#dearer than a friend

[mjulianwrites]

first line tag.

tagged by @encrucijada !!

opening line of next day after dawn: The moment after the world as he knew it ended, Helios Saturnini started to laugh.

opening line of dearer than a friend: I guess I should explain why I never wrote you that letter.

last line tag.

tagged by @encrucijada !!

what i last wrote for next day after dawn: Then he bent down and snorted both lines off the table, because he’d done more than a good night’s work.

(not including the last line for dearer than a friend, because that was the last line of the whole book! spoilers <3)

i'll tag @wren-is-writing @goose-books @xiaofiaan @i-think-strange-things @saltwaterbells and anyone else in the mood!

[itzmnne-3-111]

♡ “No… no, not dearer than you” ♡

Pt. 4!

“You know nothing about me, you’ve known me only three weeks!”

“Three weeks? Catherine I’ve known you all my life!”

“All your life?”

“It’s true, when I heard beautiful music I thought ‘she’d like that’. I looked at flowers knowing that one day I’d give them to you.”

Coming down and handing him some old clothes he’d left. A small thank you pushed past his lips you went back to the kitchen and looked in the fridge “you want anything to drink? Eat maybe” You could hear the smile on his lips as he stood up and said “I’d love something to eat hun. But where should I change?” You have him a soft smile “in my room or the bathrooms fine. And I trust you know where the laundry room is?” You asked wanting to know if he still remembered how the house was laid out.

A slight chuckle let out his mouth “corse’ I do” he says as he makes his way upstairs to the bathroom. You sit there hand clenching the fridge handle tightly the uncomfortable feeling on your right hands ring finger shook you out of the trance to see a glimmer or the engagement ring. Pits bottomed deeper than before in your stomach as tears came flooding into your eyes ‘Why did I run’ the question pounding at the back of your head. The question that kept you lonely not wanting to call or text him cause of the guilt.

Whimpers left your mouth as you tried to ease your mind by looking for something to eat just something to do to keep your mind off of that faithful day. Not noticing the man looking at you with sad and guilt filled eyes as he slowly walked to you and gently touched your shoulder “Love?” He asked that snapped you out of the trance you were previously stuck in. “oh I’m sorry what is it?” You asked a forced smile rested on your face but when you looked into those brown eyes your lip started to quiver and your eyes started watering again “I’m so sorry..” you mumbled over and over not knowing how many times would be enough.

Choking on your tears and the lack of air you felt a tug on your heart as you felt broad arms and callous yet soft fingers hug your frame “It’s okay love” he whispered as he rocked you both back and forth you rested your head on his shoulder and kept crying “Just shouldn’t have left I’m so sorry I hurt you” the muffled and slurred words fell from your mouth what you heard poison from your own but music to him as he let out a soft chuckle “it’s okay..Simons here” he said then placed a soft kiss on your cheek as you drench his now damp shoulder. “W-why don’t you hate me I hurt you so much?..” you said shaking your head till you felt him push you off of him but still firmly holding you as the hands that were wrapped around you made their way to your face “Cause’ said I could never hate you love. Ja’ cause you weren’t ready doesn’t mean a thing” he said then kissed your forehead gently trying to calm you down. Shaking your head slowly “I’m so sorry..” you said “it’s okay” he softly led out then pulled out a chair then sat you down “come on, lemme make dinner” he said as you looked up at him. “Are you sure?” “Most positive” he said as he gently rested his hand atop your head you gave him a nod and watched him cook before you softly smiled and said “No beans on toast please” he turned around then put his hands “how does takeout sound?” He said as he pulled out his phone “amazing you said as you laughed.

The night went on with laughter and happiness and it ended with you and Simon cuddled on the couch him putting a kiss on your head as you fell asleep.

If you couldn’t tellll I didn’t know where to go with this chapter so I kinda improvised 😭 but I hope you enjoyed it and if u wanna help with the next chapter there’s a vote up on my page somewhere. Love you all take care!!! 🩷🩷🩷

[wherethatoldtraingoes2]

hi. my friends don’t get to celebrate new years like they should. they get none of what i get— dancing the cha cha slide, laughing with your friends and family, huddling up to watch fireworks and make dumb jokes.

my friends lives are in danger. my friends are kind people, infinitely so. i toast with my family and i think of my friends in gaza. we ring in the new year with laughs and smiles and love and i want nothing more than for my friends to have all of it.

they are not allowed that, even when it is not something that should be a privilege.

hi. i’d like to introduce you to mahmoud, a computer engineering student currently in gaza and trying to raise funds to both survive for the moment and evacuate once he can.

mahmoud is my friend, dearer to me than most people i know. and every day i wake up to the knowledge that he is sick and starving across the world, under threat of death. i go to sleep and i want to wail like a baby because of what every gazan endures right now.

and that is only what i feel. not what the people in gaza feel, when they are subjected to it.

so i beg of you all. please share and donate.

[sjjareads]

az x f!reader — torment

summary: azriel can’t stand the torment of loving you and being unable to show it; pairing: az x fem! reader; warnings: none, just angst. food?

Cassian’s laugh, so rich and full, pulled you out of your reverie; spoon still in hand, your untouched porridge atop it long gone hard and cold. For the past ten minutes, you’d been trying and failing to get down the breakfast spread out in a buffet before you: bread and butter, seasonal fruits; all courtesy of Rhys’ stocked townhouse kitchen. But every time you tried to eat, the leaden weight in your stomach grew heavier. The absence of one particular male at the table was a tangible, physical thing.

But your surroundings snapped back to you then: the faces of all the people, bar one, that you loved the most in your war torn world. Feyre, to the right side of Rhys, had her hand lovingly placed atop his, but her eyes were flitting to you at short intervals with an increasing, almost motherly, concern.

You could tell within seconds that a private conversation flowed silently between the two of them. Knew it as surely as you knew it was about you. About what to do next, and how.

Indeed, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed as fully, as heartily, as Cass.

With a slight shake of your head as if to refocus, you spooned in your mouthful of oats. Chewed, swallowed. Did it again. Again. Again. Again.

Across from you, beside Cassian, this time Morrigan caught your attention. Out of everyone in your found family, you often felt she understood you best: that your trauma bond was one that ran so unspeakingly deep, between two females that had been broken and made themselves reborn.

Now, her eyes were tender, painfully so, as she sought out your own. Beneath the table, her shoe clad foot bumped yours, and you took the message as if her voice had spoken in your very own head. Come on.

It wasn’t chastising. Never would Mor, a sister to you in soul if not in blood, be chiding. Food was fuel, and they all knew it, too. Had fought enough battles, enough wars, to know it.

And the Cauldron only knew what they’d face today to make you regret not agreeing.

Still, Cassian and Amren continued their sniping back and forth across the table; what they’d been saying, you couldn’t have said, but the rumble of voices was a sure — albeit distant — comfort.

There was still most of the breakfast spread left, a veritable feast with no chance of going to waste when surrounded by such warriors.

Or, as you and Feyre liked to say, an excess of Illyrian babies.

You shut down the thought as you deliberately didn’t think about the one conspicuously absent.

As if it was a physical thing, you knew your sorrow bled out into the room; knew it was pretence that kept your friends laughing, and joking, and talking into that deep quiet.

As if on cue, Cassian and Amren’s bickering slowed, then died out altogether.

It wasn’t until that scent caught you in the gut that you realised quite why it had.

Azriel’s presence took all the air from the room, the townhouse, the world, as he took one step over the threshold. Around him, his shadows were an extension of himself: that inner darkness you knew lingered in him, that you loved dearer than your own self.

Of course, he’d known you’d be in here — those lithe whorls of living night never missed a trick, especially not when it came to you.

So it was a surprise, a shock hit to your gut, when Az’s broad frame filled the doorway, and he walked in, swift as though born on a wind, and made to the seat beside yours.

It had been a month — longer, even — than he’d been this close. Than he’d been within range of even speaking. At every chance, he wouldn’t deign to say a single word; would leave a room, no excuses needed when it was him, just because he knew you would soon enter it.

No one, as far as you knew, could discern exactly what had gone wrong between you —you certainly couldn’t. But you did know how they spoke about it in your absence, and it never sat well. Even though you knew it was for love of you both, it didn’t work to lessen the sting.

The proud, stubborn insult of it. Of being what they had to discuss.

The pains the others took to restart conversation almost brought you to tears, your heart been hammering against your ribs like a struck bird of prey trapped in its cage.

Between you and Azriel, tension thickened and wrought the air heavy with its taste. His shadows twined around his shoulders and you knew they whispered to him; could swear you sometimes felt them watch you — speak to you — as they did him.

One breath in, one out. With impossible focus, you looked anywhere but at the Shadowsinger, holding fast to the deep timbre of Rhys’ voice, and Feyre’s responding, light laugh.

The easiness between them, the intimacy that came so readily, so naturally —

You couldn’t help but turn your eyes to the male seated beside you, hoping for something, anything, some sign that he was there, just that he cared for a second —

All at once, the room changed. Azriel’s chair was pushed back with the ease and assurance of the warrior he’d always been. His tall frame seemed to fill the whole room as he stood from the table and crossed to the doorway.

He didn’t utter a word as he left, as his scent was carried on a phantom wind.

But you could’ve sworn you heard that whispering, heard it pull at something deep inside your core, deeper even than your heart as he walked from the room. From you.

Your family met your eyes, guilt and disappointment twin aches on their faces. No no no. You couldn’t stand their pity.

Even worse was the genuine sorrow not only for you, but for who they’d lost as well.

When was the last time the seven of you had eaten together, a full meal? When was the last time you’d laughed together like you used to, as a unit, as a family?

You couldn’t bear to keep count any longer.

•~•

Azriel hadn’t made it three steps out of the dining room before he could’ve fallen to his knees. He might have, were it not for him knowing that you all watched his back receding from view — he knew, even without his whispers, how acutely you all mourned his presence.

But what could he say, or do? Azriel had thought of going to Rhys, of telling him — confirming to him — what he suspected he likely already knew. That was, judging by the way he’d met his eyes just before you turned his way.

In that one look, every unspoken word between the two brothers had passed. It was a flat, unyielding look, tinged with a sympathy he couldn’t stand. Toeing the line between brother and High Lord wasn’t always easy, and it never was now. Not with this.

Not with you, his mate.

And when you’d turned your head, those wide searching eyes so damn trusting, so achingly hopeful as they sought out his own —

Your scent had lifted up from your hair with the movement, and that had been Azriel’s undoing.

He’d had to get out of that room before his heart caved in on itself. He’d had to get out, get out, and now that he was he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think around the ache in him —

Not even his shadows, in their swift stealth and silence, could quiet the voice in his mind; a child’s voice, his voice. Unloved unloved unloved.

Every day, every time — those words, and that same voice.

So if this was the price he had to pay then so be it. He would pay it, and be done. He knew exactly what he didn’t deserve.

Would never deserve.

Because if you found out the truth, if you knew for one second what you actually were to him —

He’d rather be the one to do the leaving than be left.

[terry-perry]

Out of Business

Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader

The next part of this

Tags: @mysterypotatoink @lokis-imaginary-friend @lonelysimp18 @readergirlstuff @amyking300 @for-hearthand-home @wonderlandfandomkingdom @purple-umbrella-girl @saccharine-nectarine @monomas-girl @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog @junieshohoho @yourmom132 @thebreadisthetruevillian @martinys-world @yui-onnero

He lurked in the background, observing the lovely doe before him grazing on grass. She was a sweet thing that was none the wiser of his presence as he slowly snuck up towards her.

He did his best to muffle the static radiating off him. He was normally able to keep it under control, but lately, he'd been out of sorts. He could deny it as much as he wanted, but everyone knew what was happening. Further proof came in how he spotted the markings of a nearby tree as he got closer to the doe, leading him to release an audible growl, alerting the doe of his presence.

It was too late for her, however, since a large, dark tentacle pierced her middle, killing her in an instant. He pounced on the carcass and took a giant chunk of it by ripping it with his teeth. For the majority of the time, he isn't so primal with his food and takes his time with it. That day and the past few had him unreasonably angry at everyone and everything.

He was mad at Carmilla for speaking with him, Y/N for not giving him a chance to explain himself, and at himself for letting her go. At that moment, he was mad at what was carved on the tree, which now looked over him and made him feel more judged for his recent actions.

It didn't help that he still remembered how the markings got there...

Months ago...

"Husker, my good man! I need you to serve only the finest bottle of wine tonight, you hear?!"

Everyone was caught off guard by Alastor's presence, seeing him trudge down the hotel stairs more animated than usual.

"I want things to be 100% top-notch this evening for me and my gal,"

"Aww, Alastor," Charlie approached him at the bar with curiosity and intrigue. "Do you have a friend stopping by?"

"Suppose you can say that," Alastor replied, still practically beaming as his shadow was conjured up with a mirror so he could adjust his bowtie and spruce up his hair. "I'm inviting a special someone to the hotel. Someone I've grown accustomed to after spending time with her."

"Oh shit! Am I hearing things right?!" Angel was the next to approach Alastor after hearing this bombshell. "Big, scary Alastor found someone he's willing to get it on with?"

Alastor snapped his head away from his reflection to glare at Angel, but it was only a second or two before regaining his composure. "I wouldn't put it so crudely, but yes. I have been courting someone."

Charlie practically squealed upon hearing the news. "That's great! I'm so happy to hear such news! She must be quite special to get you so happy and want to make this a lovely night for you both."

"Special, or out of her fuckin' mind..." Husk grumbled from the bar so only Vaggie, who joined the rest of the group, could hear and silently nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, my dear. I do request one thing. My lady love is a very private person and would rather keep our relationship under wraps for the time being. I assume you all can refrain from any gossip that can be conjured from our romance."

"Of course! Your secret is safe-"

"Why exactly do we need to keep this a secret?" Vaggie interrupted her girlfriend to offer the usual suspicion she reserved just for him. "You're not trying to rope us into some shady business, are you?"

Alastor refrained from rolling his eyes. She was always so distrustful.

His relationship with Y/N might've started as a potential business and a possible deal, especially since it was so easy to capture her heart so her soul would've been no problem. The more time spent with her, however, it instead was slowly turning into something else - something dearer that left him so unsure. Instead of him getting something out of her, he always made sure she'd want for absolutely nothing, no soul required.

He wondered how he could've gone through life and death not knowing such an endearing, trusting darling. She was kind and gentle but didn't possess any of the bubbly naivete Charlie did. She was not only aware of where they were but also came from a family of assailants and weapons dealers who raised her to be alert and to fend for herself. He both feared and admired that along with how she accepted him for who he was and never judged the darkest parts of himself.

It was all so new and a bit alarming, whatever this was. He just knew he had to keep a good hold on it--

----

Alastor's thoughts were interrupted by a tapping at his door. No doubt Charlie chose to stop by to check on him after he charged back to the hotel a few days ago, after his fallout with Y/N.

It wasn't the princess' dulcet tones that implored him, however, after some insistent knocking. Instead, Alastor heard a more unwelcoming voice that under more proper circumstances he'd find entertaining.

"Alastor?" Vaggie continued to call out to him outside his room. "Come on, let me in. We need to talk."

[asheepinfrance]

nurse... nurse she's out and she's art posting. god... oh god nurse. Anyways I wrote this in like 20 minutes and did not proof read it but i love my boy! i love my little rat man! and he deserves a little post. will have a patrick post soon :))

Being 18 is fucking weird, man. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. There’s still acne cropping up where it’s most noticeable, sweat when there’s no heat, but with all the added pressures of legal adulthood, and, worst of all, a just-above-teenage mind that insists on wandering. If Art could have gotten through a single senior year English class without staring at that one girl in the third row and having to cross his legs, which he swears is subtle, he’d be convinced of miracles. But it’s summer break now, and that means he’s free to do as he pleases. As he pleases, for the time being, is lounging on his porch steps, throwing a tennis ball up… and then down… and then up again… then back down. Fascinating stuff, really. That’s just about as satisfying as a sticky, early-June day can be until he sees just about the prettiest girl, like, ever, walk by. She must be the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on. He’s convinced of it. She’s practically strutting down the sidewalk, which is so uneven it should be considered a safety hazard, like she owns the place. Does she? Who cares. Pretty girl. Pretty, pretty girl with pretty, long legs and pretty, long hair and oh jesus christ, why is she looking this way-

 “Hey, you, uh… dropped this, so…” Oh god, she’s standing so close. When did she get all the way here? If he reached out a hand just the slightest bit, he’d be touching her soft-looking thighs and it’s enough to leave him panting. Thank god it’s hot, at least he’ll have a valid-sounding excuse for it. He’s vaguely aware that she’s holding out a tennis ball that he’d apparently dropped… he genuinely didn’t notice a thing. “Yeah, I- Huh! Yeah, thanks.” And now he’s standing there, and she’s standing there, and he needs to get her to talk again. He didn’t memorize her voice the first time. “Do I know you?” He leans back on his palms, knee over knee, and he’s sure he looks absolutely badass. The smile that grows on her face shows the sight is something more akin to ‘child with a playground crush’. “No, I’m just visiting. My cousin, I mean. His name’s Cooper, fhe lives a few houses away, you know him?” Cooper. As in Cooper Friedman with the giant glasses and chronic B.O? How the hell are they related?? “Cooper? Aw, man, that’s my best bud. We should all… hang out or something while you’re in town. You know… since me and him already hang out all the time…”

She quirks a brow, barely suppressed grin on her face. “You hang out with Cooper?” He’s about to insist that yes, they’re just the bestest of friends, when she laughs. She laughs and it’s so real and raw and human and he can feel his lips curling into that stupid, mousey smile he’s so unconfident about. She doesn’t seem horrified by it. Win. “You’re too pretty for that shit, dude-”

“Art! It’s Art.” How cool and not desperate sounding at all. Awesome, bad-ass, tough guy behavior, really. “Well then, you’re too pretty for that shit, Art.” Oh wow. Oh wow, she said his name. She said his name and he finally understands the universe. The universe is one pretty girl saying your name with the sweetness usually reserved for someone much nearer and dearer than a perfect stranger. 

Oh my god. Did she say pretty? The realization hits him in the stomach like the many poorly-aimed (purposefully or otherwise) tennis balls that he’s taken to the gut. He’s sat there gaping like a fish, and she tilts her head with a grin, seemingly unbothered. If anything, she’s amused. He’ll happily make a fool of himself around the clock to see her smile like that. After a few more seconds of fool-making, she just shrugs the interaction off, seemingly having found as much entertainment in him as she could. She offers him a little finger wave, a smile that’s just a bit different than the other ones, and a “Bye, Art” that could kill a man. Specifically, a man named Art Donaldson, who’s still staring at her with stars in his eyes. “Yeah… yeah, bye” and he’s still grinning and he has to repeat his senior-year English routine of crossing his legs. She doesn’t mention it when she walks away, so she must not have seen. He’s silently thanking the universe for his subtlety. 

She absolutely noticed.

[bitchy-craft]

Book Quotes From Your Future Spouse | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find a channeled romantic book quote from your fs. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterlist > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

“Anyone who has seen her smile has known perfection. She instills grace in every common thing and divinity in every careless gesture.”

CYRANO DE BERGERAC

Edmond Rostand

Pile 2:

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

Charles Dickens

Pile 3:

“I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world...”

HAVING A COKE WITH YOU

Frank O’Hara

Pile 4:

“She was more than human to me. She was a Fairy, a Sylph, I don’t know what she was – anything that no one ever saw, and everything that everybody ever wanted. I was swallowed up in an abyss of love in an instant.”

DAVID COPPERFIELD

Charles Dickens

Pile 5:

“The way her body existed only where he touched her. The rest of her was smoke.”

THE GOD OF SMALL THINGS

Arundhati Roy

Pile 6:

“You are the friend to whom my soul is attached as to its better half. You are dearer to me than language has the power of telling.”

EVELINA

Frances Burney

[patrophthia]

Heya, I don't know it's already done or not but can you please write about the egoistic yandere Tom Marvolo Riddle with a hugeeee obsession and love🤔 on introverted half blood slytherin y/n who doesn't give a f*ck him and his looks like other girls of Hogwarts!🫠

thank you for sending this in, i was really hesitant on writing this bc i’ve never wrote anything like this before so i hope you like it!

know you better | tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

warnings: yandere!tom, very obsessive and delusional way of thinking, death, even more delusions

To fall in love with you was the easiest thing Tom has ever done. All you had to do was merely be in the same vicinity as him and he’d found himself more than just head over heels over you. 

For you to fall in love with him on the other hand, that surely was one of the hardest things he had to do in life. You don’t look at him —not because, unlike the others, you didn’t dare to but because you weren’t interested in him. You don’t offer him a smile when he greets you good morning. You don’t throw yourself at him when he turns a blind eye when he catches you sneaking around the castle at night. You don’t care for him. 

And quite honestly, it is driving him insane. What is it that everybody has that he doesn’t? Why does everyone else get to see you smile when you won’t even turn in his direction? Why won’t you just admit you want him as much as he wants you? 

Though you don’t show it, Tom can read between the lines. He thinks —no, he knows that you’re acting indifferent to play hard to get. He knows you want him, you just won’t admit it.

He tries to be a gentleman about his intentions at first, sliding up to you whilst you hover your cauldron during potions. He calls out your last name cautiously, careful to not startle you; he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he accidentally hurts you. You turn to him, a small frown appearing on your lips. “Riddle?” 

He skips the formalities, not bothering to beat around the bush. “Would you like to go out this weekend?” 

You fix him a look, and then, “no.” 

You didn’t hear him right. That’s what he tells himself. Or maybe he’s confused, because why wouldn’t someone want to go out with him? Tom clarifies himself, “I meant on a date.” 

You turn back to your cauldron, ending the conversation as is. “No.” 

He was certain that you’re playing hard to get now. That was until one of his goons —Malfoy, that was his name, started noticing that Tom’s eyes tended to wander whenever you were in the same room as him; until Malfoy tells Tom exactly why you’d said no. 

“Macmillan, that’s his name. Walburga says they’ve been going out for a few months now.” You have a boyfriend? No, no, that can’t be right. There’s no way you had a boyfriend when you were so clearly playing hard to get with Tom this entire time. 

Was it because your ‘boyfriend’ was holding you back from your true love? Or were you using this ‘boyfriend’ as bait? Had you known that it was time for Tom to create his next Horcrux and had needed a new sacrifice? How thoughtful of you to take care of these little things for him. 

Luckily Tom’s smart, he’s known to be smart, and he’s smart enough to read you like an open book even though you won’t spare a second of your time on him. He admires it, how hard you’re playing this role of not caring for him when you’re clearly as indicated with him as he, you. 

He’ll take up on your offer, he thinks as he sets out towards his chamber. The Basilisk is a dear friend of his, it’s even dearer when it does these things for him. In Parsel tongue, Tom says his order. “Kill Macmillan. And be careful not to hurt her.” 

The Basilisks set out first, setting off after the aforementioned man; Tom a few steps behind. It isn’t hard for him to follow his dear friend, it leaves a wet trail in its wake for him to follow and it’s even easier for him to know when his friend has done its job from the scream you let out. 

Tom’s clever enough to hide behind the corridors as he waits for his friend to return back to his home. His heart aches to hold you as you scream time and time again, asking for help and he reminds himself to reward you for your amazing acting. 

With the way you’re so desperately clinging onto Macmillan’s body, you almost convince him that you genuinely cared for Macmillan, like Macmillan really was someone you were in love with. But he knows you, he knows you better than you know you. And he knows you love him. 

So he schools his expression to one of worry, if you were really playing the part then he should be a good sport and play it with you. “What’s wrong?” He asks you, not sparing a glance at Macmillan’s frigid body. 

“This —this thing, it came and it—” you stutter out, hiccuping out each word as you swiped at your eyes. Tom places a hand on your own, removing your grip on Macmillan’s body and ignores it when you flinch at his touch. “—it, I don’t know what it did but next thing I knew he was— he was gone.” 

Oh poor you, he sympathises. Such a good girl for him to play your part so well. He pries your other hand away from Macmillan’s body and wraps his arm around you. “It’s okay,” he offers, pressing your face against his chest. “It’s okay, I’m here now. I’ll keep you safe.” 

You sniffle, pulling away from him slightly. And when he realises that you could see the red glow in his eyes, neither of you mention it; for you were too afraid of the man holding you, and he too in love for something so trivial to take part of your conversation.

— from bee: this is so so new to me,, i hope you liked it!

[bruciemilf]

Something something, Bruce accidentally keeps adopting his friends' wards. It doesn't sit well with his kids.

Diana's been training Yara for a little over a year. She's scrappy, brave, and unafraid to stand up for herself against the world. She reminds Bruce of a dearly beloved Ghost, and even dearer son.

" Oh wow. You're, uh. You're Batman. Love your work. I mean, Princess Di says you should take it easier since mortals don't fight gods, but it's so cool to me that you do. My mom died too! ...Sorry. Can you sign my pegasus?"

"...For?"

" Jerry. I mean, -- Yara! Sorry."

" Meeting new people isn't exactly my forte. It's fine. Is my training plan working for you? We can adjust it together."

"Oh! Well, I have some cool ideas,-"

For some, emotion gets lost when it comes to Batman. They see a wall of stone and tragedy, nothing beyond a twitch of lips reminding them there's a man wearing the cowl, not the other way around.

Dick's mouth is hanging open as he watches the blank expression on Bruce's face, patient with the excitable rambling in front of him. He rarely looks so happy on patrol.

"He smiled at her!"

Damian is very stubborn. He just won't accept it. Not even with the evidence of Diana's student taking a stream of selfies with his Baba, where he even smiles in one of them!

" Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. That's reaching a new low of stupid, even for you."

" Okay, one. I'm a very capable detective who thought YOU the robin ways. If I'm an idiot, you're an idiot."

" ...TT."

" Second... It wouldn't hurt to be home more often. I think he's lonely."

Damian frowns, " Baba deserves better than pity scraps. And you deserve better than forcing yourself to be here when you're not ready. It's unfair to you both."

"...Maybe I'm not an idiot after all."

The real challenge? The superboys.

"It's not that serious, Dames."

" Not that serious?!" Damian hisses when he's sad, it's a well known fact, " He put MY stickers on your bandages. You don't even NEED bandages!"

Jon shrugs, maybe, perhaps, intentionally flaunting the pink dragon stickers on his wrist. Accepting to arm wrestle Cass had been a bad idea, " It's a nice gesture."

Damian points a finger at him, then calms himself with a hollow breath, " I'm going to walk away. My therapist would be extremely proud of me."

But the bets were off when Jason visited.

"...What's your boy toy doing in my room?"

Tim drags a hand over his face as Kon whistles a marry tune, lounged comfortably on Jason's bed like a spoiled cat, " Dad Invited him over for dinner."

" I just figured it'd be nice to settle in! Since I'll be moving in soon and all," Kon smiles very smugly, " Bruce needs someone around since you just hate being here so much. You don't mind, right?"

" You know," Tim figures he should at least try to stop the slaughter, " I think Alfred's cookies are done. Let's go check."

Jason's radiating murder, " I think it's time for you to go home."

" Oh, I'd really love to see you make me."

Tim discovers Kon is immune to bullets, but not to being crashed through a wall.

[dabiconcordia]

“As a dinner guest I gratefully eat just about anything that's set before me, because graciousness among friends is dearer to me than any other agenda.” ― Barbara Kingsolver

[bugwolfsstuff]

But fr

We have exactly two sources of Ampelos' existence in classical myth

Nonnus and *sighs* OVID

TWO SOURCES

DEUX

A DÓ

DOS

DUO

BOTH SOURCES CALL AMPELOS A LOVER OF DIONYSUS

RICKOLAS RIORDAN SOMEHOW MANAGES TO CALL THEM CHILDHOOD FRIENDS

RICK HOW???????

GENUINELY HOW THE FUCK???

Ovid has some wiggle room cause it says loved by Dionysus so you can say any form of love

BUT NONNUS HAS A SCENE WHERE DIONYSUS SAYS AMPELOS IS DEARER TO HIM THAN OLYMPUS AND THAT AMPELOS IS PRETTIER THAN GANYMEDE TO ZEUS

*angrily points at Dionysiaca book 10 and 11* LOOK AT IT RICKOLAS LOOK AT IT.

[mjulianwrites]

3 for Preston, 4 for Julie, 9 for Val, and 22 for Sylvie for the oc asks!

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

well if you asked him. preston voice this is my girlfriend julie, she's the sweetest and most beautiful girl in the world, i love her more than anything and i want to spend the rest of my life with her, i mean nope, never mind, i never cared about julie, sylvie is the love of my life and she's gorgeous and perfect except that she won't even give me a chance but if she did we'd live happily ever after. what about val? he's my best friend. that's it. shut up about him.

4. Do they look good in red?

i picture julie wearing mostly more toned down colours. unfortunately she is so christian girl autumn. and probably some pastels too. so i don't think she would wear red but she might look sexy. if she ever goes on her villain arc she deserves it.

9. Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

hmm, not really? i think val gets attached to physical objects that are associated with people or places he cares about but i don't really see him empathizing with inanimate things themselves.

22. Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

i am notoriously bad at writing pet names because i, the author, often find them cringe but let's see. i think sylvie would despise being called pet names specifically by condescending men but maybe people she's really close to are allowed. i know she calls julie "babe" at one point in a concerned friend way but i could see her pulling that out with romantic partners too. but probably not a ton.

[namelessprayers]

hornet has no friends.

she doesn't need them nor want them. friends are simply a way to refer to people lost along the journey, inevitably and predictably.

she doesn't count lace, even with the many times that they spar in the midst of some confusing truce or help patch the other's wounds, hornet knows lace and her are both the types who are better off seeking no one and having no one.

yet, lace seems set on more than just using each other as a means to refine their skills in battle. constantly, she gives hornet the barest thing of a smile, one too vulnerable in its honesty. lace is also intent on polishing their weapons and sharing their rations and stumbling upon hornet in secluded areas where it cannot be incidental.

suffice to say, hornet is afraid she's making a friend, perhaps one dearer than all the lost things spread in between.

it takes a week of pointed evasion from where lace frequents and where the territory allows it for hornet to be cornered into a familiar whitened room of silk and flowers.

a touch on the shoulder and beautiful lies is what lace leaves to hornet, not that either would ever request for anything more. with this, they part ways, almost permanently. hornet is never due to be the friend that sticks. she'd never be more than a friend either.

lace finds her somewhere in the future, distant and disparaged, among the ruins of hallownest.

hornet leans her nail on a rock and reaches for the other without thinking, as she's tired of losing friends so easily as if she never even tried to hold on. the fact is, holding on spared hornet further grief but lengthened the regret.

and now hornet has a friend she's determined to keep.

[burningvelvet]

Happy 226th birthday to Mary Shelley!

“It is not singular that, as the daughter of two persons of distinguished literary celebrity, I should very early in life have thought of writing. As a child I scribbled; and my favourite pastime, during the hours given me for recreation, was to ‘write stories.’ Still I had a dearer pleasure than this, which was the formation of castles in the air — the indulging in waking dreams — the following up trains of thought, which had for their subject the formation of a succession of imaginary incidents. My dreams were at once more fantastic and agreeable than my writings. In the latter I was a close imitator — rather doing as others had done, than putting down the suggestions of my own mind. What I wrote was intended at least for one other eye — my childhood's companion and friend; but my dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed — my dearest pleasure when free.”

— from the 1831 preface of Frankenstein.

[eiloveir]

“If I betray you, I betray myself...” Naruto’s voice trembled, his eyes averted, unable to face the man he once knew. The darkness around them felt suffocating and strangely comforting, perhaps because of the familiar presence before him.

Uchiha Sasuke.

Years had slipped away, but the memories still stung. He couldn’t forget the moment he lost Sasuke, watching him morph into someone nearly unrecognizable—a lost cause. Yet, as he faced him after so long, he saw the boy who had once fought beside him, who had understood his loneliness and pain. With every ounce of his being, he swore again and again to bring him back home.

Back to him.

“If I betray you, I betray my country.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, each word lies emotion. He still couldn’t bring himself to meet Sasuke’s searching eyes—to betray him was to betray the village, their friends, and the future he fiercely tried to protect. What was he if he couldn’t bring him back? How could he pursue his dream without the sight of his inspiration—the one whose acknowledgment he craved?

To betray Sasuke was to betray the very essence of who he was, and that was something Naruto could never do.

“The village is very dear to me,” He continued, seizing the chance to pour out his heart. After all, Sasuke wasn’t easily swayed by words. “It’s my home, my treasure. My friends, my family, everything I hold dear is there. And you know damn well, my dreams are there too. It’s the place I long to return to.”

“Is it... dearer than I?” Sasuke’s voice pierced through the silence, its chill palpable. As Naruto finally met his gaze, he discerned a tumult of perseverance, loneliness, and suppressed anger in his eyes

It is the same ones that looked at both sunlight and darkness with him.

“No... no. Not dearer than you.” Those words were all that remained in his voice—laden with emotion. Those carried the unspoken feelings and the connection he couldn’t deny, even after everything they had been through. He wouldn’t have saved him countless times, defended him to everyone, and been willing to die for him, just for people to think he was merely his “friend.”

The truth ran deeper—the faith he has in Sasuke when no one else would dare exemplify a bond far from a mere friendship.

[littyhoney]

DOUBTS

Miles Morales x Reader

I lost most of my stories that I have written on my laptop because of my baby cousin used it TuT, enjoy spiders ❤️🖤

(Short fic)

As you stand along with the other spiders, hearing your father Miguel O'Hara explaining to your beloved Miles about the canon events that must and will happen to any spider people. You only bring Miles here to meet your father because Miguel gives you a green light to finally introduce Miles to him... but that's not why he wants him here.

Suddenly everything escalate so fast now that Miles is determined to go home to save his dad who soon will be the captain... you reach your hand to him, to comfort him. Miles turn to you with a heartbroken feature on his face without a doubt in his mind about is 'Why she bring me here', 'She's lying to me', 'She wants to trap me like her father is planning'..but no, you don't know this will happen at all.

You bang your hands at the red cage surrounding Miles after your father throw it at him screaming at your father to "Let him go!" and "He doesn't do anything he is not the cause of this!" but your cries only heard by no one. Your father tries to be reasonable with you saying this is for the best for him, to accept his fate.

A burst of energy blows few people who stand there to be thrown back, causing the cage that held Miles to malfunction. He broke it, Miles look at you and you make eye contact with him. His eyes show fear... confusion. Your eyes seem by him is sympathy... and regret, to ever bring him here... to put him in danger.

But there is unknown connection to the both of you... both of you know what goes through each other's mind.

"If I betray him... I betray myself"

Your eyes at Miles.

"If I betray them... I betray my country"

you look back to your father and friends that you made in the spider society.

"My country is very dear to me-"

"Dearer than I?"

Your head snap back to Miles, shaking your head gently.

"No... no not dearer than you"

you snap him out of his thoughts urging him to

"Run Miles!"