#type o negative humor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

x-heesy · 2 months

Text

𝕰𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞𝖉𝖆𝖞 𝖎𝖘 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 👻

ℑ 𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔟𝔩𝔢

𝔄𝔫𝔡, 𝔟𝔬𝔶, ℑ 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔖𝔥𝔢’𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣

𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨

𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔨 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨

𝔑𝔬𝔴 𝔦𝔱’𝔰 𝔄𝔩𝔩 ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔰 𝔈𝔳𝔢

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩

𝔚𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱?

ℑ 𝔟𝔢𝔱 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩

𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩

ℌ𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔶 ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫

𝔅𝔞𝔟𝔶

𝔖𝔥𝔢’𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔱 𝔞 𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔑𝔬𝔰𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔲

𝔒𝔥 𝔟𝔞𝔟𝔶, 𝔏𝔦𝔩𝔶 𝔐𝔲𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯

𝔄𝔦𝔫’𝔱 𝔤𝔬𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔚𝔢𝔩𝔩, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔡 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩

𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔢𝔡

𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔬𝔫 𝔪𝔢

𝔅𝔬𝔬 𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥-𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔣𝔱

𝔜𝔢𝔞𝔥, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔤𝔬 𝔬𝔲𝔱 ‚𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦𝔱’𝔰 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤

𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫’𝔱 𝔤𝔬 𝔬𝔲𝔱 ‚𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔬𝔬𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤

𝔇𝔶𝔢 ‚𝔢𝔪 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨

𝔒𝔬𝔥, 𝔡𝔶𝔢 ‚𝔢𝔪 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨

𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢

𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔩𝔣 𝔰𝔨𝔦𝔫 𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔱𝔰

𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔠𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔰

𝔄𝔫 𝔢𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔲𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩

𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔥 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡

ℌ𝔢𝔯 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢

𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰

𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔰 ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔫

𝔜𝔢𝔞𝔥, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔤𝔬 𝔬𝔲𝔱 ‚𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦𝔱’𝔰 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤

𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫’𝔱 𝔤𝔬 𝔬𝔲𝔱 ‚𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔬𝔬𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤

𝔇𝔶𝔢 ‚𝔢𝔪 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨

𝔒𝔬𝔥, 𝔡𝔶𝔢 ‚𝔢𝔪 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨

𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢

(𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔶𝔢𝔰 ‚𝔢𝔪) 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢

(𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢)

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡

𝔚𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡

𝔖𝔞𝔠𝔯𝔢 𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔲

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡

ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔣𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡

𝔚𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔚𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡

𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢

(𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔶𝔢𝔰 ‚𝔢𝔪) 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢

(𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢)

(𝔒𝔬𝔥. 𝔶𝔢𝔞𝔥)

𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨, 𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔫𝔲𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢

𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨 𝔑𝔬. 1 (𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔐𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔖𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢 -𝔄𝔩𝔩) 𝔟𝔶 𝔗𝔶𝔭𝔢 𝔒 𝔑𝔢𝔤𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢

@bethanythestrange @wayward-cat @frenchpsychiatrymuderedmycnut @bigbonzo @seanisnothing

7 notes · View notes

sammysclawsnblud · 1 year

Text

Black No. 1 makes me wanna dramatically fall down a cliff in victorian gowns

#goth aesthetic #victorian #victorian gothic #whimsigoth #nu goth #goth #goth memes #i need god #romantic goth #high thoughts #type 0 negative #type o negative #goth music #alternative #alternative goth #mall goth #autism humor #stoner vibes

73 notes · View notes

pyretta666 · 4 months

Text

type o negative's music videos (1993-2007)

happy 62nd birthday to one of the most talented, humorous, and handsome vocalists and bassists, peter steele! thank you for sharing your unique and amazing art with the world—especially your beautiful soul. you are dearly missed...💚

#peter steele #type o negative #gifs #☠︎: pyretta's post

190 notes · View notes

sadie-bug345 · 18 days

Note

OK so I was wondering if you could do greasers head canons x gn!Goth s/o who just moved to town, and everyone, both socials and greasers are scared of them because everyone thinks that they’re a witch I know that’s super specific, but it’s an idea that’s been in my head for a really long time

Thanks pookieeeee! Much love your writing is my addiction

i’m twinning with @urlocalnonbinarybastard !! go check out their amazing blog‼️🫵‼️

anyways pony is def intimidated by you

yet also intrigued 🤨

he honestly just thinks the whole mystery aspect of your personality and vibe is quite literary LMAO

def wants to match your fits you cannot convince me he doesn’t🫶

johnny noticed you and just kinda always had you in the back of his mind

like he just couldn’t stop thinking abt you

which i think is super sweet😭🥰

you guys are actually the cutest together like just the vibes match

and no one messes w yall PERIOD

soda was a little surprised when he had a crush on you

like he’s used to dating the cherry type (no hate to cherry cause id date her too🤷‍♂️💞)

anyways you guys are both night and day

givingggg black cat golden retriever

which i LOVE BTW

you guys are deffff a power couple

darry was prob really intimidated cause there were lots of rumors going on abt you

and guy doesn’t really get out much cause he spends most weekdays working like crazy

so he didn’t really get to meet you for himself for a while

but once he did actually interact w you he’s like TOTALLY crushing

you seem very sure of yourself and being around 14 year old kid brother pony, darry wasn’t really used to that

probably the most surprising couple here which just makes it better 🫶

yours and dally’s vibes definitely match

but guy was fr scared

so he’d probably cover that up with dumb comments

BUT you hold your own against him and he ends up regretting it

(this is like the first time in his life he’s actually thought abt other peoples feelings 😐)

asks you out a little after and you’re just like

”uhhh…ok🤷‍♂️”

POWER COUPLE.

two bit and you mainly just bond thru humor

other than that it’s a very opposites attract situation

you have really dark humor which two bit wasn’t expecting cause of your rep

but he LOVES IT

you guys just have inside joke after inside joke

and you guys have that “F WHAT ANYONE THINKS” mentality💞

steve prob saw you at a gas station

or soda mentioned you to him and he’s like

”i gotta know more🧐” LMAO

you guys are actually really cute

hes really sweet to you

and promises to punch anyone who says anything remotely negative abt you💀

go check out @urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites’s blog!!! they have amazing content there🫶🙏😀🥰 ANYWAYS MY INBOX IS OPEN!!

#dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders sodapop #johnny cade #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy curtis

31 notes · View notes

iheartchv · 2 months

Note

Hiii, i’ve seen your match ups before but just realized that i wasn’t following, ugh! But anyways, i came here asking for a match up of a call of duty character, if you have time of course. So little about me: Im a little bit of a nerd so i do well in school and i care a lot about it. I also have like “weird” hobbies, i collect animal bones and i collect old books. I listen to mainly goth music but with some metal and rock on the side and my favorite artists are : Type O Negative, Ghost, The Cure, London after Midnight.

About how i look. I have long dyed blonde hair with extremely dark makeup usually. I also have facial piercings and i in the future i want to get tattoos but only a couple. I mostly only have black clothes but my favorite color is actually a very muted dark blue.

Soo thank you in advance and have a grand day!! -Noora💗

🤔 I match you with...

Simon "Ghost" Riley 💀

I think Ghost would fall for you

Ofc it takes a bit of time but he would be smitten with you

He feels something there between you two

One of your "weird" hobbies, he doesn't find them weird at all

Others might find it morbid

But hey, Ghost's got a dark sense of humor so he doesn't mind it at all

And there's nothing wrong with collecting old books

He'd like to read them if you'd let him

Loves your taste in music

You'd probably catch him tapping his foot to the music when he's reading something

Your looks...

Surely you must've been someone divine

He finds you to be otherworldly in a good way

In his eyes, you're such a gorgeous creature to ever walk the earth

He'd gently as possible play with the ends of your hair...

Just to feel is its soft as he imagined

It is.

Then he'd start to run his fingers through them, stirring the scent of your shampoo

You always smell so good its addicting to him

Ghost's love gifts, I think, are physical touch ofc, and acts of service

Hug him, lay your head on his chest/shoulder

Let him know that you're there, and that you're real

"I used to not believe in angels, that they weren't real... but I think do now"

He'd call you his angel/angel of the night, whichever he's in the mood for

22 notes · View notes

tequiilasunriise · 1 year

Text

Wenclair’s dynamic is so silly because they’re BOTH little freaks in their own ways like:

Wednesday, on the ground and bleeding out: Enid… Enid, stop your useless crying. My torso is already bleeding enough, no need for my ears to j-join in

Enid, holding her close: SHUT UP WILLA YOURE DYING

Bianca, being the rational one: What’s your blood type, Addams?

Wednesday: B negative

Enid, cradling Wednesday’s body even closer to her: IM TRYING NOT TO WEDNESDAY WAHHH DW I’LL AVENGE YOU!! THIS KITTY WILL SHRED EM UP WAAAHHH-!!!

✨Meanwhile✨

Yoko, trying to keep Enid awake: C’mon mutt, stay with me! Quick, what’s your type?

Enid, delirious from blood loss: Fuck, uh… dark hair, beautifully piercing eyes, a dry sense of humor with a thousand sharp knives-

Yoko, furiously shaking Enid’s limp body: NO YOU GAYASS! YOUR BLOOD TYPE!

Enid: O-oh… *glances down at all of her cuts* uh… red?

Yoko, stepping away from Enid: Yep, you’re dead now-

Wednesday, BUSTING in with arms full of medical supplies and blood bags: And you people told me memorizing everyone’s records was a bad idea

Yoko: Because it IS- you know what? Fuck it, just save your girlfriend already

#bianca and yoko are forever suffering under Wenclair Shenanigans(tm)#enid would be blleding out and STILL be like ‘yayayayy willa u came to save me!!’ with a shaky thumbs up #meanwhile a bleeding out wednesday would facepalm while on the verge of literal death #ur honor theyre so stupid and i LOVE them so much #Wednesday memorized everyone’s records bc she needs to know everyone’s weaknesses #and is so smug and casual about all of the dirt she knows #Enid just swoons over how cool and smart her fav goth is #once more Bianca and Yoko suffering over these two unself-aware gayasses #wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #yoko tanaka #bianca barclay

271 notes · View notes

aliceindaisychains999 · 11 months

Text

General Postal Dude Sr Headcanons (Cool Facts)

Just your average guy trying to survive the horrors

Favorite music genres are oldschool EBM, various metal, dark ambient, grunge, goth rock, goth industrial and surprisingly some classical(He won’t tell anyone though). Sometimes he’ll listen to straight up 90s gabber or noise on high volume with headphones on because it’s weirdly satisfying to him. It drowns out the noise that usually goes on in his mind

A few top artists for example: And One, Terrorfakt, Alice in Chains, Front 252, KMFDM and Type-O Negative

Was involved in the military at some point, hence the machine gun he somehow smuggled out. He was discharged during basic training as he couldn’t hide his depression and schizophrenia any longer. So, his next pick at a government job was the United States Postal Service

Has a sweet tooth that comes in waves. The Dude will go without it for a long while until a spike occurs for two weeks and he indulges in baked goods and a lot of candy. Airheads and Zots are his go-tos

He had a deep relationship with a woman for a while, but she couldn’t handle his impulsive nature and harshly dumped him. He didn’t take it well. However, little did he know that this woman would soon bring The Postal Dude Jr. into the world

Is surprisingly far more sanitary than his son. If he knew Jr was pissing on strangers and the absolute lack of organization his trailer has, he’d be so disappointed. Although Postal Dude Sr’s bedroom is scrawled with chicken scratch and scribbled black sharpie all over the wall

The Dude does in fact lift weights to keep up his bulk. Arms be very strong and well-sculpted

The Dude had his own website which looked like every edgy teens did back in the 1990s… despite him being in his late 20s. Lots of cool stamps showing off his cynical sense of humor, tons of dark red and skulls everywhere. This is where his war journal entries would be uploaded. In between is him talking about his favorite weapons, how to make molotov cocktails at home and infodumping about paranormal topics. Mothman is a wonder to behold

The Dude is mostly a shut-in. He may go out to run errands, play frisbee with his dog and scope out the alternative/goth nightclubs JUST for the music to hear new artists. But he otherwise feels most comfortable homebound.

One of The Dude’s favorite past times is what he calls “Junkin’”. This is when he runs to a junkyard to collect stuff that he finds neat. He also loves to take out his anger by shooting at scrapmetal and breaking glass

He might practice misanthropy, but he hates bigoted people (which are one of the many reasons he became misanthropic in the first place).

If he could make more money, he wishes to be able to travel to Japan. He thinks it looks beautiful over there and wonders if it’s more peaceful than the shithole town he’s stuck in

He can talk to the demon in his dreams. He often is afraid to sleep because of it, so he forces himself some nights to stay up all night until it fails and he crashes to sleep at 2am. It’s always taunting him how he’ll inevitably burn in hell unless he gives in his divine purpose to cleanse the Earth.

#postal #postal 1 #postal 1997 #postal 97 #postal dude #postal 1 dude #postal dude 1 #writing #cw violence #tw violence #tw guns #p1 dude #p1dude #tw religious guilt #tw religious trauma #tw religious mention #tw piss mention

78 notes · View notes

nishibishi · 2 years

Text

JEON JUNGKOOK FIC-RECS:- Series List (1)

Hello, wonderful people. So I'm finally here after a pretty long time, what more can I say, I've been so busy with my academics and all. It sucks to be a high schooler. So basically after seeing BTS updating their MBTI types, I thought maybe I should take the test again and IT TURNS OUT TO ISFP-T!!! AND AM I NOT SURPRISED TO SEE THE SIMILARITIES? I would suggest y'all to take the MBTI TEST on truity.com as well. You can message me about your personality types as well, as I would definitely love to get to know y'all better.

NOW getting to the point. I bring you all a fic-recs list featuring none other our golden mak-nae, and my bias wrecker, Jeon Jungkook.

Again, I would like to inform you that none of these wonderful masterpieces involve my underwhelming talent of writing and imagination, they solely belong to their respective owners, who've put their everything into these work of fiction to make them so beautiful and memorable. I'm merely an admirer, a fan, a dreamer who loves to indulge in the world of fantasy for an escape from reality. I would highly recommend you all, to go through their master-lists and give them your love and support. Happy reading!!!

WARNING:-

MOST OF THESE ONE-SHOTS WILL BE 18+ (mentions of any mental unrest, mentions of any death, blasphemy, infidelity, mentions of blood, and explicit smut)- MINORS SHOULD STRICTLY NOT INTERACT.

LEGENDS:-

a - angst ; f - fluff ; m - mature ; s - supernatural ; d - drama ; h - humor

From Home (m) by @gyukult (a, f, s, h) [rich-kid, fake dating]

Jeon Jung-kook knows that he's rich as fuck. and oh god, he knows EVERYTHING about his typical spoilt ways of showing it off. But when his loving mother decides to kick him out of their estate, to make him more responsible and self-dependent, he is determined. To earn his position back. Thanks to you, child prodigy, who might make his plans easier.

I have had my pleasure of that very old concept o rich-falling-for-poor-and-family-backlashes. But the concept of THIS VERY FIC, oh lord, has astounded me to the core. The comic timing, the intriguing differences between the characters' family background, the phantom expectations and the bitter realities. A must read!!!!

After Midnight (m) by @gyukult (a, f, h, d) [casual relationship]

After the announcement of your little sister tying knot with the love of her life, you realize that it's high time for you to break ties with your fuckbuddy Jungkook, and finally get settled down with someone more of a husband material guy. But it's unfair for Jungkook for two reasons: one, you're a doctor, and two, will he ever find a pussy that bomb?

Dude, no review will ever be able to describe how PERFECT this fic is. I've never ever seen such a perfect fuckboy characterization written for Jungkook. He's perfectly sweet, stupid, sexy and dude, his comic timing just when the OC's practicality begins to empower him, oh lord. My favorite. Period.

Animal (m) by @cutaepatootie (a, f, d) [boxer, hate-to-love]

Lying on a hospital bed in his 60s, Jungkook recounts his past life. The one where his ruthlessness, his recklessness, his rudeness, every negative aspect of his life, was brightened with the solitary feeling of love. The love, which he had for you.

If I ever try to write a single word about this fic in its appreciation, I just end up crying a flood of tears. Be ready to have a box of tissue beside you before reading this masterpiece. A touching tale of love, hate and grief. A must read.

Let Me Stay Close To You by @9uk (a, d) [bullying, college-life]

When your high-school bully Jungkook re-enters your life as your college mate AND your partner for project, you cannot help but fear his intentions. But for Jungkook, it's all different. A drastic difference that makes his heart pace faster than the light's speed.

This fic is the far-most gut wrenching story portraying Jungkook in a not-so-typical setting and shade. Even though the ending of the fic somewhat falls out and becomes exhausting, it is still virtuous in its glory. A good take with a new perspective.

Knife's Edge (m) by @readyplayerhobi (a, f, d) [mafia, infidelity] ft. Jimin

Ever since your scarred childhood, you have known about your marriage with Jungkook in future, with you leading a life in a hellhole forever. And you're alright since you've got Jungkook beside you. But one night, everything changes when you end up laying your eyes upon Jimin, who promises comfort and love upon his arrival.

I know. Jimin is my bias, I should be rooting for him but oh lord, the mafia!jungkook takes it all for me to fuck the shit outta OC for going astray, dude. I'm speechless, so no words. Just dive right in!!

Falling Skies (m) by @fortunexkookie (a, f, d) [childhood friends]

The art of permanence isn't your cup of tea; despite that, your best friend, Ji-yeon and her twin brother, Jungkook, are irreplaceable to you. Ji-yeon, garnering all your love and Jungkook, garnering all your annoyance. You cannot endure Jungkook, that's for sure. But one unexpected catastrophe it takes, for you to realize what Jungkook is to you in a true sense.

The twin thing concept was very new to me, and reading this fic reminded of Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami, both focusing on loss, emptiness, love, coping and the following hardships. One of the best fics I've read. A must read.

I hate you, I love you (m) by @jungblue (a, f, d) [best friends]

You have been through every phase and feeling of your life with Jungkook: enemies, friends and best friend forever. Too bad, and too late, you ended up catching feelings for him when he had already committed himself to someone who's not you.

Cute, Sexy, Lovely. GO AND READ THIS ASAP!!!

Innocence (m) by @monoguk (a, h, f) [one sided love, fuckboy]

For you, the concept of sex is flabbergasting but for Jungkook, that is the only thing his world revolves about. But once he falls for you innocence, nothing even as impeccable as sex can enamor him anymore.

It's not completed yet but dude, have not fallen in love with the simple and cute dynamics of it? A must read!!!!

True Care (m) by @joonsgalaxy (a, h, d, f) [bodyguard, family issues]

Your new bodyguard, Jungkook is no way similar to your father's bodyguard. He's young, cute (did I say hot?) and shy. Two of you together navigate through the hardships of each other's life and create a bond, safeguarding each other from one inevitable thing: love.

Oh lord, this one fic stays in my heart forever. The accurate representation of the very Jungkook we know. How delightful! Moreover, I just loved the way the OC was written: bold, practical and sensitive. Just dive right in!!

The Brothel (m) by @plumblackjeon (a, d) [unrequited love, rich kid]

In the eyes of society, Jeon Jungkook is a typical rich brat, spending his nights in brothels, getting wasted. But when you find him intoxicated in the corridor of your apartment, you can't help but find his true self, even if that means wandering into the brothel.

I don't know if this fic was supposed to be a one shot, but it snapped something in me. I've never felt so gut-wrenched after reading a fic. It made me rethink a lot about my opinions and ideas about the nightlife. It also gave me glimpses of After Dark by Haruki Murakami and reminded me of a song named lovememore. by dosii.

Astonishing and dark, a must read.

So that is it guys. Do let me know about your own opinions about these fics or any other fics that you want to recommend me. Happy Reading!!!

654 notes · View notes

lunaprincipessa · 3 months

Text

ENTRY SEVENTY-FOUR

Despite having a wide range in music taste, there's only a handful of bands that have really stuck with me through the years, getting me through the bad and helping me celebrate the good.

My top three of this handful are Nine Inch Nails, Tool, and Type O Negative.

A couple of days ago, I came across a comment section discussing Peter Steele's death. Something that was said, that was agreed with and emphasized on by multiple people, has been bothering me to my core since I read it.

Many people feel that Peter Steele would still be alive today had he "been with someone who gave a shit."

We might still have him around today "if he had someone who cared enough to get him to the hospital on time."

My heart sank and my stomach dropped after reading this. I immediately logged off. That didn't sit well with me at all.

I then tried looking it up. I felt discouraged and silly, giving up rather quickly. I thought I didn't know how or what, in specific, to search for anyway. I also thought there's a chance that it might not be true, that it's just talk, rumors, that kind of thing.

"Maybe people were just saying that because they don't like her. I have no clue!" Now I'm starting to question myself. I log back on to look for the comment section but everything refreshed and I didn't catch the name of the page that made the post.

True or untrue, the thought alone really fuckin disturbed me. I mean, it really did. He deserved someone to care for who he was outside of the celebrity. I hope to the Gods that those comments weren't true.

Peter Steele, aside from "musical genius" and "one of the most influential," was described to be kind, generous, helpful, supportive, inventive, and a hard worker.

When I'd see interviews with him on TV back in the day, and seeing interviews today when venturing around on YouTube, I found him to be very interesting, intelligent, and insightful. His dark humor was always fun too. And, of course, he was drop dead gorgeous. 🥰😌 The man was a living god, just saying.

Needless to mention the passion in the music he wrote and in the performances he gave (thank you TV and YouTube for letting me experience that by the way, I never got to see Type O Negative live).

He believed showing the world his heart would draw people to the band, and he was right. He said he wanted to be remembered as someone who helped people through hard times, and he is. It makes me sad to know he was sobered up, excited to make more music, and hopeful for the future just before his passing. Gut-wrenching when you think about it, and when you think about all the things he went through before that as well.

Being misunderstood, struggling with addiction, and the mental health issues involving Bipolar disorder, grief, depression, dealing with the aftermath of lockup, and feeling betrayed by his family. He also said himself he had huge problems with abandonment and loss, probably because he experienced those things more than we know.

In addition, being unlucky in love still blows my mind to this day. Especially knowing how he was worshipped by women all over this country, including me. How many of us out here would've worshipped the ground he walked on? And you mean to tell me some of the women that actually had a chance, screwed it up? Considering things like taking the breakups hard and being cheated on, he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, wasn't he? Some souls are just too good for this world, I swear. And his was one of them.

But that's what terrifies me... He was unlucky in love, so what if the comments are true? Literally makes me sick to think about, especially since the band, his childhood friends, tried to reach out to him when he was sick but was only able to speak with her. There's a dark aura all over that.

Someone please tell me it's a rumor, that he had a good woman at his side in those final days. Hearing about toxic exes shows where a person was lost and hurting, and he deserved better. He deserved peace and quiet and comfort. He deserved protection.

Men like this, regardless of how big and tall and strong they are, need to be protected. Their bodies are hard but their hearts are fragile. People that are kind-hearted will often suffer the most in life. The way he loved his women and the way he loved his animals showed he felt everything so, so deeply. He needed to be protected. Yes, men are biologically stronger than we women are, but they need us to protect them too, just in a different way.

My guess is that Peter's spirit is still with us, silently urging us all to never forget about Type O Negative. And we never will. RIP 💔

More thoughts later.

#Peter Steele #We Lost a Legend #We Lost a Pure Soul #Type O Negative #Green Man #RIP #We Will Remember You Peter #We Will Remember Type O #Gone but Never Forgotten #Timeless Music for All Generations

12 notes · View notes

vanalex · 3 months

Text

One of the awful decisions in my TON life being:

Took some steroids and adrenaline

Finlandia vodka, hallucinogens

Mixed it with blood and orange juice

Liquid protein and ice cubes

20 notes · View notes

pupyr0arz · 21 days

Text

WHILE IM TALKING ABT ROACH here’s my current HC meta:

-he hasn’t talked to his family since he was like, 19. Sorry happy family roach lovers he absolutely loathes them and they don’t like him either. He feels they were more concerned with appearances than actual substance and they didn’t treat him well

-he’s selectively mute, but also genuinely prefers to sign over speaking. He can speak at times, he just doesn’t like it and finds sign or writing is better. When he’s anxious he finds signing and writing more difficult to do and speaking impossible. It takes a lot of coaxing

-I feel like roach masks his issues with humor. I like silly roach a lot that’s him to me and I accept that fanon but I feel like he deflects with jokes and more erratic behavior. He really, really, really does not want to talk about something so he’ll play it off and then drag you to go do something silly. This guy does negative communication. Even if he has an issue with you it’ll wait until he like cannot not deal with it he really needs to be forced to do so

-great cook but hates cooking. Never had any good memories with it, doesn’t find it fun or anything but a hassle that makes a mess. If he does cook for someone it’s a lot of affection going into that though. Doesnt really cook for other people tho, he learned mostly for himself and most of his recipes are to specifically his taste.

-no idea how to dress. Like, 0 clue. Help this man. He likes fashion in that he’s like wow that looks nice to basically anything and everything. Doesn’t get how some things are hated so strongly.

-he had an older brother who he felt a kinship with. The two fought like cats and dogs but they were pretty close and shared a lot of the same interests. The older brother liked Roach but the two would fight and take petty revenge on each other a lot and he let roach make a lot o f the same mistakes he did. The two also kept up the jokes act when they were kids in public and ti was probably to draw attention away from awful parents. Anyways he died and roach does not want to talk about it at all.

-roach really did not like the military until he ended up in the 141. He stuck through it because he’s a stubborn bastard but he ran into a lot of difficulties before MacTavish was his cap.

-roach is the type who will put up thru pain n discomfort for an arbitrary goal any day of the week, casually and seriously. He is never out of hills to die on. Loves having strong opinions on things.

-despises people he deems inconsiderate. Is accidentally inconsiderate a lot. More on that, bc of his closest relationships in the past he assumes a lot of his boundaries are implicit and spin fact explicitly should not be discussed because they make him uncomfortable. It’s hard for him to take violations of those not personally and he has a short temper. He might go out of his way to upset you and then feel AWFUL about it. Or not depending on what you did. If he does understand it was a mistake he’d feel bad, he’s been in that situation a lot but it doesn’t occur to him other people may have difficulties understanding each other like he does. From his failure to pick up on social cues and the treatment of his mistakes as intention he’s got an unconscious bias to assume everyone else does everything intentionally always bc that’s what it seems. When he was a kid he’d break things a lot or frame his brother for something that would get him into trouble or even get into physical fights.

-lone survivor!roach would take things very not seriously. He’d treat the apocalypse as more of a game than anything, eating when he remembers to, taking massive risks to his life without much care. He’s kind of dissociated from himself and any sorts of risks or previous attachments. Would underestimate his need for socialization. Very skilled and very likely to die in some stupid way.

-141!apoco!roach is a lot more serious. He stretches himself thin as a mediating personality. If the group is experiencing social strain he’s working overtime trying to soothe nerves. He’s probably the least suspicious of new members if just because he feels like someone has to, even if he doesn’t like the new guy. Puts most of his survival in the hands of his team. Never really thought of his future of more than a couple days and isn’t going to start now. Not the best with abstract questions but keeps an eye on rations. Thinks group politics with other groups is stupid, advocating for just killing the asshole and moving on.

#.bark #roach #cod #gary roach sanderson #cod Gary Sanderson #he’s so autistic

8 notes · View notes

arcielee · 1 year

Text

Dancing in the Dark

Tom Bennett x OFC Summary: War is spilling over Europe and a route is being created to help POWs escape occupied France. Sometimes love does not last forever, but lasts long enough. Warnings: Smut/NSFW later on, some misogyny cause it’s the 1940s

Chapter 3

Dr. Webster O’Connor made sure to donate blood every fifty-six days, without fail, since his arrival to the hospital one year prior. He knew his O-negative blood type was imperative and shortages were now rampant across Europe with the Blitzkrieg. He tried to coax Bennett, but his words of duty and honor were all but ignored until the promise of a cookie enticed him, since all sweets were rationed for those who donated.

Tom had been relocated to a back room where the occupants were mostly amputees recovering, a luxury as it was considered to be the silent wing of the busy hospital. They were laid up in the beds, waiting for the nurse on duty to arrive.

Webster noticed Tom’s cheeky grin and how Vera ignored his expression, how his eyes washed over her and the blush in her pale features responded to his steady gaze. She then looked at him and her eyebrow lifted. “Is this where your business will be held?” Her tone was dry, as always.

“Miss Vera,” Webster replied with good humor. “My ears may be failing me, but I swear you just teased me.”

She rolled her eyes, suppressing her smile, and grabbed for some cotton swabs and alcohol. “I feel I must repeat myself with you, but I find your humor…” she faltered for the word. “Eigenartig.”

“Ah,” he kept his smile. “Peculiar.”

“Teaching the kraut English?” She froze as she remembered Tom in the bed behind her. He wore clean, knitted long johns and a shirt, with his blonde locks tousled and his perpetual smirk on his lips. “Does your charity know no end, Webster?”

He closed his eyes, his voice annoyed. “Sit and be quiet, Tom. Let the good nurse do her job.”

Vera grit her teeth as she finished taping down the needle in the doctor’s arm, checking the line so the blood would not clot. She then turned to face him, his face aglow with her undivided attention and wearing a confident grin. “Move over,” her voice commanded, knowing all too well that a polite ask would get her nowhere with him.

His grin spread, showing the dimpled lines of his cheeks. “Yes, missus,” his eyes glinted as he shifted over and allowed her to sit close. He extended his arm across her lap, her hands cool to touch as she found a vein and then she reached for a new cotton swab. She could feel him peering at her, noticing his grin fading. “That cunt did a number on you,” he mussed, his eyes now looking over the damage to the left side of her face. “No honor amongst Nazis.”

Webster was alert to his words. “Wait, you saw who did this to her?”

“She managed it without fuss, though,” Tom continued, with a hint of admiration. “Not a tear from this one and then she threw back whatever German nonsense, making them turn tail and run off.”

“It is done and over,” was all she could manage, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she prodded to find a vein. She avoided his eyes, finding his intense look made her heart flutter in her chest and she needed her focus to be on the needle in her hand. “There will be a prick-” and she was quick to find the vein, reaching for the medical tape. “I will be back,” she promised, standing up and taking care to move his arm.

“I’ll be waiting,” his fixed stare almost unnerved her, keeping the color to her cheeks when he added, “I’ll even share my cookie with you,” his smile sly.

Vera excused herself and left the room, her hands rubbing her cheeks as she walked away from them. Tom cocked his head, watching as she exited. “Does she ever smile?” He broke his eyes away and looked at Webster, who was watching him with his eyebrow raised. “I feel like I am getting hints of it sometimes…”

“I see you aren’t as adamant about leaving as you were before.”

Tom sneered, “Naw, I am grabbing this cookie and leaving when it’s done. Though, I might linger if she wants to share it with me-”

“What are you gonna do without help?” He interrupted, ignoring his comment. “Everyone is now a prisoner of war and you think you can, what? Have a cookie and walk out the door?”

“I’ll think of something,” Tom looked forward, pursing his lips.

“But what if I could help you?” When Webster saw he caught his interest, he leaned towards him and lowered his voice. “But this will need to be done quick and you must do as you are told, because if we can get this figured out, well, it wouldn’t be just you we can save.”

His jaw clenched for a moment. “Alright, alright,” Tom watched as his blood snaked through and dripped into the glass bottle. “What do you need from me, then?”

In another part of the hospital, Vera busied herself with menial tasks, desperate to find anything so she could forget the piercing eyes of Bennett. She jumped at the soft tap to her shoulder and turned to see Henriette. “The linen?” She asked her, her voice soft. Vera paused at the bed she was making and then said, “I am preparing for any more that may come.”

Henriette hummed in response, a small smile to her face as she stepped to the other side, helping tuck the sheets in the corners. “I believe Webster may have found someone who is willing,” her voice was still soft, for her ears alone. “You will need to leave us soon,” Vera watched her as she spoke. “Tonight, you should prepare a bag with the understanding that you will not return.”

She stared at the bed, her jaw tight with the instructions. “Yes,” she said, her voice thin, and then she looked up at Henriette. “You will stay here?”

Henriette nodded. “I will stay and I will help Webster, but you must go. Major Lieber will be in tomorrow,” she hesitated. “You should come in for the later shift, through the back entrance where the ambulances come. Webster will have everything together and will know more as to where you will meet with Lyam.”

“Henriette?”

She looked at Vera and saw her struggle to find the words that sat behind her glassy green eyes. Henriette reached for her hand to give a gentle squeeze and they remained quiet as they finished making the bed.

-----

“Bennett,” Vera said, staring at the doctor.

“Yes,” he nodded, looking through his desk. “He has agreed to accompany you and see if there is a legitimate route we can set up–”

“No one else, only him?” She asked, cutting through his words.

Dr. O’Connor cleared his throat. “Well, yes. He was very passionate about leaving a few weeks back and I thought he would be the best to ask.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Very well,” she began. “I do not believe you, Webster, but we are now out of time.” She reached into her purse to retrieve a small, leather bound journal and grabbed a pen from his desk. “So, what am I to do?”

He repeated what Henriette told her earlier, only advising to pack for a very long walk. Vera felt her throat tighten as she listened and noted his instructions, realizing she would miss the obnoxious American, but she trusted that if they were successful, she would not lose touch.

That night, Vera entered the small room she was renting from a sweet, older couple. She did not have a lot that she brought to Paris and would pack even less in her knapsack: her papers, the valid and the forge, extra socks with a change of clothes, a locket with a picture of her folks, and a few books she considered her comfort reads.

She then pulled up a loose floorboard to retrieve a cigar box where she had been storing a combination of currencies, both British and franc. She set aside her rent, along with a letter penned to explain her sudden departure to her landlords, and then tucked the rest into her bag.

Morning finally came after a fitful night; Vera climbed down the stairs and visited with the couple, who of course invited her in for a small breakfast, engaging with their smiles and polite conversation. She was careful to drop that she would be working late at the hospital, to prolong them noticing her sudden disappearance. In the early evening, she dressed into her nursing uniform once more and tucked her boots into her lunch tin to carry inconspicuously with her knapsack.

She made her familiar walk towards the hospital, taking in the vision of Paris with her steps. A sadness washed over as she saw the wave of red banners to showcase the Third Reich’s takeover of the city. It was a somber scene, as she saw the Frenchmen and women walking and trying their best to ignore the bolts of red fabric that flapped in the breeze.

She grieved for the city as her steps brought her around to the back entrance and she slipped into the hospital, spotting Jacques ahead and standing in front of a door. When he spotted her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the supply room. “Webster gave me these to give to him, but I cannot deal with him anymore,” his dark eyes flashed with anger. “I pity your journey, il est tellement agaçant.”

He is so annoying.

She sighed as he placed the clothes into her arms and opened the door for her. She looked to see Bennett standing in his briefs and white tank top, unaffected by her stare; he was not embarrassed and his lips curled upwards. “Oh, love, I was just getting ready to see you,” his tone cheeky.

Vera grew red and walked towards him, pressing the clothes against his hard chest. “Change quickly,” she said. “We must hurry.” “What the fuck do call this outfit?” He scoffed, holding out the clothes. “This your revenge?” “This is what is available,” she hissed, setting down her bag and she began to unbutton her uniform.

He noticed immediately. “How does this work that as I dress, you undress?”

She did not answer and refused to make eye contact, her fingers fumbling to remove her dress. His eyes were unabashed as they washed over her figure in a slip, admiring the soft silk against her ivory skin. Her uniform slipped from her grasp and he was quick to bend down and pick it up for her, holding onto still even after her fingers grasped the fabric.

“I will take that,” she said, breaking the moment and folding the dress.

Vera turned to pull her change of clothes and she felt him press closer, but he did not touch her; his presence was enough to elicit another deep blush that rolled from her cheeks, to her neck and chest. “Do not forget the coat,” she said without facing him. “It will be chilly.”

She could hear him move and the bustle of fabric as he began to dress. “Coat’s fine and all, but won’t you’ll be there to keep me warm?”

Vera grit her teeth, “Bennett–”

“It’s Tom.”

She turned to face him, fastening the last button of her plain blouse, and saw him watching her. The pants were a size too big and hung at his narrow waist, his shirt a mint green that he had yet to button up; she saw his defined chest peeking beneath the white tank he wore. Tom watched her for a reaction, waiting for her to acknowledge what he said, while Vera struggled to find her tongue.

“I am not kraut,” she finally spoke. “My name is Vera.”

His signature grin returned. “It’s a very lovely name.”

She focused to pull her knitted skirt on, her hand reaching behind to fasten it and she heard him step forward. “May I?” He leaned forward to peer at her and she gave a small nod. His breath tickled the back of her neck and shoulders as his hands pinched the top and he was slow to bring up the zipper. When he was done, she turned to face him and saw his brow scrunch with the same concern, bringing his hand to gently touch her chin. “The bruising has gotten darker. Do you have any powder?”

Her head tilted at his question and he gave a short laugh. “Before you thinking me a puff, I have a sister,” he explained. “I know things.”

“I do not have any makeup left,” she confessed.

“Makes sense,” his grin returned. “Pretty girls like you don’t require much, do they?” He seemed pleased with the new shade of red to her cheeks. Tom clipped his suspenders to his pants and gave a slight grimace when he pulled the one up his left shoulder. “All right, what’s the plan, Vera?”

She grabbed her knapsack and pulled the sleeve of his coat to follow her. They made a roundabout way towards the main lobby and began to descend the staircase. Ahead, she spotted Lyam with his same cheerful disposition and still using the cane. “Did you not heal?” She blurted and he laughed.

“Miss Vera, your demeanor remains the same,” he smiled beneath his silver beard, his eyes looking over them both. “The cane has them assuming I am no threat, so I have chosen to keep this accessory.” He then reached into his pea coat to retrieve two gold bands and held them, palm up. “Webster mentioned it was a couple, so we will use this to avoid bringing any attention to us as we move. Put these on.”

She looked skeptical. “What plan is this?”

Lyam tsked and his ice blue eyes sparkled. “Where is your sense? Act like lovers, it will make it less likely to attract any unwanted attention.”

Tom raised an eyebrow as he slipped on his band, taking the other one and reaching for her hand. “May I, Mrs. Bennett?” His tone teased Vera.

“Tom Bennett is dead,” her reply was dry, earning another good natured chuckle from Lyam.

“Only by name, but you’re my missus either way,” Tom slipped the ring onto her finger and when she tried to pull back, he held his grip and brought her knuckles to his lips.

She choked on a response and Lyam smiled with his words, “I see why you refused to leave the hospital.” And he continued before she could correct him. “Right now, I am your father-in-law and you two will play husband and wife. We will make our way through the city and stop in Massy for the rest of the night, continuing early the next day.” “On foot?” Tom asked.

“We have no other option,” he tapped his cane. “You’re young, you’ll be fine.”

Lyam pushed open the door and the evening crisp air breezed through; he stepped to walk out on the cobblestone streets that line Paris. “C’mon,” Tom said to her, holding his palm out. “You heard the man.”

Her fingers curled around his own and she liked the warmth of his palm. His arm stiffened to bring her closer to his side, turning his head to whisper in her ear, “I won’t bite you,” and with a devilish grin added, “unless you be wanting me too.”

“Tom–” her tone was warning, but she could not hide her smile in time.

He had missed it, his eyes focused on what was ahead of them. “No, love,” he reached to touch the back of her head, tucking her face into the nape of his neck and placed a phantom kiss on her cheek.

She could smell the soap on his skin and how it complimented his natural musk, but the sound of booted footsteps pulled her away. She shifted her focus on the idle conversation being held by the passing soldiers, relieved to know they had not been noticed. “I didn’t want them thinking I did this to you,” he said in her ear before she pulled back. Vera peered at him and he gestured to her jawline.

She shook her head. “You would not do that,” she said with a factual tone and he looked at her. “Unless I be wanting you too.” She finished, mocking his accent.

A grin spread until the dimples peaked on his cheeks. “You know, Vera, you are actually funny.”

She smirked and kept with his pace, ignoring the soft chuckle of Lyam ahead of them. They were fortunate to not cross any more soldiers, but she held onto his hand, lacing her fingers between his own and he ran his thumb along the back of her hand as they walked. Lyam guided them to avoid major streets and which allowed them to enjoy the dusk that rolled over the quieter parts of Paris, the man made lights flickering on to give the city a warm glow.

Their steps led them to a residence where a smiling woman answered and gave a kiss to Lyam. She welcomed them inside, her exchange only in French, and Lyam turned to them to translate. “Your room is down the hall, to the left and the toilette across from it,” he smiled at them. “Sleep well, for tomorrow is a big walk,” and he gave them a time to meet for breakfast.

The room was plain, but cozy, and Vera noticed right away that there was just the one bed, along with a dresser and a small vanity with a velvet stool tucked beneath. She felt Tom lean onto her shoulder. “This works since we’re married and all.” She looked at him to see his same cheeky smile splayed on his face.

“You can clean up first,” she said, stepping inside the room and setting her knapsack down on the bed.

He stepped backwards, his hands grabbed onto the doorframe and he leaned forward to offer, “Sure you don’t wish to join me?” He was quick to duck out as she grabbed and chucked a decorative pillow from the bed towards him, but he had already closed the door.

He is insufferable, she thought, her cheeks still red from his invitation. He is arrogant and cocky… but he was willing to attempt this route and give hope for the other prisoners in the hospital beds. Her mind fluttered to his gentle touch from when he tucked her into his shoulder and his words, I didn’t want them thinking I did this to you. Despite his arrogance, he had moments of genuine kindness, as opposed to his usual bravado.

With a sigh, she stepped towards the vanity and began to remove the few pins for her hair, allowing her dark curls to spill on her shoulders. She wondered if the doctor had pushed Tom to agree to this, as part of his American humor. It does not matter why he came along, she decided. Vera knew she must remain focused on the task at hand, something she would repeat as many times as she was able.

“It’s all yours, love.”

Vera turned to see him shirtless and towel drying his locks, a slight curl to the usual wave. She pressed her clean undergarments to her chest and walked past him, closing the door and seeing her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her complexion flushed yet again.

She was quick to shower and was standing in the small bathroom wearing just her undergarments. She had not thought to bring a nightdress along and, for a moment, debated to walk back into the room and grab her silk slip. He would still see you, she thought. Does war really demand modesty? With an exhale, she pushed the door open and was relieved to see him lying on the bed, already asleep.

Her bare feet padded the hardwood floors as she crept to put away her items and reached to retrieve her journal, hunched over the dresser to notate the route taken. She then took care to lower herself onto the mattress; the bedframe creaked but he slept soundly, his damp locks clinging to his forehead. She laid on her side to face him, her arm curled beneath her head, and watched Tom as he slept, his steady breathing lulling her to sleep.

It felt like her eyes were closed for a moment when she felt a slight jerk. The room was much darker, but the moonlight poured through the windows to highlight the room; she looked to see Tom, his fists balled at his sides and his jaw clenched, ticking as the muscles jumped, with beads of sweat on his forehead.

A night terror, she realized and pushed herself up, reaching to lay her hand on his chest, her other hand gentle to touch his grip. “Tom, Tom,” her voice was soft, repeating his name. “Tom, wake up, you are okay.” She was able to bring his palm to rest on her chest, her other hand feeling his accelerated heart rate.

With a sharp exhale, his eyes opened wide, flitting around to see her hand pressed to his heart and noticing she held onto his other hand; under his palm, he could feel her heart fluttering with her deep breaths. “W-what,” he struggled for the word.

Her voice was kind. “You had a nightmare.”

He looked pale, but forced a performative smirk. “Christ,” he began, trying to steady his tone. “I am becoming crazy like my dad.”

“Did he serve?”

��Yeah,” he scoffed. “In the last ‘great war.’ Now he’s a pacifist, rallying men to see the error of violent resolutions.”

“It’s okay–” she tried, but he ripped his hand from her hold.

“I’m not looking for pity,” his eyes darkened.

“I was not implying that you were,” Vera returned. “My dad had night terrors that would wake up the household. Sometimes my mutter would try and wake him, but she…” she stopped, unwilling to bring to light the fault within her own family. “I found he responded well to his name being repeated and me holding his hand. I had thought… you needed to feel something real?”

“Like a heartbeat?” He asked, his brow raised.

It sounded stupid spoken out loud, so she remained quiet.

He pushed himself up, resting his back against the headboard and his free hand raked through his locks. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “I… sometimes have dreams that I am back onboard the Exeter, but I am not as lucky as I had been originally.”

“He was the same,” Vera said, pushing to cross her legs beneath her. “He called it ‘survivor’s guilt’ but he carried it with him everywhere.” She paused. “How are you feeling now? I could go get you some water–”

His hand reached to grasp onto her forearm, keeping her from leaving the mattress. “I would prefer it if you stayed,” his eyes only then roamed and noticed what she was wearing, their realization simultaneous. “Missus, you can hardly just leave dressed like this anyway-”

“I would have put on clothes!” She snapped, trying to pull away. “Forgive my ill planning and forgetting mein nachthemd.”

“Don’t regress to the Motherland tongue just cause you’re embarrassed,” he grinned in return. “But go ahead and stand, so I can appreciate the view more.”

Her face burned and instead she pulled at the sheets to crawl back underneath, the billow from her exaggerated coverup blocked her view of him, but when the sheet settled around her form, Tom shifted on his side and his hand reached to touch her jaw. “Tom, what are you–” and he closed the space, allowing his mouth to find hers and cut off her question with his gentle kiss.

His lips were warm and Tom took his time, his fingers curled into her hair and gripped the back of her neck, pressing his body on top of her own. Her hands touched his chest, his other hand gripped the soft flesh of her hip as he opened his mouth to deepen their kiss.

She was breathless as he moved to her jaw, kissing her neck, goosebumps rippling over her body from his touch. “Tom,” she gasped for breath. “Wait, what is happening?” “I don’t know what you call it, but we call it a kiss,” he replied with a devilish grin, nuzzling into her neck. “You were helping me feel something real…”

“No, I did not mean for-”

Tom stopped all together, sensing her sudden hesitation. “Christ, I would never force myself on anyone,” and he fell back into his pillow, his arm up and under his head. “What happened? Were you raped?”

She pulled away, creating space between them. “You… have a foul mouth,” she snapped and he only shrugged in agreement. Vera fell back to the pillow and rolled to face away, curling beneath the sheets and shutting her eyes to sleep.

----

previous | Chapter 4

#tom bennett #tom bennett x ofc #we need more tom bennett fanfic #world on fire #ao3 #thanks for reading #fanfiction #♥#dancing in the dark

89 notes · View notes