#which. wesley did start to suck so goddamn bad

[aahsoka]

i dont like spike or angel hate bc its always like ‘this one did something worse than the other’ like they were both serial killers . they both did questionable shit with and without souls. i dont uhhhhh care. im operating on fantasy supernatural show rules both of these guys would suck objectively irl but theyre not real. why are u watching the show about fucked up people who save the world and date fucked up guys (gender neutral) and complaining about the fucked up guys they date. stop putting ur fave on a pedestal by calling the other one a creep or whatever they are the Same. also they are kissing each other on the mouth.

[betanyagito]

3 hours left of this decade here and I promised I’d write a sappy post so [ABBA voice] let’s go gays

Oh man. Oh boy. Was this a time. An entire 10 years spent on the internet. I’ve met people, got into new things, forgot old dreams and made new ones. How old was I when I first started here? 12? 13? It doesn’t feel real honestly. So much has happened that I still think about to this day, and as embarrassed as I am of my roots, I wouldn’t be who I am without them, and I likely wouldn’t have met the people I did if it weren’t for the early day join.mes and art streams from Deviantart and Minecraft askblogs on tumblr dot kom

I am thankful I got to know Minecraft, I got to know Hetalia, I got to know Homestuck. I am thankful these things allowed me to meet people who I couldn’t possibly imagine my life without right now. And that’s honestly the part I want to focus on. My friends

Old friends who I don’t talk to anymore, old friends who I don’t even know if are still around, old friends who still message me again and again sometime (honestly knowing that I’m still on their minds after all these years is the single most heartwarming thing ever), friends who I don’t talk with as frequently but still keep in my mind and get happy whenever we do end up meeting, and friends who are still here every day and support me endlessly.

If I were to talk about each and every one of them I would be sitting here all throughout January so I’ll try to talk about everyone in groups because I do want to take a moment to appreciate everyone. Everyone I’ve met shaped me into the person I am today, and while I am not perfect, I am happy. I am happy that I have the friends I do now

I remember the first big group of friends I’ve had when I first felt like I belonged. Kat, Wesley, Meni, Britain - those Whirled Days. I remember spending hours doing sprite edits and staying up late into the night to make sure I stayed caught up with rp and was present for the trials and murders lmao. I know it all ended on a sour note, but I will always treasure the moments we had together, and I’m so glad that after over six years I am still in touch with some of you. You were my first true out of the country friends, and you all helped me open my horizons and realize that the world is much much bigger than I had thought, and I can find friends anywhere who will love me

DR had stayed with me ever since, and I got to meet Mina, Chinch, Erika and Damien. Oh my god you guys. All my admiration for you four for being able to handle the edgefest that my writing and I was. I can’t believe we’ve lived through the peak days of DR tumblr rp. What a fucking Time that was. I would’ve never discovered my love for writing and betas without you all. You stuck with me through my worst years and always supported my dumb ideas. I remember the skypechats, the craigslist edits, the quiche, the zombie apocalypse, the adoption. I know I said I don’t want to address anyone one-on-one but Mina. Mina. If there’s anyone then you deserve a one-on-one. It’s been six (?) years. We’ve known each other for six (?!) years and we’ve seen each other go through so much. I know I tend to be really bad at communication and often fall short at replies but there’s not a day when I’m not thankful that I’ve met you and I still have you in my life. Your influence on me has been nothing but positive, you’ve taught me so much, how to love life, love my creations, how to be excited about anything. If I was half a good influence on you, I would already call that a success. I hope we will remain friends for a long time. At this point, I couldn’t imagine my life without having you in it. I just love you so much I almost teared up writing this ngl

And this one goes out to those Nanbaka SLUTS who also turned me into a slut who can never step foot into another church ever again. I can’t even recall how exactly I ended up in the discord group, but I know that you all were another milestone for me. Nick, Mew, Kristi, without you guys I would’ve never opened up towards people. I was scared back into my bubble where I just didn’t want to interact with fandoms ever again, but I you guys were one of the most accepting group of people I’ve ever met and probably ever will meet. You welcomed me with warmth and excitement and I still keep so many screenshots of the old discord chat that I read back whenever I need a good hearted laugh. Even now when our interests had changed, I’m so happy that we can still find a common note and have fun with each other. I wish nothing but the best for all of you

This brings us to the current era. All these muppet lovers......all these muppet lovers and I find so many friends.....Stella, Michael, Maple, Daco, Kris, Clover, Katie, Nette, Lili, Dani it was all Your Fault that this obsession started. I had such a fun time with all of you that now my brain cannot stop producing serotonin whenever I see a goddamn potato man. But even besides just having a common interest, you are all such wonderful people. You all helped me out of a rut and helped me shape myself, to be confident in my own opinions, to be able to stand up for myself and to have fun without worrying about what other people think. I am so grateful for every conversation we’ve had, every joke we shared, every idea we came up with together. I had no idea that a gag anime could ever get me such amazing friends, but it happened! And even if I don’t talk with some of you as often anymore, or at all, I will never forget any of you

Standing on more stable feet I was able to reach out to other parts of the fandom and start my own big project in the form of an askblog, and even if it’s stagnant now, it was one of the best decisions of my life, as I got to meet the most wonderful group of people. Nat, Athro, Buns, Turo, Jasp, JM, Lulu, Tris, Holly, Eden, Dairy, Ruri, Timey, Zako, Vivi, Ruah - you’re all just amazing. You accepted me into your group and I honestly feel like we’ve grown into a family. I’ve grown both as an artist and as a person thanks to you all, and I’ve never had such a tight knit group of friends before who’ve supported each other quite like you do. I feel loved and I know my voice is heard whenever I speak. I know that even on my worst days, you all will  be here. I know that you will hear even my most outlandish ideas, you will listen to me ramble about media you’ve never heard of and I more than gladly do the same for all of you too. I’ve never been more confident in my content and especially in my OCs. We’ve created something incredible together, and I am just so incredibly proud that I can say that I belong to MVA, that I can say that “hey thats my friend!!” whenever any of you come up, and I am so happy that I could meet all of you. I truly feel like I’ve become a much better person since meeting all of you. I sincerely hope from the bottom of my heart that we’ll be able to spend many more years together, and watch each other succeed in many more things

Despite what I intended this turned into a pretty lengthy post nevertheless whOOPS. I’m sorry if I left in any typos or anything of the sort. The bottom line of everything is- I’ve had some terrible times this decade. Really, awful times when I thought that theres no way, no way I would be able to continue on. But all these strangers online, who I’ve never even seen in person, you all were and are always there to extend a hand and help me back on my feet. There are many ways in which this decade sucked, there were many terrible news and terrible times, but, it was all worth it. If not for anything else, then for the fact that I’ve got to meet so many amazing and talented people. Thank you all for loving me and calling me a friend. I hope the next decade will treat all of us, but especially you well. You all deserve nothing but the best in your lives and I love all of you so so much

[stories-you-wont-hear]

– precedence. pt 1

hey everybody! it’s ya girl! back at it again! with a new story! in lieu of the final part of due process! i swear it is slowly coming together, but i want to be able to do justice to the characters in the story and give them an ending that’s neither cotton candy and butterflies nor... slushy snow and subway rats (does my idea of the bad end of things give away where i’m from lol).

 aNyWaY here is part one to what will mostly likely be a mini series/prequel to due process in which we find out why y/n is the way she is and how billy came into her life. 

bear in mind that this is the same reader from due process, but i don’t think you have to read due process to understand things here, however certain characters will cross over. i hope you all enjoy this, and please give me love! it is so difficult to find motivation to write things when no one pays any attention. i know i write for myself, and for the fun of it, but it can be tough TT enjoy! xoxo mira

   ___________________________________________________________

There was a special place in hell for the person who decided Latin would be so heavily incorporated into the American legal system. Was English not enough? You secretly figured the people who set up this whole shebang got into a pissing contest with each other and resorted to using fancy Latin phrases to try and one up each other, and as a result, you were sitting at your desk and poring over legal Latin phrases.

You were not about to be the next associate fired for fudging up Latin in a brief that ended up being presented in court by a senior partner, who got an earful from the judge and ended up losing the hearing on a matter of technical wording. That day had been about two weeks ago and since then, every single associate at your firm, Wesley King Randall, had been brushing up on terminology. 

Every free moment was spent scanning through reference books and a study guide someone had made, and all that was saying a lot since associates at any big law firm barely had time to breathe. From the corner of your eye, you saw one of the name partners making their way towards the area where the associates were situated and you quickly slipped the papers you had been studying from into your bag and turned to the papers on research about property law. Apparently not everyone had sensed the shift in the air as several other associates still had out their Latin books. 

“Didn’t you bumbling toddlers learn what mens rea means in whatever law school your daddies bought your way into?” the woman said as she walked through the playpen of associates, causing a wave of frazzled yuppies to quickly shut their books and turn towards the woman who would fire each and every one of them without a moment’s hesitation. 

“A guilty mind,” one particular young associate said. Big mistake. 

“Is that what your copy of Legalese for Dummies says?” she replied, eyes piercing through the man who had had the audacity to reply to her. The poor kid was now probably kicking himself for not interning at Landman and Zack. You sucked in your breath, unsure what his fate would be until another man walked towards the bullpen area.

 “Eva, you came to choose an associate, not to choose a lamb to slaughter,” Richard Wesley said, his teeth sparkling as he came in, shaking his head as if to admonish the woman with whom he shared the name of the firm. 

“It’s not my fault they’re all sheep,” she replied back bitterly, her mood seeming to worsen with the addition of her colleague.

 “How about Monty?” Richard suggested, gesturing towards William Montgomery Jr., who immediately stood up when his name was called. “I’d prefer someone who won’t call me a frigid bitch behind me back, Dick,” Eva deflected. Monty's face immediately reddened as Eva reiterated the words he had used to describe her last week at an associate's happy hour outing.

"The walls have ears, Mr. Montgomery," Eva cautioned, her eyes scanning the faces of the associates, who were all probably trying to hide either their fear or their contempt of the female third of the law firm.

Eva King was many things. She was poised, she was ruthless, and she did not give a shit what people thought of her. And now, Eva King was looking directly at you. "You," she said, and you immediately rose up, hand reaching for your bag without a word as she beckoned for you. Eva turned to leave without so much as another word, but you caught the look Richard Wesley was giving the rest of the associates, namely the male associates in front of him.

It was a look that was meant to pacify them. It wasn't that they weren’t worthy, Eva chose you because you were a woman. At least, that's what those man-babies would tell themselves as they nursed top shelf liquor tonight after work. It was the same reason why Richard Wesley doubted your ability even though you had just wrangled a property case for him just last month.

"I don't have time to coddle you," Eva said as you followed her through the firm, heading for the elevator. "I don't need you to," you replied, stepping into the enclosed space behind her. "That's what I like to hear," she said, granting you a look that was probably as close to warm as she could get.

"You were the one who figured out that clever little loophole in the Grant case will, weren't you?" she asked after a moment of silence. You attempted to pull back at the grin that wanted to pop up on your face, it was the very case Richard Wesley had taken as a favor for an old family friend, making sure that man would get every pretty penny from his grandmother's will. It was also the case that some second year associate had gotten the credit for just because he was being groomed for Wesley's good old boy club. Yet, Eva King knew what you had done. You had barely had a conversation since you started here three years ago, but she knew about you.

"Yes," you replied, hoping your faux indifferent tone was masking the fact that you were internally jumping for joy. "Don't be humble," Eva insisted, "Every goddamn thing you do here, you write your name in big bold letters on. You don't do that and some ass with a trust fund is going to write his own name on it." You attempted to take in her words as the elevator dinged, marking your arrival to the third and most prestigious floor of the firm.

The desk at reception was marked with the names of the partners in silver lettering and the woman behind it stood up as the both of you stepped off the elevator. "Mr. Russo from Anvil is already waiting in your office, Ms. King," the receptionist called as Eva brushed past her. "Of course he is," Eva muttered under her breath, heading towards her office.

"Stay sharp," was all that Eva supplied before she stepped into her office to find the man you presumed to be Mr. Russo going through the books she had arranged on the bookshelf behind her couch. You could've sworn that her office was probably just as big as your apartment, her desk facing away from the lounge area each name partner had in their office. Eva's was tastefully done, and was as chic as she was. "I think this Camus guy is pretty bleak, don't ya think?" were his first words as he turned towards the two of you, holding up a copy of The Stranger. "Sorry, I'll have Forrest Gump playing for you the next time you visit, Mr. Russo," Eva responded.

The man, who you couldn't help but ogle, was dressed impeccably in a suit you had worked long enough at this firm to know was worth your entire month's paycheck. "Billy Russo," he said, putting the book back on the shelf to step towards you, his movements precise as he offered his hand to you. You shook it, hoping you weren't still ogling him. "Y/N Y/L/N," you supplied.

"Have a seat, Mr. Russo, Y/N," Eva chimed, waiting until the both of you sat before she took a seat a few feet from you on the couch. "What's going on, Russo?" she asked almost immediately. Eva certainly did not beat around the bush, even with clients. "How I love your hospitality," Billy commented with a chuckle. "Can I get you anything?" Eva said exasperatedly.

"Just some fine legal counsel," Billy quipped back as you looked between the two of them. You had always seen Eva as a powerhouse, not taking shit from anyone, but this kind of exchange was almost like banter. You were seeing a new side of her.

"Well, it's a good thing you came to a law firm, isn't it?" Eva shot back, but this time with the tiniest of smiles. "I hear you lot are pretty decent, any truth to that?" he said, this time directing his playful quip at you. "That suit you're wearing isn't cheap, and neither are we," you responded.

"I like her," Billy said, turning to face Eva, who was nodding at you with a look of approval. "So do I," she began, avoiding eye contact with you as she said so, "And she's right. So we can keep making small talk for as long as you want, Billy." Billy smirked, and you knew he had the pockets to keep you and Eva here all day if he wanted. You certainly didn't mind the view.

"What was that joke?" Billy began, "What's the difference between a good lawyer and a bad lawyer? A bad lawyer can drag a case out for a year and a good lawyer..." "A good lawyer can make it last even longer," you offered. "Bingo!" Billy grinned. Eva's expression turned to one of weariness, and you cleared your throat, not wanting her to regret her choice.

"Sorry, Eva," Billy sighed, "I just can't help myself around beautiful women." His grin was wide as he leaned back against the arm chair he had chosen to sit in, and suddenly his face clicked. You had seen him in the papers and perhaps once or twice in the office on the rare occasion you had to visit the third floor. He was the CEO of some private military firm and had deep enough pockets to keep Wesley King Randall on as legal counsel. "Try," Eva replied dryly.

Billy's entire demeanor changed within seconds, sitting up and dropping the grin in exchange for an intense look as he pointed towards the file on the coffee table. "This is a contract that I made with a domestic company to provide accommodations to my men out in Iraq. They're set to go weeks from now, and then this son of-" Eva cleared her throat, raising her brow at him as she leafed through the papers. "Sorry," Billy mumbled, before shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.

"Now they're telling me they can't provide me the service, and I've got men going out there with no place to go," he continued. "They called you and told you that?" Eva asked, her eyes scanning the pages in front of her. "Yeah, the guy didn't even have the balls to tell it to my face. Let me tell you what I would've done if he had had the gall to walk into my office and tell me that." "Please," Eva cut in again, "If it's not legal, don't tell me." Billy sighed, shrugging his shoulders a bit. He looked tense, his concern for the people who worked for him apparent.

"Fair enough," he sighed. "I just don't want my men out in the cold." You nodded sympathetically, eyes turning to Eva who had set the contract back down on the table. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that the wife of this company's CEO was the one you were laying it on at the gala last weekend? she asked coolly. Billy froze, the epiphany he was having drawing a a slow nod as Eva spoke. "I didn't know that was her!" he cried, "And I can't help it if my natural state of being is pure charm." Eva scoffed, and even you couldn't help but chuckle in reply to that comment.

"What am I supposed to do now? Wait until my men are out there without so much as a roof over their heads?" he said, turning back into serious Billy.

"It's an anticipatory breach," you spoke up, looking up at Billy. Eva nodded in agreement, her eyes on you as you spoke. "You don't have to wait to take legal action until they actually breach the contract. He already told you that they can't honor their part of the agreement. That in turn will affect your ability to complete the job your company was hired for. They could be held liable not just for what you paid them, but for the entire contract."

Billy turned to look back at Eva, who sat up straight, her expression unable to hide the fact that she was pleased with you. "That's right," she agreed, "We can hold them as liable before they actually breach. Do you have proof that he called and stated that on the phone?" Billy nodded, explaining that he'd need to get the recording of the call from the secretary who kept those sort of logs.

"Great," Eva said, standing up to follow Billy's movements as you did the same. "Get that to me and I'll have his head on a platter for you," she said as she began to walk him out. "Thank you, Eva," Billy said, tipping his head in thanks. "And thank you, Y/N," he said with one of those smiles. "It's my job, Mr. Russo," you replied. With that, he was off and you wondered if Eva wanted you in her office as she had taken a seat at her desk.

"Should I-" you began until she gestured for you to take a seat across from her. "You did good," she praised, and for a moment, you wondered if you were in a dream. Eva King, the woman who all the associates called an ice queen, was praising you while you sat in her office. "But you have to be the best," she continued, her eyes set on you. You tried to maintain eye contact, but her gaze was too intense and your eyes dropped to your lap. "I'm serious, Y/N, you have potential," she said, a bit gentler this time. You nodded, thanking her for the opportunity as you sensed it was time for you to return to your regular old cubicle three floors down. "And," Eva called as you got to the door, "Next time don't make it so obvious that you're ogling him."

  ___________________________________________________________

and boom! so that was mainly to introduce the story and the characters and of course, billy. let me know what you think and i hope to have the next part of this as well as the last part to due process out soon. much love, mira

[afro-elf]

it’s all ogre now, i think @farrahda5hy is done torturing me

it’s Over

Author’s Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN, BITCH🎃

The door opens inside the room, getting the attention of the three captives inside. Frederick and Samuel enter. Samuel looks to the other and asks, “What are they doing here?” pointing at your friends.

Frederick shrugs. “They came looking for their friend, and I thought they’d make good additions to the Ritual,” he says.

“We can’t just do that, Frederick!”

“I mean, it’s a bit late, now.”

Samuel sighs. “Fine, but, we’re gonna have to be stricter now about how we do this, since Thomas thought he could slip past us.”

Your friends shudder and whimper as they’re lifted up, their bonds resituated so that their hands are tied in front of their bodies. Tom is silent as Frederick lifts him from his spot. Samuel leads the line outside, collecting Wesley and you, hands tied behind your back, on the way. The procession goes; Samuel holding Laura captive, Wesley with you, Frederick with Tom, and Rupert with Jordan. You all walk into the forested area behind Samuel’s house, down a cobbled path for several minutes. The full moonlight peaking through the trees seems to signal your oncoming doom. You shiver with fear. You have faith in Tom (and a little in Wesley, maybe) that you’ll all get out of this somehow, but the odds feel so stacked against you.

Finally, you see a clearing in the forest up ahead, over which the full moon is nearing the zenith. Panic runs through your blood even more furiously now; what the hell are you to do?

A flash later, you hear Tom shout, “Now!” from behind you. You see Samuel reel in front of you, a pained hiss passing through his fangs. You see Laura with the bracelet, your bracelet, on her wrist, and twisting her tied arms so that it’s pressed against Samuel’s neck. His stance weakens to the forest floor the longer her wrist is pressed to his neck.

The next thing you know, you’re being pushed off the path. You tumble to the ground, confused. As you look up from your spot on the ground, you see Rupert and Wesley fighting. Clearly Rupert has the upper hand, but Wesley is doing his best. You see more clearly the smoke rising from Samuel’s body as Laura lifts herself from him. You pick yourself up now, and it takes you a moment to realize that your hands are no longer tied. You deduce that Wesley must have discreetly loosened your bonds while you were walking down the forest path. Some hope and relief finally enter your body.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Rupert!” Wesley shouts as he swipes his claws at him.

Rupert cackles, his fangs bared. “You seem to forget that I am the sire of this little sect of ours!” he shouts. “What I say goes. And right now Wesley, I say that if you don’t stop this right now, you’re gonna die, too.”

Wesley, enraged, swipes again at Rupert. You see Laura try to reach for him now, her hands still tied (bless her), but Frederick is swift and throws her to the side. Now Wesley is fighting off two of his bandmates.

While they’re all distracted, you run up to Tom, and immediately reach to loosen his bonds. He shoots you a quick, “Thanks, love!” before rushing to help Wesley fight.

You turn to find Jordan frozen in their spot, unsure of what to do. You run to them, and loose them from their bonds.

“Get a stake or something!” you tell them. “Lots of trees here, lots of wood! Let’s go!” They simply nod, and you turn to find Laura struggling to find an opening in the kerfuffle. You run to her now, and help her loose, despite how well she was managing with her hands literally tied. “Listen, give me the bracelet,” you tell her. Before she can do anything though, you’re tackled away.

“Not so fast, sacrifice!” Frederick says over you with a hiss. “We are doing this Ritual and there’s nothing that can be done to stop us!”

Just as quickly as he tackled you is he kicked off of you. Wesley now stands heroically over you. “I seem to have more in me than I thought,” he says. He swipes down at Frederick, shedding some blood from him. You see Jordan running up now, stake in hand, and you slide out of their way, shouting a series of frantic “Stake him!"s at them. They lunge down and plunge down the stake right into Frederick’s chest. He hisses in pain, and smoke rises from the fatal wound.

"HolyfuckIjustdidthatohmygod,” Jordan breathes out. Quickly, they faint. Wesley catches them. He looks at you with a silent question.

“I think they’ll be alright,” you say. “To be fair, killing a vampire is a lot to have to take in.”

Suddenly, a clawed hand swipes at his neck from behind, and he lets out a pained hiss and drops Jordan. You screech.

“Wesley, you goddamn fool!” Rupert shouts.

Suddenly you’re dragged up, and you screech again. Rupert has your arms locked behind you in his strong vampiric grip, and he pulls you closer to the clearing. You struggle against him, but you are no match.

“It appears I’m the only one feeding tonight,” Rupert calls menacingly. “Too bad for you, Thomas, and for you, Wesley! As soon as I drain your precious human of her blood, I will squash you like a common centipede.” You look through teary eyes and see Tom’s form running up to you. You hyperventilate and pray silently for any last bit of hope that can help you. “I’ll have to find new bandmates, now, of course. So tragic, since you guys were truly amazing instrumentalists.” You whimper.

“I don’t think so, Rupert,” you hear Tom say. Next thing you know, you’re falling backward with Rupert, but his hands are off you in the next second. You roll away, and look to see that Tom is pressing something into Rupert’s neck. Rupert struggles to pull Tom off of him, but he visibly weakens with each passing second. Tom looks equally as pained, his face growing a deeper purple as he presses harder into Rupert. You don’t know how long you sit there, watching this spectacle, until Rupert no longer moves, and his eyes gloss over with one final breath.

Tom yanks his hand away, sucking air through his teeth. His breathing is labored. You see what he held down onto Rupert fall to the ground with a glint. Your bracelet! You look to Tom.

“The bracelet… was pure silver…” he says through strained breaths. He looks down to his burned up palm, and groans. You gasp and crawl to him.

“Tom, your hand!” you say, but he holds up his other hand.

“I’ll be fine,” he whispers, and pulls you into a tight embrace. “What’s important now is that you are, too. My love.”

Tears fall down your face and onto Tom’s chest, as you sit there for what feels like forever. You didn’t see clouds in the sky at all, but it starts to rain. You look up, and sure enough, the moonlight is eclipsed by dark clouds. Tom, in a sweet gesture, picks up your braclet off the ground and puts it back on your wrist, despite the clear pain it causes him. He tenderly kisses you, and whispers, “I’m sorry I put you through all of this, my love.”

“You protected me,” you say, matter-of-factly.

He rubs his forehead against yours. “And I’ll keep doing that, forever. If you wish for me to, that is.”

You simply lean up and kiss him with a smile.

Épilogue coming soon

EPILOGUE: Wesley died that night. As you walked up to collect your friends, he lied on the ground, short of breath. You tried convincing him that there’d be hope for him, but, he’s not that dumb, he told you. You and Tom thanked him for his help in the end, and sadly watched as he, too, perished. You made it back to your home, and cleaned yourselves up the best you could, and laid the still-fainted Jordan on your couch. You debated whether or not to convince your friends that everything that happened was a figment of their drunk imaginations when they woke up. You really wanted to, but Tom figured that they could be trusted with this secret. They could.

You had to do a lot of readjusting, after that. Since Tom didn’t feed on Halloween, he started feeling hunger pangs for the first time in several years. Luckily, you had friends in nursing who were willing to be discreet, and Tom had a lot of cash, so you snuck him some “expired” blood packets to help tide him over. “I might have to do the Ritual with these babies,” he joked.

It took a lot of time to process everything that really happened. Watching four people die after learning the truth of their situation? Realistically, no therapist would be able to help you process that one. No human therapist, at least. Tom was convinced that there had to be at least one vampire out there in emotional counseling. You still haven’t found one yet.

Dealing with all of the possessions that his bandmates left behind was a whole nother issue. Forging the wills of people that were alive way longer than any human should be? Woof. You tried convincing Tom to just burn their places down. “But, I kinda just want all of those instruments,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

After he did get a hold of all of those instruments, he started his own one-man industrial project. It was gonna take a while for him to get new bandmates. Bloodbathory was over anyways.

The next Halloween, despite his jokes, he did bring some blood packets to feed on. Luckily the Ritual only required blood, and not a living sacrifice.

“Listen, darling,” he said to you, as the waxing moon reached overhead. “I’ve thought and panicked a lot about what I’m about to ask you.”

“You know that after everything we’ve been through, you can tell me anything, right?” you said.

“I know, but–” he huffed. “It’s a very serious thing.”

You look up at him, your heart racing. “Yeah?”

He took a deep breath. “We know that I’m basically immortal. And that you’re not.”

You looked away sheepishly. “Yeah…”

“But, we could change that, if you wanted.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. “Wow, that is– that is a lot to ask.”

“I know, it took me a lot to even bring it up.”

“I just– I don’t know. What gave you the idea?”

“A lot of it came from this very real fear of losing you, like I almost did last year. 70 years to you is nothing to me at this point. I know I’m still a young vampire, but–” He huffs. “I know I want to hold on to you for as long as I can. I know that’s selfish of me, but…” He trails off.

“I mean, yeah, it is.”

“You don’t have to, though. I’ll just learn to seize the moments that I have with you now.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t think about it at least. Because I will. No guarantees of a yess, but I will.”

Tom smiles at you and pulls you into an embrace. “I love you, Kendra.”

“Just a quick question– So you’re not gonna ask me to marry you then?”

Tom giggles. “We’ll have some time to think that over, too.”

“Alright, drink your blood.”

[backseat-negan]

|Long-Awaited Savior: Part Two|

This is my first ever fic, so any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!

Check out Part One or the Masterlist

Characters: Negan (JDM) x female reader

Words: 1,956

Heads up: swearing, little bit of smut (next part will be full of it)

Setup: Negan & the Saviors overrun your community and dole out some long overdue justice, changing your life in the process.

Part Two: Dawn of Desire

It had been several months since the Saviors had rescued you. From the bits of conversation you caught from the ones returning from supply runs, it sounded like they had purged your old settlement of the filth that once overran it. You hoped and prayed, for the sake of the other women there, that everyone was finally free and safe - at least as safe as they could be in these brutal after-times.

I owe him my life.

You couldn’t help but remind yourself of that fact at least a dozen times every day. You often saw him around the compound, typically with Simon at his side, but he never sought you out or engaged you in a forced conversation. Yet you knew the conversation had to happen at some point. Enough time had passed… you felt ready for it, but were at a loss for how to bring it up in a way that would feel even remotely natural.

He had given you enough points for two weeks so you could have time to cope with everything. Not that he actually told you about it… you made the discovery when you tried to sign up for a job on your first day at the compound and were firmly told you were to take two weeks off. When you frantically inquired about points, it was clearly stated that it was taken care of.

It had to be him.

After two weeks you had eased into a position doing grounds cleanup and maintenance. The regimented feel of accomplishing specific tasks on set days gave you the feeling of some semblance of control over your life. You appreciated the repetition and redundancy - it was predictable. It was a welcome change from the shitstorm of a life you had before The Sanctuary.

Before him.

Sundays were generally quiet around the compound, though not due to any sort of religious observance like before the sickness started. You enjoyed it - the absence of common, everyday noise was calming. Sundays were also your lightest day of work. Grabbing a rake and broom from the supply shed, you began the task of ridding one of the common areas of sticks, leaves, and the occasional piece of trash. Humming to yourself, it felt as if it were only you and the birds existing in the world at that moment. Listening to them chirp and whistle brought a quiet smile to your face as you continued working.

The whistling.

You nearly dropped the rake as you realized it wasn’t just the birds you were hearing anymore. Boots thudded heavily around the corner of a nearby building and Negan appeared, twirling his beloved bat Lucille as he whistled a bright tune. When your eyes connected, he gave the slightest nod to acknowledge your presence and you hastily dropped to one knee and stared intently at the ground. The whistling stopped suddenly, and you felt yourself trembling uncontrollably as the boots slowly turned and headed your way. They came to a halt just inches away from you while the shadow of Lucille danced across the top of your shoe.

“Stand up.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing anymore as you remained frozen in a kneeling position. It wasn’t the first time you had knelt - no, you had done it dozens upon dozens of times, but always within a crowd of people. It had never been just you and him. You heard him sigh heavily.

“I said stand the fuck up.”

After a moment of panicked silence, you hesitantly pushed your knee off the ground and straightened yourself cautiously, still trembling with your eyes fixated on the dirt at your feet.

Maybe if I just stand here…

You felt a leather-clad hand reach softly under your chin and tip it upwards until your eyes were locked on his.

Well, shit.

You had forgotten how enchanting his eyes were… tawny, and full of fire. You were surprisingly able to hold his gaze even though your stomach now felt as if it had made its way to your throat. This close proximity, this… intimacy… was vaguely familiar and your mind replayed the moments after Wesley’s death when Negan had tenderly cared for you. Now, as his gloved hand remained gently tucked under your chin, you had the sudden urge to dip your head and nudge your cheek into it.

Like a dog. Like a goddamn puppy starved for attention.

“Walk with me,” he murmured. Even though it was more of an order than a request, it still felt comforting. There was nothing demanding or harsh in his tone. You felt him place his other hand softly on your shoulder as he turned you to walk in the direction he was headed. You swore your heart was either going to beat out of your chest or fly out of your mouth. Even just his hand resting on your shoulder sent sparks of electricity down your spine and you unconsciously shuddered. He glanced down at you for a moment with a look of mild concern, then returned his gaze to the worn path you were following.

He wasn’t talking, and you weren’t certain if that was a good sign or a bad one. You listened to his boots quietly thudding against the dirt, contrasting with the sound of your worn sneakers dragging slightly. At some point he slid his hand off your shoulder and reached down to gently clasp your hand in his. You gasped quietly at feeling of his bare skin against yours, and static shot down your back again.

What the actual fuck is going on.

You both continued to plod along in silence as you entered the main common area where dozens of people were milling about, some lounging in grassy areas reading books or working on projects. You waited for him to release your hand due to the watching eyes of everyone around, but if anything, his grasp grew slightly stronger. You quickly realized you were headed in the direction of your building, and began to nervously fidget with your other hand as your feet dragged a bit heavier than before. But Negan didn’t slow his pace, and as you approached the stairwell leading up to the floor your room was on, he turned and began the ascension with ease. You struggled like a toddler to keep up with him, and at one point you swore that he actually sped up.

After climbing the three flights to your floor, he led you directly to your room and quietly pushed the door open.

How the hell does he know which room is mine.

His voice was soft and deep as he spoke. “Take the day off. Everyone should have a Sunday off every now and then.” You began to protest frantically, instantly so worked-up that you practically squeaked, “But I can’t miss a day of points, there’s dinner tonight, and I have laundry tomorrow and I barely have enou-” but he quickly cut you off and growled, “Don’t worry about the fucking points, and don’t argue with me.” You fell silent and again stared at the ground before taking a deep breath, bringing your eyes back up to his, and whispering so quietly you almost hoped he wouldn’t hear you.

“Thank you.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s one goddamn day of points, but you’re fucking welcome,” he muttered as he turned to walk away.

Do it now. Goddammit, do it NOW.

 “No!” you called out after him, and he halted in the center of the hallway and turned his head halfway towards you as he called back with a hint of anger in his voice, “No what? I told you not to fucking argue about it. You don’t get to make that call. That’s my fucking job, not yours.” You sucked air quickly into your lungs as your heart raced, and then exhaled.

“I… I meant thank you for saving me… and for killing Wesley… I meant thank you for everything.”

He was motionless for a moment before he pivoted slowly on his heel to face you. You tried desperately to interpret the expression on his face as he took long, sauntering steps toward you. Your mouth suddenly felt like cotton, your tongue like sandpaper… you legitimately thought you might pass out. He finally stopped when he came so close to you that his breath was warm on your cheek. You didn’t even notice him reaching his hand to yours, and you jumped when you felt his skin again. That’s when you felt it. First the electricity like before… but there was something else, like a fire slowly building deep in your core. The warmness spread, and you tried not to let your mouth hang open in shock as you realized what was happening.

How the fuck am I getting turned on right now.

You internally screamed as he leaned down and tenderly kissed your forehead, just like he did when he saved you. There was another brief flashback, and you remembered being curled up against his chest like a terrified child. You remembered the smell of leather, sweat, and gun smoke, and realized you wanted to be in his arms again. Without thinking, you buried your head into his chest and clutched the front of his jacket. You waited for him to push you away, but almost immediately you felt his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer than ever before. His chest was warm, even through his shirt, and you felt the rise and fall of his breathing.

This definitely isn’t helping, but I’m definitely not complaining.

 You felt him shift his hips slightly, and wondered if he felt the heat rising within himself as well. You looked up into his dangerously beautiful eyes again and you suddenly realized what you had wanted since the beginning. Releasing your grasp on his jacket, you reached up and grabbed the front of his white tshirt, pulling his face down to yours.

His lips were soft and hesitant, and the first moment of connection seemed to last an eternity. He pulled away first and murmured with a sad smile, “You don’t have to do this, doll. You don’t owe me a goddamn thing.” You nervously bit your lip and took a breath before whispering, “I know I don’t have to… but I want to. I want this. I… I want you.”

His tongue ran quickly over his lips, his eyes darting around your face, studying everything in your expression. “Are you sure?” he questioned, and in response you pulled his face down to yours again and pressed your lips against his, catching his bottom lip between your teeth when he started to pull away. You thrust your hips forward into his and a groan slipped out of him. His tongue softly parted your lips and began exploring your mouth, and now you were the one who couldn’t contain soft whimpers and groans. As both of you began to breathe heavily, he powerfully - yet tenderly - picked you up and walked straight into your room, hastily pulling the door shut behind him and tossing Lucille on the floor.

This is actually happening.

As you threw your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist, you slid your lips from his mouth to his neck, where you teased and nibbled at his sensitive skin. The heat within you spread like wildfire when you felt his hardness pressing into you. A lustful growl escaped his throat and rumbled in his chest, and he whispered as he playfully nipped at your earlobe, “God, I’ve wanted this, doll… I’ve wanted this for a long fucking time.”

Next Chapter (Part Three)   -   Previous Chapter (Part One)

I know, I know - mild smut cliffhanger :D Trust me, part three will have ALL the smut. Thanks to all who have given me feedback and supported me - means more than you know!

The following people are tagged either for requesting to be, OR because they have inspired me to write. If you want to be removed or added, please let me know and I’ll be happy to do so.

@negans-network , @negans-dirty-girl, @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash , @wickednerdery , @ladylorelitany , @death2thevirgin , @autumnjade22 , @womderland-fandom , @thedeadwalks , @monicapernas , @vizhi0n , @my-achilles--heel , @marythenurse , @badsongwinchester , @cupcake5365 

[jawnsjournal]

it’s been some time.

i’ve been falling asleep on the phone with scott every night. he says he doesn’t mind. i just talk about my boring life. he talks a little, too, and i’ve worked out that he’s some sort of high-profile lawyer. i feel a lot less bad about him spending money on me now - i think i’m pocket change to him, which i don’t really mind. he listens when i talk and tells me that i’m beautiful on the inside. (as for my outside, he’s only seen my hands, feet, and calves, but obviously he thinks they’re beautiful because he wants to see them every day haha.) 

it’s getting easier and easier to call him daddy now that i genuinely want to. it sucks because i love my real dad and we don’t see each other a lot but we do have a good relationship. i’m just filling another hole with scott. it’s the “no one cares about me” hole. it’s the “i left for two weeks and only two people noticed” hole. it’s the “geoff only gave me forty minutes for anything to be about me” hole. 

yeah. geoff only gave me forty minutes, and i was asleep for half of it.

it’s not his fault that he’s going through shit. it’s bad enough that he cried over a damn pop-tart. but if he missed me as bad as he said he did, and if he cares as much as he says he does, could that not have waited? i sound like a fucking asshole but he makes me feel like i don’t matter. over and over and fucking over. yeah, he came to get me at the airport when i needed him to. but goddamn, i came home for him and i honestly think i should have just called an uber. he made me feel like shit and i slept on the fucking couch after looking forward to my bed for weeks. 

i needed to cry. i really, really needed to cry. but then he did. so i had to stop, and i put everything on hold again. to think i was planning to spill my guts...

i am the worst fucking friend in the world. but i just needed something to be about me for ONCE. one fucking day. is that so hard? he hadn’t seen me in weeks. 

after geoff went in my room i wanted to call scott, but i knew geoff would hear me. i was so mad that i almost did, wanting him to hear me talking to someone else instead of him, wanting to hear me call someone “daddy,” but i decided not to. i’d already told scott that i’d talk to him the next day, and if i called scott, i just would have started crying and then geoff would have come out of my room to see what was going on and it would have been a whole big thing. plus, something tells me that scott wouldn’t like me having a guy in my apartment at eleven at night. he knows i live alone.

i like being his baby. i feel gross sometimes still, but this is a good arrangement. oh, and he agreed to pay my rent. he didn’t even ask how much it was. so that’s good.

anyway.

it was like heaven seeing geoff when my plane landed. i literally ran to hug him, and he was holding me so tight and telling me that he missed me and that he loved me. does he not get that it’s just words? does he not realize that in under an hour, i was majorly regretting coming home because of him? god, i was so angry. i haven’t been that mad in a really, really long time.

i thought that the night would be like my dream. i thought he’d want to hold me and rub my back, that at some point i’d get in the bath and he’d sit and talk to me and we could just relax and i could talk it out, cry it out. but no. no. never. i was so fucking stupid to think that, to be looking forward to him coming over. i really should have called an uber. or just driven home myself. i fell asleep on the way home in geoff’s car, but i think i could have driven if i’d had to.

so, yeah, i slept on the couch. welcome home, jawn, right?

gemma was actually happy that i was home, and i took her out to dinner the next day. picked her up from where she’s been staying at her dad’s (she didn’t say why, but i wondered if it had something to do with everything that’s been going on. i wouldn’t blame her at all if it was. she’s under a lot of stress about geoff and she keeps mentioning that her mental health isn’t great, but she won’t tell me why. i’m trying to get her to talk about other things for now so she’ll open up later. i hope it works cause she doesn’t deserve to be alone in whatever she’s going through.) and we started driving to get chinese. on the way she asked about geoff, and she was so upset that i pulled the car over and stopped, and we sat there with the radio off and talked for like ten whole minutes. both of us were crying, but it was nothing compared to how much i need to cry. i was watching ducktales of all things today and i got choked up. i’m losing it. 

gemma said a lot of the same things i’ve been thinking about geoff. that he’s been through a lot, but the world can’t stop. that he hardly even notices us anymore. to be completely honest, it sucks. but i’ve been talking to gem a lot more since this whole thing with geoff. 

i feel guilty because i said i’d talk to him on behalf of both of us, and i haven’t. i have no idea what to say. i want to tell him to go to therapy, but he already does. it’s just not helping at all. i don’t know what the next step is. 

i’m just... hitting the point where i’m worrying about myself. worrying that i might melt down in public, worrying that i might lash out at somebody i love because i’m feeling way too much. cause i am - feeling way too much. i almost just said something to gemma about scott. scott! imagine if i had. i’ve been keeping it quiet all this time, and i really almost just blurted it out. not because i want her to know but because i want someone to know about anything i’m going through. (i talk to scott, but i can’t talk to scott about scott, you know? and i don’t feel right talking to scott about geoff.)

at least people online think i’m pretty. the follower count on instagram keeps climbing because i keep posting pictures, short videos, boomerangs, close-ups of my scales... it’s all kinds of people following me. there are about to be more people following me than following the band account, which is insane. in-sane!

will mentioned in my dms that i was over 100k and joked that i wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore now that i’m famous, and i felt panic in my chest because i don’t want him to even joke about that. i told him he was the nicest person i’ve talked to in years and to please not say that ever again because it wasn’t funny. i think he thinks i’m a girl now, but he said before that he doesn’t care either way if i’m a girl or a guy. i feel bad not telling him my name, but at least i’m not making him call me wesley. will calls me j. 

whatever. i probably forgot some stuff, but i’m too tired to care. i’m calling scott again so i can go to bed. he makes me feel safe.