#so I threw it into my queue and here it is

[dmmdconfessions]

[Image text: I feel kind of uncomfortable playing Koujaku's sex scenes because he reminds me of my hijabi aunt, for some reason.]

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Anger Issues, Part 2

Glass Shards

Warnings: A bit of drowning, but mostly it's angst central

I heard someone wanted a different pov on this? 👀

Previous | Masterlist

Only once before had Valadan run this fast—carrying Josephine’s mangled body. And just like back then, he didn’t know if the person he was trying to save was still alive. As his feet hammered against the ground, the thoughts hammered in his head: What if he was too late? 

He arrived at the harbor in a matter of minutes, only for new despair to wash over him. There was no trace of Damien, and the quay was so fucking long, and the water was so fucking dark. He ran on, his steps unsteady now as he was equally scared of missing the tiniest sign of Damien as he was of being too slow.

There was… something. Valadan wheezed, speeding up while staring down at the water. Ripples on the surface, barely discernible between the soft movement of the waves. A few bubbles of air, so insignificant they could have come from anything; a fish or a fucking piece of seaweed.

Valadan came to a stop, propping his hands on his thighs as he desperately tried to catch his breath. He looked back the way he had come from and squinted further ahead, attempting to make out whether there was any other sign of life, unnatural movement, anything. He had only this one chance. He wasn’t afraid of drowning himself, but if he was wrong, he’d never make it back to shore for another try in time. 

Please let me be right.

Valadan jumped off the quay, diving headfirst into the ocean.

Fuck. It was colder than he had expected, and his clothes, instantly soaked, hindered the movement of his limbs. He forced his eyes to open against the burning of the water. It was just as dark as he had expected, and he was so out of breath from his run, his lungs already felt like they were about to collapse.

Fighting every instinct screaming for him to surface, he dove deeper. He had mere seconds. Even if he was at the right spot, if he didn’t find Damien before he had to swim up for air, he would never see him again.

Please please please please.

There was a shape. A shadow. Valadan kicked his legs, pushing on. With the next swimming motion, his hand slammed against something too soft yet solid to belong underwater. He grabbed it, digging his fingers into it. He couldn’t see anything, but it had to be Damien. It had to be.

The moment Valadan broke through the surface, he started to gasp for breath, then cough as he inhaled water. Lunging at the wall, he closed his fingers around one of the algae covered metal rings used to secure the ships during high tide. He tried to pull Damien higher, but he couldn’t just keep holding onto his neck. Steadying him with his legs to keep him from sinking, Valadan let go, grabbing his arm instead. It was good enough, for now.

Valadan looked up to the quay, and then along the wall. It curved slightly, and swimming directly to the shore would take less time—if he could make it. He had to make it. He had to get Damien out of the water. 

“Hold on,” Valadan said.

He let go of the ring and pushed himself away from the wall. Damien was dead weight in his grip, and his own soaked clothes didn’t make swimming easy. Sheer determination kept him moving, ignoring the burning in his muscles. He wasn’t going to let his brother die.

I got you. Just hold on. I’ll save you.

The moment he had finished the thought, Damien started to panic. Valadan didn’t have the breath to talk to him, and it was unlikely Damien would have heard him anyway. He struggled against Valadan’s grip, kicking his legs and raising his arm to try and push Valadan away. At first, Valadan tried to ignore it, only focusing on getting back to shore as soon as possible. But when the hand slammed against his nose, the burst of pain made bright spots dance in front of his eyes.

Valadan stopped swimming, treading water instead as he caught the hand trying to get in another blow. He pinned it to Damien’s chest, holding his wrist with the same arm he wrapped around his neck, so he could continue swimming with his free arm. Damien kept struggling for a few more moments, a distressed noise leaving his lips as he realized he couldn’t free his arm. His body went limp, and while it made the rescue that much easier, it also broke Valadan’s heart.

Hold on, Dami. We’re almost there.

The moment Valadan’s boots met sand, he pushed himself to his feet. The water made it easier for him to pull Damien along, at least until it became too shallow. When he had to drag him across the sand, Damien came to life as well. His movements weren’t of much help, but they at least showed Valadan that he was still aware.

The moment they were far enough from the water, Valadan had to let go. His arms lost all strength, his legs crumpling under him. Damien dropped down next to him, barely keeping himself up with his fingers digging into the sand. When he started to heave, Valadan put his arm around his back. Holding Damien, knowing that he had been mere seconds away from losing him forever, nothing mattered anymore. Not the words spoken in Caldeia a decade ago. Not the threats shouted in Raqhar a year ago. 

He had to fix this. Them. He had to. He had known it the moment he had turned his back on Damien in the ambassador’s camp. He had known it in those days, walking in a haze until the letter from Caldeia had arrived, telling him about Damien’s escape. 

Losing his brother would destroy him.

“I got you, Dami. I got you.”

At the sound of his voice, Damien pushed himself up with his trembling arm. He looked at Valadan, his expression somewhere between despair and disbelief. When Damien started to cough again, Valadan pulled him closer. Damien clung to him, digging his fingers into his arm, as if the sea could reach for him and drag him under if he let go.

“M-merry?”

It took Valadan a moment to understand the stammered name, but when he did, he cursed himself. Of course, the last time Damien had seen her, she had been dying. 

“She’s fine,” he hurried to say. “She’s awake. Elijah healed her.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did, Damien broke down crying. Valadan wrapped his arms around him, holding him. He wanted to hold him forever, but he had to bring him home before he froze to death.

“You’re freezing,” he said, his own teeth chattering. “We need to get you back to the house.”

When Damien nodded, Valadan pulled him to his feet. His brother clung to him, with the desperate grip of a person who should be too weak to hold on, but wouldn’t make it a single step unaided. 

Every time Damien sank to his knees, shaking to his core and coughing his lungs out, Valadan noticed more details. The bruises on Damien’s face were his fault, but he didn’t look healthy under them. It was hard to make out through the soaked clothes, but he seemed to be thinner than ever. Perhaps it was the changed outline from the missing arm, but Valadan didn’t believe it. When Damien wasn’t shaken by coughs, his whole posture made him even smaller than he was.

He just looked like less, in every way. As if he could vanish if Valadan let go of him, turned his gaze away for just one second. Every whispered assurance was a promise, not only to get him safely back to the house, but also to keep him safe. It was a wild, desperate hope that wouldn’t last long against reality—the fact that Valadan had almost killed his brother’s whatever-the-fuck-she-was, and how they had barely been able to have civil conversation since before their father had died.

Not that there was much of a conversation to be had; not yet, at least. The moment they reached the house, the woman ran at Damien, throwing her arms around him, and Valadan retreated quietly. He had to change out of his soaked clothes, which would give him a moment to gather his thoughts.

Halfway up the stairs, he realized that he had left the two alone with Josephine, without hesitation. Not that either of them was a threat right now—not in their condition. Still, he hurried to pull off the wet clothes, only putting on new pants before he made his way back to the stairs. The fabric stuck to his wet skin, so he was still fighting with his shirt by the time he walked down. 

Whatever had happened while he had been upstairs, at least the situation didn’t seem to be any worse. Damien clung to the woman, looking like he was mere seconds away from collapsing.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Let’s go.”

“What?” Valadan froze, holding the sleeve of his shirt instead of slipping into it. What the fuck had he missed? “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Please.” Damien’s voice was trembling. The look he gave him. Wide-eyed. Pleading. He was afraid. Afraid of him. “Please, let us go.”

“Dami…” 

Perhaps that was their curse. Always hurting each other, always afraid of each other. 

Valadan turned around, unwilling to let anyone see the tears in his eyes. “Josephine will show you the guest room,” he said, his back towards them. He had to keep his voice steady, for a few more seconds. “You can have some of my clothes. I’ll get them.”

He fled back up the stairs and into the master bedroom, only taking the time to put on his shirt properly once he had closed the door behind him. Fuck fuck fuck. He was losing it, and he couldn’t afford to. He didn’t know whether Josephine would agree to letting them stay, but by Duriath, he couldn’t bear to let his brother go. Not yet. Not like this.

Not as long as there was the smallest chance of fixing this.

Valadan opened the chest holding his clothes, taking out a pair of pants, a shirt and some socks. They probably needed something to dry and clean themselves, so he also grabbed a stack of cloths waiting to be folded since the last laundry. 

Already halfway back to the door, he remembered that the woman hadn’t looked too stellar, either; what was left of her shirt barely counted as decent. He turned around to grab a second shirt, one he knew was slightly smaller than the others, before leaving the room for good. 

He could already hear footsteps on the stairs, so he hurried to the guest room, dropping the pile of fabric on the bed before retreating unseen. With his back against the closed bedroom door, he listened to the muffled voices outside, not bothering to try and understand them. 

After a while, a single pair of feet approached the bedroom, pausing outside.

“Danny?” Josephine still called him by his nickname. She couldn’t be too angry with his decision then. “Would you help me, please?”

Of course he would. Valadan stepped out of the room, as if he hadn’t been crying behind the door a moment ago, and Josephine gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen, as if she hadn’t noticed it. 

She filled a bowl with warm water, and two cups with tea she must have brewed before Damien had knocked on their door. It couldn’t have been much more than what, an hour ago? It felt like a lifetime.

When Josephine took the bowl, Valadan picked up the cups, following her up the stairs once more. His legs barely carried him. He definitely wouldn’t make it much longer without collapsing.

While Josephine entered the guest room, Valadan stayed outside. He couldn’t face them. Not yet. He needed to gather his thoughts. To process what had happened. To think about what he was going to do—for once. 

Most of all, he needed to talk to his wife, before he made any other decisions on his own.

Josephine poked her head out the door, giving him a questioning look. She must have seen the answer on his face, though, for she approached him wordlessly and took the cups from him. Valadan didn’t wait for her to return, he turned around and walked into the bedroom, sitting down heavily on the bed.

His gaze wandered to the crib in the corner. It was a miracle Christian was still sleeping; had slept through it all. He had his own room, but those last weeks, he had slept fitfully, and they had put his crib in the master bedroom. Now, it would make it so much easier to lock the door without waking him, because no matter the emotions warring inside him, Valadan was not going to let his kid out of his sight while Damien was in the house.

When Josephine joined him several minutes later, she must have had a similar thought. She locked the door, leaning against it with her back.

“What the fuck,” she muttered.

A laugh burst out of Valadan’s chest, quickly followed by a sob. He couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, but he tried his best to be quiet, to not wake his son. Josephine walked over to the bed, sitting down next to him and putting her arm around his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “What does he want? 

“I don’t know.”

He didn’t know why the fuck his brother had come here, who this woman was. All he knew was that he had almost fucked it up, for good this time. He could have killed them both. 

“I don’t know. I don’t… I don’t know.”

Josephine sighed, pressing his head against her chest. “Guess we’ll have to find out tomorrow.” If she wanted to scold him for inviting them to stay without asking her, she did a good job at hiding it.

“You know,” she said, running her fingers through Valadan’s hair. “He’s not like I imagined him from what you told me. At all. I can’t see him attacking someone.”

Neither could Valadan, if he was honest. Perhaps he had clung to the memory of Damien’s rage, to the illusion he did what he had to to protect his family, so the knowledge he had left his brother behind to die wouldn’t destroy him.

“Tell me about him,” Josephine said when Valadan remained quiet. “What happened between you? I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I’m trying to understand.”

Not liking to talk about it was an understatement, but didn’t she have a right to know? 

“You know my father—” Was useless. A drunkard. Hated me. All those words were on Valadan’s lips, yet none left them. Instead, he said, “Damien was… He was my whole family. He took care of me. He protected me. He loved me. Everything I am, I owe to him, and I… he was breaking apart, trying to keep us afloat. I wanted to help, to be better, but I…” Valadan stared at his hands. How often had he promised himself to turn his life around, only to fail at the next possible moment? “I couldn’t. I fucked up, over and over again, and that day… I came home, completely wasted, and we fought, and he said…” Valadan’s voice broke. So many years had passed, and the words still stung; because they were true. “Doesn’t matter what he said. I was hurt, and I left, and I just… I didn’t return. I just didn’t.”

He couldn’t even say anymore what exactly had kept him away; the anger had faded, as it always did, but a part of him had been convinced Damien was better off without him. Without his useless brother to take care of, without an additional mouth to feed when he was already struggling.

“I signed up with the first group of mercenaries I could find, and the rest…” His smile was forced, but the look he gave Josephine soft. If he hadn’t done that, if he hadn’t stumbled from one group to the next, ending up working for the Order of Fire, he would never have met her. “I never knew what became of him. I thought he had changed. To join the rebels, to become the Nightmare. But today… I saw him. Just him.”

Beneath all the layers of fear and hate and distrust, Damien was still his brother. Whatever the fuck had been going on in Raqhar, the man he had dragged out of the water had been a broken shadow of his former self.

Josephine kissed his forehead. “What do you want to do now?” she asked.

Valadan wanted to wrap his arms around Damien, to hold him and promise him he was safe. He wanted to show him how he had turned his life around, how after all those years Damien could finally be proud of him. He wanted to have his brother back, as selfish as it was.

“I don’t want to lose him,” he whispered, staring blankly ahead. 

The memory of his brother’s anger had all but vanished, replaced by the fear and despair he had seen in his gaze. Not a single one of Damien’s actions had been that of a man planning to attack. No; right now, Valadan had the distinct feeling that he was the only dangerous person in this house.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” he said, curling his hands into the bedspread. Hands that hurt those closest to him, over and over again, because he didn’t have his fucking temper under control. 

Perhaps he could rent a room in an inn for them, buy himself some time to try and fix this. The relief over having a plan only lasted for a moment before Valadan flinched. Fuck. The men had recognized Damien, and he was still a wanted criminal. He’d be in danger from the moment he set a foot outside the door. 

“Can they—” Valadan’s voice failed him as his fear choked him. What if he was wrong? What if he put his wife and child in danger? “Can they stay for a few days?” he asked, his voice small. “If they even want to,” he added, “and if they promise they mean no harm?”

“I know this is terribly unwise of me,” Josephine started, a forced smile lifting the corners of her mouth, “but I’ll trust your judgment. For now. Not like either of them looked overly dangerous when I left them.” She nodded in the direction of the guest room. “They could barely stand.”

Valadan’s throat was almost too tight for him to speak. He swallowed against the rising tears, willing his body to stop trembling. A moment later, for either of them, and he’d have their blood on his hands now.

“Thank you,” he choked out.

“Shh. It’s okay.” Josephine pressed a kiss on the top of his head, before leaning against him, holding him tight. “We’ll figure it out together.”

[ID: The top image is a banner covered in colorful glass shards. Across it is written the title of the story, glass shards, in a white to bright cyan gradient with a black outline. The font looks like written with a broad paintbrush. All other images in this post are purely ornamental lines. End ID.]

@dont-touch-my-soup @starrysky-whumpfics @kixngiggles @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @honeycollectswhump

[mythvoiced]

-. evil evil thought demons are wondering if i'd like to move Patrick (from @ashbtten) back to this here shitshow and if i should change his live action fc to h.ug.h d.an.cy while i'm at it

[somewherebetweenrage]

What Is It You Want From Love?

passion you need someone that makes you come alive, sets your soul on fire and whose touch feels like it sears your skin (like, in a good way.) the way you love is all consuming and sometimes it’s terrifying, but you can’t wait to give all of yourself to someone else. to open yourself up completely and for them to hold your soul in their hands is what love means to you. the only thing you want separating you and your partner is your skin, so naturally you turn to worshipping that very skin in hopes that the way you love will go deeper than what you touch and that they’ll know exactly how far you’d go to keep this fire alive.

Tagged by: stolen from @acertainfemininemystique​ like forever ago​​ Tagging: @defectivexfragmented​ , @itsybitsypeterparker​ , @wcrriorhearts​ , @shieldretired​ , @outlawiism​ & anyone else who wants <3

[galariangengar]

💭

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🛹] DISCIPLINE: SKATEBOARDING

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers(ish), introverted reader, vernon being the greenest flag of them all PAIRING: skateboarder!vernon x athlete!fem reader WARNINGS: explicit language and a couple of sexist comments WORD COUNT: 3.1 k

“not the anti-sex beds again,” katie groaned, like it was the end of the world.   

rolling your eyes, you threw your duffle bags on the bed next to the window. though, as dramatic as she could get sometimes, and as much as you couldn’t wait for the games to begin - you were not looking towards sleeping on the cardboard monstrosities. the amount of massages you had to get four years ago because of them was not something you’d like to go through again.

“it’s not like you’re going to have sex anyway,” sam nudged katie with her shoulder and threw her own stuff on the bed next to yours.

“i’m not talking about myself, stupid,” katie said. “our friend over here,” she put her arms around you and squeezed your shoulders, “needs to get laid. she almost managed to bang that rugby dude the last time, and i can feel it in my bones,” she took a deep breath, ”she’s going to succeed this year.” 

you tried shoving her away, as sam erupted in a loud laugh. 

“hah hah, very funny,” you mumbled, and flicked katie’s forehead. “i’m here to win medals, not to find a hookup.”  

“mhm, sure,” sam said. “we’ll see about that.”

the next morning you stood up with the first rays of sunshine, a lot earlier than most people in the village, with a plan to make the most of your only day off before the eliminations. it’d get crowded quickly, so you figured it’d be nice to soak in the surroundings without hundreds of people bumping into each other. you didn’t bother to wake the girls up - you were eternally grateful you could share this amazing adventure with them, but you needed some time alone. 

besides, there was a 99% probability that sam would skin you alive if you tried cutting her beauty sleep short. 

before leaving the building, you managed, to your delight, to find the gym and the swimming pool, which surely would become really handy in a couple of days. then, you found a small farmacy a couple of blocks away, and a post office where you took a couple of pictures in a photobooth and wrote short letters to your friends at home, before throwing them into the mailbox. 

though the streets were starting to get busier and busier, because well - the athletes, their trainers, the volunteers, staff - everyone wanted to see what this year’s host had to offer, it was still pleasantly peaceful, and you could enjoy your time alone to the fullest. and apart from the cardboard beds, the village was so nice. the purple colours especially. 

just as you turned around the corner of south korea’s apartment complex, you felt and heard your tummy rumble, and thatwas your cue to find the dining hall. fortunately, it didn’t take you long. apart from the big ass signs with “dining hall”written all over them, most people that you passed were walking in one direction, which could only mean one thing.

after a short while, you entered the big room, all purple and pretty, already filled with hundreds of athletes and staff. 

scanning around the huge hall, you tried looking for someone, anyone you knew, but to no avail. most of the tables were already taken, but somehow, to your misfortune, none of them were taken by anyone from your country. you sighed and twisted the pendant hanging around your neck, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you’d be forced to sit at a table with people you did not know. 

there went your peaceful morning. 

without wasting more time, and before you’d completely spiral over the lack of familiar faces, you picked up a plate and cutlery and made your way to the queue for food, standing behind two chinese athletes. 

the line moved slowly, but you didn’t mind. as much as you weren’t particularly overjoyed with the loud noise and chaos, it was nice to do some people-watching. the different races, heights and widths, cultures, languages - all within one building - that had to be one of your favourite things about olympics. 

“isn’t that the chick kyle fucked last time?” suddenly a male voice pulled you out of your thoughts, as if your brain knew that the comment was direct to you. drowning out the noise around you, you tried your best to focus on the people behind you. 

“he didn’t fuck her, she ran away the second he touched her tits,” another guy said. “fucking prude,” he snickered. 

you felt your cheeks heat up - in embarrassment because you were right there, and they knew you could hear them, but also in anger because what they were saying was just not true. 

“i told him to go for the track runner, she had a better ass anyways,” the first guy said, as the other laughed. 

comments like these were nothing new. men like these were nothing new, but it didn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful. worst part was that you’d let them, you wouldn’t stop them - you couldn’t. anytime you tried standing up for yourself you felt at loss for words, your throat closed up, and your mind went blank. 

“excuse me, guys,” a new voice joined in. “the last time i checked this was the olympics, not who has a better ass competition.” 

you didn’t have the nerve to turn around to see who that new voice belonged to. you just clenched and unclenched your fists, trying to control your breathing. 

“also if i may suggest one thing-,” 

“you may not-,” 

“you may want to check out your own ass… or the lack of it,” you could hear the smile in his voice. 

the two guys grumbled something and left the line, but not before one of them bumped into you with too much force for it to be just an accident. muttering a curse under your breath, you massaged your slightly sore arm and prayed to whatever force for the two fuckers not to pass their eliminations. 

“are you okay?” you could feel the guy's breath on your neck. 

fuck, now you had no other choice but to acknowledge what had just happened. if it was up to you, you’d happily skip breakfast and run back to your room. who would’ve thought that the cardboard bed would be the equivalent of a safe haven. 

“uh,” you took a shaky inhale, “i’m okay.” 

“just turn around, smile politely, thank for the help, and move on,” you thought. but as you did that, your eyes went wide, and your breath hitched in your throat. 

you found a set of hazel brown eyes looking at you with curiosity and a tad of softness as if asking a silent question if you were really okay, a kind smile that managed to calm your pounding heart on its own, and cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink as if he had just finished his morning run. the guy couldn’t be much older than you and was the perfect height. you didn’t have to tilt your head in an uncomfortable way to look him in the eye, and he didn’t have to look down at you as if you were a dwarf. 

his dark brown hair was hidden under a beanie, and despite the oversized shirt and shorts, you could make out his lean build, which made him stand out from the other bulky men around. you quickly figured he was part of the us team by his outfit, but you couldn’t rack your brains around what type of sport he could be doing. 

he looked so… laid back compared to everyone around.  

“are you sure?” he asked, his gaze still attentive to you and you only. 

you nodded your head. “sorry you had to listen to that,” you said. 

“i’m sorry you had to listen to that,” the guy muttered. “you know those dudes are total douchebags, right?” annoyance flashed across his face for a second, “people like them shouldn’t even be here and-,”

“it’s okay, really,” you said with a stern voice, cutting him short. grateful - that’s what you were - and it was really nice of him to stand up for you, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he saw you as nothing more than a weakling that couldn’t even stand up for herself. and that had to be more embarrassing than the comments.  

he must’ve noticed your sour expression, because he quickly said, “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“you didn’t, i… i’m sorry for snapping at you,” god, you really messed this up. this gorgeous boy just saved your ass from getting harassed, and you were acting like an ungrateful bitch. “i’m just not the best at dealing with… whatever that was,” you cleared your throat. “but thank you, it was really kind of you, and you didn’t really have to say anything, but-,” 

“but i would’ve been the biggest asshole if i hadn’t said anything,” he chuckled, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “i couldn’t just let those two fuckers say those things about you. about anyone for that matter. what kind of person would that make me?” 

you nodded, though if you had to be real - you were too distracted by his eyes to focus on what he was saying.

“okay, that sounded so pretentious,” he said, frowning, as if cringing at his own words. you couldn’t help but giggle at his expression. he looked really adorable despite his disgusted look. 

and that didn’t mean anything good. you knew yourself, and you knew how easily it was for you to fall for a person that showed you an ounce of kindness, even if they did it just because they were a good person. and that was probably what was happening now - he saw you getting harassed, he stepped in, said a couple of words, and that would be it. 

but you. you’d think about this for the rest of the olympics. about his teasing voice, the slightly curly hair coming out of his beanie, the fact that you’d never know what kind of athlete he was. the freaking hazel eyes. 

“i’m vernon, by the way,” he, or vernon, extended his hand. 

you cringed at the thought of your sweaty palms, still closed in fists. and it wasn’t like you could wipe them right in front of him. now that would just send you straight into a coma. but you took it anyway, it couldn’t get worse than the comments about your flat ass, you figured. and if he noticed he didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded when you told him your name. 

“so, do you have any plans for today?” he asked, letting go of your hand way too soon for your liking. 

“i was planning on eating breakfast, but…,” you shrugged. 

“well, i might have an idea then,” he said, a proud smile on his face. “have you ever tried skateboarding?” 

…

you did not think this through. 

trying to skate on a wooden board with four wheels sounded kind of appealing at the moment, but now - now that you were about to actually stand on it? huh yeah, you’d rather stick to keeping your own two feet on the ground.

“it’s not going to kill you, you know?” vernon laughed, as you looked at the board in front of you with pure horror. there was no way anyone could survive skating on that thing, let alone doing tricks and flips or whatever they did with that torture device.  

“just,” he pulled the board closer to you with his foot, “lean your weight on me first and i’m going to hold you, just so you can get comfortable standing on it,” he said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

would he think you were a complete loser if you ran away? maybe you could blame it on a sudden stomach bug or something. 

“mhm, yeah,” you breathed, grabbing his extended hand. “easy peasy.” 

luckly for you, the skatepark was still relatively empty since most of the village was trying to fight others in the queue for food, so the chance of you skating into someone by accident was almost non existent. but that did not change the fact that you were on the verge of a panic attack. why did you say yes to this? why did you step out of your comfort zone so easily? comfort zone was good - you loved your comfort zone. that was what kept you safe from agreeing to skateboarding on a whim. 

but it was so easy to say yes when vernon looked at you with so much kindness. you just weren’t able to decline - there was something about him that put you at ease, whether it was his voice or mannerisms - he oozed with so much calmness that even your erratic heart was screaming “say yes!” 

“put your right foot in front of the left one,” he said, still grasping your hand tightly. “and keep your knees bent, it’ll help with keeping your balance.” 

you watched him as he showed you how you were supposed to stand correctly, and tried to mirror his stance the best you could. 

“that’s perfect,” vernon said with a bright smile, as if you just won the gold medal for not falling off the board on the first occasion. “told you you’d do a great job.” 

“this is ridiculous,” you muttered, as your legs wobbled. “i’m looking worse than a baby trying to walk.” 

he rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, making you giggle. “i love your form of self motivation. now,” still holding onto you, vernon walked around the board, “uh, is it okay if i put my hand on your waist?” he asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

usually, you’d immediately say no, but… there was nothing usual about vernon as it turned out. if this was your day of breaking your walls then so be it. you nodded in agreement. “try to put your left foot on the ground and push yourself forward,” he said. 

your thin t-shirt did nothing to conceal the warmth coming from vernon’s hand, but somehow, instead of making you more nervous, it only calmed your wobbling feet and shaking hands, grounding you on the board, making it less scary by the second. you’d never met anyone before who had been so gentle with you, so patient and understanding so quickly. 

“like this?” you took your left foot off the skateboard, but before it could reach the ground you wobbled backwards. “vernon!” you shrieked, ready to fall ass first on the asphalt, but that never happened. your back met his solid chest before you could move more than an inch. 

“‘s okay,” he said, gripping your waist tighter. “i’m right here.” 

you breathed a sigh of relief. “i don’t think this is a good idea,” you looked over your shoulder at him. “what if i break your board?” 

“i have ten others,” he stated as a matter of fact, not bothered at all even if you actually broke his board. “try again, i’ve got you.” 

the next try went a little bit better, at least you managed to put your foot down without bumping into him again.

“okay, now push yourself forward.” 

“just… don’t let go, okay?” 

“i won’t,” vernon said. you could feel him so close to you, his breath creeping down your neck. “i won’t.” 

you never thought you’d feel so accomplished by such a simple thing, you were a gold winning athlete for god’s sake, but when you finally moved, when the board skated forward and you were still standing on it - you felt a flicker of pride settle in your chest.  

“that’s it,” vernon said, giving your hand a squeeze. “you’re doing great. try doing that again.” 

and so you did just that. you pushed yourself forward, again and again, until your feet weren’t wobbling at all, and your moves were getting more confident.

“i’m doing it, i’m…,” you laughed, “vernon, i’m skateboarding,” you said, pushing once more. 

“yes, you are!” 

wait. why was his voice so distant? 

that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel his hand on your waist anymore, nor were your fingers intertwined with his. 

“vernon?” you asked, alarmed. 

“just don’t turn around-,” 

but it was too late. you took a look behind you to see vernon standing a couple of metres behind you, and that was enough to lose all of the balance, all of the control. 

“shit,” you heard him scream, right before you closed your eyes shut, readying yourself for the impact. 

the board flew forward as you slipped backwards, your hands flying to your slides trying to hold onto something. but there was nothing, just air. 

but then - the strong grip, the warm embrace, the hands that you trusted so much - you could feel him all around you. no pain, no broken bones - just vernon. 

“shit, i’m so sorry,” he said, still holding onto you. “i shouldn’t have let you go.” 

gently, he helped you sit on the ground, his eyes scanning all over your body, looking for any injuries. 

“it’s fine, i just panicked,” you said, and put your hand on his shoulder, pulling his gaze back to your eyes. “seriously, it was actually quite fun.” 

at that, vernon’s expression softened a bit, and after a second he even flashed you a smile. 

“that’s good, that’s…,” he exhaled. “that’s a lot for one morning i think.” 

you laughed, and shook your head. “yeah, i think you’re right. but you know,” you looked over at the board that was still rolling on its own. “i think i’ll stick to watching you skate. i don’t think i’m built for this.” 

his body shook with a silent giggle. “i’m still proud of you.”

“thank you,” you said quietly. and you truly meant it - not only for catching you, or trying to teach you how to skate - but for standing up for you when he could just ignore it and move on with his day, for pulling you out of your little safe bubble. that thank you meant a lot of things and you hoped that vernon knew that. 

“were you serious, though?” 

you frowned, not really sure what he ment. 

“that you want to watch me skate?”. 

any other day you’d say no, but… 

“yes. i’d really love to.” 

a beautiful smile bloomed on vernon’s face, and you knew right there and then that the feeling of gratitude was forming into something more than just that. 

“my eliminations are in two days, uh and maybe, only if you want, you could come?” 

you nodded eagerly. at this point you weren’t sure you were able to tell this man no at all. 

and you couldn’t wait to see where that would get you. 

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie threw an arm over Steve's shoulder, bringing him into a half-hug, “So, what did you guys think?”

“It was great!” Steve said quickly, relaxing into Eddie’s side, “You guys killed it, dude!”

“He’s right,” Robin agreed, “It was awesome! Super, duper fun and we’re so glad we got to see it. But actually, we kinda got to go-”

Eddie frowned, the loose grip he had over Steve’s shoulder tightening on it’s own accord, “Go where? Don’t tell me you guys are tired already?”

For some reason, Robin didn’t look at him after he asked the question. Instead she looked to Steve, a brow raised as she waited for something. But then Steve was giving her a subtle nod, her queue to start talking again. She leaned in closer, whispering as loud as she could in the noisy environment, “So… you’re like cool, right? Steve said you were cool.”

Eddie cocked his head at her, beyond confused, “I-yes? I guess?”

“About the thing?” She pressed, jerking her head his direction, “Steve’s thing?”

“Oh!” Eddie blurted, finally catching on. But he still didn’t get what Steve being gay had to do with them ditching. He nodded quickly, “Very cool with it. Have zero issues.”

It was almost true. Whatever issues Eddie had with Steve’s sexuality involved his own bullshit more than anything else. Plus, his answer had Robin smiling. Gesturing for Eddie to lean in closer, “Good. Because we, um. Share the affliction if you catch my drift.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie said, not missing a beat. He had kind of figured that out along the way. Considering the process of elimination on who could have possibly talked Steve through his queer thoughts. Not that Eddie cared, “No problem here.”

“Good!” She said with a grin, “Then you know just how limited our options are where we live. And according to an insanely pretty girl, there is an honest to god gay bar, like a few blocks away!”

Eddie swallowed, discomfort suddenly settling in at the suggestion, “T-That’s where you guys are going?”

“Yeah!” She said excitedly, setting her sights back onto Steve, “It’s time for someone to realize that we are hot enough to flirt and be flirted with! Closets don’t matter when you’re hours away from home.”

“We share the exact same closet,” Steve groaned, “Don’t start preaching to me.”

“And tonight we can escape from it!” Robin argued, “Come on! Eddie’s going to be busy with his friends and groupies anyway. What else are we doing-”

“I’m actually not that busy,” Eddie interrupted, trying his damndest to keep his voice calm. Suddenly, he felt nauseous again. He didn’t-He knew Steve could handle himself. He did. B-But creeps were everywhere! And he wasn’t used to being around guys who only wanted one thing and Robin would be distracted with girls a-and Eddie was really struggling with this idea.

Though Steve seemed to disagree. The next thing he knew, Steve was smiling back at her. Letting out a good-natured sigh, “Fine, fine! We can go. Someone has to make sure you don’t get kidnapped.”

“Oh my god, yes!” Robin nearly squealed, bouncing a little in her seat, “This is gonna be so fun!”

Eddie’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in his his chest at the excitement, dread starting to fill him. He opened his mouth, words escaping before he could even think of it, “Sounds like you two might need a D.D. I can do it.”

It was probably the first time Eddie had ever invited himself to something he clearly wasn’t a part of. But he had to give himself some credit for how smoothly it came out. 

Robin looked up at him, clearly surprised, “Really? It’s not exactly your scene.”

Eddie shrugged, “It could be. I like George Michael.”

Steve snorted next to him, “That is the one true gay litmus test. You got us there.”

“Seriously though,” Eddie pressed, refusing to let it go, “Then you can both drink, dance, have fun. And not worry about how you’re getting back to the hotel.”

“But don’t you want to stay here?” Steve asked, “Robin wasn’t kidding about the groupies. You should have heard what some of them were saying.”

“You could definitely get laid,” Robin added. She was staring at him now, looking at Eddie in a way that seemed a little past confused. Like she was examining him. Testing him. Or maybe that was just in his head. 

Eddie held firm, “Maybe, but I’d rather hang out with you two vs playing wingman to the boys. What do you say?”

“If you really don’t mind…” Steve said, trailing off. But Eddie could tell that he was happy. He could barely keep his smile to himself as he looked to the side, biting his lip in a way that Eddie fucking knew other people would notice. How could they not? 

from the next chapter of this fic

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bitter

Azriel x Reader - One Shot - Angst

Elain orders a couple shots. Azriel’s ex serves her.

“Now I’m sick in the head and it’s not even my fault”

She laughs as she approaches the bar. Lovely, beautiful, kind. Gods, she smells like honey and roses too. She even says “please” as she orders two shots of Patron.

I’m almost surprised, Patron for such a flowery thing. The most girls like her typically order are Lemon Drops. A sugar sweet rim with a bit of sour beneath.

I’m sure he encouraged her. Tequila, his drink of choice for the ladies. The clothes fall off easier that way.

I’d know.

Four years, four years I’d worked here and never gone home with a customer.

Until the Shadowsinger.

He had those sad brooding eyes that you can’t help but want to fix. Hazel irises that seeped into the marrow of your bones like a cancer, seeking out the guarded depths of the soul.

“He’s been gone for nearly fifty years now.” He’d say as he threw back another two finger pour of whiskey - neat.

“The court isn’t the same without him. Even from a business standpoint, our imports are lacking. Which is fine, but it’s a testament to the effect the High Lord has on this court.” I’d reply as I poured him another.

“Yeah…..” he’d trail off. My heart clenched at the emotion disguised by a stoic facade, the slight feathering of his jaw before throwing back the next shot.

I’d take care of a few other patrons, returning back to the Shadowsinger with another round from the occasional guest who’d send him a shot. Despite the “Illyrian bastard” reputation he blasted, he’s revered in Velaris, he fares quite well in the bedroom. What’s the classic phrase? Tall, dark, and handsome? Yeah, he’s got all that. That and a tragic backstory, a perfectly symmetrical face, and the highly gossiped about wingspan.

Females and males alike line up for a chance to have those scarred hands wrapped around their throat. A chance to win his heart through sexual prowess and witty one liners.

I didn’t even want him. Perhaps that’s what caught his eye. A customer who tipped well? Of course he was that. I gave him a free shot once for being patient while an influx of customers waved dollar bills at me desperate for their next shot in advance of the rest of the queue.

The nights that he sat at the bar extended later and later until it became routine for him to pop in, take a seat, and shut the place down- all from the shroud of wispy shadows.

When was the first time he fucked me in the alley? The first night he walked me home? The first night my cat curled up behind him as my head rested in the crook of his arm?

“It’s not serious.” I told myself as I came to depend on him like heroin. He sure as shit didn’t make it feel that way.

There were plans. Plans for what we’d do together when things settled down.

Rosehall was beautiful in the spring but a winter wonderland in December. Even the Illyrian Steppes had lovely secrets if you knew where to look. He couldn’t wait to cradle me in his arms as those membranous wings took flight to all the wonders he’d share with me.

There was the attack on Velaris. My apartment building was wrecked. He never came to check in.

Then the war came and I understood.

I was certain he was busy.

But I didn’t see him again.

Until tonight.

And here she is. Warm and lovely, she tipped well before walking back to the table with those two shots of Patron. I told her they were on the house.

I want to hate her. I want to loathe him. It would make me feel better, right?

But being bitter leaves the soul weathered, so I pour another shot, serve the next customer, cash out, and saunter home.

And if a stray shadow lurks in the dark as I wander, that’s not my business anymore.

—————————————-

Tags:

ACOTAR General: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @ahaha0246

[delilahsturniolo]

emails i can’t send 💌

— m.s

summary: matt comforts you while your parents are arguing.

this story contains: arguing, toxic relationship with parents, fluff, crying, more. do not read if you aren’t comfy :)

written by @delilahsturniolo, do not copy or steal my works. do not take inspiration without permission. happy reading! :)

“it's times like these wish I had a time machine.”

“so I could see what you did october thirteenth.”

thunder erupted from the sky, the loud crashing sounds from the storm tuning out the yelling from downstairs.

you were currently locking yourself in your room, sitting against your wall as you hugged your knees to your chest, listening to your parents scream back and forth through the thin walls of your house.

you covered your ears, flinching every time one of your parents raised their voices. you didn’t grow up in a lovable home, so you were sensitive to yelling and arguing.

you breathed in and out, trying to calm yourself down as you could hear the muffled argument from upstairs, getting increasingly more heated.

you shakily reached for your headphones, trying to blast music into your ears as you pressed shuffle on your playlist. however, nothing worked. you couldn’t get it off your mind. your brain was filled with so many thoughts, it was hard just sitting there, not knowing how far this would escalate.

you threw your headphones across the room in frustration, grabbing your pillow and stuffing your face into it. tears soaked the fabric of your pillow as you silently cried into it.

all you wanted, more than anything else in the world was to have parents who loved each other. if you were offered the same type of love your parents had for each other, you would immediately deny it. you’d rather be alone.

eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. you reached for your phone, tears falling onto the screen as you breathed unevenly. you went to your contacts, and dialed the number of the one person you knew could help. the one person who truly understood you, who truly cared. your boyfriend, matt.

your phone rung as you shut your eyes, silently praying he’d answer. as if on queue, matt answered the phone. “hi lovey, everything okay?” he asked you, his soothing voice coming through the phone.

the sound of his voice alone was all it took for your anxiety to be eased. he had no idea how much power he had over you, you immediately relaxed, knowing that he was here for you.

“m—matt..” was all you managed to choke out between your tears. you were scared, you were scared he would think you were pathetic for calling him about this.

“woah woah, what’s wrong baby? are you crying?” panic was present in matt’s voice, you could tell that he was extremely worried about you now.

“my parents are arguing again.” you sniffled, trying to wipe your tears with your sleeve. you heard matt sigh on the other end of the phone, as well his keys jingling.

“i’m on my way sweetheart, stay strong f’me okay? you’re doing so well.” matt quickly reassured. he stayed on the phone with you the entire time, telling you how everything was going to be okay and trying to calm you down.

matt practically sped over to your house, not caring how many red lights he ran. his only priority right now was you, he needed to make sure you were okay.

you jumped as you suddenly heard a knock on your window. it was matt, thank goodness. you gasped in happiness and relief, not hesitating one bit to open your window for him.

matt stepped into your room, his hair was soaked from the rain. he immediately engulfed you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you as tight as ever. you immediately clung onto him with your life, not caring how wet he was from the storm outside.

“sssh, shh, i’m here lovey..” matt cooed, his hand moving up to your hair. you both could still hear your parents going back and forth, it wasn’t as bad as before though. but at the same time, you didn’t know how much longer it was going to go on for.

“matt?” you hummed his name as your face was buried in his chest. “hm?” he replied back, rubbing your back soothingly.

“c—can we go back to your house? i can’t sleep here tonight.” you hesitantly asked. you couldn’t stay home tonight, you couldn’t deal with all the fighting anymore. it was all becoming too much.

“of course baby, let’s go mkay?” matt pulled away from the hug, you already had some stuff of yours at his house for when you slept over, so you didn’t need to pack anything.

matt took your hand, helping you step out your window and climb down the tree that stood next to it.

the rain had subsided as matt walked you to his car, helping you into the passenger seat. matt shut your door, getting into the other side and starting the car, beginning to drive off.

you turned your head, looking out the window as matt drove to his house. your eyes were exhausted, matt’s hand was placed on your thigh. he looked over at you every few seconds to make sure you were okay.

it was completely quiet in the car, the silence was comforting though. matt didn’t speak, knowing you probably wouldn’t want to right now.

your eyes began to shut as you rested your head on the back of your carseat, to say you were tired was an understatement.

matt looked over, seeing you fall asleep. he took your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb to help you relax. he muttered a small “i love you.” as he looked at you.

you lazily hummed a response back, he smiled at your sleepy voice as he turned his head, putting his eyes back on the road.

he was glad he could be there for you, he was glad he could take care of you. because after all, you deserved it more than anything in the world. to matt, you were the most perfect girl. he saw the best in you even in your worst moments.

© delilahsturniolo

join the taglist here!!! 💌

[jaykesgirly]

devoured p.js

Brat Tamer!Jay x Brat!reader

warnings: pure smut barely any plot mdni, reader is a brat, Jay is a brat tamer, oral (f. rec), fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, I think that’s it but if I missed anything lmk

synapsis: you tease Jay in front of your friends to see what happens, little do you know what you’re in store for

wc: 853

You were being a complete fucking tease at dinner. Hand on Jay’s thigh ALL NIGHT slowly bringing it higher just enough to barely be touching his crotch before pulling away like nothing happened.

The tipping point for him though– when you decided to inform him that you weren’t wearing anything under your dress. The moment you whisper that into his ear he has your hand in his wrist, pulling you up and out of your seat and announcing to your friends that you need to leave NOW. no explanation, he’s literally just pulling you to the car as fast as he can.

Once you get to the car he opens the passenger door for you and practically shoves you into the seat. He gets into the car and once he starts driving it’s dead silent. Jay is FUMING you pulled that in front of your friends but hey, you’re about to get the fucking of a lifetime so who cares? Not you!

As soon as you get home and are inside your shared apartment you’re a goner. You barely get one foot in the door before he has his hands on you, pushed against the entry door.

“You’re a fucking brat you know that? Pulling that shit while we’re trying to have a nice night with our friends? And I know you’re going to fucking enjoy anything I give you because you did it on purpose but oh baby, you’re not ready for what I’m about to do to you,” he practically writhes into your ear, anger very clear in his tone.

All you can do in response is moan and that is all it takes for Jay to pick you up and take you to your bedroom. He puts you down on the ground and just stares at you for a second.

“Strip. Now.” That is all he says and it doesn’t take you anytime at all before you're taking your dress off for him. As you promised, you weren’t wearing any panties nor were you wearing a bra under your dress. He audibly groans, a look of nothing but hunger in his eyes as he looks you up and down.

“Look at you, not so tough now are you?” Jay spits at you. He moves to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, leaving a smack on your ass as he carries you over to the bed. As quick as he picked you up, Jay threw you on the bed, immediately climbing on top of you. He grabs the handcuffs left on your headboard and snaps them around your wrists, leaving you open for anything he is about to give you.

“Only good girls get to use their hands, so you’re going to sit back and take everything I give you until I think I’ve fucked the brat out of you,” all you can do it stare at him and whine, anticipating his next move. Before you can think any further, Jay grabs your hips and positions himself in front of your bare core. You let out a whine of anticipation, only getting a smirk in response before he licks a long stripe up your folds.

“So fucking wet for me huh, you better be ready for what you’re about to endure,” he dives back into your core, switching between sucking on your clit and tonguing your entrance. His actions have you mewling, head thrown back and your back arching off the mattress. You attempt to bring your hands to his hair, only to remember he has them restrained.

“Mmh Jay please,” is all you can get out, wanting to run your hands through his hair as he eats you out.

“What did I say? Only good girls get to touch me,” he bites back in his response, continuing his actions. His pace is relentless, pulling you closer to your release. As if on queue, he pushes two fingers into you, curling them up without warning. His fingers find that perfect spot inside you, and when then do you let out a loud moan in response, “right there Jay— oh my GOD.”

Jay keeps up his pace, ripping an orgasm out of you almost instantly. But he doesn’t stop here. He continues to suck on your clit while his fingers curl inside you at a delicious pace. It’s almost getting to be too much, attempting to push him away with your legs but he has a firm grip on you.

“Can’t take anymore? Too bad, you’re going to take as much as I give you for as long as I do. If you try to push me away again there will be more consequences.” That’s all Jay says before he dives back in. It’s not long before he’s ripping another orgasm out of you. You’re on the verge of tears, not out of pain, but out of the sheer overwhelming pleasure you’re receiving. Jay does not relent, only stopping after you come on his fingers three more times.

Once he finally pulls away, your body goes limp out of sheer exhaustion. However, your night was far from being over.

a/n : I had to stop myself there or else I would’ve actually gone insane writing the rest 😭

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Alastor + apprentice!child!reader

A/n: this is some practice to get a footing in his character. (Also slight practice on husk as well.)

Reader is kinda scary but means well overall

Not proofread

Y/n ever elusive. Alastor would randomly mention your name in conversations. References your rampages and your sweetness in the same breath. But when anyone would try to quiz him on you further he would act like he didn't know what they were talking about. He might try to claim it's for privacy but it's pretty obvious he just likes messing with hotel members.

Charlie was especially sad that she might never get to meet you. If Alastor was to be believed you seemed really sweet! (And easy to rehabilitate *cough* *cough*) Also cool! You seemed to be an absolute powerhouse. After Al mentioned you Charlie got somewhat mopey. Until he mentioned you visiting the hotel, which piqued everyone's interest.

When you finally showed up, people's interest was at an all-time high. But now it was because the fabled y/n was a child. "It's a pleasure to be meeting everyone!" You were looking at Alastor but were speaking to the whole room. "I've heard so much about all of you!"

"They've also heard much about you too, dearie." Alastor bent at the waist down to your level. "You've become quite the hot topic here!"

As if to prove his point Charlie picked you up and spun you around almost hitting Alastor in the face. He glared at her but remained calm. "Welcome, welcome! Do you want to choose a room to stay in?"

"Sorry, but I'm not planning to stay."

"I know but just for the time being." Charlie clarified. To that, you nodded. Husk snapped his head toward The Radio Demon once both you and Charlie had left.

"Did you really stoop low enough to make a deal with a child?" He was just barely containing his anger. While he didn't particularly care for those he didn't know at least somewhat personally, taking a child's soul was a place he drew a thick line.

"Why of course not!" He said sounding offended but clearly, it was to mock Husk. "They are under my guidance purely by choice!" Vaggie and Husk both said some version of 'you're a liar' in unison. Alastor simply tsked as he walked away.

Niffty seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Was thas thay y/n?"

After the crew (excluding Husk) let out a yelp, Vaggie spoke, "Yep."

Niffty let out a villain-esque laugh, though that was just her usual laugh, "I've been meaning to talk to them since they scared off a group of bad boys~" She flashed her sharp teeth and held a knife. Angel grabbed the knife and her before she could get very far.

Back with you and Charlie Alastor materialized next to you and you waved at him.

"Hello, sir!" You saluted him as a joke.

"Hello to you too! Have you found a room?" You nodded and entered said room. Charlie looked at him, her face painted with a confused yet kind look.

"They're the one who hurt so many people? Are you kidding? They are so nice."

"You've never seen them in danger." Suddenly as if on queue an explosion was heard. You shot up from your surprisingly comfortable bed and ran downstairs. Pushing both Charlie and Alastor out of the way while also throwing a quick ‘sorry’ their way.

Once you got downstairs the bad boys that Niffty mentioned earlier were spouting something about you. Once they looked at you they pulled weapons out. You grew and your arms turned pitch black with a slight claw shape. With your new size, you were just big enough to grab them to the point of almost cracking bones. Almost.

"Leave." You said with a deep booming voice that came with the size. You threw them and they scrambled. Once they were gone you shrunk back down to your normal size. Niffty pouted and stamped her foot.

Once you turned everyone had varying looks of shock on their face except Niffty and of course, Alastor who was instead proud. "Congrats dear! Would you like some jambalaya?" You nodded.

As you were walking with him Husk grabbed your shoulder, "Um good job kid... If he ever offers you a deal, don't take it." He felt obliged to warn you. If Alastor's moral code was against recruiting kids, he probably would have pounced on the opportunity to take your soul once you were an adult.

You smiled, "I know I know. But what could I even gain out of any deal with him?" You laughed and walked back to Alastor. Huh. Well, you certainly were being tutored by Alastor.

A/n: Y/n got kinda of edgy at the end-

[jewish-vents]

Yesterday (5/14, I know the queue is probably pretty large so I'll mark that down for reference) I found out the little old lady who runs my favorite thrift store didn't get anything for Mother's Day. No texts, no calls, no cards, nothing. So I rushed out of the store to get her some flowers, so she would have something. At first it went like I'd hoped - she was happy, she smiled - and then she noticed my Star of David necklace. The smile slipped off of her face. She asked me if I was Israeli. She asked me if I supported Israel. She asked me why I shopped at a thrift store when "your people have money". This is going to sound pathetic but I'm 16 and neurodivergent and I get overwhelmed easily. I ended up crying and apologizing. I apologized to her for getting her flowers and she told me as I rushed out that she stands with Hamas. (Not Gaza, not Palestine. Hamas, specifically.)

I cried until I threw up. Then I drove home. I sat down, and I tried to tell myself I'm okay. But I'm not. There's a hole inside me now. I feel guilty and wrong and bad. I've never lived anywhere other than this one town in Kentucky my whole life. I don't have Israeli relatives. My family has lived here since the 1890's. We should be some of the "good ones", right? We meet all the criteria for not being hated according to the "I'm not antisemitic I'm antizionist" crowd. On paper, it should have been okay.

In practice it wasn't. I was guilty of being Jewish. And instead of making her feel better, all I did was make this woman feel even worse. I just make everything worse by existing.

I keep crying. I don't really know why. I can't make sense of the world anymore.

Anon, I'm sorry this happened to you, but you did not do anything wrong. It is not your fault that this woman is hateful-🐞

[princessbrunette]

the reader being jealous like rafe 😩! that song “i’ll kill you” by summer walker and jhene aiko, she does not play about her man at allll

♡₊˚ 🔪✧˚.🎀⋆₊⊹♡

rafe simply trying to sell a baggie of coke to a girl who you deem looking at him too much, standing too close, smiling too often — you have no choice but to speak up.

“oh my gosh, can you back up a little bit? i’m right here you know.” you suddenly explode, half way through rafe talking her through the price list. he shouldn’t be talking her through anything. that’s reserved for you and you only, and right now you should be getting talked through an orgasm but instead you’re at this dumb ass party with rafe trying to make a quick buck.

the girl backs off pretty quickly, losing interest all together and floating away to another guy and you then and only then feel just a tad ashamed. rafe tongues at his cheek, turning his body to face you. you feel yourself shrink as he looms over you, irritated glare.

“you happy? threw your little fit n’cost me a customer.”

“she was never gonna buy, she— she just wanted you—”

“who cares, oh my god— who the fuck cares?” his eyes widen, whisper yelling at you to not cause a commotion. you feel your lip start to wobble and you take that as your queue to leave, but instead he grabs your wrist, licking over his lips in frustration and backing you into a corner so he was covering you from the rest of the party. “hey. can you— babe, what is with you? am— am i giving you any reason to get jealous? huh?” he chases your gaze when you evade it, even bending at the knee a little to be more at your level.

“you weren’t tellin’ her to back off.” you whine, swinging your arms by your side childishly. he sighs, standing up straight and closing his eyes for a moment, rubbing at his forehead.

“alright, okay. can’t go… picking fights with random ass chicks that i’m tryna make money off though. take it up with me. after the deals done. or i’m gonna stop bringing you to these things. you— you can’t handle it.” he scolds and your eyes widen, shaking your head. if he was gonna sell, you’d rather be there to oversee it. “no? yeah, i didn’t think so. start actin’ right.”

you sigh, dejected and he takes pity on you after a minute of sulking, coming to your side and wrapping an arm around you. “i’ll only approach guys, if it makes you feel any better. yeah?”

“yeah.” you nod pathetically and he begins to walk you back towards the rest of the party.

“okay. the fuck were you gonna do to that girl anyway, huh?”

“kill her.” you seethe and he laughs, but it’s not mean spirited, infact you feel him tug you closer.

“you’re not gonna do shit, little psycho.”

you could tell him that the nickname was rich coming from him, but you’d decided you’d flaunted enough bad behaviour for the night.

♡₊˚ 🔪✧˚.🎀⋆₊⊹♡

[xeansicemane]

So there's a fun/dramatic incoming scene in my Lancer game, running through the In Golden Flame setting.

One of my players' characters, a UIB agent, has been AWOL for a whole chapter because they just learned a Terrible Secret about themselves - until fairly recently there was a couple years of memory missing that they found out was self-inflicted. Upon regaining that memory they immediately threw themselves into some deeply dangerous bullshit, leaving the team, the Hell's Gate Strategic Response Team, one pilot short.

In-narrative, the team was thankfully on good enough terms with hit omninet streaming sensation Ipswitch Delacy that they agreed to fill the open slot in the team comp.

So we're getting to the end of the chapter, the Big Dramatic Rescue of the aforementioned UIB agent is on the literal horizon, and we're basically queueing up a scene that amounts to "my friends, my loved ones, the team that accepted who I am have come to save me even if I've done terrible things. Also Markiplier is here?"

[strongbabe2907]

God i’m still buzzing.. Read on for more of a dir en grey live report!

So we got there early to get tickets for buying merch and our numbers were pretty good. After that we killed some time i and kept getting so nervous on and off?!

When it was time to buy merch i was nervous again but it all went very smoothly. We did some trading and everyone was so nice and sweet and i got most of what i wanted 😭.

After that more time to kill so we went to eat and MORE NERVES. And then it was time to queue. We all had different numbers to we split and i had 601. I was very proud of myself for hearing when i could go right haha. Once in the venue i was about half way, but was already warned there would be a push and YEAH. It was intense. It was really an experience to get soooo squished yet there’s a vibe of everyone looking out for each other.

So onto the good stuff.. when they came out i was just mesmerized by Kaoru!! He had extensions in and had all his hair curled and the extensions reached till his shoulders. He wore a fancy long jacket (kinda pirate/vampire feel) with black shorts with a gold trim and black leggings. Black and white polka dot blouse he’s worn before ontop with the corset waistcoat over it. He had a black stripe over his eyes for make up and later for the encore he had blood on his face. He also had a little oil lamp on his stand thing?! 😭 so cute?! He went wahwah in the beginning. He went over to play with Die at somepoint and Die also came ro his side, but nothing too exciting haha. He seemed to have a good time but again, first show.. and he seemed to hold back a little maybe? I think they all were in a sense. He also had a blue? Cup he drank out of and whenever he did he wiped his mouth with a little towel after lmao. I think he had a mouth and a sweat towel. How sophisticated.

(Oil lamp if u squint)

I saw most of Kyo and Kaoru, Die was far away and there was a guy right in front of me that blocked my straight ahead view of Toshiya most of the time lol.

Also shout out to the guy next to me who shouted their names SO LOUD i could feel his body vibrate lmfao.

Kyo has hair. Kyo has a face tattoo.. assuming it’s not eyeliner. I wasnt close enough to see what it actually was. He was wearing no make up, a black tshirt and very wide/lose high waisted trousers with a belt that had a metal ring on it. Sneakers bit i couldn’t see his feet most of the time. His voice was good, but definitely got better as the show went on and he warmed up. He really got more lose near the end of the show with smiling and letting the crowd sing and talking etc.. it was nice to see. He did a little dance but he wasn’t super energetic. Again, maybe just cos it was the first show? They all did seem to have a good time though. He wore the love bracelet and small golden hoop in his left ear and i could see the sparkle from his teeth gems haha. It was nice to see him all fresh faced and without contacts 🥹

Kaoru had a really cute little moment where he was looking at the crowd before starting Vinushka, where he tilted his head. And he was very in sync with Kyo who came up from sipping water i think to start the song together.

Also HELLLOOO shokubeni was AMAZING. kyo did a part of it acapella. On my fucking knees.

What i saw of Toshiya was him suddenly popping up without his shirt on lol, apparently he threw it into the crowd.

Im still buzzing. I hope the vibe can only go up from here, it has too!!! Onto the 13th we go🤘

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Damage Control 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Summary: you're sent to work intel on a mission with two very combative men.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit in the airport. One piece of luggage. Simple. Easy. You travel light but not alone. Your company has yet to arrive.

Fellow travelers rush back and forth while others wait in queue for the coffee kiosk behind you or meander in hopes of an empty seat. The dark brew isn’t very good. It’s burnt and hollow. You push the cup away and mourn the five dollars for eight ounces of tripe.

You recognise the man, not only because you’ve seen his photo, but because he stands out despite his attempt at insignificance. Tall, blond, lithe but not too slender. He approaches and you stand. He looks around, right over your head. You likely don’t look how he would expect.

“Pine,” you call to him. His blue eyes narrow at you and he redirects. He rolls his bag with him and approaches with his hand extended, “Pine like the tree. Tall as one.”

He tilts his head curiously, “you’re Magenta?”

“I didn’t choose it,” you say.

“Angela?”

“Can’t leave the wee one,” you explain as you hike yourself back up on the tall chair. You bring the cup close again and turn it as you scowl at the brew. “Don’t recommend the coffee. Don’t know about the tea.”

“Hm,” he sits across from you. “Pity. Was hoping for a good cuppa before we head over the pond.”

You look at him and your cheek twitches. You put your hand to it to still it. His blue eyes twinkle.

“You like to hike? With a name like Pine, it’d be ironic, wouldn’t it?” You suggest.

A line forms above his brow, “suppose that would be. I enjoy a run now and then, prefer the coast.”

“I hear they’ve got bears over there. Never saw one. Only rats in New York,” you remark. “I lost a slice of pizza to one. Grimy git.”

“Hm, yes, a city one would hate to be lost in,” he muses.

“You’ve been?”

“A time or two. Not my favourite place.”

“I went to Canada a couple times. I saw a moose. Actually, saw a few. Meese? Have you seen their geese? They’re bloody vicious.” Your cheek keeps twitching. You give up. Nerves.

“Ah, I’ve flown over, not been,” he says. “You nervous of flying?”

“Little. It’s only the take-off that gets me. Went parachuting once and the instructor tricked me. Said the strap on my chute broke. Threw a dummy cord out. Right mad one. Should’ve known better than do a jump for twenty quid.” You chuckle and shake your head. “Haven’t been right since.”

“Sounds especially cruel,” he comments.

“I’ve known crueler,” you grin.

“Mm, yes, as have I,” his brows lift slightly. “So, what do you know about this Hansen character?”

“I know we should keep the chatter to a minimum about him. Not here,” you glance around, catching site of the man who’s not so subtle in his staring.

“You’ve done this before?” He asks.

“I work alone more often. First for having company,” you say quietly. “Your sister, she’s going to be so happy to see you."

He hesitates but smiles anyway, "oh, she will. It's been some time, hasn't it?"

You keep your eyes on him. He doesn't flinch. You're both overtly aware of the man who's oh so convieniently moved closer to grab sugar and napkins.

You lift your arm and check your watch, "look at that, boarding soon."

"Ah, yes, darling, wouldn't want to miss it," he stands and comes around to pull out your chair. You step down and reach for your bag. He has it first. "Allow new."

You take your coffee and dump it in a bin. He rolls both bags with him as you walk in stride.

"Grab my arm. Be natural," he girds.

You obey, putting your hands on his as he clings to your suitcase. You walk with him, a dulcet expression to hide your paranoia. You get to the gate and show your passes.

He lets go of the bags and turns to yawn into his elbow. As he does, he scans the area. You join the queue for the ramp and he leans in.

"He's been rerouted by security," Pine intones.

You nod and stay facing forward. Another twitch.

"You're good," he praises.

You give a soft smile. It's a true compliment. You're not a field agent. This isn't your typical assignment but you owe Angela the favour.

“Eh, sometimes they turn out to just be creeps,” you snort. “Never know with people.”

“No, you never do,” he agrees.

“They say it's cold. November and such,” you sway as the airport attendants mill around near the doors waiting to call for boarding. “Thanksgiving soon, or whathaveyou. Pity we never got in on the fun.”

He laughs again, “never much thought of it.”

“I wouldn't mind turkey. You can get fish at any chippy, but what about nice bird.”

“Oh, I don't recommend picking up birds at a chippy,” he hurls back.

You guffaw, “clever.”

“I like to think so.”

“Mm, yes, most agents I've met tend to have that idea about themselves,” you stretch your arms behind you and scope out the line. You let out a breath. “You seem the football type, eh?”

He seems stricken by the question, “might be.”

“Eh, don't you worry, I won't judge. Not out loud.”

“Right. I'll admit, not many of Angela's friends are so chatty,” he says.

“They wouldn't be but we've ten hours ahead of us. May as well jump right in,” you say.

“May as well,” he agrees. “If you must know, I root for Chelsea.”

“Ach,” you decry. “Well, perhaps we should find a more amiable topic.”

“I see. Spoken like a true Arsenal fan.”

“I'm warning you,” you retort. “I'm much nicer about the weather. Lovely day, isn't it?”

He laughs, “oh, fine day for flying.”