————————————————————

The bodyguard was completely silent, enduring the duo of torturers’ increasingly severe methods for, in the bodyguard’s best estimation, a week. They knew that their captors wouldn’t lay a hand on their charge, even the infamous Santi family couldn’t afford to hurt a senator’s daughter after all. Safe in the knowledge that their charge was okay, the bodyguard held steadfast, refusing to give up even a scrap of information. It was difficult, but so was the rest of their job.

Their entire body ached, covered in cuts and bruises. Their worst injury thus far, a stab wound that their younger captor had put in their shoulder on the second day, was infected for sure. If the bodyguard didn’t get treatment soon, they might just die from the festering malady. They’d hardly slept in that time, and been given only a few sips of water and a stale piece of bread for sustenance, and that was three days ago.

The bodyguard was, in a word, exhausted.

After the last session, the bodyguard had been left in their cell. They expected to be left alone while the brothers cooked up something new to throw at them. However, after only a few minutes, their makeshift holding cell, a freezer (the older brother’s idea from two days ago), was opened, and the bodyguard was dragged out, gagged, and strapped to a chair.

They saw through their bruised and swollen eyes,, their charge sitting across from them in a similar predicament.

“How dare you restrain me!” she shouted, “My father will hear of this, and then you two psychos will be sorry!”

The bodyguard flinched as the volume, and the girl took a long hard look at her battered keeper, realizing how much they’d gone through for her sake.

The older brother, a twig of a man standing only 5’2 and a weighing a hundred pounds soaking wet by the bodyguard’s esitmation, made his presence known behind the girl.

“I’m so sorry dear, but your guard here won’t crack, and we thought maybe you might. You care about them, right?”

The girl nodded.

“And you’d do anything to end their suffering, right?”

Another nod from the girl, but the bodyguard had caught on, and shook their head the best they could, silently pleading for their charge’s comprehension as a blow slammed into the side of their head; a now familiar strike from the younger brother. Their vision blurred as they braced for another session of pain. They blearily wondered if their charge would break, and came to the worrying conclusion that she would. They found the silver lining in that they might go home once the girl told the brothers what they wanted.

“Well then dear, all you have to do is tell us about your father’s dealings with the Ventura clan. You have ten chances, and we’ll know if you lie to us.” cooed the older brother, voice sickly sweet like poisoned honey. Nothing good could come for her father if she spilled. She shook her head, perhaps too petrified to speak.

The older brother pouted cartoonishly, then nodded to his unseen younger counterpart. The next thing the bodyguard knew, the hulking younger brother was reaching over their shoulder with a pair of bolt cutters, and in a flash of burning pain, their left thumb was severed.

“Augh!” The bodyguard screamed through their gag, tears threatening to spill. It killed them to show weakness in front of their charge, but it just hurt so much, and they were just so tired.

The girl turned away, but the older torturer tutted and grabbed her head, forcing her to look at the horror scene in front of her.

“It doesn’t have to be this way dear, you can always choose to end this. You have nine chances left, but I’d encourage you to capitulate earlier than that. I’m afraid your poor guard might not be able to take all ten.”

The body guard wanted to tell her the brothers were lying, that they could take anything, but the gag kept them silent. They went to shake their head again, but their younger captor gripped their head and squeezed, tugging at their hair and digging into the cuts and bruises he’d given them earlier in the week.

The girl went to shake her head again, but as soon as she saw the younger brother go to sever the bodyguard’s left index finger, she changed her mind.

“Wait!” she cried. The younger brother paused, inches away from taking off the finger. “I mean, you want to know about my father? Fine. He’s been taking the Venturas’s money for decades. He threw the cops off their trail while he was Attorney General. He and Don Ventura are meeting this coming Saturday at our house. That’s all I know, I swear! Please just… let us go… please.”

The brothers grinned, and the older kidnapper patted the girl as the guard glared at him. “Good girl,” the older one told her, and she knew she’d just blown up her father’s entire life.

@maenr

[notsofunsenpai]

Some nights

Mentions of SA/R@pe,talking about committing, abuse,drugs

If sensitive to any of these pls skip 🥺

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Sleep.Work.Eat.Repeat

Sleep.

Work.

Eat.

Repeat.

Waking up,eyes feeling heavy, not wanting to wake up, but the light from the sun shining into your face says it's time to get up. You spent all your money on rent and bills..so guess it's time to eat leftover stale bread this morning. You go into the bathroom doing your business then go out to the small kitchen where you open the loaf of bread that passed its expiration date,eating three pieces and closing the rest just in case you don't earn any money today. You put your hair into a messy bun then changed into your comfy clothes,flopping down onto the single sofa chair,sure it may be uncomfortable but you learn to get use to it and know the right spot to be comfortable. You turned on your box television,putting on some cartoons, not moving from the spot for hours until it hit nighttime. You finally get up going into your room that has a small dresser,tons of clothes on the ground, and a single mattress on the floor with a soft red blanket on it with two pillows. You change out of your normal clothes into your work uniform.

A bunny uniform,with black boots.

You didn't care what you look like,you knew your body wasn't like anyone else's,then again, no one is the same with different body types. In your workplace, you've seen many females with triangle,rectangle,hourglass,etc.

You didn't really have chest anymore,you got rid of them,it's still healing,got use to the soreness and pain so it doesn't bother you,plus you're taken some pain pills. You leave your place,walking down the sidewalk as the cold air hits you,ignoring everyone to you. No one really has a face to you because they mean nothing to you. They didn't care for you as you didn't care for them,you just minded your business and headed to a building that was baby blue color,entering it as your eyes adjusted to the bright colors and lively people.

People gambling.

People losing

People drinking and eating

People f*cking

V.I.P

You watched your fellow bunny coworkers,having the time of their lives with the customers.

There were all kinds of people they(meaning your coworkers) were somewhat like your family, but you don't really talk to them. You never really did, but being around them and watching them made them seem like family to you. You stared at them for a moment before clocking in,sitting down,doing nothing really. You just kinda waited like per usual. You hated people, but you only had this job because you didn't want to feel alone and thought that sex was the way to be happy and feel loved. So you spent many of your nights having intercorse with multiple people. At first, some nights worked tho the feeling you felt was more pleasure than love. Some nights sex was uncomfortable, but you didn't stop it,even if tears fell down your face because love could hurt,you thought it was normal. Some nights you just stared out into nothingness,thinking what if you just take a bullet to your head,being dead was better than not being loved.some nights you'd be 'laughing' and dancing onto the pole,shaking your ass in front of weridos and creeps. Hating how they see you as a play thing, but you dealt with it,practically feeling them undressing you with their eyes.

Some nights you hide in the bathroom stalls,knees up to your chest while sitting on the close toilet lid,waiting for your shift to end.

Some nights, you got tipped and paid good to eat for a week, but avoiding the lovely customers meant no eating,that's fine as well.

Some night, you found yourself dazed in some hotel on the room floor because the drink you had in it had Rohypnol.

That's fine,you didn't remember what really happened,but the less you know, the better.

Some nights when you get an uncooperative person,you'd end up getting injured or assaulted,having multiple brusies,gashes, and sometimes getting lucky with one or two tiny cuts.

It wasn't easy work but you gotta do it,sure you could get a new job but you didn't.

You wanted to feel something,be useful,anything.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice anyone tapping your shoulder,it must of took this customer a long time of tapping to get your attention,you slowly turn your head towards the stranger.

"Took you long enough. " The male with no face said another day, you thought. Another person you gotta entertain to survive and be happy. From what you can tell, he had brown hair,wearing a red hoodie,along with some sweats and some fake yeezys on his feet.

"Hello." You said politely,"What can I do for you, dear customer?" Putting a smile onto your face.

"How about a cute bunny like you come spend the night with me?" The male said.

You didn't hesitate, you do what the customer asks and wanted.You quickly nodded your head,"Yes,I'd love that."

"Hell yeah,you won't regret it." He said,suddenly lifting his hoodie over his head.

You were surprised at his boldness. Sure, doing right here in the open was sometimes the normal but whatever the customer wants.

You were about to unzip your suit when you suddenly felt the hoodie being put on you,it felt really warm compared to outside and in the building at the moment. You stared at the male with a confused look as you heard him laugh softly.

"You look like you're freezing your ass off. So wear my hoodie to keep you warm." He says half lying and half telling the truth. He was happy that he was wearing a long white sleeve sweater under the hoodie, just in case. Truth be told, he didn't want to be here, but the boys wanted to hang out with cute bunnies in suits and dragged him along. He was bored out of his mind,planning to leave until he saw you. You caught his eyes. You looked like you've been through it all mentally and physically,you looked like you needed someone. On top of that, you were shivering before he had put his hoodie on you. Your eyes had noticeable bags under them,you looked tired and weren't eating well.

"Thanks." You said,feeling his hand placing gently onto your lower back.

"Anytime,let's go." He says,grabbing your rabbit ears,tossing them somewhere,leading you out of the building.

"What do you wanna do tonight? What position or state do you want me in?" You asked .

"That's a surprise." He grins at you.

You nodded your head at him,keeping your eyes on the ground,not bothering looking at your surroundings. Whatever happens,happens.

You guys soon arrive at the destination, and you gently look up,seeing you guys stopped at a restaurant. You stayed quiet as you followed the male into the building,taking your seat as he did as well.

He looks at his menu before noticing you weren't looking at yours,"Do you know what you already want?" He asked you.

"Don't want to be too expensive.." You said unsure of his motives.

He raises his eyebrow at you,"Anything,just get whatever it's my treat."

You nodded,looking at the menu,deciding to order something simple a breakfast burger with cheese grits and some raspberry tea.

Once this stranger decided on what he wanted, he talked your ear off for a good several minutes until the waiter came and got your order and his then leaves.

"Tell me some stuff about you. What's your hobby,favorite color,why you have a job like this if you are clearly unhappy? What's your favorite movie?"

You kinda ignore him as he continues to talk and ask questions for like five more minutes. The waiter came back with the food,placing it down and leaving. You begin to eat,the food tastes good,you have to make sure to savor each bite and be great full that you get to eat a meal today.

The brunette watches you,smiling softly,you may not notice but he did,the ways your eyes lit up alittle when you ate the food but it also saddens him but this is about you not him. He wasn't a fool he was talking to distract you from the pain or try to. He meant well,surprised you haven't told him to shut the hell up yet.

He continues to talk,tho at times to him he did get tired of talking so he shut up himself and eat some as well then talked after he was done.

He patiently waited for you,then once done, he paid, and then you guys left. He had also brought you some funnel cakes before leaving,he then leads you to his apartment complex. He notices you're straggling along. He picks you up,"Those shoes must be killing you,let me carry you." He says kindly. You just let him do his thing.

You arrive at his door,he unlocks it and carrying you inside while turning the lights on. The place wasn't to big or to small,just right. There was a small kitchen right there when you enter the door while a small living room and then a door that leads to the bathroom and another door that leads to his bedroom. He places you down onto the sofa,taking your shoes off,gently messaging your feet,trying to ease the pain then resting it onto his coffe table. He turns on his flatscreen,putting something random on,"I'll be back." He says. You nodded,eating your funnel cakes or whatever you had left,when he returns he's wearing a tank top now along with holding a blanket, he sits next to you along with wrapping the blanket around you two. His arm rested around your waist,bringing you close to him as he rest his head on your shoulder while watching tv.

You were confused,you didn't understand any of this or what was happening,"What are you doing?" You asked.

"Spending some time to you,I don't really care about sex as much just wanna make sure you're taken care of. " He replies.

You were skeptical,it was still to early on this man's real actions but you wouldn't do anything anyhow.

The night went on,you were slowly getting more and comfortable with this man,who you had recently learn his name was kenji,and the first time in awhile you can put a face and personality on him. This was new,you didn't want this feeling to end. He was the only one who generally seem to care about you,he even offer to let you stay here because there would always be food on your plate and someone to talk to. The two of you happened to fall asleep,you passing out first. Kenji smiles softly at you,kissing the top of your head,snuggling close to you as he closes his eyes as well.

When you woke up,you felt that you were on your side,then confuse at your surroundings. You weren't on the couch anymore, you sat up,noticing a note on the bedside drawer,saying that Kenji was going out for a few hours and that he'll be back soon also that he ordered some breakfast for you waiting in the kitchen.

You smiled gleefully.

Maybe this is where your life changes ?

[ceilidho]

the only versions of the cod characters i know are through your fics, but I'm in love with them. i have a huge soft spot for soap. right now I'm mostly familiar with ghost and soap, but willing to read just about anything you write. I'm sold! also the latest ghost as a travel companion fic you just posted? absolutely delicious!!! idk if you're planning on a part 2, but if you are I'll be seated. 👀👀

oh very! especially book!darklina. like valtor and bloom were a gateway drug to darklina, they walked so darklina could run. not all darklina shippers were winx club kids, but if you were one then you're a darklina shipper now. this is scientifically proven lol. the vibes are just super similar and they even check some of the same boxes, without the canonicity tho. (all we got was ship-baited in canon, but that's what fics are here to fix lmao.) like old as dirt immortal with spunky teen protagonist ✔️, them being obsessed with each other (he is definitely more, with valtor other characters even comment on it, but heroine certainly develops symptoms herself) ✔️, shared magic and a magical connection/tether ✔️, the other being the only one they truly can relate to and being very tied to the other's motivations and goals ✔️ and bloom also unfortunately has her very own stale piece of bread of a love interest that manages to be both bland AND a shitty boyfriend. if you ever check them out let us know 👀👀👀

me too :)) i know most people like soap but i need even more people to like and adore soap.

as for the travel companion piece, im actually thinking of turning that into a series!! i have ideas for price and soap as well :) also i need to expand the ghost as travel boyfriend idea ANYWAY because i didn't even write anything sexy......like what a shame....

[enhyupn]

the perfect date! five

masterlist | previous | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 4.6k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned, jealousy, arguments + there might be grammatical and spelling errors in this 😞

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n this was a rollercoaster to write but also i tried to think about what i would do in that situation 🤨 i lowkey hate how i wrote tho but!! i tried to tie it in with the next part so

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush @penghoons @min-arya @sunooflowerss @badroseee @cha-raena @ghjasksdk @strawr @jaypen @nanachuu @nikisboxysmile @softkons @kisshoons-main @enha-woodzies @hwngslove

groggily walking up to multiple missed calls instead of your usual alarm wasn’t what you were exactly expecting on a wednesday morning. you couldn’t even feel your arm moving to pick up your phone on your bed side table, the numbness in your fingers slightly going away as you accepted the call.

you hadn’t even spared a glance at the caller id, not even caring at the point if a scammer was the one spamming your inbox. you wanted to get over with the call as soon as possible. you contemplate for a second, your brain not fully awake asking yourself if you should put the phone on speaker or not. your decision was made with a drowsy tap, the sound of a familiar voice flooded your bedroom (crossing out the scammer possibility).

“i’m outside, i can see your window from here” the oddly cheerful voice took over your senses, snapping your eyes wide open at the volume. you sit up from you bed, confused why he was so energetic at six thirty in the morning. you couldn’t help but crack your back and arm into the mic, the stiffness going away with the cost of jake cringing at the sound. “why did you need to do that at full volume?”.

“it’s therapeutic” you retaliate, your voice still sounding a little rough due to just being woken up. you had to fight the urge to bicker with jake, knowing it wouldn’t end well with your drowsy state of mind. you sigh, one leg out of the bed with the full intention of flipping jake off from your bedroom window. “you know what time it is, right?”.

“you know what time sunghoon wants us there at, right?” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes when opening your flimsy curtains, a self reminder to change them in the later week. “there you are” a smile intertwining with his words. you couldn’t help but dismissively shake your head when your eyes caught a glimpse of jake’s figure waving at you enthusiastically, you could even see his smile brightly shining on you.

“get inside” you ask him with your eyes slightly closed, your hands running through your hair sleepily. “i’m scared that if you stay there for any longer you’ll be reciting romeo and juliet to the whole neighbourhood”.

“rise up, beautiful sun, and kill the jealous moon. the moon is already sick and pale with grief because—” his short lived shakespeare performance was dropped in an instant when you ended the call. with your eyes following him as he made his way to your doorstep, a light giggle escaping absentmindedly. your eyes widened at your action, not expecting it at all.

“what the hell was that” you almost slapped yourself in shock, shaking it off you drop your phone onto your bed (throwing it would be the more realistic word honestly). a loud groan coming out of your mouth when your tiredness finally caught up to you, a reminder than you had woken up just to go to school. “jake sim did not just make me giggle like a school girl” you whispered, embarrassed by yourself as you held up your school uniform in disgust, a wave of shudders falling onto you.

even without the presence of jake in front of you, you knew that he was almost impatiently waiting for you in your living room right underneath you. with one last tug at your obnoxious tie, you take a closer glance at your mirror. your hands fidget around your face, hair and anywhere you thought you needed to fix up on. humming the lyrics of a catchy song stuck in your head, you feel your heart suddenly drop at the memory of the previous night before.

as dramatic as it may look, you were not ready to see jay later in the morning. embarrassing yourself and being potentially confessed to was the first part of your worries, having to face him after doing those was now currently your main problem. you contemplate for a moment, eyes trained your your reflection in the mirror as a way to build your slowly deteriorating confidence. with a deep breath you closed your eyes, the calming air surrounding you finally taking it’s place—

“are you ready?” multiple loud knocks interrupted you abruptly, scaring you to the point of almost screaming. you knew from the ability to comfortably go around your home like it was his own, that this impatience came from jake himself. you roll your eyes as you roughly grab your bag from the corner of your room, your expression not growing any more happier when you swung your door open.

“you’re so annoying, you know that right?” you mentioned as you stomped past him, the boy only chuckling to himself seeing you so agitated. he followed you down to your dining room, his feet feeling light as he bounced around you excitedly.

“we’re also going to be late” he mentions, pausing his words to look down on his oddly expensive watch. you chew on a piece of toast that seemed to be a little stale, your eyes bringing themselves to the shiny object in admiration. you knew that jake was well off but from the looks of it, he was definitely more than just well off. “do you like it?” his words catch you off guard.

“what?” you blink a few times, you feel yourself snapping back into reality watching jake chuckle to himself quite theatrically. you scowl slightly when he shook his hands in the air to dismiss his previous comment, using two of your fingers to try and shove in the rest of the toast.

“you’re gonna choke on that you know?” jake mentions to you as he walked around your living room. you hadn’t even noticed his wandering curiosity until you heard his voice in the background. you shake your head, trying to send the message to him that you’ll be alright. with your eyes trained on your best friend, you couldn’t help but grin softly to yourself at the sweet expression on his face.

you noticed in his hand was a picture of you from your first day of high school (jake nowhere to he seen since you two didn’t start to be aquatinted until later on in the day). his eyes light up in almost delight at your small awkward figure in front of your school, his head turning excitedly towards you with the picture held out in his hand. you laugh at his enthusiasm before making your way to him, not forgetting to gulp the last piece of bread in your mouth.

“you’re so cute in this!” jake’s compliment only brought him a light slap on the shoulder in retaliation, a shy smile on your face hiding from him. he brings the photo closer towards you, you could almost feel how amused he was from just standing beside him. “how have i never seen this before?” he questions, his eyes still glued to the old picture of you.

“because it’s embarrassing” you express, a sigh escaping your mouth as you take the picture from his hands. “i can’t believe you saw me looking like this and was like, let me talk to them!” an energetic snort coming out of your nose. jake only stared at you sheepishly at your words, knowing the full truth behind his introduction to you.

“well actually—”

“it’s almost seven” you exclaim in shock. jake closed his mouth in almost in an instant, his shy attempt to reveal his actions behind the first day of school. “the bus comes on ten minutes” you place a finger onto your chin to think about what your next move should be, run to brush your teeth and inevitably be late for the bus or be on time for the bus but brush your teeth in the gross bathrooms on campus?

“are we gonna go?” jake questions as he fiddled with the strap on his bag. you stare at him for a second, the action creeping out the boy just a little bit due to your trained eyes looking more like a glare than anything. “hey, earth to—”

“jake, i’ll be back in about...” you back up briskly, your feet already guiding you to your bathroom. you could see the boy’s eyes roll, knowing all too well what you were about to do. this hasn’t been the first time you’ve almost caused the two of you to be late for the bus, this time might also just be added to that already long and tiring list. “i’ll be out in four minutes! get you’re feet warmed up we can make the bus in five minutes without stopping!”.

“y/n you can just—”

“jake trust me!” you shouted from your bathroom, slightly muffled from the toothbrush in your mouth. even with your annoying actions, jake didn’t seem to let that shy smile falter on his lips. with his hands running through his hair he only tried to think of the positives in this situation, your timing was always mostly good (a 60% chance you were actually going to make it to the bus on time!).

i’ll trust them jake thought to himself hopefully. when i have i ever doubted them?

jake wishes that this was the only time he would ever doubt you. as much as he loves you, he knew that standing at the bus stop watching your hourly bus drive off wasn’t something he was going to instantly forgive you for. he takes a glance at you, your apologetic expression taking over your face as you pouted your lip. even with his overbearing crush on you, nothing was able to control his soon to be burst of anger.

“you told me—”

“i only estimated!” you put your hands up in the air defensively. you were now chewing your cheek in dissatisfaction at your timing just being a second off, maybe you should of jumped in front of the bus to force them to let you in or even something along those lines. “hey, maybe we should—”.

“i’m not taking anything from you right now” jake stopped you, you nod admitting your mistake knowing if you were him you wouldn’t trust yourself either. “god” he sighs out in frustration, your guilt creeping in when he started to rub the temples of his forehead in defeat. “you text sunghoon we might be late, if we start walking now we might be able to be there in twenty minutes”.

“huh— oh okay” you spoke timidly, “i’m sorry by the way”. your eyes avoiding his in embarrassment from this whole situation, staring at your moving feet as you made your way down the road to your school. jake’s eyes softened at your awkwardness, even though you messed up he still couldn’t find himself hating you with everything in him (only hating you with some parts of him).

his eyes trained on your hands, rapidly typing out a message to sunghoon in an attempt to redeem yourself for your wildly incorrect timing. his stare traced your ever changing expressions, your lips turning into a flat line at sunghoon’s dissatisfying bland reply before plastering a small smile on your face. jake knew well that it wasn’t the time to get suspicious or jealous, already being mad at you for a short period of time was enough negativity with his feelings surrounding you. nevertheless, he tried to take a peak at your phone, wanting to see what exactly placed a small smile on your face.

his eyes seemed to fail him as all he could get were motion blurs of your screen, the messages and words shaking through his eyes making them unreadable for the most part. he could only catch a small jay on the side of your phone, a small scowl appearing on his face at the sight. yes, the two did previously make some sort of oath to not play the jealous side character but jake couldn’t help but prepare himself for that role. with his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, he looks back at your face, your side profile almost causing him to cough on his spit. blank silence falling right onto him.

why didn’t he know what to say? talking to you was easy but in this moment, the confrontation of asking you what exactly you were with jay scared him so much that it almost rendered him speechless. he kept opening his mouth over and over again, no words appearing as he, at the same time, tried to think of a way to start a conversation with you.

“jay told me something last night” jake silently thanked you for subconsciously reading his mind. he watched as you placed your phone into your pocket, your breathing slightly uneven due to the speed walking. “i want advice because i genuinely don’t know what to think and you’re the only person in my life currently”.

“what did he say?” he couldn’t let his curiosity show that much, sounding a little bit uninterested through his words. “was it something like—”

“i think he confessed to me last night” you exclaimed blankly. jake almost felt himself stop in the middle of the street but, the fact that you two might soon feel the wrath of an annoyed sunghoon was the thing that stopped him from doing so. he stared at your eyes simply blinking with no emotion, like you were trying to figure out how you were supposed to feel yourself in that moment. “i asked when he started and stopped liking me— something like that but, then he said he’s never stopped liking me?”.

“i think that honestly speaks for itself” he forced out a laugh, trying to appear calm compared to the loud screaming in his head with himself. he noticed your head turning to you, a sigh letting out as you aggressively placed your hands into your school blazer in an attempt to express whatever you were feeling.

“i know but— never mind just forget it” you try and begin to ramble, stopping yourself from feeling more exposed than you already were. at one point, through your very quick thought process, you decided that keeping your feelings in wasn’t going to do any good for your relationship with jake. plus, you trust him and you desperately needed advice on something like this. “i’m just confused, how has he liked me for this long? and i didn’t even have a clue that he liked me in any way too”.

“what are you trying to say?” jake shakily asked, the pace of your walking already slightly quickening with each word the two of you were saying. he could feel rocks and sticks under his shoes but it didn’t stop him from stably walking along with you.

“what i’m saying is” you let a sigh out blandly, the exercise not really getting to you just yet. “and without being a bitch about it too, jay has the capabilities to have any person he likes like him back? why me? some loser in his middle school class that helped him and sat beside him a few times?”.

“don’t call yourself a loser” he rolls his eyes in your self deprecation. you chew on your lip in discomfort at his reply, unsure what to say to it. “you have so many qualities that are loveable, if anything you have the capability to have anyone you like, like you back”. jake could feel his ears heat up in embarrassment at his mini praise.

“you’re only saying it because you’re my best friend” you mumbled quietly, not really wanting him to hear you in all honesty. you try and look at the view around you, the embarrassment now seeking in due to your negative feelings. “sorry about this—”

“i’m not saying it as your best friend” jake sternly confessed, taking a gulp at his soon boldness. “i don’t know if you’ve forgotten but, i’m saying it as someone who’s in love with you”. your head automatically turned towards him, like something about his words were magnetic. you’ve heard this all before but, hearing it again with more sincerity only caused your cheeks to heat up uncontrollably. your heart loudly beating in your chest as you tried to steady your feet, unsure if his words were about to trip over at any moment.

“i know more than anyone why someone would like you” he continues, not stopping to even see your expression at all. you feel your feet slow down to a final stop, standing with your eyes staring at his face blankly. yet, even with the plain look on your face, it spoke almost a million words to jake. “you’ve known this since i’ve confessed, i’m not just your best friend y/n”.

you wince in your head to yourself at the mention of your unofficial rejection, your missing reply to his confession stinging you as much as it did to him. you could see his hands slightly shake, the emotions now catching up to the rest of his body. you could feel your eyes almost melt at his awkward yet bold stance, knowing that he was very serious about what he was saying.

“i didn’t know i was this good at keeping things in but this has bothered me ever since i’ve told you i liked you yesterday” you noticed the flutter of cherry blossom leaves fall around him, perfectly contrasting the mess of a scene unfolding right in front of your eyes. if anything, this was a scene made for movies but, upsettingly, you were the one that had to personally make jake feel so vulnerable like this. “please, give me an answer. i don’t care if you can’t return my feelings i just want some sort of reply— please”.

“i— i can’t” you finally had some input into this. with your mouth slightly agape your words disappeared, the shock rendering you speechless. you stood in front of him, with your eyes shaking, unsure what exactly you should do.

you would of never expected this on a morning right before school, before a meeting with another two possible love interests nonetheless. you didn’t know how to reply to him, one part of you wanted to say no, the fear of losing your best friend over something like a relationship not working out scared you to no end. the other part wanted to say yes, but you were unsure where this answer was genuinely coming from. you definitely have, in the past, thought of being romantically involved with jake but soon then quickly threw the thought away in embarrassment.

you only had one answer for him, the genuine yet unacceptable i don’t know. you didn’t know what the future would hold for the two of you in either of the yes or no options. you played with your fingers, avoiding as much eye contact with the boy as you could. in the corner of your eyes you could see his feet shuffling on the spot, a clear sign he was growing more agitated with your silence.

“i get it” he softly stated, you could of sworn you could of even heard a scoff escape his lips too. “i don’t know what i’m saying, jay was right! why am i always pressuring you in these situations? i’m supposed to be someone that comforts you— i’m supposed to—”

“what are you saying jake? you’re always there for me so why am i— why am i the one always hurting you?” you demanded to know, your small tears beginning to well up at your own words. the both of you finding undeniable truth in your sentence, even if it did hurt you to admit that.

“can we just forget this ever happened?” he pleaded, his knees growing weak from the obvious shaking in his joints. you knew even with the conversation only lasting a mere ten minutes, it’s completely drained everything from the two of you. “i shouldn’t of asked... i’m sorry—”

“i want” you began, your eyes closing absentmindedly trying to think harder about your next line. “i want to say yes jake, i desperately want to”. you bit your lip, the action not at all soothing your state of mind.

“then why can’t you?” he began to insist, the previous eagerness reappearing at the sound of hope. “you can say yes—”.

“i’m confused!” you cried out, your hands grabbing the top of your head in distress as you tried to comprehend this situation. “i’m confused about everything! jay, sunghoon— you! everything is happening so fast, nothing is making sense to me; it’s all nonsense. jake i want to say yes, i desperately do, but it’s not that easy for me”.

silence fell on the two of you after your miniature rant, the two of you finally running out of things to say. at once, your eyes were locked on his, the intimacy almost driving you mad yet again. you could see his chest mirror yours, the heavy yet soft breaths escaping his mouth from the excessive conversation. you shove your hands back into your pockets, trying to find comfort in the sudden warmth rushing to your hands.

“can we go back?” jake was the first to declare something, the look of defeat taking over everything in him. “go back to last week, what we were? just best friends that hated world history together?”.

“and forget about all of this?”

“it’s for the best y/n” he sighed, realising how stressful this was for the two of you. “just for my sake? you don’t have to properly answer me until you’re ready”.

“is this what you really want?” your face softens, your feet bringing you closer to the boy. your heart stings when you see him take a step backwards, his feelings well too obvious through his actions.

“of course not” he answered, his fingers rubbing the back of his neck bitterly. “but, i’m not going to be stupid about this. you’re too important to me, if i let you go like this i would beat myself up for the rest of my life”. a sad chuckle escapes his lips, one that spread a frown across your mouth.

“i don’t know—”

“just say yes” he in some way demands, the time for your answer impatiently ticking away. his previous emotional state being replaced with an irritated mood that wanted questions to he answered as quickly as possible. his eyes rolling was the last thing you had expected, causing you to scowl in annoyance.

“fine” you cross your arms defensively. you feel your feet start to make their way down the road, anger now taking over you at his sudden change of mood. you turn your head, getting a look at jake’s standing figure staring at you in confusion. “i thought we were forgetting about this whole thing?” you hadn’t meant to come off as aggressive as you did, the harshness almost making you flinch.

jake just stared at you blankly, watching you toughly turn around before, what it seemed to be, stomping the rest of your way to school. the thought of your festival booth meeting now being a past memory, knowing that the two of you would definitely be late when you finally arrive to the school. he lets a sigh out before taking his first step, the wind making him struggle with not looking like an idiot that just got his heart broken for the second time by the same person.

in the back of him mind he made a reminder to tell sunghoon that the two of you were sorry for missing the meeting, knowing he had a soft spot for you, he wouldn’t be that mad if jake explained exactly what had happened. he lets out a long and deep sigh, the feeling of pure annoyance lacing it. he knew he couldn’t predict what the future was about to hold for the two of you, staring at your obviously irritated stomping in front of him hazily.

scarily enough, the realisation that another person was also observing this mess of a morning hadn’t dawned on him just yet. in fact the same person had watched this whole argument go down.

lee heeseung with wide eyes tried to soak in what had happened, the boy firstly only noticing you two as a coincidence but stayed on purpose when he had noticed your conversation didn’t really go down the road he had originally assumed it would go. when he had noticed that you two finally made a lengthy distance from him, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket in pure surprise, fumbling with it already knowing he was going to talk to.

heeseung: your crush y/n... do they have a best friend named jake?

sunghoon: Yes, why do you ask? Also, why aren’t you at school yet?

sunghoon: Can you see them actually? They are late for the meeting we have, actually they’ve just about missed it. Very unlike Y/N.

heeseung: i think there’s a problem .

sunghoon: I already know about Jake’s crush on Y/N, I doubt there is anything worse than that.

sunghoon: Jay has a crush on them too. Popular person.

heeseung felt guilty when he had finished typing out his reply, he knew how much sunghoon liked you and telling you that you indirectly admitted to jake that you liked him too was probably very problematic to sunghoon’s already fragile feelings. he takes a deep breath in before hitting the send button, scared for his reply.

heeseung: i think y/n likes jake too...

sunghoon: Oh, really?

sunghoon: I can’t say I didn’t expect that. Of course they would like him, they’re perfect for each other.

the boy felt himself frown at his phone, knowing well that behind sunghoon’s reply was an emotional wreck. sunghoon been holding onto that crush on you for almost a year, he had told heeseung his secret the very first moment he had realised it. hours before heeseung received multiple texts from his friend, excitedly telling him about walking with you home and how he had successfully flirted with you. heeseung had known sunghoon for his whole life, being neighbours did honestly help the situation along with their parents being friends. the boy can’t ever recall a time where sunghoon had feelings that were even remotely romantic, only ever being confessed to instead of the one confessing.

heeseung: i’m sorry hoon

sunghoon: No, it’s okay! They’re a good friend anyways so it’s good that I can still talk to them :)

heeseung: sunghoon i promise to you that i will help you

sunghoon: There’s nothing to help with, I’m satisfied with the situation now

heeseung knew very well that sunghoon wasn’t satisfied with the situation, knowing he was probably playing with his sleeves anxiously staring at the classroom door waiting for you to walk in. he tried to quickly rack through his head for some ideas to help his dearest friend in this situation. his eyes lighting up ecstatically when he had finally figured out the perfect plan, one that was sure to work perfectly for sunghoon.

heeseung: go on a date with y/n

heeseung: all three of you go on a date with y/n to be exact

however, his message had more to what it said. he could feel a proud grin growing on his face at his plan finally making sense in his head. to make it more clear, this plan obviously had some sort of advantage for his best friend.

three dates, all with you. what more could you add to a perfect plan like that? all he need to do next was convince you to go on those three dates.

which could be an easy task... hopefully?

[det395]

First Fic Lines Game

Rules: DON’T REBLOG THIS ONE, MAKE A NEW POST! List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

thank you for tagging me @randomcat1832 !

The next one to move in is a man. Just a man, no one else. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/35880031)

Jin Ling hears a familiar screaming. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/35388547)

Will falls asleep with his cheek pressed to a picture of a dead girl. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/34850707/chapters/86779342)

Will runs through the woods, his gun swinging back and forth in his arms as he builds up speed. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/34172935)

That can’t be comfortable. The meadow is filled with little rocks and bumpy ridges from all the rain over the last couple of days. The dandelions and a few surviving flowers tickle and prick Phil’s skin, but Dan is a pretty heavy guy; he must have crushed them all beneath his limbs. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32390650/chapters/80305843)

The queue moves along fast, and he drags his shoes along to purposefully elevate the scuffling noise in the room. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20609723/chapters/48935468)

“That sounds like a crock of shit,” is the very first thing Kaz says that evening. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32711686/chapters/81153673)

Inej sat by the window on the top floor of the Slat, picking at a stale piece of bread and smiling at every crow that fluttered toward her. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32224639)

They all turned at the sound of the doorknob jiggling against the lock, followed by the sound of a cane rapping against the door. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32185867)

He felt as though he would be lost wandering the dark woods for the rest of time. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32057113)

takeaways:

huh it seems like a lot of my first lines are dropping a character right into some action or description with no context. a lot are very short and abrupt sentences that sound weird out of their paragraphs that slowly start to make sense (like #5 that i kept a few more sentences on for). i think sometimes i want to make the sentences a bit easier at the start until letting the reader get a sense for the tone, if that makes sense. i’m kind of surprised i only start with one quote and i think id find more in some of my earlier fics! i also forgot how diverse my recent fcs have been wow like bottom to top it goes dark hannibal fairytale, polycrows, dunyasha/inej rarepair, intense hannibal/soc crossover, updates to old dystopian phan, old magical realism phan, angery hannibal porn, my attempt at torture porn, crack-y untamed, and kpop ghost romance. cool to see tho always a bit self-conscious looking back at old lines, especially with how the first lines can really make or break if a person reads!

i am completely blanking so if anyone wants to do this please go ahead!

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Why try to be artsy? This is pure unrequited pining.

Idk what came over me, the writing bug has once again bit me and I’m going to embarrass myself by posting all of it. 

This one I kinda like tho...

Warnings: none fam. unless yearning angst is just too much for your soul today

__________

You sat across the fire from Geralt, sore and exhausted, but unable to sleep. You had a feeling he wouldn’t be sleeping either. 

Not a word passed between you as you wolfed down some stale bread in hopes a full stomach would lull you into blessed nothingness. The silence was not uncomfortable, rather gentle and relieving. There was no need to perform or force anything. You were the type of tired that only comes from ridiculous efforts exerted through the day and at the very least, you felt you could relax into it without guilt. 

If it weren’t for the fact that you were camped a little too far off the main road and a little too sore to be comfortable you would have fallen asleep as soon as you dismounted your horse. Instead, you were kept up by every crack of a twig. Any weight shift from the horses had you tensed and ready to jump if your muscles would even respond at this point. 

Geralt seemed content to keep watch, signaling you to lie down with a curt nod. 

You knew it was hopeless, but you laid down on your stomach and rolled up some old clothes for a pillow regardless. You laid your head down facing the fire and consequently Geralt as he scanned the tree line. 

If he knew you were watching him he would surely turn away, but he was too lost in thought to notice. The warm light from the fire danced across his face, catching the golden flecks in his eyes like glittering jewelry on a noblewoman’s neck. He was just close enough that you could see the slim ring of sandy brown around the outside of his irises that made the gold all the more striking. Everything about him was striking, but especially his eyes. His dark lashes only emphasized their beauty. You noticed smile lines forming where his cheeks met his temple and smiled yourself. Those were new. There were worry lines too, a seemingly permanent crease between his brows that only disappeared when he was truly laughing or asleep, but there was a nice balance these days. 

You observed him as he chipped caked blood out of the broach he kept on his sword’s hilt, his eyes focused and full of regret. For what you didn’t know, but you were sure he was being too hard on himself. He always was. 

Normally you would take over watch if you had gone this long without sleep, but something selfish inside you prevented it. You simply gazed at him, soaking in every detail like your life depended on it; like he might fade from existence if you didn’t. You would never admit it, but you had let him become your protector and your constant. You had let yourself need him and now there was no going back. When you were apart you worried. When he was in pain you barely contained the frantic energy coursing through your veins. When he was angry with you you thought you might crumble into dust and float away on the wind. But when he smiled at your stupid jokes or nasty comments about a prideful lord you felt every cell in your body sing.  

As much as you wanted to comfort him, feel the weight of his head on your chest as you run your fingers through his hair, you knew he would only flee. He would spit some lie about how he’s poison to anything pure and spur Roach into a gallop down the road, leaving the vulnerability behind. So instead of joining him where he sat and leaning your head on his shoulder, potentially shattering that already fragile friendship, you laid and observed.

You watched him until you fell asleep, his rugged yet delicate features haunting your dreams. 

[kriscme]

One Life to Live

Hi, so now we come to the end.  The final two chapters.  Thanks to everyone who’s been following this story.  It can be read on AO3 too.  My name is Kris22 there.  As always, thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take” available on AO3 and Fanfiction.  And thanks to Loueze for her encouragement and support.  Chapter 37 By the time the television crew was due to arrive, Peeta and I were as convincingly in love as two people could possibly be.  Of course, it was helped a great deal by the fact that we actually were.  Even so, we were hardly looking forward to our private lives becoming public again and cameras following us around as we went about our daily routine.  We worried about how intrusive it might be. Cressida had promised it would be tasteful, but the Capitol idea of tasteful can be very different from the districts.  I was afraid that it might be like that show I once saw on television about a houseful of people under constant surveillance.  They couldn’t even shower in privacy.  Would it be like that for Peeta and me?  Would they follow us into the bedroom?  Expect us to perform?  Our one consolation was that we’d be left alone once filming had ended and we vowed to ourselves that we’d do nothing newsworthy for the rest of our lives.   The day came. The house had been cleaned and tidied.  Everything was where it was supposed to be to reflect a couple who lived together as romantic partners.  Buttercup was bathed and freshly groomed.  I had the scratches to prove it.  Peeta, always considerate, had baked an assortment of breads for the crew, although I told him he shouldn’t bother.  At 7 am everything was in readiness.  10 am came and went.   And then 11 am.   At 2 pm we were still waiting.   At 4 pm we wondered if we’d got our dates wrong.   It was 6 pm when Haymitch finally got around to telling us.  They weren’t coming.  At all.   The video Remus took had violated victor media protection.  I had been filmed without my consent, wasn’t engaged in illegal activity and hadn’t voided my own protection by taking on a public role or seeking publicity.  Plutarch knew this but gambled that in our ignorance, we could be coerced into co-operating.  And once filming had started, our media protection was automatically revoked, since we had clearly consented to it.   It took only one phone call from Haymitch to President Paylor to have it sorted.   I suppose it’s of some consolation that Plutarch was severely reprimanded and threatened with dismissal.  And that he was also out of pocket for the purchase of the video and pre-production costs. As for Haymitch, I couldn’t decide whether to thank him or kill him.  He had certainly saved us from our lives being turned into a media circus for a second time but he’d let us have the worry of it for a whole week.  Peeta calmed me down and reminded me that it had brought us together.  Haymitch’s defense was that he was sick to death of our crap and wanted an end to it. He thought that a week of living together would get us sort out our differences and he was proven right.   I argued that it would have happened anyway, although I had to concede probably not as quickly.  With that in mind, I decided to let him live.   The year rolls around.  Peeta doesn’t move back into his house. It was never discussed; it was simply taken for granted.  We keep busy.  Peeta still works at the bakery as a specialist cake decorator.  He’s a partner now.  The sign above the new premises reads “Carter and Mellark Bakery and Patisserie.”  I teach at the school and on weekends I hunt. Marcus wrote to ask if I was interested in culling pest species such as wild dog and feral pig.  I jumped at it.  It seems you can be a hunter and a conservationist.   Haymitch works at the council and raises geese, which he does a pretty good job of considering he’s inebriated most of the time. We attend two weddings and one toasting.   Arthur and Lace don’t wait long before they tie the knot, or to be more accurate, thread the needle. Predictably, it was the source of much hilarity for Max, who was also invited.  At least he refrained from making jokes until after the ceremony.  I enjoyed catching up with Sateen and her husband Roy. They have a little boy.  They called him Felt.   Poor kid.   The second wedding was Octavia and Thom’s. Octavia made a beautiful bride with her rich auburn hair and fresh complexion.  Venia’s fear that their past as prep team to the Games would jeopardize their position in 12 proved needless.  Everyone knew who they were.  They’d seen them on television.  Flavius’s bright orange hair and Venia’s facial tattoos made them easily recognizable. But people had moved on.  They were tired of holding onto resentments – especially for three harmless beauty therapists whose former “victim” still willingly availed herself of their services.   The toasting was ours.  One day, we just did it.  There was no planning, no prior understanding that we’d have one.  It was the middle of winter.  We were snowed in and confined to the house.  Peeta got a roaring fire going and we picnicked in front of it using odds and ends from the pantry.  We had some stale bread to use up and toasted it by the fire.  He’d hold the toasting fork with a piece of bread to the flames and offer it to me when it was done.  The significance of it entered our heads at the very same moment. It was just a look followed by a kiss. Nothing needed to be said.  One day we might make it official, but for us we’re more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us.   Johanna won the election for District 7 mayor. She’s kept very busy but we talk on the telephone regularly.  She’s coming to visit 12 for a few days next month.   Doubtless she’ll be as disruptive as ever.  But sometimes we can use a little stirring up.  That’s what Johanna says anyway.  She takes full credit for getting Peeta and me back together and I can’t say she’s entirely wrong.   And we had a visit from my mother!  I had her possessions shipped to her home in District 4 and it seemed to have jolted something inside her, because soon after she was making plans to travel here.   It was a short visit.  She was nervous about coming here, of the memories it could evoke.  But aside from the Village, there’s nothing left of the old Twelve.  The debris from the bombs has long since been cleared away, new buildings have replaced the old, and the grass grows long and thick over the meadow.   We had a long talk about her reasons for not joining me in Twelve after I’d been released from the Capitol.  She feared being pulled down into a depression along with me.   I understood.  When you’re in the grip of it, you can see no way out.  My mother, having recovered once, was deathly afraid that she wouldn’t recover a second time.  And since misery feeds on misery, she would likely have only made mine worse.   Peeta is somewhere in the house repairing the painting of the primrose he did for me.  I don’t visit Prim in her room anymore except for that one time I when I wanted to tell her about my toasting with Peeta.   She wasn’t there.  She hasn’t been for a long time.  It was then I realized that Prim doesn’t reside in any particular place.  She’s with me every time I think of her.  I took down the primrose painting from the top of the dresser.  It belongs somewhere where I will see it every day.   I had an idea for a book, similar to my family’s plant book.   It’s to preserve the happy memories of the people we’ve lost.   Lady licking Prim’s cheek, what Cinna could do with a length of silk.  In my best handwriting, I carefully record all the details it would be a crime to forget and accompany it with a photo if we have one, or a sketch or painting by Peeta. There are photos of Finnick strewn across the dining table as I try to make my mind up on which one to use - a publicity shot that shows off Finnick’s sea-green eyes or a photo taken of himself and Annie at their wedding.   “Katniss, I was looking for some kind of adhesive tape to fix the painting and I found this letter in one of the drawers in the study.  It was addressed to me, so I opened it.” I look up, wondering what Peeta’s talking about.  He holds the painting in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other.  He leans the painting up against a wall and then pulls out one of the dining room chairs to sit across from me.  He lays the letter down in front of him.  I immediately recognize the handwriting on it as my own.  It’s the first letter I wrote to him after the mayor’s party before I thought better of it and wrote a second.  But not before putting it in an envelope and stuffing it in a drawer.  I’d forgotten all about it.   I try to snatch the letter away but he swiftly puts it out of my reach.  “Dear Peeta,” he reads. “I’m writing to you because – ““You don’t have to read it.  I know what’s in it,” I say.  “Give it back.”  I make another grab for it but he’s too fast. “. . . because I’m sure to get it wrong, or miss something important if I do this face to face.” He stops reading and hands me the letter.  I take it from him, refold it, and slip it beneath the memory book, hoping against hope, that this will prevent any more mention of it. “Did you really want to break off all contact with me?” he asks, frowning.  “I didn’t think it ever got that bad.  When?  Why?” I sigh. Why didn’t I throw the damn letter out? “It was after the mayor’s party.  I was very upset when I wrote it.  And then I had second thoughts and wrote you another. That’s the one I slipped under your door.  I’d forgotten about this one.” He gives his head a shake. “I don’t understand. Nothing happened that night.  Not between us, anyway.  Did someone say something?  Was it Max?”  His lips thin in anger.  “That – “ “No,” I say quickly.  “It was nothing Max did.” I let out a breath, and plough forward. “It was something you did.  You and Lace.  It was when you sneaked off to have sex.” There’s a moment of stunned silence.  “What?” “You know what I mean.  I saw it all.  Well, not all, but I did see the two of disappear through those swinging double doors only the staff used.   And when you came back, Lace’s hair was all mussed. And if you didn’t have sex exactly, it was something close.  That was really tacky, Peeta.  Civilized people have more decorum than to do that.  Civilized people wait until they get home.  Civilized people – “ “Katniss, we didn’t sneak off for sex. Cass invited me to see the kitchens once the dessert course was over.  That’s where we went.”   Oh.  I guess that’s a reasonable explanation.  But that dream had been so vivid.  “Then why was Lace’s hair messed up?” “Was it?  I don’t know.  I don’t remember anything different about her.  We went to see the kitchen, Cass showed us around, and then we came out. Nothing else happened.”   “But it was sticking out,” I insist.  I know what I saw.   The scene plays again in my head.  I was at the bar with Haymitch and Max, sampling shots of whisky and getting drunker and more agitated by the minute.  Agonizing over what they could be doing.  Kissing, fondling each other, maybe even fucking. “And then you didn’t even look to see if I was still there when you came back,” I add in a small pitiful voice.  It sounds so pathetic, saying it aloud.  It’s a trivial reason for cutting someone out of your life. Just because they didn’t look for you when they came into a room.   But after everything, that’s what tipped it over for me.  What finally made me give up hope and decide to end it. He reaches across the table to take one of my hands.  “Katniss, look at me.” I turn my face away, and he gives my hand a tug.  I reluctantly meet his gaze.  His eyes look earnestly into mine.  “I can’t explain the hair, okay?  But I can tell you what I do remember about that night.” He pauses, as if waiting for my approval before he proceeds.  I shrug.   “Go ahead.” He closes his eyes for a few seconds.  “You, looking so beautiful in your Cinna dress.  And me, assailed by memories of other entrances and other gowns.  Being dragged around by Lace from one boring conversation to another, unable to resist looking around to see what you were doing.  And Max, who didn’t leave your side for a minute unless it was to get you another drink. I was jealous of him without knowing why but attributed it to a fear of losing your friendship.” He pauses and adds, “At the time, you didn’t seem very happy with me.”I feel a twinge of remorse.  He’s right.  I was often moody and distant with him.  The tape viewings weren’t going as I wanted and I’d recently learned of a pattern book he was making for Lace, similar to my family’s plant book.  “You seemed to be having such a good time together, at dinner and on the dance floor. So, when we came back into the ballroom, I just didn’t want to be reminded of it.  I kept my head down and headed for the nearest group of people.  And then I did my best not to think about you.  I’m sorry.   I hurt you and used Lace to hide from my feelings.  But that’s the truth, awful as it is.”   But not nearly as awful as what I’d convinced myself of.   I don’t know what to say.  I feel so foolish.  So much anger and pain for something that existed only in my imagination.   And I’d also assumed that Peeta’s willingness to help me with the Marcus thing was due, in some part, to either empathy or guilt for having being in a similar situation himself. “No, I’m the awful one for jumping to conclusions.  I thought the worst.  You’d never be so crass as to do something like that.  I owe you an apology.  I should never – “ “You don’t owe me anything,” he says, interrupting me before I can go further.   “In fact, the opposite is true.  You wouldn’t have thought it if I hadn’t given you reason to.” He reaches across for the memory book and flips through the pages we’ve done so far.  My father. Peeta’s father.  Boggs.  It stops on Rue.  Peeta has drawn her poised on her toes, arms slightly extended, like a bird about to take flight.  There’s a reason why I asked him to portray her like this.  It’s how I want to remember her.  You can’t change the past, but you can bring the best of it into the future.   “Let’s make a deal.  Only good memories for us from now on.  Like this book you’re working on.”   He walks over to where I’m sitting to pull me out of my chair.  “Now come show me where you want this painting hung.”  I take him into the living room.  It’s the room we use most and where I’ll see it every day.   As I decide where to place it exactly, Peeta comes to stand at my back to hug me from behind.  I lean back against his broad chest and luxuriate in the strong arms that encircle me.   My dandelion in the spring.  The lullaby that Prim liked as a baby comes to mind.   Here it’s safe, here it’s warmHere the daisies guard you from every harmHere your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them trueHere is the place where I love you. “I was thinking over the mantle?  Or maybe on the far wall . . .”    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 38 Lace’s story: what happened on the night of the mayor’s party.   It wasn’t fair!  This was supposed to have been her night.   She had been looking forward to it for weeks ever since Peeta casually mentioned it on one of their date nights.  The mayor’s inauguration party was to be the biggest social event in District 12 in living memory.  All the important and influential people in the district would be there.  For ambitious Lace, it was invaluable in terms of creating contacts and securing the kind of clientele that could afford to buy her evening wear, a design niche she wanted to develop.   Besides, she dearly loved a party and she hadn’t been to one in ages.  The last one had been the district party where she had met Peeta for the first time.   He didn’t remember it though.   That was fortunate since she had come to District 12 for a new life and a new identity and didn’t want her past in District 8 compromising it in any way.   Since she was to be her best advertisement, she put a great deal of thought and effort into her gown.  She hadn’t much money saved but she splurged the lot on pale yellow satin and then spent many hours making it up.   The final touch was a trip to the salon to have her hair colored and styled.  It was an extravagance, keeping up the hair color.  But she loved it and it formed something of a disguise as it was subtly different from the typical ash brown of the natives of her home district.   As she entered the ballroom, Lace felt she was at the beginning of an exciting new phase.  After a slow start, her business had gained momentum and she was making a steady income.   A few family members had also made the move to 12 which added to her sense of security.  But best of all, was the man on whose arm she clung.  How did she get so lucky?  Peeta Mellark!  Her teenage crush.  The romantic heartthrob whose posters had adorned her bedroom wall.  The boy she had married in her dreams every night.  What a fortuitus twist of fate it had been that day when he came into her shop to have a coat made.  A flirtation had led to a date at a restaurant and then another, until she could now, without exaggeration, call him her boyfriend! True, he wasn’t quite what she had expected.  He seemed a bit aimless, and he liked activities she had outgrown, like hanging out at the ice-cream parlor and the swimming pool, but he was Peeta Mellark!   And he really was so sweet and considerate with his little romantic gestures and compliments to her beauty.  He told her she was a wonder.  And the more she kissed and flattered and stroked, the more wonderful she became.  It was a mutual admiration society that she was more than happy to live in.  The one blot on her happiness was Katniss Everdeen.  Lace had mixed feelings about meeting her. Katniss was intimidating.  Her reputation as romantic heroine, fearless symbol of the Rebellion, skillful warrior and (privately thought by most of the populace) savior from another Snow, preceded her.  But most intimidating of all was her relationship with Peeta.  He talked about her all the time. Not in a romantic sense, it was true, but it was clear she occupied a great deal of his thoughts.  The Games had been mandatory viewing and Lace, like everyone in Panem, had watched Peeta gaze at Katniss with love in his eyes.  But Peeta had an explanation for that.  It had been an illusion.  He thought he had been in love with her, but it turned out that he was in love with his idea of her, rather than who she really is.  But now he thought of her as very good friend with whom he shared an unbreakable bond.  As for Katniss, well, she had never loved him.  It had all been an act on her part. That should have been reassuring.  And it was.  Sort of.  But Peeta had lost many of his memories and what was left was distorted, so how could he be certain? But what gave her most pause wasn’t Peeta.  It was Katniss.  It was clear at the first meeting that Katniss didn’t like her.  Katniss wasn’t rude, but she was cool, even giving her the once over when they were first introduced.  And when Lace and Peeta discussed a housewarming gift from the two of them for Lace’s brother, a shadow passed over Katniss’s face.  It was subtle but unmistakable.  Katniss wasn’t as disinterested in Peeta as Peeta made out. That’s why Lace gatecrashed the tape viewings.  If there was anything going on, she wanted to know about it.  She didn’t trust Katniss one inch.  Unfortunately, the second of the tapes triggered the memory of a traumatic incident for Lace and she reacted hysterically.  Peeta asked her not to attend anymore and she had no choice but to do as he said.   However, despite Peeta watching video tape of hugs and kisses and romantic slow dancing at Capitol parties, nothing changed between herself and Peeta.  If Peeta had ever loved Katniss, it appeared that he no longer did.   Even Leevy’s revelations in the salon that day didn’t worry her for long.  So what if the star-crossed lovers had been real?  It still aligned with Peeta’s version.  What had happened in the Games and during the tours was before Peeta had realized his true feelings for Katniss.  And she’d already guessed that Katniss was in love with him.   The party was everything Lace had dreamed of. So elegant. The women in evening gowns, the men in dinner suits.  Waiters with silver trays laden with flutes of sparkling champagne. The tables resplendent with starched white tablecloths and napkins and gleaming cutlery.  She turned to Peeta to kiss his cheek. “Thank you so much for bringing me,” she said. “You really are the best boyfriend.”  He brushed her lips with his and gave her a fond smile.  “Only because I have the best girlfriend,” he replied.   She beamed and squeezed his arm.  She could hardly recall a happier moment.   And then Katniss Everdeen arrived.  Lace’s practiced eye immediately recognized her gown as haute couture.  Cinna, probably.  Deep blue, the bodice studded thickly with diamonds – were they real? – with a strapless sweetheart neckline and more diamonds scattered on the skirt.  It dazzled and Katniss dazzled with it.  Luxuriant dark hair cascading down her back in loose curls.  Smooth olive skin, fine features and those surprising eyes.  Silvery gray, the colour of storm clouds.  She had a man for each arm.  The school teacher Max Matson, who all the girls agreed was very good looking if you could get past his personality, and – it couldn’t be – Arthur!  Lace’s friend who adored her since they were children together.  She knew he was coming tonight but not with her!  She felt the arm beneath her fingers stiffen and her glance swiftly turned to his face.  Peeta appeared stunned, his mouth gaping slightly.  There was admiration, certainly, but also something darker and more sinister.  Recognition. A memory, perhaps several, had resurfaced.   Lace’s happiness dimmed as if a cloud had passed across the sun.  But she rallied, pulling Peeta quickly along to greet the new mayor and his wife who were momentarily on their own.  Lace was in her element.  She was a natural networker.  She loved to interact with people and was always searching for opportunities.  Peeta seemed a little distracted though. Looking around, not quite keeping up with the conversation.   She followed his gaze, and it led directly to Katniss Everdeen, who, no surprise, was looking directly at him.  They both looked quickly away, but that was of no comfort.  It was clear that they were on each other’s mind. Meanwhile, she was pleased to observe, Arthur had detached himself from Katniss and was busy working the room too.  Now there was a man with get-up-and-go.  He didn’t let his natural reserve get in the way of achieving his ambitions.  Lace waved him over and he changed direction to come to her side.  Soon they were talking business, a fascinating subject for them both. She didn’t notice how restless Peeta was during the exchange. Dinner was announced and everyone made their way to their allocated seats.  Unfortunately, theirs was a dull table and not even Lace’s pearly laugh could liven it up. A burst of laughter from nearby grabbed her attention.  Arthur and Haymitch seemed to be at the center of it.  It caught Peeta’s attention too.  He seemed envious, it appeared to Lace.  But whether it was over the entertaining company or because Katniss was seated there too, she couldn’t tell. After the food had been served, people resumed their mingling, moving from table to table. Peeta wanted to talk to Katniss.  Ordinarily, Lace wouldn’t feel particularly threatened by this.  Over the preceding weeks, Peeta had confided to her that Katniss seemed uninterested in spending time with him unless it was watching the tapes.  And even then, she often seemed angry with him. Lace immediately guessed the situation. Katniss had grown frustrated with Peeta. He hadn’t responded as she’d hoped and she was distancing herself as a form of self-protection.  As long as this status quo was maintained, Lace felt safe. But after tonight, she wasn’t sure of anything.   Lace demurred.  Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea.  Katniss appeared occupied and hadn’t he told her that she didn’t seem keen on his company lately?  It was best to leave her alone.  But Peeta said that they should, that it would look odd if they didn’t.  So, when Max headed off in the direction of the bar, leaving Katniss on her own, Lace reluctantly let Peeta lead her to where Katniss sat.   It was an awkward conversation.  Lace embarrassed herself with her ignorance on what it meant to be a victor at the district parties and having to face the families of the dead tributes.  Worse, she let it slip that she had been to a district party.  Her story was that she’d been a factory worker in 8. Factory workers weren’t allowed to attend district parties.  Fortunately, Peeta didn’t pick up on it, but Katniss appeared to sense that something was amiss.   There was an awkward pause.  Peeta broke the silence.  “Are you going to let me talk to Katniss?” he said to Lace, pretending to be annoyed.  She had intended to stay at Peeta’s side, but perhaps it would be better to leave before she dug herself a deeper hole. “Okay, okay,” she said, in mock surrender.  “I know when I’m not wanted.  I need to go to the ladies’ room anyway.  Just stay out of trouble and don’t bug Katniss.” There, that would show Katniss who’s really in charge and hopefully plant a seed that Peeta wasn’t exactly happy in her company either.  She stroked his hand and kissed his cheek, enjoying her Svengali-like effect, knowing that his eyes would follow her as she walked away. She went to the ladies’ room as she said she would and did the usual things women do there.  She wanted to get the timing right and was gratified to see Peeta waiting for her at their table when she returned.   The dancing started up soon after and Lace pulled Peeta to his feet.  She loved to dance.  Peeta didn’t. His prosthetic leg made it a chore rather than a pleasure and he had faint memories of dancing at Capitol parties. But he wanted to be a good boyfriend, so up he got, and shuffled dutifully around the dancefloor with her. But then Katniss and Max came into view. Max had Katniss pulled tightly against him and he swung her around in a series of fancy turns, almost lifting her off her feet.  They were making fools of themselves, thought Lace.  That’s no way to behave at a formal event. So undignified!  So tasteless!  She turned to Peeta, expecting him to be as unimpressed as she, but his face was hard, giving away nothing.  Suddenly, he put his head close to hers and whispered words in her ear.   She nodded and followed him through the double swinging doors the staff used to bring food from the kitchen.  It had been pre-arranged.  Peeta had told her about it.  Cass from the bakery was to show Peeta around the kitchens. He had never seen a commercial kitchen before.   While he marveled at the long row of ovens, the walk-in freezer, the huge storage room, Lace could barely stifle her yawns.  So boring, and it was fricking cold in there after the warmth of the ballroom. But she stuck a smile on her face and did her best to appear interested but she was hardly in the mood to hear about the merits of blast chillers when her heart was breaking.  Somehow, she had to widen the gulf between Katniss and Peeta. She had to ensure that any fledgling signs of a possible reunion between them was snuffed out before it could begin. And then she had an idea. Just as they were about to re-enter the ballroom, Lace ruffled her carefully styled hair and swiped the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away some of the lipstick, smearing it a little. Let Katniss believe that she and Peeta had snuck away for some canoodling in a dark corner.  Isn’t that what Peeta and Katniss did as star-crossed lovers?  Sneaking off to be alone when they were at fancy events? It was in a fan magazine she’d read, anyway.  With a bit of luck, Katniss’s mind would go straight there.   She scanned the room and saw Katniss by the bar with Max and Haymitch.  The hour was growing late and the crowd had thinned but there was a group of merry young people standing around nearby.  She started to lead Peeta in their direction, but he seemed to have the same idea and led her.  And when his arm went around her waist and he pressed a fond kiss to the crown of her head, relief flooded through her.  Everything was as it should be.  She turned in his arms slightly to look over his shoulder and managed to catch a glimpse of Katniss’s stricken but resolute face, just before her hasty exit with a startled Max close behind her.   Satisfied, she leaned her head against Peeta’s shoulder and he squeezed her waist.  She had worried over nothing.  It was inevitable that as Peeta regained his memories they’d be focused on Katniss. They were, after all, the memories that Snow had meddled with.  It didn’t mean that Peeta was wrong when he said his feelings for her had been an illusion. The real proof of who he loved was in who he chose to be with.  And that was her, Lace Bomul from District 8.  

[myfriendthedictionary]

*waltzes over to Cali to steal some of your bread* -Patroc

PLEASE THERES SO MUCH BREAD,, they turned out really good tho, but most of them are coffee buns so my father (hates coffee) won’t eat them and my mother (gluten free) can’t. So it’s just me trying to eat this much bread and it’ll probably go stale like. Tomorrow.

[ladybugsfanfics]

Seven Days [1/7]

→ Pairing: prince!Loki Odinson x pirate!reader 

(eventually prince!Loki x pirate!Steve Rogers x pirate!reader)

→ WC:  3.1k

→ Warnings: Smut, some blood gore, idk, awkwardness, nightmares, (countless) sexual innuendos

→ Summary: Prince Loki has run sick of not feeling welcome at the palace and asks to join you and your life forever. You give him seven days to try the new life, seven days to realize how much he loves you. And in those seven days, he learns to know you, and himself (and the first mate) a little better… In the end, he only has one question left to answer. Will he stay?

A/N: I’m so excited for this, and it’s finally here. This was originally a part of @nastybuckybarnes​ writing challenge but that ended in september so I think that ship’s sailed (still tagging you tho, i’m sorry). anyways, i hope you like it as much as i do ^_^

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

PROLOGUE

His cloak flutters as the wind brushes past him. It nips at his exposed skin and nearly drags off the hood covering his face. He wraps the cloak tighter around him, tells his rapidly beating heart he’s making the right decision. 

The night life of Asgard is full, he notes, as he walks into the market square. Most of the booths have closed shop for the evening, yet people walk in hushed whispers and loud yells across the cobblestones. Heels clank against the rough surface, his own along with everyone else’s. The air smells of booze and saltwater, of sweat and perfume. 

He walks past an open inn. Loud noises of music, games, and drinks clattering against each other in celebration fills the open streets. He rushes past, the inn being too close for someone not to recognize him. 

Moments later, the port welcomes him. The booths and a few inns exchanged with taverns and ships lining the docks. Seawater fills his nose as he grows closer. The sounds of earlier fades into the background to leave space for the louder noise of drunk sailors and maids having their fun. A smile tugs at his lips at the sound of the ocean splashing against the stones of the dock. 

A deep breath gives him the courage to walk past the numerous amounts of people around him. He avoids eye contact, keeping his head low as he weaves through the crowd. The wind tugs at his hood again. Trembling fingers pulls it back over his head. His heart beats faster, making its presence in his rib cage known. 

Finally, he sees it. 

In the dark of the night, the ebony wood that lines the ship mixes into the dark blue of the water. The masts rise into the air, sails wrapped around them waiting to be let loose and feel the wind push against them. His eyes scan the people, seeing a few walking the gangplank onto it. 

One person catches his eyes, standing at the helm. The shadow moves along the railing, looking out at the sea. Hair blows in the wind, creating the image of a captain ready to get back on the water. 

His breath hitches at the sight, and he moves his feet faster. Boots clank against the stones, a rhythm he doesn’t mean to make. He stops by the gangplank, waiting for the acceptance to be let on. 

You smile as you catch his eyes in the dark. Not the typical teasing smirk that usually spreads across your features when you meet. Not the happy one you sport when you tell him you love him. Not the sad one you have when you let him know it’s time to leave. 

No. 

This one is special. This smile lights up in your eyes, tells him to take those few steps aboard. Your smile is one he hasn’t seen before. It covers all your emotions. The happiness of him coming. The disappointment of him coming. The excitement for the coming seven days. 

He takes the last step onto the ship. His boot connects with the ships wood, making that one sound he has been dying to hear. Your hands are clasped behind your back. You stand straight and, despite the smile on your face, the authority reeks of you. 

He likes this new image he can see. 

He doesn’t regret it one bit that he asked the question. Seven days is what he has to prove that he can survive on a pirate ship. Seven days to prove that he does love you. Seven days to prove that, even if it’s hell on Earth, it’s hell on Earth with you and he wants to spend every moment in your presence. 

Seven days to prove himself worthy.  

 DAY ONE

Compared to what Loki is used to, everything about the little food he got tastes stale. He drowns the bread down with a glass of wine, and it still leaves his tongue dry and itchy. He’d gotten an old apple at the side, too. ( “A little something on me since it’s your first day,” was what the first mate had added when the man placed the apple next to him. He’d given him a tight, fake smile and patted his back a little hard.)

The apple tastes nothing like apples are supposed to. The usual juicy and sweet bite he expects is bitter, dry and soft. His first reaction would be to spit it out and demand another, but he can’t do that now. He swallows the bite, pinching his eyes shut at the sour taste, and takes a sip of wine to drown out what lingers on his tongue. 

And then he repeats the process until the whole apple, save the core, is gone. His shoulders slump and he takes the last of the wine in one big gulp, in a desperate attempt to completely rid of the dry aftertaste of the apple and the bread that remains in his mouth. 

“Easy there, bud,” says a voice behind him, “wouldn’t want you to down everything on the first day.” 

Loki turns his head. Behind him stands a male clad in a loose shirt and a pair of pants―no shoes. The man has unusually well-groomed, brown hair and a goatee. He smiles at Loki, a lopsided smile that doesn’t really tell Loki anything other than let him know this man might not be of that much importance. 

“I’m Tony,” he says, “most people ‘round here call me Stark.” 

“I’m Loki Odinson, the―” He cuts himself off before he says his title. Not only did he get on this ship to escape that life, it also holds no authority. Maybe he should have dropped the Odinson? It would be an easy connection. 

Tony nods. “I know, everyone knows. Welcome aboard Vicious Storm, prince. Don’t expect special treatment.” He smiles, or smirks? “Or, maybe you should?” 

“Stop bothering him, Stark.” Your voice drags Loki’s attention away from the man in front of him. You stop at Loki’s side, a small smile on your lips as you divert your gaze to Tony. The man does a salute, which has you roll your eyes. The smile stays, though. “Go do something useful.” 

“Will do,” replies Tony. He smirks as he walks down to the other end of the ship. 

Loki looks to you. “What’s in that direction?” 

You widen your eyes, as if you realised something. “Oh, you don’t know where things are yet.” You shake your head. “Down that end you find our surgeon, Dr. Strange. Would recommend saying hi to him every once in a while, though the man doesn’t talk too much with anyone but Stark.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know, he doesn’t really want to be here.” You shrug. “But, that’s not why I’m here now. You done eating?” 

Loki nods. 

“Good.” You nod. “Come with me. Gonna introduce you to some people, though I hear you’ve already met Rogers?”

Loki makes a grimace at the sound of the first mate’s name. “It is not something I would like to repeat.”

You chuckle. “I’m not even sorry when I say that that’s gonna be hard.” You take Loki’s hand in yours, dragging him up from where he sits and with you out into the sunshine that bathes the main deck. 

You walk over to the end (it’s the rear since it has the wheel, right?―Loki notes to learn more about what things are called). In a huddle stands five people, talking and laughing with each other. You cough to get their attention and they all stand up straight.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask, a frown coating your face as your gaze drags over the five people saluting you. 

The first mate relaxes, shooting you a smile (and winks at Loki). “You said to have manners. Ain’t this manners?” 

“This,” ―you gesture at the other four who all relax back into normal postures― “is not what I talked about.”

Rogers smiles. “Sorry, I tried my best.”

You roll your eyes, but an amused smile plays on your lips. Loki finds he rather likes the look in your eyes, only he wishes it wasn’t directed at the first mate―he tries to drown the sting in his heart at your playfulness with him, but he can’t deny the jealousy that comes with you being close to someone as good looking as Rogers. 

“Anyways,” says one of the other men, “why’d you ask us to meet you here?” The male is bald, with a dark complexion Loki hasn’t seen with many other’s of the crew. He noticed a few, but for the most part, there are crew with the same pale, white skin as he himself has.

“Yeah, I want to introduce you.” You nudge Loki a little closer to you and the group, hand still holding onto his. He’s grateful to rely on some of your strength. Being in a different environment than he’s used to makes for interesting jabs at his pride and confidence, jabs he hadn’t thought would come when he’d asked to join you. 

“Loki, this is Wilson. He’s our pilot.” Loki hides his surprise as the man holds out a hand for him to shake―the first one to do so in the little time he’d been aboard the ship. He takes the man’s hand, giving a curt nod to the smile the male sends him. “Bet you’ll get along, at least a little.”

The next person is a male with longer, brown hair that flows around his head and lands past his shoulders. Loki notes that one of his arms is metal, but he decides not to comment and makes a mental note to ask you later. “Barnes.” He doesn’t hold out his hand, but gives a nod which Loki returns. 

“Welcome aboard Vicious Storm, my prince.” The red-headed woman makes a mock-curtsy, looking up at him through her lashes with a bright smirk. The men around her snicker. Loki makes no reaction. 

You roll your eyes. “Mature, Nat, mature.” 

Nat stands up. She gives Loki a more genuine smile, which he returns with a tight-lipped one (that gives away his ‘poker’ face). “Call me anything but Romanoff and I’ll make sure you regret it.” 

Based on her tone, Loki believes her. “Noted.”

“Clint,” says the male next to Romanoff and holds out a hand for Loki to shake. The man, though with a slightly lighter brown shade, has the same styled hair as Tony. Clint also has a goatee, though less prominent. Loki takes the man’s hand and shakes it. He returns the grin Clint gives him, though a little hesitantly. “We’ll be best friends, promise.”

Loki glances at you, and you roll your eyes with a small smile. Of the four he’s been properly introduced to, he has to admit he likes Clint the best. 

And then he turns to the first mate, who eagerly holds out his hand for Loki to shake. “Steve Rogers,” he says, a wicked grin coating his (stupidly handsome) face―jawline covered with a full beard that suits him very well, and longer, blonde hair slicked back (he looks too well-groomed for a pirate). 

Loki, who was raised with manners, takes Rogers’s hand and shakes it. The pressure is slightly harder than Wilson’s and Clint’s, but surprisingly lighter than Loki expected. Rogers leans in, the wicked grin still on his lips. His breath is hot on Loki’s ear. “Please, call me Steve,” he whispers and pulls back. 

You and the four other people raise your brows at the first mate’s behaviour. Loki tries to steady his beating heart (to be honest, Steve gives him a ...weird and almost frightening vibe). 

“Okay,” you say, “that was… I don’t know what that was but I ain’t gon’ ask either an’ now we’re gon’ go before more happens.” You tug on Loki’s hand―the one that has been holding onto his this whole time it’s weird you haven’t pulled away by how clammy it has gotten―and Loki swallows the lump in his throat as he pulls his gaze away from Steve. 

As the two of you walk, Loki takes a glance back at the group. Steve looks after you and Loki, and the other four whisper with each other whilst looking at Steve―had that behaviour been that odd? Loki vows not to be alone with the first mate.

Ever. 

 ---

He’d noticed the smell when he’d first stepped on board the ship. The mixed stench of human sweat and rotting fish, an odor that gets a little better at the main deck where the breeze filled with the smell of sea can take away some of the vile one that hurts his nose. 

It’s first now, bored to death as he leans against the railing trying to tame his queasy stomach that he really notices it. Loki can’t say it helps very much to how he’s feeling. 

He swallows the little that makes its way up his throat, though quickly regrets it as it only heightens the feeling and he leans over to rid himself off it. His throat hurts as he uses his sleeve to wipe away the excess. 

“We’ve all been there, buddy.” Clint pats his back and nods. “Heck, most o’ us are still there. Does get a lil’ better, but everyone’s emptyin’ their guts every now and then.”

Loki swallows―something he quickly regrets―and rubs his temples. “I have to admit, when I asked I thought the worst part would be the blood and gore, not… sea sickness.”

Clint nods. “Trust me, thought so, too.” He gives Loki a tiny smile. “But instead o’ this, what’cha say to a round? Got some mates up there, bettin’ some good money. And I’ll give you somethin’ to wash that taste down with.”

“A round of what?” 

A mischievous glint lights up in Clint’s eyes. “A round o’ whatever.” He winks. “Won’t give up an opportunity to beat Rogers, now would you?”

Loki nods. “He’s playing?” 

Clint nods. 

“Well, lead the way.”

They make their way to the helm (Loki asked you what the back with the wheel is called, the answer; the helm). Where he got introduced to some of the crew earlier in the day, is now a group―bigger than the five he was introduced to―sitting in a ring. In the middle he sees a pair of dice. 

“Ey, look who decided to join.” The first mate smirks in Loki’s direction and makes room for him to sit down next to him. “Time to place our bets, gentlemen.” Steve winks at Loki and looks onto the crowd around him as Loki sits down in the space made for him.

Everyone holler out a number between five and nine. Loki keeps his mouth shut, not sure what they’re playing. Steve picks up the dice and rolls them, creating a total of seven. A few men groan and move out of the circle to stand and watch. 

The remaining men holler out another set of numbers. Steve rolls the dice again. Five. Two of the men move out of the circle. There are five men left, each holler out a number. Steve rolls; eight. Two men remain in the circle. They give each other a wicked grin, and yell out a new number. 

Steve rolls the dice. As they spin around on the deck, the silence is deafening. The wind brushes past Loki, nipping at his cheeks. It makes his hair flap around him, annoyingly slap his face. He tucks it away, eyes still glued to the dice that come still on the ebony wood of the deck. 

Nine.

Both men groan and glare at Steve, who shrugs with a smirk. “Hand it over, boys.” His voice is cocky, too arrogant for someone surrounded by a gang of annoyed pirates. But, Steve himself is a pirate. And the men pay up, putting down different sets of things in front of Steve. 

The first mate picks some of the things, putting them in his pockets and then pushes the rest of the heap into the center. “Play me for it?” 

Loki is well aware of the little glance the male gives his way, as if the question is directly meant for him. He nods as the men come back to form a new circle. Everyone hollers out a number. 

Steve rolls the dice. Eight. Loki keeps his place, though he suppresses the smirk he wants―so he doesn’t have that good a poker face, this is rather a game of luck. 

They holler out a new number. Steve rolls. The dice spins on the deck. Stop. Six. Loki can feel the tug of his lips as he lets his shoulders fall down. 

They six men seated in the circle holler out a new number. Steve throws the dice; eight. Loki can feel the glares stare daggers in his back; already heated by the scorching sun the glares only add to the feeling of finally being somewhere else. 

They’re three men left now. All three yell different numbers. Steve rolls the dice. One lands quickly at a four. The other spins, and spins, and spins. It loses momentum and Loki can see the number it’s going to land on; one. Subtly, he flicks his wrist, giving the little extra it needs to fall on the two he needs. 

All eyes land on him as he lets the smirk color his face. Steve shakes his head, though if Loki doesn’t see hallucinations he believes he saw the hint of an amused smile before the man went back to his rather teasing look. 

“Who won?” 

Loki perks up at the sound of your voice. 

“Your toy,” replies Steve, though nothing layers his voice as Loki would have thought. 

As he sorts through the pile of garbage they played about, Loki can feel you roll your eyes behind him. He smiles and, finding something of value, he leaves the heap and stands up. He turns to you raising a brow in his direction. 

“Having fun?” you ask.

Loki smiles. “I will be in a moment.” A little ‘ooooh’ goes through the crowd of men as he takes your hand and tugs you with him. Newfound energy can do a lot. 

Also, he would rather have you in his arms where he can trade the rotting stench he’d forgotten a little with your smell. He wishes to trade the sound of grown men groaning at losing a game designed for them to lose, to the sound of your voice hoarsely and breathlessly whispering his name. 

So far, he’d made the right decision. 

[ladypyb]

For Bread or For Worse

Rating: G

Relationship/s: USUK

Tags: Omegaverse, Cooking, and a lot of misunderstandings.

Day 3 of HetaliaXmasEvent: Christmas’s Costume / Christmas’s miracle / Christmas’s festival

|ao3|

(Gaaaaah, this is the first time that I’ve completed a fic on these two dorks! I hope you enjoy this little fic tho.)

As an alpha, it was Alfred's job is to protect his mate from all dangers. Even if that certain danger is Arthur's cooking.

Alfred loved Arthur, truly. He'd travel to the moon and back in a boat if he could. But in all things good and holy does the alpha want to prove his love by eating one of Arthur's kitchen spawn. Although he did just that in the first year of their relationship back in college. Alfred has an endearing-but-not-so-fond memory of having to be bedridden for a week and missing a regional robotics competition because he ate an English scone that he was sure to be the embodiment of the word 'death'. He swore it was hard and looked like a rock but then it was too underbaked in the inside. But he can't refuse the omega's expectant face as he hid his injured hands so Alfred gobbled it all up and then proceeded to get sick. And Arthur, the more stubborn of the two, refused to cook for his 'ungrateful arse' when the alpha admitted the truth about the cause.

 That has become their arrangement. Alfred has been the one who cooks for both of them since then. He landed a job as a chef in a French restaurant owned by his older brother's mate, after all.

 So there he was, taking out the third batch of his infamous heaven-sent gingerbread cookies while the omega sulked behind the counter. It was the first week of December and Arthur had a look of longing to whip something up in his eyes. 

 Three years into their relationship and six months of them being mates, Alfred was successful from distracting the other from the kitchen with an overall of two and a half years. DIstracted enough that the omega ordered him to bake him some 'biscuits'. A pleasant change from his sickly display and sudden picky eating (Arthur wasn't picky before).

 The alpha placed the final batch inside and closed the oven with his foot. That earned him an eye-twitch from Arthur. "D'you wanna help me decorate these trees, sweetheart?"

 "No." Arthur frowned and looked away from him and his cookies. Was he still sore about that? Alfred took off a mitten to turn the fan on. If it cools down the cookies, maybe it'll cool down the omega's temper. Arthur only grunted in response.

 "You told me you wanted some gingerbread cookies. You were pouting, even. Want to take a bite?"

 "Humph."

 "C'mon, I worked real hard to suit them for your tastes, My Queen," Alfred took a cookie but immediately dropped it with a hiss, "Oh- Shit!" It was scalding hot! He forgot about that. Alfred began licking his wounded fingers.

 Arthur stood up. Alfred thought he was coming over to fret over him like he always would but to his befuddlement, the other headed in the opposite direction. 

 "Wehw ya goin'?" Arthur only responded to his mate with a curt "Outside".

 Yup. The alpha fetched a few icing pipes from the cupboard. Arthur was still sore about his comment years ago. He just hopes this wouldn't ruin their first Christmas together as mates.

 ________

 Arthur's attitude toward him on the following week was like Maine's climate in Winter. Cold enough to freeze his balls. The fear of his mate cutting them off with scissors was then established when he saw him cutting pieces off of one of Alfred's dessert magazines in the middle of the night while muttering 'bollocks', 'chop off', 'shitty arse', and 'Alfred'. Which the alpha put together later on as 'Alfred that shitty arse, I'll chop off his bollocks...!'

 He wasn't sure if that was what Arthur had said but it still was a well-founded fear. 

 ________

 Three weeks in December and three days before Christmas, Arthur's behavior didn't simmer down. It took a turn for worse. A worse worse that worried Alfred so much for his mate's condition.

 If last week's description of Arthur was cold and neglectful, this week's was skittish and overly paranoid as if the snow on their porch would swallow him whole.

 Arthur was always a weird type of person that bordered on the unnatural of the otherworld type. But hoarding a lot of bread in a cupboard for his tea, this was getting out of hand.

 However, the alpha was hungry and was too tired to cook or order pizza so he might as well take a slice for a late-night snack. Putting a bit of butter from a gallon under their fridge- Why was Arthur hoarding these?!- on his sandwich, he leans back and observes the bread-infested cupboard above.

 He nibbles on his sandwich. "Blech!"

 What in the- The bread's gone stale! Alfred jumps up to his feet and began taking the loaves of bread from the kitchen cupboard. 

 Scouring. Scouring. And scouring. And then finally, he reaches the thing he has been trying to prevent for two years and a half. Arthur's kitchen spawn

 ________

 Here they were, Alfred and Arthur in the living room with a baking dish between them. "Sweetheart," Alfred began, "So I found this in one of the cupboards. Care to share about it?"

 Perhaps it was the sharpness of his tone that his mate's scent had gone sour and a bit bitter, and in turn Alfred switched from stern alpha into a ball of wrecked nerves. His voice went soft as he crossed over to the omega. "No, no, no. Art, I thought you were okay about the arrangement. Uh, I mean I didn't mean to suggest that you weren't allowed to which I didn't 'cause you're definitely allowed to! It's just that... "

 Arthur's face remained stony but the moisture in his eyes and his scent gave him away. "I know, Alfred. You don't like my cooking." He said in gritted teeth, "My food will most likely make you sick. Besides the point, you're the chef between the two of us and you'd like to keep it that way."

 "What? No!" The alpha balked at the accusation, "Well, yeah, I did get sick multiple times back then but that didn't stop you from making your scones for me."

 "Scones? You called them rocks! Barely edible in context!" Arthur wiped his nose on his sleeve, drops of tears falling down his cheeks. "You dumped all those comments on our anniversary, too... "

 Ah, shit. He hated seeing Arthur cry. He loathed himself when he knew it was his fault, too. Alfred embraced the omega and rubbed his back in soothing circles. 

 "Shh, Shh. Arthur... I'm really, really sorry if it made you feel that way." Alfred held his mate until he calmed down into little sniffles. "I love you, I'm really sorry. I'll eat it if it makes you happy."

 He heard an intake of breath followed by the happiest pair of green eyes. His Arthur was too cute. How could he say no to that? Alfred nodded and Arthur took off to fetch utensils.

 A piece of the dessert was on a fork and was already a few centimeters near his face. He looked back up to Arthur's expectant face that he never knew he missed. Well, maybe a little.

 He took the fork from the other and studied it. Golden bread and a few raspberries and strawberries. "What did you say it was called?"

 "Bread and Butter Pudding, my father used to make it for me on Christmastime."

 Alfred made a noncommittal sound and braced himself. It went into his mouth.

 Huh... Woah!!!

 "MMM!!!"

 Alfred began pointing at the dish with so much vigor. What was this? What was this? Chewy and soft. Was that a taste of brandy?! Sweet, too! Creamy, so creamy and smooth. It was serenading his tongue.

 The alpha then moaned about the pudding until he realized had consumed about half of it. Delicious was an understatement.

 "Wow."

 "Wow, indeed. I spent the entirety of December perfecting the recipe, you know." Arthur never smiled any brighter than his charming smile right now this month and it made Alfred happy.

 "Hey, sweetheart?" Alfred's grin was like the sun, it hurt to look at.

 Arthur wasn't fazed at his mate's obvious elation and instead responded with pride. "Yes, love?"

 "I just realized your baking became our Christmas miracle."

 "..."

 "Y'know, 'cause it was sudden and good and a surprise?"

 Arthur didn't know how to respond to that comment.

 He banned the alpha to sleep on the couch for the night.

  "What possessed you to bake that pudding in the middle of the night, anyway?"

 "Hm? Oh, I wanted to serve that while breaking the news to my father and your family. It's a tradition in my family to serve it."

 "Wait... What news?"

 "Wha... You didn't realize?"

 "... Realize what?"

 "Mood swings, morning sickness, strange cravings... I told you last month. You are aware that I have a bun in the oven for already seven weeks now, right...?"

 "Wait, what?!"

[catfcrnandcz]

cierra ramirez / cis female — is that catalina fernandez ordering a vanilla sweet creme cold brew at mocha ? i heard they’re a twenty three year old cam girl. rumour has it she can be a little reckless, but also straightforward. i guess that comes with being an aries. they always make me think of black cats, short skirts & vainilla cupcake scented candles. i sure hope no one finds out her family thinks she’s working as a psychologist. well, looks like their order’s up !

it is i, ur fave, & this is cat. im quickly throwing her at yall before i start replying !!

originally from houston, texas, catalina was conveived by two very intoxicated, high as fuck college buds in a random summer party. esteban found out that emilia was pregnant almost by accident and he fought tooth and nail to make her have the child

she wanted nothing to do with it but he took care of her during the entire pregnancy and promised her that he would take the baby and he wouldn’t ask a single thing from her.

cat was born and emilia instantly disappeared from the picture as she said she would, leaving esteban to figure everything out on his own. he moved back with his parents so he could give him a hand while he worked, so cat grew up around her abuelos

her grandparents were rather strict so she would always sneak out to see friends, flings and everything in between

she likes to go either by cat or lina, if you call her by her full name she’ll have flashbacks of her dad yelling it to scold her whenever she did something wrong

she’s been living in chicago for the past five years when she applied for the chicago college of professional psychology

while she was in college, she dated a guy that tried to blackmail her saying he would release her nudes when she broke up with him ? like this piece of stale bread really tried to manipulate her to stay with him out of fear and she was all like ???? fuck you ?????

she posted the nudes on snapchat herself, quickly realizing she could get a few bucks doing so as there were dudes that always wanted more. it started as a hobby, she would snap a pic here and there when she was bored of studying or before a night out. then it was short clips that turned into camming, something she’s been doing for almost two years

she loves using her degree to get to know her usual tippers better, always more inclined to one on one sessions so she can connect with people better

random facts

always down for a drink or a night out, no matter who you are

hella bisexual. has a preference for girls tho (dont we all)

allergic to kiwi & pineapple. she won’t die from it but the tingly feeling is something she adores

loves red velvet cupcakes/cake more than life

has a black cat named onyx

could definitely date your dad

possible connections

im trying to get better at plotting so here u go ,,

someone she’s hooked up with at some point

gym buddy

party friend

exes

acquaintances

social media friends

ride or die

best friend

neighbor

good/bad influence

idk ?

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

random headcanons for a feathery asshole bc I feel like it

Hawks is, like, a pro... not a hero, but hacker. spent/spends basically all his precious free time learning how to program shit. he can and will use this to snoop around classified files and cases he has no business looking into

also v good at physics, especially when he puts it into practice, though his quirk helps a lot.

has problems to do this in games, however; tried to play and failed miserably at flappy bird. generally bad at platformers that have jump sensitivity

would love to get into gardening and baking, too, but those cannot be done, well, on the fly

as I put it once: watches food channels while munching on buttered bread

considering getting a camera, though

and will eat stale food if he has to* (*when he doesn’t feel like buying or ordering something)

his apartment looks about as bad as Spinner’s or Shiggy’s rooms looked tbf... he panic cleans everything that counts (read: living room, kitchen and bathroom) when managers and such are coming

uses the guest room for dumping stuff he doesn’t need atm since it never gets to see use from anyone who cares (like Rumi)

has claustrophobia, which he doesn’t have to worry about since he doesn’t usually have to cram himself into anything smaller than a normal sized corridor (and he wouldn’t really be able to, either, because aside from being on the short end, his wings are quite massive even when folded)

will look at stuff from like an arm’s length bc of far sight

his visor’s got a lense for this, actually- it looks bifocal, but since being able to see really far is actually useful on the job, only the bottom part does anything

has a really nasty tan on the head btw lmao; also getting freckles because of all the sun exposure

has shittons of free merch that gets chucked after him for being a half-time model

he gives away near everything to charity, but unfortunately, he can’t do shit with the tops as they are all tailored around his wings

so he’s got half a room full of that shit

rich people coming from poverty come in 2 flavors: no qualms dumping something after a microscopic stain OR will wear down shit until it’s rags, and that is who he is

so unless he goes outside he’ll look like half a hobo

could go full-out marie antoinette tho bc he also has a hard time giving up shoes that he likes but will likely never wear. that’s basically the other half of the room.

has a growing drinking problem which he’s both denying and aware of

basically he does his best not to overstep giggly drunk phase, because then he turns into an ugly crying drunk and has half a meltdown, which is a no-no both in public and private

it’s tricky, too, bc he can’t take alcohol for shit, two cans of some stronger beer and you’ve lost him for the rest of the night

will cry himself to sleep after a can, tho... i f he can, because

i n s o m n i a

when will he overdose on sleeping pills? who knows. when will he do a booboo and mix that shit with drinks while wasted??? who knows...

yeah, he loves beaches

would love to visit a beach some day (like, yeah, Fukuoka and all, but he only got to be on legit beaches on business thus far)

the plan is little more than to just stand against and feel the sea wind under his wings, really. he just wants to do it on a nice fucking sandy beach without anything else on his mind.

[brokentoasterrr]

this idea popped up into my head last night and i decided to write it in the fucking tumblr app, which is the dumbest thing i have done in my entire life. i had to rewrite it and put all the italics in and i just,, wanted death. i hope you like it tho!

it doesn’t have a title because i’m not good with such things, but here it is, a very short muggle/modern au where sirius is a little shit.

-

Sirius, 18:23: hello light of my life

Oh, this was not good, Remus thought as he read the text.

Sirius, 18:23: don’t be angry with me now because i love you very much and would not be able to live without you

This was definitely not good. Remus sighed heavily before he replied.

Remus, 18:24: What did you do?

Sirius, 18:25: i may or may not have set the couch on fire

Remus stared — no, glared down at his phone. He’s gone for twenty fucking minutes and this happens?

Remus, 18:26: You did what now

Sirius, 18:27: okay look, i was just going to light a scented candle because our living room smelled like sex and it was not cute, but it toppled over and just kinda,,, whooF yknow

Sirius, 18:27: not to worry tho my dear, i took care of it but now our sofa is very crisp and foamy

Sirius, 18:27: and our living room smells like fire and not sex

Remus, 18:28: I’m gone for 20 fucking minutes and you manage to set the sofa on fire

Remus, 18:28: I literally went to fucking Tesco to buy your lazy arse pasta and this is the thanks I get

Remus sighed heavily once again, put down the shopping basket on the ground and just walked out. If he stayed there any longer someone would’ve been punched in the face.

Sirius, 18:29: i’m so sorry baby

Sirius, 18:29: i did fix it tho

This was such a Sirius thing to do. Remus had managed to set fire to the stove a couple of times, and since the last time that happened, they had come to the agreement that Remus just Did Not Go Into The Kitchen unless he was making tea or cheese toasties. This, however, this was the most Sirius thing Remus had encountered since they moved in together. James had done more Sirius-y things since they officially became adults — like filling the bathtub with too many bubbles so he and Lily didn’t have a bathroom for two days, or proposing to a police officer to get out of a ticket.

Sirius had actually been rather tame lately, unless you count putting all the mugs out on their balcony and telling Remus that it was very ‘muggy’ out. But this was unbelievably so fucking Sirius that Remus didn’t even understand why he was angry.

Remus, 18:30: Congratulations arsehole. You’re not getting any pasta

Remus, 18:30: Eat stale bread and drink our expired milk if you’re still hungry

Sirius, 18:31: okay....rude

Remus, 18:32: You turned our sofa into a foamy crisp, forgive me for not being the nicest lad out there

Sirius, 18:35: okay first of all; “the nicest lad” is the grossest sentence you’ve said since prongs made you call me daddy for a day. second of all; “the nicest lad out there”???? you fold your fucking socks rem

Remus, 18:35: What are you going to do about it? Set my sock drawer on fire?

Remus sat down on a bench, waiting for a reply that didn’t seem to come.

Sirius, 18:47: .....

Oh no. Oh fucking no, he did not. Remus let out a frustrated yell and considered smashing his phone on the ground. A lady turned her head and stared at him, looking frightened. Remus gave an awkward smile and a small wave.

Remus, 18:48: Oh ffs I’m staying at Pete’s tonight, kindly fuck off and replace the socks you burned. And fold them. See you after work tomorrow.

Sirius, 18:49: i love you

Remus, 18:49: Suck my dick, Padfoot. See you tomorrow

[another-bryk-in-the-wall]

A BBQ To Remember (3/?)

Yes hello I has written. I hope you enjoy what I have thrown together this time, and if you have any ideas for the future, let me know in asks!

Warnings: no one, the character swears a lot tho

Don’t like, don’t read, don’t come crying into my askbox.

A few days later

Being the shut-in I was, going out to get groceries was something I did only once a week, or only when all I have left is stale bread and potatoes. On Friday afternoon, after finishing work in and around the house, I headed to the store to get some groceries. Cause starving wasn’t one of my hobbies.

I pulled into the parking lot with my chic 1956 BMW Isetta, I got out of it, stretched, and headed into the store. It was unusually quiet for a Friday afternoon. Normally, all the Karens and Meghans would be here with their screaming kids, buying stuff for the weekend while the kids throw shit around. But luckily, there were hardly any kids in Hope County. 

The aisle with the frozen food was completely empty. What did I need again? Peas, carrots, fish, sweet corn… When I noticed the ‘meat’ on my list, my mind went to Jacob Seed and how he ate that nearly raw steak. Oh boy, I wonder if that’s someone’s kink… But there was a kink for everyone and their grandma (hopefully their kink was not their grandma!), so I pushed that thought aside. On the way to the frozen vegetables, I grabbed a package of condoms, cause with my new BFF, Mr. Nipples, you never knew what would happen.

With the grace of a tarantula with three broken legs, I leaned down into the freezer to grab a bag of frozen vegetables. That’s when an Oh-So-Familiar voice greeted me, “Hello, my child.”

Fuck Mr. Nipples and fuck his timing.

I managed to put my head out of the freezer without injuring myself and smiled at Joseph, “Hello! What are you doing here?”, I asked him and mentally slapped myself for asking that question. What does one do in the store??? Fill out their taxes???

Joseph chuckled and pointed to the little cart next to him. It was filled rather well, with enough food for a family of five. “We are having a dinner tonight, my family and I.”

I nodded, that’s when I noticed that his graze moved to my own shopping cart. And to the condoms.

“I see…You have something planned as well?”, Joseph laughed, and I wanted to throw the bag of peas into his face. Without really thinking of what I was saying, I agreed with his statement, “Yeah, I don’t wanna end up heavy in the gut. Need some more time for myself.”

“…That’s not what I meant, child. I was referring to the chicken breasts. Nobody eats that much alone.”

…

Normally, I would swear so much, the wall would turn red. But in this moment, I was standing in front of a religious nutcase, so I kept my mouth shut and nodded.

“But it is good to see that you care that much about your body and your choices. But never forget, children are a blessing. And you, my dear, you would make a good mother.” And with a nod, Joseph grabbed his cart and left me standing there. I would make a good mother? What the fuck?

I grabbed the rest on the list, not crossing Joseph’s path again. In no time, I was back at home, munching a bag of chips while repeating in my head what he had said. Was that some kind of weird flirting? Some kind of ‘I know you have a breeding kink so I will play right into it’ power move? Fuck Joseph and everything he stands for and loves, but also…fuck me Joseph?

From what I have heard, John carves the sins of people into their skin. In my case, lust would be the biggest sin, far ahead of all the others. Far away from greed or envy. All I wanted was a good dick and a good pussy from time to time, was that so hard? Maybe I should try to get on it with the stoner lady. Back in college, I had a hook-up with a stoner chick and it was the best sex I ever had. Sadly, I ate some of the drug-filled food later on and had to get my stomach pumped, but that was still the best night ever.

Life is weird, and I have made the right choices to make it even weirder than planned. I was sure, my guardian angel was sitting somewhere in the clouds and drinking itself into a coma because I was such a moron. But hey, life is a gift that keeps on giving, and I am taking everything I can. Even if it means getting on it with a Jesus-wannabe.

Before I even realized it, the day had ended and the night broke into the County. The sweet sound of animals fucking outside was audible, along with foxes ripping rabbits apart. Ah, the sweet sound of nature.

That’s when I got a message on my phone. I preferred getting texts instead of talking, because talking on a phone takes up more brain cells than I could ever have. The number was not saved in my contacts, but I opened the message anyways:

‘Hello. This is Joseph Seed. Do you want to join us for dinner in the Compound tonight? xxx”

Two questions: How did he get my number? Did the x mean kisses or was he planning a special dinner Party?

Without thinking much about it, replied quickly to what Joseph had written:

‘Always! See you in a bit!’

I jumped off the sofa, spilling chips all over me. Fuck it, I could clean it up later on. I rushed into my bedrooms, put on clothes which screamed the message ‘I was trying to have a cozy evening but you came along and ruined it with your charm’. No, before you ask, I was not going over there in my pyjamas.

I threw a little make up on before getting back into my lovely car, driving to the Compound. And I had no idea what would happen next. '

[tumblunni]

And today's final haul!

I felt like it'd be sort of a waste if i didnt take something back with me after this whole traumatic experirnce, so i just picked up a big pile of random books from the library on the way back.

Also by the time i got back it was Clearance Hour at the local supermarket so i managed to get some awesome lil cheap things with the money Mystery Person W leant me! (And thanks again Mystery Person L who also donated!) There was bread for the ludicrously low price of 0.19, cos its kinda hard and almost stale. But i mean if i eat it fast its okay! Tomorrow's breakfast can be Egg Burger aka There Is No Burger Only Egg aka Egg On Toast But It Don't Fit In The Toaster. And then also there was discount blue food colouring!! Turning your food blue makes any meal fun!! I might take some pics later of my cookery abominations XD

And then we just have the Soda Pop Of Gratitude that helped me take my medication while i was stuck miles away from home. Still went until 3pm without it so i dunno if ive messed up my brain cycle now, but im sure itll get back to normal once i start taking it steady at the same time each day again. Anyway thats probably why i was Real Sad and made Dumb Decisions today. And also why i had that entire day long nosebleed the other day. Don't go cold turkey on your meds, kids! If you wanna stop taking them, please see your doctor and they can wean you off them on lower doses to help avoid negative side effects like this.

And then just the Nice Foodins And Yums. Thank you so much to the people who donated money, aaaa im so glad to have a good nosh! Haha its totally late tho, didnt eat anything all day until friggin 7pm. Im either gonna be hyperactive all night now or im gonna crash out and wake up at a really weird time cos all my Curry Energy finally kicked in. Ehh!