#implied alcohol abuse

[st7arlights-side]

Theorizing Pt 1: repression

UP AHEAD: so much rambling about Orange. written very late at night and not the most coherent, sorry. (also, all uses of Thomas are referring to c!Thomas)

okay everyone talks about the dark sides being their opposites, opposing colors, colors on opposite ends of the wheel, but wanna know another term for it? complementary colors. I think the idea of "totally opposing, entirely contrasting, nothing alike" is not really accurate to the lore that we have been given? It's clear that it's important that all sides are accepted, and that there is no "solely good" or "solely bad" trait. Everything has complexities and different aspects to it, and the sides are no different.

I've never been particularly fond of the idea of wrath/anger/cruelty being orange because it seems like a scapegoat? I am more in favor of it representing regret (as most appearances of it are present in scenes or conversations with regret present) [forgot where i saw the theory first :sob:] and passion (impulsive acts based in emotions, a contrast to Logan's character while simultaneously rounding him out and forcing him and thomas to accept the parts that aren't all logical) [theory from @/dillydallydove] as these have more dimension and seem to fill out the gaps in the sides a bit more, especially considering the general theme going with remus, janus, and virgil. These are aspects that Thomas represses, and he knows them by names that aren't really accurate to their full purposes. He knows Janus as deceit, while he is more accurately described as self-preservation. He knows Remus as intrusive thoughts, when he is more accurately described as his repressed creativity. He knows Virgil as Anxiety (which is fairly accurate, though it still minimizes his functions) though he might be more accurately described as caution? fear? an aspect of self preservation? Regardless, perhaps orange could be known as wrath or anger because that's what he manifests as, but that doesn't mean that this is accurate to who he is as an aspect of Thomas. Remus is intrusive thoughts because that is the only way he can get recognized, the only way he breaks through the suppression. Janus is known as deceit because he has to manipulate the other sides to get them to prioritize Thomas's self-interest (as well as his personal responsibility to protect Thomas from what he can't handle at the moment; deceiving himself, sure, but at it's core, preserving his presently fragile mental state).

What emotion, what passion, does thomas repress the most? he's clearly open to expressing love and joy and, more recently, stress and anxiety, even some hints of sadness showing. but what has he been repressing the most? his anger! his frustration! his (and his sides') sense of inadequacy!! Orange is being seen in these contexts because that is what he isn't allowing himself (and the sides) to express as themselves.

Sanders Sides' whole thing is accepting the different parts of yourself, with underlying themes of c!thomas's upbringing causing him to repress, deny, or otherwise have an unhealthy relationship with "bad" aspects of himself (which, boy do i have some ideas for possible explorations of OCD in this, especially with the prevalence of intrusive thoughts- and the ways Thomas and the other sides change their language around Remus to prevent him from "getting ideas"-). Orange could be treated as a character foil to Logan, or Orange could be like Janus, but instead of protecting c!T from things he can't handle, Orange is the result of that suppression. Like how remus formed from thomas (patton) forbidding Roman from having "bad" ideas, orange could be formed from thomas (logan) pushing down "bad" feelings, feelings of passion that don't directly help other people.

Of course, this brings me to how Janus (a "gatekeeper" of sorts for Thomas) would interact with orange. this is reaching more into prediction territory. I suspect that Janus wants orange to emerge, as prolonged repression is harming Thomas (which i'm pretty sure he alluded to at least once, though i'm blanking on when). (also, an aside, is it not concerning that during the christmas special, Janus, c!T's self-preservation, was increasingly inebriated?? ooh and the occasional gags about Logan drinking wine too-) Notice how Janus has been watching Logan? this plus the general willingness to exclude Logan (further pushing his frustration and feelings of inadequacy) makes me suspect that he (as per usual) knows more than the rest.

I... don't really have a conclusion. I think Orange isn't an embodiment of aggression, moreso a result of repression? I guess? And I'm concerned about... yeah everyone involved, but especially Logan and Janus.

[missazurerose]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 9

Lend an ear

 “You know…if I had a single gil for every time a Scion was body snatched, I'd have two gil. Which is certainly not a lot but curious that it's happened twice.” 

“Let's hope we never make it to three gil.”

[agrumina]

[Fullis, Athria and Phae are my Skykids OCs]

Fullis loves the Performance troupe. 

Contrary to all expectations, her favorite is the Musician. Especially considering how badly Athria talked about them. A small part of Fullis wonders if being friends with this Spirit is a way for her to “rebel” against someone she once looked up to.

The Musician seems to take things TOO calmly and the moments they get into some trouble are not uncommon. Fullis has lost count of how many times she has heard the Performance Guide scold them. 

Yet, Fullis likes their company.

They were among the firsts with whom she first experimented with her “new self”, Musician always greets her and always asks her if she wants to practice with them, Musician sometimes starts dancing seemingly at random but it makes Fullis smiles when they do that.

Furthermore, it seems that almost nothing worries Musician. She sometimes envies how much chill they can be. 

But one day, after yet another nightmare about Dark Dragons and the Wasteland and having thought a little too much about the Eye of Eden and Phae’s ramblings about history, Fullis can’t hold back a question.

“Musician, you are dead, aren’t you?” 

She asks them one afternoon, in a (rare) moment where the Hall is empty apart from them and the rest of the crew. 

“Yes?” Musician replies, not hiding their perplexity at this obvious but sudden observation. 

“A bit of a strange question... if I may ask… do you remember how?” 

Musician at first blinks, then chuckles. But it’s not the light chuckle they give when something funny happens in Hall or when they try to hold their laughter while looking at the Guide and Stagehead’s antics.

“Who remembers?” Musician answers, between a nervous? chuckle and another. “I had drank so much I noticed in the very last moment that-“ 

Musician stops suddenly. They frantically look around, like a child who just did something bad and is afraid someone might have seen them, before looking at Fullis back again.

“Um. That’s it. I don’t remember. That is all. Really. Actually, why do you ask such a gloomy question?” 

Fullis doesn’t know how to answer them. She doesn’t even know if she wants to continue the conversation, even if she started it.

[shattered-system]

I’ve seen some art with the line “the future is plural!”

I hope it isn’t.

More systems means more abused kids.

[muzgozjeb]

[motleyfam]

Mocktail

It’s just an act.

The staggering around, the boisterous laughter, the flirtatious comments at passing servers… none of it is real. Bruce is just working the crowd, leaning into that stupid billionaire playboy persona to try and shmooze some information out of one of the other rich bastards here. It’s for a case that he and Robin have been working on—he’d even briefed Jason on the plan prior to their arrival. He’s not actually drunk.

Jason knows that.

Which is why Jason is so pissed at himself that he can’t keep his muscles from tensing up at the familiar boozy scent on his guardian’s breath when he leans in to whisper something in Jason’s ear, can’t stop his hands from instinctively balling into fists at his sides, can’t keep his eyes from darting around, searching desperately for an escape.

Bruce isn’t drunk. Jason knows that.

He knows that.

...So why can’t his body get the goddamn memo?

Bruce must have said something funny because the semicircle of businessmen surrounding him bursts into laughter. One man slaps Bruce jovially on the back, causing Bruce to stumble forwards, sloshing half his drink down the front of his suit and eliciting even more laughter from the group.

It’s the last straw.

Heart hammering, Jason ducks out of the crowd, head down, feet aiming for anywhere that isn’t here. It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid because he’s fine, nothing is wrong, Bruce isn’t even drunk. And even if he were, so what? People get drunk all the fucking time and the vast majority of them manage to keep their fists to themselves, their family’s bank accounts from zeroing out, their tongues from cutting lashes into everyone they love.

He ends up sitting at one of the empty tables near the back of the ballroom, stabbing angrily at a piece of raspberry white chocolate cake with his dessert fork, because he’s Robin for god’s sake, he interacts with drunk people practically every night. Why the fuck is he freaking out now?

“So how’s baby’s first gala?”

Jason glances up, then immediately scowls. “What do you want, Dickhead.”

Dick lets out a low whistle. “Damn. That bad, huh?”

Jason gives him a withering look. “Fuck off.”

“Why?” Dick snorts. “So you can mutilate more raspberries?”

“I’ll mutilate your face…” Jason grumbles, raking his fork through the frosting like some kind of crappy zen garden.

Dick’s grin falters. “Jay,” he says seriously. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No,” Jason snaps. “Go away.”

“Because if someone’s being inappropriate—”

“Nothing fucking happened, okay?!”

“Okay, okay!” He holds his hands up placatingly. “Don’t have to bite my head off.”

“I’m fine,” Jason growls, stabbing at the cake again.

“I can see that,” Dick deadpans.

Jason glares back.

Dick lets out a sigh. “Look, you don’t have to talk to me—”

“No shit.”

“—but there’s a 24-hour froyo place two blocks away.”

Jason blinks. “What.”

“Wanna get out of here?”

There’s a beat.

“...Fine," Jason relents. "But you’re buying.”

[wistfullywaiting2]

Odasaku, Sasaki, and the orphanage headmaster are all buried in the same cemetery.

So Kunikida, Atsushi, and Dazai all run into each other grave visiting regularly and politely pretend they don’t. They never acknowledge the meaning behind the bouquets brought, even if all of them know the others know flower language. They never acknowledge the tear streaks down Atsushi’s face, or the solemn look on Kunikida’s. Atsushi never points out how the scent of whiskey is always a bit stronger on Dazai’s coat. They never acknowledge the location of their accidental meetings.

Sometimes Kunikida might offer to take them to get food, or Atsushi will offer a random hard candy from his pocket, on colder days Dazai might lend his coat. None of them are really themselves when faced with grief, and none of them will to hold it against each other.

[devilboycomic]

The prettiest sinner 🌼

[karamazovposting]

Dostoevsky never mentioned it but I just know Ivan was chain smoking through that whole shitshow

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Hunter (Corporate AU)

- one of Rex's personal bodyguards

- chronically lonely

- slightly more socially adjusted but still treated like shit

(more lore under the cut, cw for themes of drug use/addiction)

- Hunter's childhood years/teens are mostly unchanged here, but instead of bouncing directly to organized crime after gang #3, he ends up alone for some time

- no friends, plenty of enemies, and in a really bad mental place, Hunter started taking one-off jobs as a drug mule to stay afloat. One job resulted in him getting paid with the product he was running, and at that point he was close enough to rock bottom that he said what the hell

- this started a destructive eleven-month cycle of him saying "never again", fighting with himself about it, and then having a shit day and cracking. The periods of self-argument got shorter and shorter with each time he caved

- he met Rex outside a bar purely coincidentally. They wound up having a one-night-stand (Hunter just wanted to sleep somewhere warm)

- later, Rex found him passed out in an alley and called an ambulance for him. In the hospital, he offered to pay the bill if Hunter came to work for him

- he made him get clean before officially taking the job (one of the only decent things he's done). Since then, Hunter's taken up nicotine and drinking as a legal substitution

- Rex isn't the most moral CEO. His bodyguards are there to protect him, yes, but they also act as enforcers and collectors

- he saved Hunter mostly for selfish reasons. He got rebuffed during their first encounter and liked the idea of taking back that control. Plus, having a guard dog who owed him everything sounded very appealing

- anyways my skrunkly boy looks cute all dressed up

[truths33k3r4]

~Indie TMNT Comic Dubs~

( All dubs were recorded and edited by Create2Glorify! )

( All credit for the art and comic goes to @indieyuugure! )

Ninjas in New York Part 1

Ninjas in New York Part 2

Ninjas in New York Part 3

Ninjas in New York Part 4

Ninjas in New York Part 5

Ninjas in New York Part 6

Ninjas in New York Part 7

The News Lady Part 1

The News Lady Part 2

The News Lady Part 3

The News Lady Part 4

The News Lady Part 5

The News Lady Part 6

The News Lady Part 7

Aliens and Mysteries Part 1

Aliens and Mysteries Part 2

Aliens and Mysteries Part 3

Aliens and Mysteries Part 4

Aliens and Mysteries Part 5

Aliens and Mysteries Part 6

Aliens and Mysteries Part 7

Aliens and Mysteries Part 8

Aliens and Mysteries Part 9

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 1

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 2

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 3

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 4

Casey Jones Wuz Here Part 5

THE RED LINKS ARE A WARNING FOR BLOODY/GORE/SCARY CONTENT. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

[levihandynasty]

Girls of The Night

Content warning: Implied sa, sex work (implied?), creepy men. (Be aware, I might have forgotten some, tread with caution)

Word count: 2949

Discord writing challenge: week 5

Prompt: Drunk

AN: I haven't read over this story in its full as I sadly grew tired of it while writing it. I feel that the quality might falter a bit in what I see as the second half. The story also didn't play out the way I planned it, there arw things I wish I had written differently, but I couldn't find the energy or the way to formulate it. There is also a lot that got scrapped that I originally wanted in here. If I ever find the energy to, I might re-write this. Tho, I still hope you take the time to read this version!

A man walked down a familiar Street. Above him flickered lights that barely reached the road he walked, forever damned to living in darkness the man offered this world a gentle scoff, for everything was just as he remembered it. Even after all these years away, the suffocating shadows still felt the same. Perhaps he had hoped it would have found betterment in his absence, for despite all logical thought, he was sure he was cursed to bring misfortune to any land he set foot upon, and every person he dared touch. A fool's wish, it had been. those above Had never cared for those down below, pretending they did not exist was much easier on those few who knew of them. Those rich and wealthy turned their noses away from the stench of poverty, nothing else was to be expected of their kind. Levi Ackerman, humanity's strongest soldier, had not offered a gracing light to the people of his hometown, just as he had assumed many of those in charge had called him a monster, a beast. The military police long seemed nervous about him, ignoring him whenever possible, referring to Erwin only.

Erwins words had been his saving grace, one Levi had not asked for, yet it was his word that had paved the way for Levi to remain in the sun, bask in it as the wind carried the most beautiful smells to his nose. Standing by Erwins side, Levi found a purpose he had never before known he lacked.

Whispers had carried themselves through military headquarters since week one, never dying down. Whispers about Erwin Smith’s new miracle named Levi Ackerman. An underground dog that bites harder than any seen before, but Erwin kept a steady hand on him, they said. By Erwin’s side, this dog did not have to be put down despite its forever bared teeth.

Erwin Smith had created many miracles in his time, the greatest of which being the one that had for a moment allowed Levi to believe he was meant for this earth, that his hand alone did not bring pain and suffering. Levi would be forever convinced that one more could have been made. If Erwin had just listened to him-

A place so filthy should not remind him of that man, with forever watchful eyes, blue as the sky and drowning in curiosity like a cat in a bag. Erwin had been too good to be associated with the lazy filth dying like flies down here, yet he had died just the same.

With Levi unable to do anything to stop it, Erwin had died the same.

The image of his limp body in Forster's grip had not left him alone for even a moment. Every time he closed his eyes he saw and felt as he did that day, trembling hands which clung to a cold syringe felt like they were being pulled by a thread, puppeted by some cruel puppeteer above. Yet he had acted just as he would have expected himself to. Was he at all his own master? Or was he a slave to a god above who found enjoyment in his torment?

Acting exactly as he had expected himself to, Levi had offered his commander peace.

Now lifting his head, Levi attempted to find a breath of fresh air, but all that filled his lungs was the clammy stench of the underground. His shoulders rose and sank as he made effort to calm himself, feeling a certain rage surge through his veins and deep into his gut, he hoped to simply will it away.

He closed his eyes, and once more Erwin's dying body flashed before him, now followed by the defeated expression Levi had bared witness To during their last conversation. “Damn-” Levi clenched his jaw and fists tightly together, forcefully prying his eyes open before the imagined scene of Moblit's last breath managed to taunt him. Hange had explained to him exactly what they had seen, and unlike what people might think of him, humanity's strongest had a vivid imagination, especially for all things grotesque.

“You need a hand, boy?” A woman's voice filled Levi's ears, and as the man followed the sound of her with his eyes, she would approach him.

Each step she took sent her stumbling at least half a step back again. Her breath was laboured and rough, her pale skin covered in bruises, especially remarkable was one around her throat, a near perfect handprint. And In her grasp lay what Levi assumed had been cheap payment for a quick favour. Money is good, but perhaps forgetting was better.

“Do you?” At first he had been ready to fight or flee, women down in the underground were often used for one out of two things, luckily this one seemed to be of the non-dangerous kind.

His assumption was solidified as those weak lanterns laid light upon her face, painting the blob she had formerly been in the dark of that alley- with features he knew, a face he trusted. “Hilde?” his voice sounded uncertain as she threw herself upon him, the force of her body against his own had pushed the wind out of him. She wasn't heavy, the man could easily have wrapped his arm around her and carried her away if he had to, but she was sharp.

Her frame was much smaller than it once had been, and so the man suffered the piercing pain of a blunt hit of a shoulder into his chest.

as he breathed through the pain, Levi's focus was absent. Remaining away until the feeling of her hands upon him carried him through it. “Hey-” the way she had tugged on his pants was lazy and far less than excited. “Don't” her knees had buckled in so she was leaning onto him, offering her full weight to him.

the woman's eyes darted up to his as the words he had spoken managed to break through her drunken mind-fog. “I see~” her voice was weak, but now it seemed to hold some sort of amusement as she pushed away from him, standing up as straight as she could before she began a stumbly walk down the street.

He had no choice but to follow her, he feared with every step she took that the next would be the one to send her face first into the rocks.

“Hey! Slow down!” He followed her a path he had walked a hundred times before, one leading to the place he was born.

“Watch out, that step is broken” the woman swayed as she Strode to avoid the middle step leading up to the brothel. It was the same as always, this place.

Levi quickly moved in to offer the taller woman some support, allowing her to yet again lean onto him as they made their way up the old stairs.

It felt like stepping foot into a whole new world, one that despite its location attempted to hide its filth underneath a thick layer of strong incense and atmospheric candles.

His eyes quickly wandered over the room, there wasn't much more to see here, even if he had the interest In seeing it.

An old man stood some distance away from them, smoking a pipe as dark as the eyes that followed each of Levi's movements, but ignoring the woman he had followed here. Levi knew this man as well, and now knowing he was still around, Levi was happy to follow Hilde to her room, away from him before he got the chance to speak.

The room they stepped into was neglected, each surface carried more dust than Levi could recall ever having seen before. The moisture of the underground had caused it to stick so strictly too, clinging to the Wood so hard Levi had for a moment feared it was mold he was seeing.

“Come” The woman's voice reached his ears once more, he had no more time to waste staring at things that should be fixed, for the woman had grabbed him by the arm and pulled him across the room and towards her bed, the only part of her room that seemed properly used. “You're lucky you're cute” her voice was now coming out as a mumble while she straightened her sheets “cocky, but cute. Don't think I'd agree to bringing just any man to bed, I've got my standards too”

Way too late had Levi remembered how her hands had gripped and groped him earlier on. She had Pulled him down before he had been able to clarify that his objection had not been because of where they were then and there, clarify that he had no interest in her, no intention of purchasing her services.

Once more he felt her hands about him. She had been quick to kneel down before him, one boney hand gripping his thighs for support as the other reached out to unbutton his pants.

He stared down at her hands, unable to move an inch as the fabric gave way for the metallic button that kept his clothes up and on him. His heart beat loudly in his chest, deafening to any feeling or thought he would try to lay focus on. A trembling hand moved towards hers, as Levi's mouth hung open an attempt at pushing out a protest stuck in the back of his throat.

His hand finally met with hers, he had intended to push her away gently, try to make her understand- however his hand met with hers, as she allowed gentle fingers to caress him.

his voice finally let go and escaped him, coming out in a burst that had made her jump. And so Levi was back up on his feet, taking deep lasting breaths to keep himself calm.

He could keep himself calm, but he had no control over the feelings of others. He had no way of preventing the woman on the floor from breaking down into tears where she knelt. And as she began whimpering her apologies, claiming that her beauty was not what it once had been, and asking him what had made him change his mind, Levi found it difficult to speak.

Where she got the idea was easy enough to understand, he was a man, and she was a drunken girl of the night. He didn't have the words to assure her of her beauty and dignity, she looked sickly, and though he could lie, he found no words at all as she continued to cry.

Levi instead remained silent, slowly reaching down to grab a gentle hold of her, shaking his head once as he helped her to bed. She had quickly turned to continue her mournings into the thin pillow, one he was sure had often been the holder of her tears, all her secrets and all her dreams.

He turned his back to her, allowing her to cry as she saw fit. He had found no words of comfort to offer her, but he could still do good by her in another way, even if it would prove futile and be just the same again in a weeks time, he could help her out by cleaning the only place she had to call her own.

She had fallen asleep as Levi worked, leaving him to the mercy of his own mind in the silence, however there was much work to have done, so it seemed that for once, mercy was on his side.

Gripping a chipped cup off of the floor, Levi thought for a moment he caught a whiff of a scent very pleasant to him. Pleasant despite-

“kuchel!” A young Hilde had barged into Kuchel's quarters, her eyes red and body shaking all over. Levi's mother had put her son down, and imidiately turned to open her arms for the younger woman, allowing her into her motherly embrace as she let her cry it out.

Hilde cursed men, sobbed into Kuchel's chest about how cruel they were. She had been beat, even the child on the floor could tell, and the child shared the woman's sentiment, even at his young age.

Hilde had stayed with them til it was no longer possible. Kuchel had been called for, the director had once again needed a word with her. Levi, had promptly been put in Hilde’s arms, left to reach for his darling mother as she walked away from him.

The younger woman was good with children, she had been by Levi's side since he was born and had never showed any annoyance with him. She was the only woman Kuchel dared leave him with, and the only one that could keep Levi silent when it was needed, Putting him to sleep within a makeshift bed within his mothers closet. He was a small child, best that way, easier to hide.

As the man finished cleaning the woman's room, he decided to take his leave. She was sleeping now, curled up much alike how he himself had slept when he was a child. He had nothing more to offer her, so leaving her now was the only thing that felt right, the only thing he could do to avoid further misunderstandings.

“Hey” a voice had called out for him from behind as he reached towards the exit door, a voice that had caused him to freeze. “Levi” amusement painted the voice of that old man. “Finally returning to your roots?”

“What?” Levi turned to the man, shooting him a glare, daring him to go on. What Levi had not expected was for the man to get all up in his face, he had moved way faster than Levi assumed he could, and now he had him cornered right by the door that would have taken him out of there.

“Would you look at that” the man's eyes had began scanning each of Levi's features. he should have pushed past him, should have told him to back away and leave him alone, but just the same as he had when Hilde had been about to show him her tricks, Levi felt as if his body no longer belonged to him, floating through air way too thick to breathe. Even as the man's hand, one stinking of tobacco, had reached for his face, he didn't manage to move an inch, not even his fingers obeyed him.

“Been waiting for you, you know. Always knew you'd end up back here, no matter what you've accomplished up above. Those pricks could never see you as one of them, you'd have to come home one day” his hand was rough, far from gentle as he pat his cheek the same way you'd pat an obedient dog.

Then his thumb, slowly caressing Levi's skin, felt like a fire being set ablaze upon him, burning away what little sense of self and reality had been left with Levi.

The beating banging of his pulse was giving him a headache.

The rough and wrinkled thumb met with Levi’s lips, first at the corner, dwelling there like a snake waiting for its prey. “You always looked like your mother” the man's words now held a far more sinister tone, one that made Levi's stomach turn. “Do you still bite? Levi.” the soldier has seen many deaths in his time, seen guts spill from the humans they belonged to as dying men desperately tried to put themselves together, but this? Humanity’s strangest was certain he would vomit. “It's good behaviour. For a boy to protect his mother the way you did, I think I still got a scar from ya~” Levi could remember now, how he had once sunk his teeth into this man's forearm after he had struck his mother.

“Answer me, do you still bite? boy.” he didn't answer. “Would be a shame if you did, her mouth was always better than her-”

By Erwins side, the dog did not bite.

Erwin wasn't here.

“Boy?” Finally Levi found his voice again. His body felt all calm once more as he moved his head out of the disgusting old man's grasp. “Don't touch me, who knows where you've been” he kept his calm for just a moment longer, but he had no intention of making it last.

A vase of withered flowers stood by the door, Levi had not allowed the man to speak again before the glass object had been broken against his head. He had not allowed him to react, had grabbed the vase way too quick for that.

He had collapsed imidiately, that filthy vermin. His body had given in underneath him and sent him crashing into the shattered glass below, the water the flowers had once stood in, now red upon the wooden floor.

Humanity's strongest stepped over the director, decided to stick around anyway, just for a bit.

Hilde was awoken to the scent of tea, a dark figure standing above her with a tray in its hands. “Kuchel?..” perhaps she had forgotten that her friend was long gone, or perhaps she hoped she had died in her sleep.

“Oh Levi” her tired face lit up as she realised who stood before her, a man she had not before recognised. “My boy, that smells divine. where did you find that?”

He answered her only with a hum as he sat down besides her.

“Thank you” she whispered, taking her cup from the tray on his lap. “For refusing me, I apologise dear.. I have no clue what came over me, don't ever think I'd forget you, kid” from her, as before, he let it pass. “You look good, Levi. Your mother would be so proud of you.”

“... thanks.”

[ashdoeswhump]

Tws: abuse, implied noncon, non-sexual nudity, blood mention, restraints, alcohol

Some summer whump ideas for you:

Whumpee is forced to lie out in the sun for hours without sunscreen or even clothes as punishment. Their skin burns and peels. Maybe they were tied down, so they have stark white lines cutting through the red.

Whumpee is made to wear a long sleeved shirt and long jeans while working. They're covered in sweat, and whumper tells them how gross they are, how filthy and smelly and sticky.

Whumpee is the guest of honour at whumper's pool party, wearing a revealing bikini/speedo for the guests to coo over and stare at. Whumper's friends force them to drink alcohol on an empty stomach, to dance for them, to go in the water where no one can see the guests' straying hands.

Whumpee's cell has awful insulation, so all the sweltering heat comes in. Salty sweat mixing in with the tears and blood. Maybe they're in a stress position, their muscles already burning from exertion, the heat just making everything worse.

[muzgozjeb]

[jokerislandgirl32]

Ziolet Songs: Day Four

Day 4 - Sparks Fly

Get me with those green eyes, baby As the lights go down Gimme something that'll haunt me when you're not around 'Cause I see sparks fly, whenever you smile

My mind forgets to remind me you're a bad idea You touch me once and it's really something You find I'm even better than you imagined I would be I'm on my guard for the rest of the world But with you, I know it's no good And I could wait patiently But I really wish you would

Posting this a day late, but oh well!

Since yesterday was my birthday I decided to include a fic excerpt from one of Violet’s birthdays! It’s either her 19th or 20th birthday, I haven’t decided yet. But I hope you all enjoy it! Putting it below the cut due to length and mentions of alcohol consumption, a few crude comments, and references to a toxic relationship.

I had barely opened the menu when the sound of people singing happy birthday caught my attention. I looked into the restaurant, and saw the girl I was looking for: my Violet. 

Violet’s long hair was pulled back in a braid, and she was dressed in a simple off-the-shoulder, lilac sundress with a black apron around her waist. She smiled and blushed as her family and the patrons of the restaurant sang happy birthday to her.

The waitress in front of me huffed and rolled her eyes. I sensed she did not like Violet very much, and I was more than ready to get rid of her, “I know what I want,” I announced. 

She pulled out a notepad and looked at me expectantly, I fished out my wallet and produced a $20 bill, “I want the birthday girl to serve me, here’s something for your time.”

The girl’s brown eyes widened, and she stuffed the bill into her apron pocket, “of course, thank you, I’ll go get her!”

VvvvvvVvvvvvV

I was busy thanking everyone for the impromptu birthday song when Nicole ran up to me out of breath, “I’ve got a customer for you, he’s a very good tipper, he just gave me 20 dollars to seat him, and he requested you!”

Nicole usually did not speak to me because she claimed I’d stolen Travis from her, which was far from the truth. I figured she was setting me up for embarrassment, but part of me was hopeful that there really was a customer who wanted me to be their waitress. 

I smiled and said, “okay, here’s to hoping he tips me well too!”

“Yeah, you can treat yourself to a nice birthday present,” my cousin Paige winked at me, having overheard the conversation. 

“I guess,” I whispered, fixing my hair and going to the table where the gentleman was seated. 

When I arrived he sat holding the menu up, covering his face, “good evening sir, can I start you off with something to drink?”

He responded in a gruff, hateful sounding voice, “do you recommend anything? I usually prefer alcohol, but there’s none listed. What type of an island restaurant is this if you can’t get alcohol?”

I felt taken aback by his comment, “I apologize sir, but it is the preference of the owner of the restaurant to not serve alcohol.”

“Why’s that? Is she a prude?” He snickered and something about his voice was oddly familiar. I stood on my toes to peer over the menu covering his face, but he held it closer to him and raised it slightly.

I tried to bite my tongue, but it was no use, I would not stand for whoever this was insulting the aunt who had practically raised me, “Sir, I respectfully disagree with you, the owner is my aunt, and she prefers to host a restaurant where good food and fun can be had without the negative impacts that result from alcoholic consumption. If that is a problem with you, you can go to a neighboring restaurant or bar that does serve alcohol.”

“Ohhh, that’s a bold statement, but I should expect it coming from a sexy little minx such as yourself,” I could hear the laugh in his voice, and I’d had enough. It was one thing for Travis to make crude comments about me, but this man was a stranger, this was unexceptable. 

“Sir, I am sorry, but I do not appreciate your comments. They are making me very uncomfortable. If you cannot refrain from saying such things, I will have to ask you to leave.”

“Awww, come on, you can’t ask your friend to leave,” he pouted, lowering the menu enough for me to see jet black hair. 

The gears in my mind started turning, who did I know with black hair? And before I could stop myself, I asked, “who are you?”

The man lowered the menu and took off a pair of triangular sunglasses at the same time, his voice returning to normal, to a voice I'd wanted to hear for so long, “happy birthday, Vi.”

I felt a few tears fall from my eyes as I looked at his smiling face. I approached him and he stood up quickly, gathering me into a hug without me initiating it. I threw my arms around his neck as his head fell to the crook of my neck, “I’m so happy to see you, Zach,” I whispered.

[golden--goofball]

tpc reality au art under the cut (iris' ref sheet)

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