#[ self / she is beauty ; grace ; and will punch you in the face ]

[lxckheart]

@busterswrd

A tip for Tifa 💰🍷 || (Extra)

[lxckheart]

Hello to the small number of you that has followed me. Down below is your tag drop and I'll get to re-blogging some memes.

[spoilante]

V2: TAGS, PT 3.

[lxckheart]

@busterswrd

Thank you

[heluvschibi]

𝙸 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝙻𝙾𝚂𝚃

❦Cussing, Death(tell me if I missed anything, if not read at your own risk??)❦

❦I still have a bit of the writers block❦ not proofread or edited

"She always hated that number because it sounded like death in Chinese" Wrd count: 2.1k next>> m.list to series

Picture day was soon, she loves picture day. Ever since I've known her—which is like for 10 years— she always was super excited for picture day, I even ended up spending $20 on this hair clip I thought she would like, which she did. She ended up wearing it for her picture. But what she wasn't excited about was the grade reports, each year a report of our grades gets sent to our parents via letter, and well... her's aren't that well.

"Min, thank you for this! It's so cute!" She practically squealed as we walked down the hallway towards the open doors of the cafeteria.

"Your welcome, it was no big d-" "Oh gosh you must've spend so much money on this too!" She interrupted me grabbing my arm and tossing me around like a rag doll, "I'm so sorry you spend so much money on me!" I looked around and saw other looking before putting my hand over her mouth.

"Calm down." I looked her in the eye and let go after she nodded.

"I will cherish this for the rest of my life."

When we got to the crowded lunch room, we managed to get in line, "Gosh these people are like animals..."

She laughed, "Don't act like you didn't just say you'll punch a guy if he cut in front of you."

"Those were on different circumstances."

She rolled her eyes facing forward, "Yeah, alright buddy."

After a few moments of silence it was broken by me "Are you ready?" I smirked ready for her reaction.

"For what? Seeing my beautiful face grace your eyes when years books are out?"

"No for the grade reports."

And it's like all the color from her face drained, like her soul flew out her body, she let out a groan, "No, my parents are going to kill me. My grades are so bad...gosh."

⏤͟͟͞͞✧✦

We ended up staying a bit longer after at school, she lost her hair clip and made this whole big deal out of it, she cried to me after her drawing period was over how it just disappeared out of her hair. Did we find it.... Yes but it was broken, the pink charm on the hair clip was broken off. She was sad about that but probably sad about the call she got from her dad screaming at her over the phone about her grades, a few "Your useless." "Your stupid." And a few more things were thrown in there by her father, she didn't really have the best relationship with him, well more of he didn't have a good relationship with her, she always tries her best and her father just shuts her down. I've witnessed them fighting once, him calling her useless, a mistake, that he wished he had a son not a useless daughter. But no matter what she's always happy.

She was now walking beside me holding the clip in her hands as tears streams down her face, "It's all my fault..."

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and looked down at her, "No it's not, don't put your self down like that."

She shook her head no, "Everything messing up is my fault, I-I can't do anything right."

I stopped walking grabbing her shoulder to make her stop, she turned to look at me, her cheeks and nose were red from the cold, she didn't bother to put on a scarf before leaving her house, she usually forgets.

"Min, it's my fault I lost it, a-and it's my fault it's broke..." She sniffled looking down.

"No it's not, everyone loses things sometimes, and breaks some things, there is no need to tear your self down because the universe had other plans today for you."

She looked up at me, her eyes were still filled with her tears that hadn't fallen yet. I reached out and wipes her face of the streaks of tears that were left behind.

"I'll buy you another one..." I whispered with a smile. She smiled up at me, her eyes wide and happy yet, they still seemed so sad.

"It's fine you don't have to."

"I want to."

⏤͟͟͞͞✧✦

A week later she seemed different, I was saving up money to buy her the hair clip so I hadn't bought it for her yet, I thought she was sad about that but it wasn't.

"So... Your not sad about the hair clip?"

"I'm not sad at all! It's just, today is a slow day for me."

Slow?

"Ah, okay."

She nodded her head, bringing the spoon full of soup up to her lips before sipping it.

"After school do you wanna-"

"I'm busy, sorry Min." She looked over at me and gave me an apologetic pout.

"Why, are you spending time with your family?"

She shrugged, "Yeah, I am."

"Well I'm proud of you for that," I put my hand on her shoulder, "You need to get closer to them before it's to late."

It's almost like she froze, I felt her shoulders tense up, "Are you okay?" I asked worried, a line forming between my brows from my frown.

"What do you mean by 'before it's to late'?"

"You know what I mean, before we leave off to college... Your going to college right?"

Then I felt her shoulders untense, weird...

"Uh, I don't like saying things I can't promise." She looked at me and gave me a tight lip smile.

⏤͟͟͞͞✧✦

A week later, after some hard work at school and my job I managed to get paid, just enough to buy the hair clip, I bought the exact same one, a pink heart with a kitty paw charm.

I put it in a small wrapped box and sat it on my bedside table for Friday.

When the morning sun creeped into my room, I sat up feeling something heavy on my stomach, I opened my eyes to see one of the many cats, "Soonie, good morning." I rubbed Soonie's head before moving causing Soonie to move and curl into a ball on my bed.

Today was a normal day. Like always, get ready for school, text y/n a good morning text and a picture of the cats, eat breakfast, and leave. But it wasn't different at home, but at school, when I first realized I didn't get a morning text back, I would understand if her phone had died, or if she forgot it, because yet again she is forgetful, but when I got to home room, she wasn't there.

"Maybe she's late." I mumbled to myself, sitting at our seat, alone, the chair empty, cold..."She would text me if she wasn't going to come or late, right?"

She never came, for two whole weeks she didn't come back, until one now abnormal the tv was on, breaking news. I never really bothered with the news unless the sky looked gloomy and cloudy, but my world has been gloomy and cloudy for the past weeks cause y/n never showed up.

My heart dropped to my stomach when I heard what the news reporter had said, I was already at the door sliding on my last shoe when—"17 year old high school student found dead this morning, floating in the river, officials say by how the body looks it's must've been here for a long time."—I broke my neck to look at the tv and it was none other than y/n, her recent school photo was shown on the screen before it switched to a video of them bagging the body.

I started at the screen in shock, there is no way, that can't be, it shouldn't be.

I felt my legs start to give out, my friend of 10 year, died...was it Suicide? Murder? That can't be, this has to be fake, I pulled out my phone and called her, which it went straight to voice mail, her happy voice telling me to leave a message cause she couldn't pick up her phone, I called it again, and again. There's no way. I cried, I let out a shout, scaring the cats, "This can't be happening!" I sobbed, my face a mess, its like apart of me just disappeared. I shook, realizing that she is dead, she won't come back, ever...

"Fuck! No, don't leave me... Please...."

My vision was blurred by my endless tears, I picked up my phone to call her, to try and call her, one last time, to at least hear her voice.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the phone but you can def leave me a message! Or call again??"

I clenched my phone, holding it up to toss it but stopping, pulling up my legs and crying.

⏤͟͟͞͞✧✦

It's like the whole world was affected from this news, more of my world was. Everything was static, radio silent. When they found her body it rained for 4 days straight, ironic isn't it, she always hated the number because it sounded like death in Chinese.

I still felt numb, my parents would bring me with them to y/n's house to pay our respects to her family, her mother who seemed deeply wounded by their only child now dead, but her father... That bastard had the same hard look, like he didn't care, I knew that her and her fathers relationship wasn't always tip top, but your daughter just died not even 2 days ago, and you couldn't bother to at least show a bit a humanity, a bit sorry for your wife and yourself.

Her mother invited me back to her room, her mom cleaned her room but kept it the, I saw on her desk was the broken hair clip, I pulled out the one I had bought and left it next to the broken one, when I saw her wall full of pictures of her, me, our friends. I couldn't hold it in, I broke down, "I can't believe she's gone."

Her mom hugged me, "I know, I know it hurts so much." She cried along with me.

Her room that usually is warm and welcoming is cold.

⏤͟͟͞͞✧✦

2 days later they located her shoes with a note in them.

"I'm sorry I didn't stay longer in this life, the world will keep spinning without me, at least that's what someone told me. The police will probably overlook this and say it's just another troubled teen, and I understand if they do. I'm sorry mom, I know I said after my walk I'll be home to clean my messy room, I'm sorry for making you work so hard for me just to end up like a failure. Minho, my best friend of 10 years, I'm sorry I left you, thank you for the hair clip, it will be with me for the rest of my life, didn't I say that? In my afterlife I'll be wearing it, I'll visit you every day! To my other friends I'm sorry we never got to pull that all nighter while watching a movie, in my next life I'll do it. I'm sorry to Minho's parents for making you worry about me, you were like my second family. And I'm sorry Dad that you think I'm just a waste of space, now there is extra space you can now replace with things you loved. I'm sorry to everyone."

I scrolled through the online article reading her goodbye note, my phone wet because of my tears, but I couldn't just over look it... Her father, it had to be her dads fault, calling her a waste of space, that's not love...

Now and forever my world will be gloomy, I lost my best friend, my first love...

⏤͟͟͞͞✧✦

Another morning I wake alone, I get ready to go to school, I texted her a good morning, and ate breakfast, the news still covers her death, a reminded that when I get to school I'll be alone through the day.

I stood up from the chair when I heard a knock at the door, no one ever knocks at the door unless its her, but she's not here anymore.

I passed it as my head playing tricks on me, because it's been doing that for the past month, I hear her call my name, I smell her, I see glimpses of her, I was going crazy.

Then the knocking got louder.

I sighed and walked to the door opening it, "Hello-"

"Gosh Min hurry up were going to be late!"

I looked at her, pure shock the color draining from my face, she... Y/n, she was standing there wearing the hair clip.

"U-uh..."

"Take a picture it would last longer..." she frowned.

"Y-you..."

She then started laughing, "Gosh, it looks like you've seen a ghost?"

"You are the ghost..."

[i-dont-know-nor-care-go-away]

St:SNW rant

I just saw the most amazing gifset of that moment in momento mori where chapel tells una "it's like giving birth through your mouth" (edit : it was @startrekuniverse who made the dope gif set, I love you btw)

Una and Christine are the MOST UNDERRATED dynamic. Genuinely I need to see them interact more. I've said before I don't think that T'pring is Christine's character mirror foil or whatever bc she isn't really. Una is the opposite of Christine.

Una is so put together. She is the literal poster person of first officers. She is always put together and just radiates dignity. (Somehow she gives like. Teacher vibes but I can't see her teaching a specific subject?? Maybe she just authority-s so hard I'm getting confused idk) She has been trying to be the picture perfect officer for years. She said it her self, she worries how people would see her (as an illiyern(fuck spelling I'm tired)) if she wasn't Ms. "She's beauty she's grace she's gonna punch you in the face" Because she hasn't ever had the chance to exist in starfleet without that threat of being discovered, she holds her self to this impossible standard that she some how achieves. Outside of that, she is a silly little workaholic who loves her job a little too much at times. (I mean. Tbf it's STARFLEET I'd also love it)

Compare that polished, put together-Ness of a first officer to someone who didn't even technically join starfleet, Chrsitine is part of an exchange program. (I'm only considering snw, sorry) Christine is bouncy and open as soon as we meet her, she sasses back at La'an and jokingly flirts with spock. She has the worst bedside manner and loves to chase people down hallways. Her reaction to Una bring Illiriyan was basically "I'm not a cop, I'm cool with it" She radiates weird girl in the best way possible. We see her be messy in relationships and goof off here and there. (Can you tell I hyperfixate on her all the time?) Uhura is "unburdened by conversational boundaries" and will say things on accident, Christine will say the weird thing and she will say it with her chest.

Christine is so unabashedly herself while Una is always on duty as the first officer, so professional. Una ties a lot of herself to her job and Christine loves science to the point she will chase it to other planets, she isn't tied to the ship.

There is so much space for tension and conflict between them. I can see Christine making a joke during a hard time and Una snaps. Maybe Una makes a tough call command wise that Christine disagrees with because they could've done something, the head vs the heart. They would also make an excellent team, Una with her tactical experience while Christine has science and leaps of faith.

You know those videos where the magnets are on a track and they collide really hard and the thing in the middle gets fucked up? That's what I want with them. I know im seeing the shrimp dynamics but I swear something there is worth exploring I SWEAR

[sketch-guardian]

IMAGINE THE ANGEL STUDENTS WITH A MONSTERFUCKER MC (I don’t know if that’s the right word, this isn’t meant to be nsfw! But I’m talking about people who really like non humans and think they’re adorable and love everyone no matter their species! So sorry if that’s the wrong word, I don’t really interact with a lot of fanfics out of platonic child reader ones!!) AND LIKE MC WANTS TO GIVE THEM A LITTLE KISS WHILE THEYRE IN THEIR BIBLICALLY ACCURATE FORM, ESPECIALLY IF ANY OF THEM ARE INSECURE ABOUT IT, LIKE LITTLE REASSURANCE KISSES WHILE MC SAYS THEYRE BEAUTIFUL EVEN WITH THEIR SCARY APPEARANCE (SO SORRY IF THIS REQUEST MAKES YOU UNCOMFY, I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT.)

Don't worry, I understood what you meant☺so for this occasion, to make it clear that these headcanons are SFW, we'll use the term "monsterlover"✨(I like monsters, demons, angels, aliens and robots as well, so perhaps I can consider myself a monsterlover🤣). Also aw, it sounds like such a tender scenario💜I'll try to do my best with the headcanons💖(I should draw the New exchange students' true celestial forms sooner or later🤔but it's hard to find some free time to both draw and answer asks😖perhaps I should close the askbox for a few days in order to start the sketches, would that be okay?🙈):

"NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A MONSTERLOVER MC DOTING ON THEM IN THEIR TRUE CELESTIAL FORM"

REMIEL

Remiel's true celestial form, as the Archangel of Hope, is quite intimidating to behold, in all its fearsome glory, it's quite majestic, standing around four meters tall, with her face completely obscured by a hood, a void filled with eyes, no mouth, with tufts of hair coming out from the shadows. Remiel, in that celestial form, wouldn't have legs, only torso and arms, instead of the lower limbs, black smoke would be visible from the bottom of her black robe. Remiel's torso would be open, resembling an exposed ribcage, with a bright silver spark inside, shimmering as if to represent hope amidst darkness. Remiel would have eight wings and hands with pointed talons, her weapon would also be a long scythe with a blade at both ends of the staff. Remiel wouldn't be able to speak in her Archangel form, she would only make otherworldly noises. The angel of death would be hesitant to show her true celestial form to MC, after all she would only use it for matters of life and death, she would know that for the human mind, her sight could be overwhelming to manage, however with some kind encouragement from MC, Remiel would change into her true celestial form, towering over MC, terrifying as ever, however her baby blue eyes would be innocent as always, showing she's still in there. Remiel would have to hold MC in her hands for them to reach her and, not being able to kiss, MC would stroke her wings or hair, to reassure her they aren't afraid, while Remiel would respond with a soft guttural noise, sounding almost like a whale, it would be her attempt to communicate her relief and fondness

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel in his true celestial form as the embodiment of Patience, becomes about two meters tall, with still six wings on his back and six arms floating, very thin pointed legs, arrows of blue light floating around him, slightly longer hair and a large mask covering half of Nathaniel's upper face, mostly hiding his several eyes. Nathaniel's weapon in that form is a bow and his form would be graceful, yet he would be able to land deadly punches with his six arms. Nathaniel would prefer not to show himself in his true celestial form, because usually he only transforms when he snaps, which is rare, it would be a bit difficult for Nathaniel to show his true self at will, however with a little insistence, he would sigh and warn MC not to be afraid, because while he might turn into a creature they might do not expect, it would still be him. Nathaniel, in his true celestial form, would cautiously lean closer to MC and nuzzle them, returning their caresses with his several arms, a little surprised by their lack of fear, but also relieved to be accepted for who he really is. Nathaniel's voice in his true celestial form would be more boomy and whispery

URIEL

Uriel's true celestial form as the embodiment of Justice would be rather powerful, buff and bulky, about three and a half meters tall, with jaws similar to those of a lion and half of her face covered by a helmet, obscuring her eyes, she would also have four muscular arms and four rather large thick wings. Uriel's armor would be even sturdier, her sword too and her hair would be longer and thicker, almost as a bright mane. Uriel isn't ashamed of her true celestial form, however she would suspect it could overwhelm MC and therefore she would ask MC if they're truly sure they want to come face to face with such a majestic being, there is a reason why angels say not to be afraid when they show themselves after all. After some convincing, Uriel would transform into her true celestial form and hesitantly lean towards MC, allowing herself to be examined by their hands, she would greatly appreciate their kisses and praises, basking in their affection and trying to cradle MC with caution, as if they were made of glass. Uriel needed to be careful in order to control her strength in her celestial form. The demonstration should happen, as in others' cases, in a fairly open environment, because Uriel's weight and size would risk accidentally breaking something

[lxckheart]

@strifeblade

FINAL FANTASY VII: REMAKE (2020)

[pencilofawesomeness]

Some Fairy Tail x Twisted Wonderland stuff

because I can merge my current media fixations if I want to.

I started thinking about which dorms the Fairy Tail peeps would be in, for the funsies, and then I thought more about it and then it spiraled into me actually drawing it. I have more ideas, too, but I limited it to one each. For now. 

Anyway have some of my thoughts, because I have nothing else to do with them. I have more, of course, but here’s a bit:

Erza: Heartslabyl [Housewarden; fae] —very much believes that rules are important, but in a chaotic way —forgets other people don’t think the way she does —easily stuck in her ways —passionate; can be very emotive —very dedicated to ✨ special interest ✨ (swords, armor, etc)

Natsu: Savanaclaw [dragon-fae] —feral gremlin child; can be pugnacious, but also pretty chill —stubborn but not particularly ambitious —doesn’t rely on anybody, necessarily, but also is very group-orientated —protective of friends pack —very emotive but allergic to being openly vulnerable —depending on backstory, has other people trying to dictate his future

Lucy: Octavinelle [human] —doesn’t like not having any control in a situation —pursues personal ambitions / personal happiness —likes ✨ contracts  ✨  —not above being sneaky, but keeps her word —collects keys friends etc

Gray: Scarabia [human] —allergic to failure —poor natural teamwork skills (used to doing things alone) —will throw away morality for success’ sake —self-esteem is an unstable pendulum —dabbles in scheming

Juvia: Pomefiore [merfolk] —cares about what other people think of her —will alter herself to fit in, even to her own detriment —very, very tenacious when she gets focused on something —she is beauty, she is grace, she will punch you in the face

Mystogan: Ignihyde [Housewarden; human] —anti-social is his middle name —dedicated to a job he did not want (cleaning up father’s mess, etc.) —really good with items and gadgets —just wants to do his own thing if he ever gets a break —life goals? nonexistent 

Freed: Diasomnia [half-human, half-fae] —likes to swear his loyalty to his peers; dedication to group —weird af has a certain decorum he upholds —magic is easier than a normal social life —confident in his abilities but not in how he is perceived —concerned about his sense of belonging

[sehtoast]

Remember Me (Homelander x OC)

2.7k | memory loss, drunk homelander, mild angst, slight starlight appearance, new first kiss, spidersona oc | Fic Directory

Original Request: Forgotten hl x Ben. Ben loses his memory and doesn't remember hl.

If there was a form of torture to be found in the entire world that could truly hurt him, it was this.

Watching the love of his life, the star in his sky, the pulse in his very veins run around without a care in the world for him.  See, his little Benjamin suffered quite a blow to the head a while back.  That’s all it should’ve been. Just a bump on the head.  But, no.  No, the supe who hit him had to go ahead and hit him so fucking hard that he gave the bug amnesia of all things.

It was a knife in Homelander’s heart when those beautiful brown eyes looked at him without an ounce of recognition.  He was there when Ben woke, but he almost wished he wasn’t.

He circled the planet 30 times that day to keep from burning the world to ash.

Worse than all of that, though, was watching him change.  Sure, John tried to interact with his little spider and renew the spark, but it was impossible to do when the only thing he knew was the old Benjamin.  The one that loved him, that cared about him more than anything in the world.  This new  one was… just not the same, and Homelander didn’t know how to start at square one again.

The others did, however.  Especially Starlight, who seemingly seized the opportunity to tell Benjamin of every dirty deed he’d ever done.  Homelander knows because he’s heard it.  Lingered outside the wall of Benjamin’s suite and heard every word Starlight said about him, each over dramatized detail about how he was every fucking thing under the sun.  A murderer, a thief, a nazi-fucker, a tyrant– every goddamn insult she could possibly find.

She did it in such a clever way, too.  Wiggled her way into his life with her sickly sweet kindness, spent time with him, introduced him to Butcher and his band of supe-killing pieces of shit.  Ben had already been weirded out by his attempts to woo him once more, so it apparently wasn’t all that hard to convince him that his former lover was the devil incarnate.

Homelander had to watch as the love of his life began to conspire against him.  Had to see the look on his face as he listened to every accusation, every truth and half-truth, and it was the most agonizing experience he’s ever gone through.  Not even the torture of his childhood could cut this deep.

He’s never been one for attempting to drown his sorrows.  Normally, Homelander would go destroy something– maybe punch furiously through a glacier or launch himself into one side of a mountain and emerge from the other, but he felt truly and wholly weak.  Vought had been crafting an experimental alcohol that could intoxicate even the most powerful supes.  He never intended to be their first test subject.

Four and a half bottles of the stuff later and he was three sheets to the wind.  He stumbled through his penthouse for a time, snuggled up to Ben’s favorite also-forgotten blanket, ranted and raved with his other self in the mirror, and generally did all sorts of unbecoming things.  By the time he unscrewed the fifth bottle, he had managed to find enough courage to enter Benjamin’s apartment through the access panel he once used every day.

His normally graceful footsteps were anything but as he stumbled through the kitchen, back the hall, and into Benjamin’s bedroom.  The web-head had been sitting cross legged in bed and fiddling about on his laptop, and he certainly looked more than a little startled.  Homelander stood there for but a moment, staring, before breaking down into weak sobs.

“Miss you s’much!”  He sniffles, lip quivering.

Benjamin rose from the bed and approached him slowly, as if expecting a threat or violent act.

“Uhh… Homelander?  You okay?”  Ben asks carefully.  He’s unsure of how to handle the possibly nuclear situation that all but broken through his door, but he couldn’t just sit there.  “Hey, c’mon buddy, I got you.  Here, come sit down.”

Homelander lets the love of his life lead him to the desk chair he used to sit in regularly.  The thought makes him cry more.

“Can I have that?” Ben inquires with an outstretched hand.

Homelander forks over the bottle immediately.  He’d give his little spider the whole world if he asked for it.

The wall crawler reads the label for a moment before huffing a laugh.  “How many of these have you had?”

“Like four or seven. I dunno…” Homelander shrugs.

“That’s… a lot.” Ben declares.  He sets the bottle on the desk and spins the chair to face the bed, where he sits.  “Why so many?”

Homlander’s lip quivers again as he mulls over the possible answers.  His drunken mind can only muster one, though.

“I miss’ou s’much!”  He slurs in a way that would have his sober self feeling thoroughly humiliated.  “Y’were my world, but now I have no world ‘cuz you don’t like me anymore.”

Ben sighs softly.  This song and dance again… 

“For once I fuckin’ liked my life, but now you’re gone and I got nothin’ but your fuckin’ blankets to remember you by!”  Homelander lurches forward, startling the bug.  He presses his face to Ben’s thighs and cries against him.  “Meant everything t’me, please… Please come back!”

Ben can’t deny that there is a certain ache in his chest when he’s near Homelander.  But he doesn’t know  this man, only what he’s heard– which has not been good.  A part of him believes Homelander’s confessions, believes they really were an item, but he doesn’t know what to think of it.

He’s drawn away from his thoughts by Homelander’s knees hitting the ground with a heavy thud.  The god of the supes clings desperately to his dangling legs, crying his heart out.

He recalls Starlight’s words.  He always did have a soft spot for you.  We could use it to our advantage.

But that feels… wrong.

His hand smooths over the top of Homelander’s head and he swears the cries grow louder.

“Here, c’mon.”  Ben tugs at him to help him stand.  “Sit up here with me.  You don’t have to grovel, y’know?”  He directs Homelander to sit beside him.   Seeing the man with splotches of red on his tear stained face was certainly a huge difference compared to his usual cold, commanding expression.  Something about it made every cell in Benjamin’s body scream to give him a hug, so he did.

“What’s your name?”  The wall crawler asks.  “Like, your actual name.”

“J-John…”  Homelander sniffles.  “Y’used to call me–”

“Johnny?”  Ben doesn’t know if he was just able to assume that or if he somehow knew it, which is such an incredibly odd feeling. It wouldn't be the first thing he's known without actually knowing. 

Queue another lurching sob from his drunken visitor.

“Yeah!”  Homelander cries. He looks almost hopeful. 

“Look,”  the web-head moves away from him.  “I’m not… How do I wanna say this…”

John’s shoulders hunch as he prepares himself for disappointment. He should've known better… 

“I don’t know you.  But I guess I did– like, really well.  I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, but… I just don’t know you.”  He explains softly.  “But I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Homelander’s eyes light up with excitement.  Hope stirs in his core and he swears the alcohol practically leaves his system in one go.  He feels a little more alert, at least.

“So… why don’t you stay with me tonight.  We can watch some shitty movies and talk about things.  Hopefully you’ll sober up a bit and you’ll be okay to go home tomorrow.”

At that, Homelander gave a laugh.  “I live two floors above you, silly!”  Feeling happiness bubbling in his gut had become such a foreign feeling over the past few weeks.  He thought he’d never feel it again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ben laughs.  “But no supposed boyfriend of mine is gonna be allowed to drink and fly, so you’re stuck here till you’re good.”

By morning, Ben wakes to find Homelander curled against his side.  There’s an odd tranquility to it, and he even kind of likes it.  They decide to do it all over again the next night– sober, this time.  

And then the next night.

Two weeks go by and Benjamin finds himself elated to see Homelander every time.  He wonders how mad Annie must be with him, but ultimately can’t find it in his heart to care when he’s being flown around in those strong arms.  They touch down on top of the Queensboro Bridge– a location Homelander had described as one of their spots.  

They used to like to watch the sun set over the river, just as it was doing now.

“Pretty,” Ben lifts his mask and wears it more like a beanie.  Easier to bask in the beauty of the golden rays without the lenses.

“Sure is,” Homelander breathes, lips twitching into a smile when Benjamin catches him staring.  “Sun’s nice, too.”

“Psssh,” the bug giggles.  He chooses to recline on the rusty platform and Homelander follows.  Below, they hear the honks and insults of an instance of road rage.  They share a laugh and it all feels so familiar. 

Ben turns on his side to face Homelander.

“You’re not like everyone says, y’know.”  He declares softly.  Before Homelander can ask, he’s already elaborating.  “You’re sweet.  You're a hard ass with the team and you torture Ashley a bit too much, but you’re a good guy underneath all that badness.”

“Yeah, right.” John rolls his eyes.  “I’m actually evil, don’tcha know?”  He didn’t mean for that to sound as dejected as it did.

“Mm, well, I’ve always had a thing for bad boys,” Ben smiles sweetly.  “Especially ones with blonde hair.”

“It’s not naturally blonde.” John retorts, though he’s more than pleased when a gloveless hand rakes through his locks.  He didn’t even notice Ben taking it off.

“Still nice.” Benjamin replies, giving a gentle tug.  He scoots in a little closer, propping himself onto his elbow to lean just slightly over him.  

Homelander stares up at him with soft, doe-like eyes.  It practically makes him melt.

“I’m glad you got drunk that night.” Benjamin confesses. He can see the embarrassment flicker in Homelander’s eyes, but he only smiles wider.  “No, really.  You– I dunno if we’d have ended up spending time together if you hadn't just barged in like that. God knows I'm too nervous to ever make the first move.  But, I’m really glad you did.”

He traces the faint lines on John’s forehead with his forefinger.  As he trails it lower, he can see those beautiful blues dilate.  A tinge of red blooms in John’s cheeks.

“Cute when you blush…” Benjamin grins.  They still hadn’t done more than this.  Just laying next to each other, sharing mostly innocent touches. Not even a single fucking kiss. The sound of leather creaking preludes a bare palm resting on the back of his neck, and Ben swears the touch alone sends a shiver down his spine.

Homelander bites back every impulse to lean up and kiss his little spider like his life depends on it.  He’s fucking petrified of scaring him away, of losing what little progress he’s made.  So many times now he could’ve had him.  Could’ve swooped the boy off his feet and into bed if he’d just had the goddamn audacity to take what he wanted.  

But he was so afraid of driving him away.   He can’t lose him twice.  

He can’t.

So he shuts his eyes, sighs through his nose. Of course he was blushing like some sort of love struck fool.  That’s exactly what he is.

That finger brushes over his lips and he parts them on instinct.  It feels so good, so fucking good every time Benjamin touches him.  He aches for more, but he knows he must wait.  It’s why he doesn’t just dart his tongue out and suck that curious digit into his mouth. Ben has to want it too. 

“Sometimes I get flashes of things,” Ben tells him.  “The other night I remembered that you like this.”  

Homelander practically sings a moan when Ben dips his finger inside.

“You like milk, like… a lot.  You wear red briefs that always give you a little wedgie, but you don’t like wearing boxers– at least not in the suit.”  Benjamin begins, smiling fondly at him.  “You like pepperoni and bacon on your pizza, but you’d never admit it because you think it’s a bad look to even eat the stuff.”

He laves his tongue over Ben’s finger as he listens, staring up through clouded vision.  Had he really started to remember?  Such little things, but… maybe one day his precious Benjamin’s mind would be whole again.

“You think the funniest thing in the world is eating seafood in front of The Deep.”

With each musing of recalled memories, Benjamin leans a little closer until the only thing truly separating them is his own hand.

“We flew to a beach in New Zealand a few times. I got stung by a jellyfish that one time and you convinced me to actually let you pee on my leg!”  Ben laughs happily.  “Turns out it’s just a myth that pee helps the sting.”

Homelander chuckles at the memory, but tears up too.  His little spider was remembering.  Bit by bit, their life together was coming back.  Small things, but he’d take anything.

“We used to sit on the Chrysler Building a lot… I think I fed you ice cream up there once.”  Benjamin slips his finger free slowly, tracing it back over Homelander’s lower lip before cupping his cheek.  “We kissed for the first time on my couch…”

Even the slightest breeze would fucking knock their lips together.  John laid perfectly still, scared out of his mind that somehow the moment would be ruined if he so much as moved.  His lips parted and he fucking prayed.

“Much as I can't remember stuff about myself, I'm starting to remember you. And I really, really like you…” Ben breathed before finally closing the gap, sealing their new first kiss with a smile.  The bug felt fireworks explode in his body, tingling everywhere, searing his heart and mind with a fresh memory that felt so very old.

And Homelander… he’d be humiliated by the weak cry that shook him were he with anyone else.  He couldn’t help it.  The relief, the joy, the bliss– it was too much not to.  His head began to swim with every breath, every taste, and he could’ve sworn he was floating because–

Wait… He was. Just a little.

“Sorry,” he gasped against Ben’s lips, making the bug giggle that adorable sound that always sent a tingle straight to his heart.  “I got a bit–”

“I don’t mind,” Ben murmurs so sweetly.  The web-head plants the most tender kiss to his forehead before leaning back.  

It’s like seeing stars, the way those eyes sparkle above him.  It makes his heart feel fit to burst, like he could vibrate out of his skin from how happy he was. There was more than just a simple chance for them.  So much more.

“I don’t mind at all.”

From that moment on, he felt whole again– or, at least, as much as he ever truly could.  It took time, but Benjamin’s mind started to return.  Some things were still hazy, but he was there to fill in the blanks until the day came when he didn’t have to.   Eventually, it felt like nothing had ever gone wrong– save for Starlight’s attempts to woo his little spider over to the opposition’s side.

Homelander admittedly ended up taking an opportunity to roll Ben’s mask up a smidge and kiss him silly right in front of her, much to his little spider’s embarrassment. The look on Starlight’s face was fucking priceless, but that wasn’t the best part of it all.

The best of the best was waking up beside his little love bug every day.  When they would send their cute back and forth texts, spend their breaks together, eat dinner, relax, chase each other around the city– just… everything.  Every single thing they could possibly do together was the best part of it all.

Every second is a gift.

[invisibleraven]

I have to request kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose. for rulie ❤️

Also for @innytoes who requested the same prompt and pairing!

"You ready?"

"Not remotely."

"Hey," Reggie said, gathering her hands into his. "What's got you all worried?"

Julie worried her bottom lip, her voice uncharacteristically small. Totally not herself, the strong and self assured woman that Regige knew and loved. "What if they hate us? What if they boo?"

Reggie was tempted to laugh at that, but held back when he saw that Julie's expression was nothing but serious and he cursed everyone who had ever made her doubt herself. "Darlin', they won't. And if they do, I'll punch each and every one of them."

Julie let out a wet giggle at that. "You would never!"

Reggie shrugged, a ghost of a smile gracing his face. "Maybe not, but they're still gonna love us."

"How do you know?"

Reggie leaned down so he could meet the gaze of those gorgeous brown eyes he loved so much. "Because you, Julie Molina, are amazingly talented." He kissed the tip of her nose at that, making her giggle, and he decided to do it again-anything to hear that melodious laugh. "You have the voice of an angel." Another kiss, which made her scrunch her nose up adorably. "You wrote an amazing song," another kiss. "With the help of yours truly, of course." One more kiss, just because.

"Of course," she chuckled. And well, he had to kiss her again for that-he just did.

Reggie could have stopped then, seeing the light return to Julie's eyes, but he was so in love with her, that he couldn't help but go on. "You're also devastatingly beautiful." Another kiss, this time to the apple of her cheek. "Both inside and out." The other apple then, feeling the heat of her blush. "Funny. Smart. Kind. Brave."

Each compliment was punctuated with a kiss-her forehead, her chin, but mostly to her nose, just to make her laugh. Kiss kiss kiss. "How could anyone not love you?" he asked, and Julie wasn't able to give him an answer, fully overwhelmed by his love for her and belief in her.

"You're not so bad either mister," Julie said when he finally paused. "And while I could spend the rest of the night extolling your virtues, we have a show to do."

"Later?"

"You betcha."

Reggie beamed, pressing another kiss to her nose, but Julie caught his chin, pulling him down for a kiss-a real kiss-full of tenderness and passion all at once. They only came up for air when a PA announced one minute, blushing and smiling as they broke apart.

Reggie donned his hat, and handed Julie hers. She helped him sling on his banjo while he handled over her fiddle, clasping their hands together as the announcer's voice rang out.

"Ladies and gentlemen-Glitter Horses!"

The two of them played an amazing show, ending it with a kiss that brought the curtain-and the house-down.

[lxckheart]

@busterswrd

Picking flowers with Tifa 🌱

[chaosandcrimson]

no way is that SCARLETTE LEONG.. they're a 31-year-old SYNTH notoriously known for being PROUD & INDIGNANT but there are some people who have seen them being OPEN-MINDED & EVOCATIVE. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of the soothing sound of a camera shutter, making dumplings in the kitchen with your mother, and losing everything but finding yourself, but that could just be because they're considered the FALLEN PRINCESS around town. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through..

Don't treat me like some situation That needs to be handled I'm fine with my spite and my tears And my beers and my candles

OVERVIEW

Name: Scarlette Natalie Daisy Leong

FKA: Scarlette Natalie Daisy Vanderbilt

Nickname(s): Lettie

DOB: September 30, 2093

Age: 31

FC: Chloe Bennet

Height: 5'6"

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Occupation: Photojournalist / Content Creator / Social Media Manager for Citizen Uprising

Relationship Status: Engaged to Mariano 'Lui' de la Luna

[+] affectionate, open-minded, evocative [–] proud, indignant, sarcastic

BIOGRAPHY

tw: suicide

Scarlette Vanderbilt was her parents' little princess from the moment that she was made. At the time, her father was the CEO of Epsilon Labs, her mother was a socialite and stay-at-home mom, and she grew up living a very charmed and sheltered life in a beautiful house in the upper district.

She spent most of her childhood and tween years socialising with other children of various C-suite executives and board members of the Big Three—the Drakes, the Waleys, the Dasai-Shehadis, the Harkers, etc.

Everything changed when she was in her freshman year of high school. With a potential scandal threatening the company, Epsilon Labs needed a scapegoat to pin the entire blame on, and Scarlette's dad had made himself the perfect patsy by already being stupid and acting inappropriately in his position.

He was fired from the company and was on the verge of facing criminal charges when he decided that he couldn't take it anymore. It was unclear if what tipped him over the edge was the public spectacle, the stain on his personal reputation, or the fact that he was dragging his family down with him, but the end result was the same—one evening, Scarlette and her mother came home to find that he had ended his life. The media painted his suicide as an admission of guilt.

She was quickly ostracised by her peers. She tried to let the comments roll off her back, but one girl in particular got under her skin to the point that she lost her temper and punched her in the face, resulting in her immediate expulsion. Not that they could afford a private school in the upper district, anyway.

With no other options, her and her mom moved to the lower district and changed their name to Leong—her mom's maiden name—in an attempt to start over. Her mom took a job as a waitress at the all-night diner and Scarlette enrolled in the public high school. It was a hard adjustment at first, and she got off to a pretty rocky start with it, but she eventually found a solid group of friends.

Among them was a boy called Lui de la Luna. He teased her for being a bit of a princess, she teased him for not being nearly as graceful as she was on the ice, which meant that naturally, they wound up becoming high school sweethearts. They have been dating ever since and recently got engaged.

She set out to reinvent herself to escape her past, but what she discovered along the way was far better than merely a chance to start over—it was becoming a version of herself that she was actually really proud of being. Someone who is creative, compassionate, expressive, driven, and entirely self-made.

She had always been interested in art but developed a fondness for photography—in particular portrait photography. After graduating from high school, she was working at the diner when she started a side project shooting portraits of people around the lower district, posting them to social media along with profiles she had written about them and their lives, dreams, and aspirations (think Humans of New York). She had not planned for the account to blow up enough that she could make photography her full-time profession.

She is by no means wealthy, and she would not consider herself super famous, but she does have a respectable social media following and she makes enough money to be comfortable. The first thing that she bought once she started making it was a nice house in the middle district for her mom.

She is a vocal supporter of Citizen Uprising and volunteers for them by running their social media accounts (among other things). She has also posted profiles of any activists that were willing to be featured on her own account.

[rhetoricandlogic]

700 Pages of Pure Narrative Magic: Saint Death’s Daughter by C. S. E. Cooney

700 Pages of Pure Narrative Magic: Saint Death’s Daughter by C. S. E. Cooney

Martin Cahill

Tue Apr 26, 2022 3:00pm

Miscellaneous “Lanie,” Stones is a necromancer, the first one born to the infamous Stones family in ages. But there’s a condition: Lanie has a severe allergy to violence. So terrible is her condition that even the touch or presence of one who’s performed recent harm will cause an allergic reaction. And so, Lanie must be kept from her assassin mother and executioner father. Raised by the revenant Goody Graves, Lanie finds comfort in books and ghosts. As the novel begins, Lanie’s mother, father, and their aunt are dead—possibly murdered—she can’t raise them to ask what happened, and the family’s enormous debt has been called in right away.

And so begins Saint Death’s Daughter, debut novel by the World Fantasy Award-Winning writer, C. S. E. Cooney, truly one of the best books I’ll read this year; a novel about death that has entered my personal Top 10 for, well, life.

There’s only so much I can say about this feast of a book. The rest must be experienced, but I will do my best to convince you to pick up one of the best debut novels I’ve read in the last five years. C. S. E. Cooney is a writer with a one-of-a-kind voice, unafraid to go to extremes to illustrate a point, or lay bare the truth of a moment. The world of Liriat Proper comes alive with each frenetic swipe of her pen, painting in detail after detail with rich, evocative, beautiful language. Cooney is a writer who hears, “show, don’t tell,” and laughs in the face of such a tenet. “Show? Why I’ll show with the very best of them!” And she will, pointing out each and every facet of a character’s clothing, their facial tics, what their magic looks like to others but tastes like to them, the intricacies behind divine ritual and personal ritual, giving just as much importance to how someone takes their tea as how a god takes their worship. “And tell? Oh, how I’ll tell!” as she uses footnotes and in-world writing, storytelling and didactic lessons, every narrative device under the sun to enrich every corner of her world. By the end of the first hundred pages, Stones Manor and Liriat Proper will be just as real to you, dear reader, as the heartbeat under your skin and the marrow in your bones.

And while some novels can live off of this robust and layered and well-thought worldbuilding, Saint Death’s Daughter is even more replete with complex, contradictory characters of all makes and models with needs and wants that spark and fizz off of one another, creating clashes of magic, manner, and might. Cooney does not loose a single arrow from her quiver of characters that is fletched with drab, ordinary feathers, but rather, everyone she fires onto the page arrives in a burst: fully-realized, always finding their mark, dripping with detail and a fire in their heart. You will see, in a matter of sentences, how wonderfully human Cooney’s characters are: Mak, Lanie’s brother in law and ensnared falcon-warrior; Lanie’s dreadful, self-important sister, Aminita Stones, vicious and terrible, the mosaic of her heart off-kilter and missing a piece; Canon Lir, a fire-priest of the many-gendered god Sappacor, whose heart and grace and friendship they’ve given to Lanie ever since they were young. Cooney’s deft hand at those little details that brings a person or a golem or a ghost to inextricable life is on full display, page after page.

But this is the story of Saint Death’s daughter first and foremost, and it would not succeed if said daughter couldn’t carry the weight of her own story on her shoulders. I’m here to tell you that Miscellaneous Stones most certainly can. It is thrilling to watch her grow from an young allergy-riddled necromancer by navigating the demands of a ghostly ancestor withholding information, a royal who only wants to use her for her own gain, and a sister that sees her only as a punching bag. And as she grows older and life becomes more complicated, Lanie Stones does not balk at the challenges before her but, as she was raised, puts her nose to the grindstone—or into a book. Across almost 700 pages of pure narrative magic, and learning of the challenges facing the Stones family, the Brackenwild Royals, the threat of the Blackbird Bride, and more, the most joy I had was in watching Lanie Stones grow up, as a necromancer, an aunt, a sister-in-law, and a friend to those alive and dead. Cooney takes a classic bildungsroman, injects it with glitter, adrenaline, and un-death, and shows us every shade and joy that comes from that struggle toward adulthood and knowing yourself.

I could go on and on about Saint Death’s Daughter, the inimitable and breathtaking debut novel from C. S. E. Cooney, I really could. But you will be better served by reading it and exulting in the rich language, the beautiful narrative friction between people, magics, and nations, and letting Cooney reach out an ethereal hand to pull you into the world of Lanie Stones. Take her hand, reader, and journey into a world of stone, flame, birds, and yes, death. But death need not be scary. In the right hands—in Lanie’s hands and in the shadow of Saint Death herself—it can be as comforting as an embrace.

[lxckheart]

@strifeblade

UNDER THE HIGHWIND

@clotiweek Day 5

[deanhadwin]

we were too close to the stars  ✨

self-para

Emotions - one of the things Dean had a hard time dealing with, maybe it was because he started hiding what he felt since he was a teenager, but became so good at it even hid them from himself. Recently, he tried to fool himself he didn’t care about what was happening in Nightrest - paint it as it was bad for his business, hide away that he was actually scared to death what could happen at any moment. Scared someone else he cared about would fall victim to the freak who choose to play their own version of a God. 

He didn’t know how to help those around him, words were meaningless and he couldn’t snap his fingers to bring back who they lost, the only thing he could do to create an impact of any kind was throw his money around. Help rebuild the shattered community, though he made sure people saw it as nothing more but a boast of his net worth. 

He strayed away from the big crowds, intentionally or not he was observing. Watching like a hawk, fearful what happened at Rhee’s will happen again, fear that crawled up his spine that left him feeling uneasy. Though when his eyes caught those of Shadae’s, his people-watching ended, and the previous feelings were replaced with warmth - after all he still thought of her as the only thing he managed to do right, though he still found a way to fuck it up. He didn’t go to her at first, letting her talk to her friends as he did the same, but never stayed too far. 

Later in the night, and liquid courage in his system, he made his way to her. There were many things he wanted to say and if he didn’t do it now he didn’t know if he’d ever take that step. It was now or never. “Can we talk? Please? Meet me outside in thirty minutes,” he lingered in front of her for a bit, letting her see the pleading look on his face hoping it’d be enough to convince her before moving away.

He was pacing back and forth, constantly looking down at his watch while trying to piece together how to say what he wanted to say. Playing out every scenario of her reaction just hoping the starts were in his favor tonight. He was about to turn around and go find her when he heard the clinking of heels coming his way. He turned to face her, that one smile only reserved for her gracing his face. “You look beautiful,” he whispered when she stood in front of him.

“Shadae — there’s so many things I want to say.”

He reached for her hand, his thumb caressing the back of it. Memories of their relationship flooding his mind, picturing all the times he was the reason for her smile and how fucking good it made him feel. He even pictured all the fights, every back and forth, every time they found themselves entangled in one another after. The last fight that ended everything. A month ago when he went to her place and they kissed. Every little moment and he knew, right here and right now - he was in love with her, he’s always been in love with her and his hearth will always stay open only for her. 

“I know what we had was messy, I know as much as we loved each other we hurt each other just the same, but I — I can’t do this with anyone else. After we broke up I tried... you know, to move on even get in a relationship and I thought they didn’t work out, because it was just who I was, but no. It’s because of you Shadae, it’s because I’ll always love you and I want to have a life with you. Give me a chance baby and I swear I’ll make it right.” 

He chewed onto his bottom lip, his eyes darting between her eyes and lips. She meant the world to him and he was going to work hard every day and night to show her he meant it. He placed a hand on her cheek, slowly leaning in to capture her lips in hers when her scream sent him back in a jump only to turn and see someone coming at them with a knife. 

“Run! Get help!” he lightly pushed her back, turning around ready to fight like hell with every ounce of strength in him just to make sure Shadae could safely run back inside. He threw a punch in their direction successfully making impact with their jaw, only to be met with the same force making him stumble back. The alcohol might of given him courage to confess his feelings, but took away the ability to stand strong on his feet. With something resembling a roar Dean lunged at them, throwing them both to the ground. At first he didn’t feel it, but it didn’t take long to feel the throbbing pain in abdomen as he looked at knife, the only part visible being the handle. He stood up, stumbling as he rested his weight against the railing, moving his hand to reach for the weapon, but the assailant was faster them him. They retreated the knife and Dean cried out in pain his hand instinctively holding over the open wound. He turned to run toward the entrance, hoping people were already on their way, but the only thing he saw was Shadae frantically banging on the door trying to open it. He didn’t get far before he felt sharp pain in his shoulder, then his side and back. 

It was getting harder to breath and he could feel his aching body begin to give out as he fell to the ground. He was in so much agony he couldn’t feel as they stabbed him four more times. He knew he wasn’t going to make it, there was no way. He moved his head to look at her, use the last of his strength to tell her to jump in the water, the only way he thought she could save herself when he was met with something he never wanted to see, let alone imagine. Another person came through the door attacking Shadae. 

The only thing he could do was watch as the love of his life was fighting for her life. A tear ran down his face mixing with the blood falling from his mouth. He tried to move, maybe he’d do enough to distract them, but he was pinned down forced to watch the ugly scene before him. 

There were so many things he still wanted to do. He wanted to fix the strained relationship with his father, he even dared to wish he could say sorry to the many people he hurt one way or another, he wanted to have a second chance with Shadae, he wanted to grow old with her. But the only thing he could feel was all those wishes slowly fade as his eyes grew heavier. 

His bloodshot eyes locked with hers, he wished he’d gone out of his way to make her leave Nightrest with him, but now it was too late. “I love you.” he whispered before coughing up blood, his eyes closing and his life slipping away as the only thing he could hear was her voice.