#i had to speak the truth

[sejarcus-archive]

My public service announcement of the day is that modern au Coriolanus would be a gym bro

[paras-atashnak]

realistically frankie should be above 85% of the players people list as the best to never win, but most of the fanbase can’t (rightfully) stand him or won’t take someone so flamboyant seriously enough to consider it

[phinjeet]

* theyre EVERYTHING to me . lozer ipad kid and the dad that stepped up

[yhwcomeback]

They grow up so fast!

Happy 14th birthday Ninjago!

[bbq-potato-chip]

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I love talking to rabbis as a recent conversion student because the interaction goes something like, "you're converting? Now?! At this time, at this moment in history?!". And they always talk about this influx of jewish convert students they've seen recently, and it's like...

There's this level of respect I get from rabbis for converting at this point in time, but... Has there ever been a good time to be a jew in the last thousand years or so plus? I'm imagining that rabbis and jews in general back in 1492, back in 1290, back in 1349 would have said the exact same thing. So, really, there is only a time to be a jew. Maybe it's not a "good" time, yes, but it is a time. And to me, that's good enough

[cheesenchalk]

i never know how to phrase it but something about the way beatles biographers and people in general view paul's reflexive placating persona and determination to smooth things over as manipulative or duplicitous and john's reflexive barbed persona and habit of lashing out as brave and subversive despite both being equally defensive mechanisms to shield themselves from the world that resulted in them saying things that weren't true says more about how we culturally view kindness or friendliness as inherently untrustworthy or flimsy and anger and carelessness as more believable as someone's true nature than it says about either of them in actuality

[rubydubydoo122]

Why is it that Batman’s ok with Antiheroes if it’s Catwoman or Talia Al Ghul, but when it’s the Red Hood, suddenly he’s beating the shit out of him

~Jason Peter Todd at some point

[sniffanimal]

knights of wind and truth

[get-arcaned]

I'm sorry I don't mean for this to sound rude or anything but most of you Jayvik fic authors are getting Viktor's nick names wrong. I can tell when you're not Slavic, every variation has a specific connotation, a mood with which you use it.

update

[yourlocalabomination]

“Aside from TGWDLM (and a brief BF cameo), Ted Spankoffski has long hair and we as a fandom need to represent that more often within our fanworks, ” I say into the mic.

The crowd boos. I begin to walk off in shame when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room.

“They’re right,” he says. I look for the owner of the voice. There in the 5th row stands: Joey Richter himself, with long hair.

[gridzdoodle]

I LOVE PORTAL SO MUCH GHHH FUNNY ROBOT GAME

I love chell she’s so coolness and awesomesauce

I love glados she’s so full of witty quips and cleverness

I love testing it’s so fun and puzzley

I love cubes and buttons

cave johnson

I LOVE DOUG RATTMAN <3

I LOVE CAROLINE <3

[insignificant457]

There is a nebulous jordie lives au which lives entirely in my head in which jordie recovers from the plague while Kaz is still sick. He gets up to find them food and water only to return and discover Kaz is nowhere to be found. Still recovering from the fever, he searches the barrel for days before he finally sees Kaz wandering down the staves in a sort of fugue state, soaked to the bone with a haunted look in his eyes.

Kaz won’t tell him what happened, but jordie knows it’s bad because his baby brother flinches every time he touches him, and soon enough he’s started wearing gloves, even in the height of summer.

Soon, they discover kazs gift for cards, and it keeps them fed and clothed, if not much else. Kaz is angry at jordie for losing the money, refuses to let him make any decisions. Jordie is beholden to his angry traumatized little brother because he can’t deny that he failed them the first time around.

Kaz is offered a place in his pick of the gangs, but the only one willing to take both him and his tag along older brother is the dregs. Jordie dies a little bit inside when they join up, when they take the tattoo side by side, but he’s not sure they’ll survive another winter on the streets.

And the plot of SoC generally goes on from there. Jordie tags along on the ice court, he and Jesper test kazs patience at every turn, he’s constantly offering unsolicited annoying older brother advice about Inej.

This lends itself to a really interesting exploration of Kaz and jordies relationship, what holds brothers together in the face of incredible trauma, the skewed power dynamic of Kaz becoming the breadwinner for them both at the age of nine, etc etc. But mostly, this au is a vessel for the sailing of the ultimate crack ship, which is of course, jordie/alys Van Eck.

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love part 4

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and presses the heels of his palm into his eyes.

Im such a piece of shit. God, how could I just do that.

He’s pissed at Steve for not saying something sooner, for waiting until Eddie had something good in his grasp. But he’s angry with himself too.

How stupid is he, really? Did he really not notice until it all came face to face?

He has Adiel’s number memorized, but he knows which of Steve’s beauty marks form constellations.

Mostly, hes confused. His feelings are a jumbled mess and he’s never been good at sorting them out. Naturally, he turns to music. Dio has serenaded him these past few days. Wayne has steered clear of his shit show.

How do you feel right now?

What do you see?

Where would you be right now?

Hey angel what about me?

Jesus fucking fuck. He attempts to run his hand through his hair only it doesn’t get too far, rings snagged in his tangled hair. He can feel the oil built up on the strands and knows it’s time to get his ass out of bed. He doesn’t.

“Angel, Angel, angel. You were my angel. Just not anymore.” He mutters to himself long after the track has finished and another song plays. He’s learning to let go still, even after he’s ended it.

You know what really makes him feel like a dickhead? That Adiel got hurt because of him. He didn’t deserve to get caught in Eddie’s bullshit.

Guilt eats him alive.

His conscious hurts and his heart trembles, tumbled in his chest, but he doesn’t feel the heartbreak the way he should. That world-on-fire and breath burning feeling. He can’t find it.

Like a masochist he wants for it, desires it, deserves it like sinner.

Those last few weeks were enough for his feelings to settle, for his heart to make a decision with or without his input. He tried—god fuck I tried—to feel that skipped-beat flutter when Adiel smiled his way. Could almost convince himself he could. That Adiel’s interlocked hand in his still felt an extension of himself instead of something foreign.

It used to feel like I belonged at his side. Why did it have to stop?

He’s wronged a friend who trusted him to keep his heart safe. A friend who had already been through so much. And Eddie added to that lifetime of hurt because he couldn’t figure it out himself.

Because he was too stupid to see and too stupid to know.

He thinks of Steve’s lips, like he has now for days. Weeks. His heart twists, rung out. That skipped-beat flutter that betrays him.

Fuck. Fuck, man.

He has to stop yanking at his hair like he can train himself out of feeling it.

Do your demons, do they ever let you go?

When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside

Is it someone that you know?

You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time

We're a lie, you and I.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells no one because he needs to say it until he can forgive himself a little. Until he can make himself believe that Adiel will forgive him, in time.

“I’m so sorry,” this time says it to himself, covers his face with his hands and finally cries.

Against his fucking will he cries, can’t hold onto it anymore. Ugly retching sobs that can only come from mourning an almost.

Finally, after days of like solitude, Wayne creeps in un-intrusive as a shadow. His hand on his shoulder may be the only thing that keeps Eddie from disappearing.

“I could’ve loved him, Wayne. I could’ve—I did. I think I fucking loved him and I didn’t know until—until I didn’t anymore. And then—and then I just couldn’t again.”

I wish he got to know that. That even for a short time, I had loved him.

Wayne, ever a man of few words, sits with him and lets him have his silence.

———

It’s a little over a month after that that Steve pays him a visit.

He’s smart enough to show up when Wayne isn’t home, looking sheepish as he shuffles on his front step. At least he has the gall to look him in the eyes.

All this is because of you, he thinks. His dark under eyes, his pallid skin. The rage in his blood. The almost that he had.

“Why are you here?” He looks taken aback, almost shrinks in on himself.

“I… the boys said that you, well.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, his hair longer than when Eddie last saw it. It slips through Steve’s fingers. “You never came by again and I wanted to see you. To talk? Can we talk? Can’t… can’t I come in?”

Having Steve in his home, in his space, is dangerous.

Those eyes are deep, soften by tired shadows.

“No,” his swallow is audible and steels himself, “Why should I want you in my home, Steve?”

Steve stands there lips parted and hands clenches at the bottom of his sweatshirt, eyes shined over. Eddie takes the chance to step forward. Everything inside him is too much.

“Don’t you understand what you did? I was happy. And you, fuck, you ruined it! Steve! You!” He out of the door way now and Steve steps back, back, back.

Steve’s face is red in shame. Eddie’s in anger. His pointed finger jabbed at his chest, accusing.

“You couldn’t just let me be happy? Why? Why did you kiss me, Steve? Why then? Was it because you couldn’t stand that I finally had someone? Say something!”

Steves eyes overflow, “Yes! I could stand it because I love you, asshole! I thought, I don’t know—I thought you loved me, too. Okay? Me. We both felt it—tell me you felt it too, Eddie? It wasn’t just me, right?

“You were everywhere and everything. You’d smile at me and it was the sun. So close, always right there and it was like we were—we were teetering on the edge of something amazing. And I was so happy, Eddie. So happy that day ‘cuz I thought, it was just us, right? Me and you. Just us. Together.

“But then you saw him and your weren’t even listening to me. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You only had eyes for him. You left me there and I didn’t know what to do with myself ‘cuz suddenly all you’d talk about was him. Every day and every minute we were together. After thinking, after thinking you loved me too.

That I had you.

So yes! Okay? I kissed you because I was selfish and I needed to know. I needed to know if any of it was real. If there really was nothing there.”

Steve’s breathing hard by the end of, words a wavering wet string of rawn vulnerable pulled out of his chest. He’s looking at the floor, hair covering his eyes, and shoulders trembling as he hiccups.

Then, everything feels still. Calm inside. For the first time in ages, Eddie feels like he can take a deep breath and not fall apart. He closes his eyes for a second and just breathes. The fight escapes him with the last breath.

“You ruined me, Steve. You ruined me in a way that even I didn’t understand. I didn’t know, not until that night, about how you felt. And I’m sorry if it was my fault, if I did and said things to make you feel that way, okay? But I didn’t… I didn’t feel that way about you. Not then. Not when you kissed me.”

“And now? Eddie? Do you… could you feel that way for me, now?”

“If it weren’t for you,” he begins, “Adiel and I… we could’ve had something great. But then you—and I— I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered so much on why you kissed me that night, replaying every moment together, to see what you saw. And ended up feeling… feeling what you felt.”

He takes the chance to move forward the last bit of space to reach to him, have him look him in the eyes. Both of them mirror images of despair.

“You ruined me, Stevie. Everything was different. It wasn’t perfect anymore, I couldn’t make it perfect again. And I couldn’t be who I had been with Adiel knowing that I couldn’t find in me what we had before. That maybe, this has the chance of being something amazing, too.

I stopped seeing you everyday, so I saw you in everything. I stopped speaking to you, and you became the voice inside my head. It was maddening.”

Eddie laughs and wipes away the tears from Steve’s eyes, they fall faster when he smiles a weak and small but real thing.

“Adiel and I, we fit together; we were good together. But despite that, I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t know why, I think I still don’t, but… I don’t need to know. I just need feel it, Stevie. And I feel it. I want this. Me and you. You have throughly ruined me, for anybody else.”

This time the kiss is different. It’s shared elation, wet and salty on the tongue, and clumsy as they try to fit into each other. Disappear in one another.

“Are you still mad?”

Those brown eyes don’t resemble gems of green, but they’re filled with incredible warmth and Eddie sees home in them,

Sees a life with them,

It’s own kind of precious.

And he laughs.

“So much, Stevie. I’m mad and heartbroken and falling jn love and happy and so so sure of us. I think, I think I still need some time, I’m really fucked—no, no, shouldn’t cry anymore,” he says as Steve’s face scrunches and it’s so unbelievably cute if he wasn’t blaming himself for it all.

“I just want to make sure I do this right this time. And if I, if I invite you in… I won’t be able to.”

Steve rests his forehead against his, there is heat between them, “But I have you, right?”

“Yeah, took me a while to figure it out but… yeah. Yes. You have me, Steve. God, and I have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to come over and pick me up at 6 in the evening so we can eat shitty pancakes at the diner.

And then we’ll figure this out together.”

Part 3 <💛 End, thank you for reading and for all the feedback!

[alteregomp4]

I hope that old man is the hottest piece of ass on the vampire market and everyone has a turn on that ride next season. I said what I said and I speak the truth.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

cw: dubcon, n0ncon, needles, knives, painplay, n power dynamics

it was petty theft that got you here. an impulsive decision and lack of pocket change had you not so subtly snatching some silly product and in seconds you were dragged off by a member of the Gardes. the trial was speedy and you were handed a single month sentence to the fortress that turned into several though you had honestly lost count. due to the dukes own interest, he plucked you from the general prison populace and kept you tucked away in his own quarters permanently.

you weren’t a hardened criminal and didn’t get the chance to learn any tips or tricks from other prisoners so trying to pick a lock was a foolish idea but desperation leads to such stupidity. it was a brash attempt at some sort of tool combined with wiggling the knob and banging against the door obviously too loud that had Wriothesley whipping it open and knocking your skull against it. his scowl was fierce and you honestly wished looks could kill knowing a cruel punishment was to come.

teary eyed and shaking, you couldn’t even beg for mercy as the first cries were soon stifled with his tie in your mouth. he wasted no time stripping you and tying you firmly to a cold medical cot, grumbling out curses and other irritated verbiage. he opened and slammed a variety of drawers and cabinets, pulling out different tools he kept out of your line of sight, always preying on the fear he could build inside you. Wriothesley took his sweet time in gathering all he’d need before slamming a metal tray on the table next to you and contemplating his first choice in inflicting unforgettable pain. he settled on a thick needle. a wicked grin spread across his face.

hands coming to crudely slap, massage, and pull at your tits, he warmed you up before bringing the metal to your chest. ignoring the rapid shakes of your head and sobs, he made quick work of harshly threading it through the flesh of your left nipple. his fingers jostled it around and seemed to imitate the way he’d certainly be roughly taking you later as he slipped it in and out numerous times to maximize the pain and border on brutalizing your once clean chest. a thick piece of jewellery followed before he gave the other nipple the same treatment as blood dripped down, pooling against your sides and sternum. as if that wasn’t enough his hands returned to the tray once more to retrieve a clean and sharp blade.

he hummed a tune you didn’t recognize as he seemed to ponder over what design would be best along your stomach and collar bones. no amount of bracing yourself could’ve prepared you for the sting as he dragged the metal deep enough to scar. clean cuts of a W landed themselves on each collarbone before he carved a heart paired with some intricate swirls along your lower stomach, spitting on them once satisfied. Wriothesley dragged his fingers harshly over the fresh wounds smearing the blood everywhere. he once more turned to the tray.

spots danced across your vision from the searing pain and you almost missed the sight of the next item, a small vial of dark indigo liquid. he pulled the tie from your mouth and used one hand to keep it open before pouring the entirety to the back of your throat before snapping your jaw shut forcing you to sputter uselessly and swallow. his smile almost seemed sweet as he explained the purpose; enhancing sensations. quickly the pain you felt snapped tenfold and you were past the point of crying and launched straight into shock. the pets that landed along your head, soft coos, and condescending praise imitated that of a real lover and you wanted to throw up. Wriothesley moved himself to kneel atop the cot and spread your numb legs. you knew what was to come.