#i may need to rethink my life choices...

[newvegascowboy]

Dm just sent me a video of him setting up his resin printer to make a Sly mini and said "look at me giving sly more support than he ever got from his parents" like its true but you dont have to SAY it

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1

Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.

There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!

Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!

Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.

None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!

Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!

If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.

I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!

My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!

POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!

Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.

That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.

It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.

But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.

My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.

People were HORRIFIC about Louis.

It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.

My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.

POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?

While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.

For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.

But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)

I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.

POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!

As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!

I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!

POINT#5: You are NOT Black!

This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!

For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?

An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!

I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.

Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.

My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.

Conclusion

We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!

And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[marxo-fm]

Mild Sweet

✯ Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your dad hosts a welcoming party for a good friend who’s coming back from Seattle after quite some time. BBQs, drinks, dancing, and a good ol' time. Until you realize the friend, is your secret crush. A silly little crush that turned into something more, but you've kept it a secret most of the time. What happens when you two rekindle and talk, and that secret is unable to be kept in for any longer?

Warnings: MDNI+18, mentions of adult themes and language, mentions of alcohol and swearing, smut with slight plot, afab!reader age gap (reader-late twenties, Joel-early forties), praising, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, talking you through it, oral!f-receiving, fear of getting caught, no descriptions of race/ethnicity, skin color, hair type/length, or body type.

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Long awaited, I apologize, but I hope that with this fic--you can forgive me. Life has been hectic, but I am on break finally, so I chose to use this time to feed my deprived peeps. I hope you all enjoy reading this, just as much as I enjoyed writing this. Thank you!

Update: This has been sitting in my drafts since the dawn of time, I’m not on break anymore, I GRADUATED, I have all the free time now. Just wanted to clarify if I go missing again, it’s going to be because of college. That’s all, thank you, you may continue. -if this is bad, I’m sorry, this was from months ago. Go easy on meeeee.

—

“Well yeah hun, I sure am hosting a barbecue party. I don’t care if it’s damn near hot enough for my skin to fall off, I am going to host it.” Protested your dad as he chugged his second can of beer. He won’t tell you further details, which confused you since you had every right to know. Not only because you’re his daughter, but because you’d like to know who the hell this mystery friend is that your father keeps talking about. Says it’s to be kept a surprise until he finally makes it to San Antonio. Which, by the way, you don’t even know when that’ll be either.

“Is this barbecue party even going to happen? Or are you just going to pass it off to someone else in this neighborhood?” The two of you stood eye to eye in the agonizing heat of Texas. Hell, you’re used to it, but it sure did make you frustrated. The humidity didn’t help either. Flies were everywhere and yellow grass that used to be bright green surrounded your home, it used to be a shade of green similar to a green highlighter—in spring that was. You look at the grass and back at your dad, who left the conversation and went to his truck. He opens the passenger seat and shouts, “Get your butt in here, we gotta get the supplies ready for this damn barbecue!” His country accent cuts through sharper than any knife.

It’s hard to take him seriously sometimes.

--

“Remember when you told me you didn’t need my help?” 

Your dad looks at you with an eyebrow raised and back at the road.

“Kid, don’t make me rethink my choice now. I only said that because sometimes your ol’ man likes to do things his way. Cause’ you see, back in my day-” 

“Back in my day, my daddy made me do all the hard work. Dad, I’ve heard this story many times growing up, I know.” You mocked, chuckling a little under your breath carefully trying to not chuckle too hard. 

“Well, in that case, you’re right. But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Your eyes widen in surprise, carefully leaning over the console of your dad’s truck. What could this darn secret be?

“Remember my good ol’ friend, Joel Miller? That good-looking pal who’s just a few years younger than me? Well, he went over to Seattle with his kid, Sarah. Ya know, family bonding time and whatnot.” Your dad lost his focus looking at his rearview mirror and blindspots before turning left, then continued, “Fortunately, he’s coming back to San Antonio and I’m throwing this barbecue party to welcome him. I’m sure he’d love it, his kid too, and well of course–all of our friends included.”

Joel Miller. A name that went through your head a million times. Over and over.

A man you have had a long and forbidden crush for, a feeling that grew intense over time.

The feelings died down for a bit when he was gone for God knows how long, but they came back. And you don’t know how to feel about it.

--

“Okay, everything’s ready y’all just gotta set em’ up now. We don’t have much time.” Instructed your dad to his fellow friends and a few relatives. Other relatives were far too busy for the welcoming party. Out of all the other days your dad chooses to throw this party, it just has to be on a Sunday.

A few of your dad’s friends were preparing the meats, Joel was going to be here any minute now, and you grew hot. Unsure whether it was this agonizing heat of San Antonio, or if it was just you. Something about the way he walks, talks, looks, is what gets your gears moving. His gray hair, his voice, his body. Hell, at this point you’d rather have Joel for dinner rather than that damn barbecue. But you swore to keep yourself sane and still, especially in front of your dad. He’d surely laugh if he found out about your crush towards Joel, then switch to being confused…and finally, angry.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Your dad walks up to you, handing you an apron. What in God’s earth is he making me do? Surely he wouldn’t make you prepare meats and have you cook them, after all, you just want to impress and look good for Joel. You bought an entirely new dress just for this damn welcoming party, hoping to somewhat catch his attention.

A short and light purple dress that reveals just enough.

God, this is pathetic. Dressing all pretty for man who wouldn’t even bat an eye at his good friend’s daughter. Or maybe, if you’re lucky enough, he might. You still have to greet him, so yes, you’re going to talk to him. It’s to respect him and it’s common sense since well—it is a welcoming party…

“He should be here any minute now hun, just put this apron on and go help out.”

“Do I have to? I mean, your nieces and nephews are over there sitting doing nothing. I’d rather prepare the table.”

Your dad looks over at your cousins then back at the table you insisted on doing. The table didn’t have any plates on it, nor did it have decorations.

“You’re right, the table does need some…stuff on it.”

You walk on over to prepare the table, when you a truck pull up from behind the fences of your backyard. That’s when you feel yourself sweating gallons and breathing heavier. You thought maybe it was just a neighbor, but you were proven wrong.

Joel Miller is here.

—

“Dad, Joel is here. I think.” Your dad looks at your in a state of shock, only because everything hasn’t been prepared yet and well, everyone is supposed to be hiding to surprise Joel.

“Y’all needa hide, Joel’s here. Drop everything and hide somewhere before he sees us!” Everyone—including yourself—go in hiding. You choose to hide under the table you were planning on finishing work at. Y’know, decorating it and all. But you were too late. You see everyone smiling or giggling in excitement, ready to surprise Joel. He hasn’t been in Texas for God knows how long; would you blame him?

You hear footsteps inching closer and closer, and that's when you hear him say, "anyone here?"

You and everyone else jump out from your hiding places, the word surprise didn't leave your mouth, your jaw just hung open instead.

He changed, looks more grunt than usual, but also happy because of the welcoming party. It irked you, but you ignored it.

The black shirt he wore fit nicely on his body, he must've worked out or something, his shoulders are broad. It gave you something to think about, and your face reddens. He finally looks at you, Joel was more focused on your face rather than your dress. He did acknowledge it, though, but...you looked different. Not in a bad way, just different. It must be the makeup style you chose to wear, or the purple dress that radiated your face. Either way, his look had you holding on to the table harder.

"Been so long pal, c'mere." People shared awkward glances, but it went away when Joel hugged your dad. They shared it for quite some time, but it was needed.

"m' I really this important that you threw a welcoming party?"

Your dad smiles, "sure is Joel, been so long ain't nothing for me to do other than drink my beers alone without ya. But you're finally here." He pats your dad on the shoulder with a smile, continuing their small talk before Joel greets the others.

--

You wondered why Joel hasn't greeted you yet, you felt as if you maybe did something wrong. Surely not, you scoff, as if he was here for anything like that. You don't know, but your head kept pestering you about it. His daughter is at a table full of friends and cousins, "at least his daughter greeted me." You innocently whispered under your breath, unaware that Joel heard you just across the table. You sat by your dad, so Joel heard it, but was already making plans to greet you some other way. You just had no clue yet.

You catch him eyeing your dress, and he notices you looking. You quickly shy away, but he chuckles and goes back to eating his food. Lust and heat pumped through your veins, and your heart was beating a hundred beats per minute. At any rate now, you're sure you'd have a heart attack.

He wasn't even doing anything. All he did was look at your outfit.

You did a good job at catching his attention, but the tension was far too much. The sexual tension. Did he feel the same? Or was he innocently looking? You look up to see him manspreading from the fulfilling dinner he just ate, his shirt raised a little. You could see his tanned skin just above his belt. Unsure of what the hell that made you feel just now. Joel still craved something deep down, dessert, more specifically.

"Hey dad, may you excuse me for a minute. I need to use the restroom." He nodded and you hurriedly scurried off inside your house. Closing the door behind you shut, and you quickly catch your breath.

Everything intensified, everything from top to bottom. The heat between your legs, you're sure your underwear is soaked.

He didn't even do anything.

--

You locked yourself in the restroom. sort of trying to recollect yourself after your encounter. But what the hell were you even thinking? Where was the respect? No hugs, not a thank you, or even a hello?!

You were interrupted suddenly by a knock on the door. "It's occupied!" You respond.

Another knock.

"I thought I told you that this restroom is occupied?" You grew frustrated. One more knock and it sent you over the edge.

"What the hell do you not understand?"

"It's Joel, open the damn door." He ordered. His voice was huskier, angry and needy almost. Your heart pounds and you began to question your dignity.

"C'mon sweet cakes, open the door." You had no choice, knowing Joel, he'd continue with his knocks and the continuous, "let me in."

"Okay," you sighed, "I'll let you in, just gimme a moment."

There wasn't a word behind the door, just silence.

Deep breaths in and deep breaths out, you finally walk to the door and open it.

Joel greeted you with the hungriest kiss known to mankind. Like a predator to his prey. He shut the door behind him and managed to find a way to lock it. His hand immediately grabs the back of your neck, gripping your hair tight to get a better hold of you. All you felt was his mouth on yours, all thoughts gone. Out the window.

You struggled to breathe but your hands find their way on his broad shoulders, you held his shoulder tight to keep you from falling. Knees are weak and dignities are gone.

His tongue goes in deeper, and you do the same with yours, the sound of kisses filled the silence in the bathroom, but you didn't care. It was like a dream come true, kissing the man you've always felt something for. But has he felt the same? You know, following you to the bathroom to kiss you had to signify that.

You pull away, a string of saliva leaving both of your lips. His hand slides down your back, holding your waist and pulling you closer to his body.

You're both panting, trying to regain your breaths.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

"But you want to, don'tcha sweetheart?" He pulls you impossibly closer, "I saw the way you eye fucked me over there, doing that while wearing this little dress won't do you no good doll."

"Why won't it do me no good? And I wasn't eye fucking you, I was upset at the fact that you didn't even acknowledge me over there."

"Can't tell ya that." He smirks.

You grew frustrated, Joel loves the way your brows furrow. Thinkin' bout how your brows would be furrowing the way his cock rammed deep inside of you. "Y'know, I didn't have my dessert yet. You willin' to give me that?"

Your eyes widen, the knots in the pit of your belly only grew tighter. You knew very well what he implied, and you had no problem giving Joel this. Because as soon as those words left his mouth, he picked you up and sat you down on the cold counter roughly. Causing you to wince in response from the cold contact of the bathroom counter.

"Joel.." you breathed, unsure of what you're seeing is just a dream of if it's fucking real.

"Want me to make you feel good baby? I'll make you feel so good, I'll show you what it's like to be loved by me."

You pant in need and want, "y..yes, I want you to make me feel good, Joel."

"I'll make you feel good, baby." It took you a second to process, only because you can't believe this is about to happen. You're shy, it took a moment before Joel did it for you. His warm rough hands touching your knees and spreading your legs made you moan in response.

"Look at ya, already moaning and I haven't even done nothing."

He pulls you closer, your legs beside his waist as he goes back in for a kiss. This time, it's gentler, softer. It was all sudden, and new. Just a few minutes ago, he was eating your face.

He groans in your mouth, you taste too good to him. He can only imagine how sweet his dessert would taste. This was only a sample, a fraction of what he's about to go in for.

He gives your jawbone peppered kisses, all the way down to your neck, then your collarbone. You hold on to the counters as he made his way down, pushing your purple dress you wore specifically for him.

Then he gets down on his knees, sliding your soaked panties off. You watch as it makes way down to your ankles. "Oh doll, you're so wet for me. That's my girl."

Hearing him call you his girl sure put you in a haze, it all felt unreal.

His head is now between your thighs, and the sight alone makes you close to finishing already.

His tongue brushes against your aching clit and your head tilts back, your thoughts are literally everywhere. Puzzle pieces waiting to be solved, yet you're focused on Joel's head in between your legs.

Your legs spread further once Joel drags his tongue along your throbbing, cunt. Groaning as he's savoring the taste of his dessert. You squirm and move under his touch when his tongue rasps over your sensitive flesh. "Stay still sweetheart." He warned as his arms wrap around your legs to keep you spread open for him.

"Ah, Joel..." You pant, unable to keep it down. "Keep your voice down, unless you want everyone to hear how good I make my sweet girl feel." His dirty words and praises made it so hard to.

He flicks the tip of his tongue back and forth, giving everything he has. You bite down on your lips, "attagirl, doin' so good for me. 'S right."

You almost want to cry out as he devours you, your legs keep him in place as you feel the heat in the pit of you belly grow intensely hotter. You're so wet for him, and you can't help but roll your hips to get more. Watching his head buried into you was so illicit, so real.

"Joel, I'm so close-" you struggled to whisper or even say a full sentence. He continues, but this time, his tongue finds its way inside of your leaking cunt. You moan, he looks up at you. Eye contact was way too intense.

"Taste so fuckin' good for me, ya like watching me eat your sweet pussy hm?" His jaw works more, and you can't help but fight the urge to scream his name. Your chest rose with each stroke of his tongue on your cunt.

Suddenly, his hands leave the tight hold he had on you and hastily unbuckling his belt. He pushes down his jeans, along with his boxers, and the sight before you were everything and more.

You watched his cock spring up, and your eyes widen in shock. He's big, and you didn't know how the hell he is going to fit. Your cunt ached for him, growing more needy. You grab his hair and pull him closer, he hums with affirmation. Joel goes back down, this time to finish what he started.

His familiar touch sent waves of shock throughout your body. Mind clouded and head pounding, you grind into his mouth, chasing your orgasm like an owner chasing his dog. And finally, you explode into fragments of pleasure. Stars and colors were all you could see and hear.

Joel then licks his lips, looking down at your cunt before he inserts his cock slowly. Torture almost. Your eyes roll back and Joel groans at the sight in front of him, this beautiful and glowing woman in front of him. He never thought, at his age, he’d get to see this again. But he hopes he sees it forever.

He thrusts slow and then fast as he listened to your melodic moans and whimpers. It only made him want to go faster and faster, and the coil in the pit of your belly finally snaps and you shake. His thrusts become sloppy, “fuck, you’re so good to me, hun.” He praised as he too followed after you.

“Want me to come in this pretty pussy? Hm? Talk to me.” He ordered. You nod, unable to form words. “Talk.” He demands, “yes, Joel, fuck yes.” And then he lets go of himself, his head placed on your shoulder and he groans as he comes inside of you. His cock twitching, the two of you are still regaining your breaths, you’re still trying to collect yourself.

“We gotta get cleaned up, but we’ll start with you first, how bout’ that?” He smirked and you nod. If this happened to be just a dream, then it was the best fucking dream ever.

[redstarwriting]

i think i’ve seen this film before

hobie brown x fem!reader

request?: yes

request: “Can I request a hobie brown x fem! reader who saves his life but almost dies. Like, she’s super protective over him and one day they’re fighting an anomaly.”

requested by: anon​

word count: 2.8k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, strangling, mentions of injuries, knives, mentions of stabbing, near-death experiences, murder, death, mentions of stitches, canon event happenings, kraven the hunter (he himself deserves a warning lmao), bruising, cuts, blood

A/N: angst be my favorite lol i hope you enjoy this anon! sorry for the torture hobie and (y/n) go through in this oops ALSO t-swift title bc i enjoy pain

───────────────────────────────────

The minute you came to Spider Society, Hobie became your best friend. Literally, y’all hit it off immediately. The two of you were seemingly inseparable and made the best team out of all of the spiders. He was overly protective of you, and you were overly protective of him. Because of that, it wasn’t surprising to anyone in the slightest when the two of you shared a kiss after a mission. Of course, for the two of you, it was an in the moment thing. Both of you were hurt and needed the other person to be okay and while the two of you were frantically making sure the other was alive and okay Hobie somehow ended up with his lips on yours out of relief you were still here. And then from that moment on you were together all the time romantically on top of being best friends.

Miguel noted this and started to try and send you two on missions without each other, but every time Hobie wouldn’t listen and end up with you anyways. So, he had no choice but to send the two of you together. But he was always worried that one of you wouldn’t be fast enough to save the other. And if that happened… well he’s seen enough Peter’s lose a Gwen to have a guess.

And today his fear nearly came true.

The two of you were on a mission going against a particularly difficult anomaly in his world. Of course, you and Hobie had taken on just as bad before and been fine, so going into it there wasn’t really any concern. But during the fight, things were getting a little hairy. The two of you land on a building to regroup and rethink your methods of attack. “Kravens fucking suck,” you growl, and Hobie nods. “Can always count on the bloody Russian wanker to make shit ‘arder ‘an it should be,” he frowns. “How do all the damn Kravens know how to develop the damn spray to cancel out our senses?” you ask, rolling your shoulder back since he had hit you there earlier after numbing your spider sense. Hobie rubs it without a second thought. “‘ow bad ‘e getcha, love?”

“I’ll be okay. Just pisses me off,” you mumble, and Hobie nods. “Don’t push y’self, (Y/n), it’s not worth it. If Miguel wants to catch ‘is guy so bad ‘e can do it ‘imself,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “We can do this, just gotta come up with a new strategy.”

“Right, then. We’ll give ‘im hell like we did ‘at one time with Lizard in Miles’ dimension,” he suggests, and you nod. “Sounds like a plan. We can even knock him off the top of the roof of this building. He may be strong but he’s not us.” Hobie nods.

“Stay safe, (Y/n).”

“You too, Hobie.”

With that, the two of you leap off the building, Hobie going directly in front of Kraven and taunting him while you went behind him, getting ready to strike. Unsurprisingly, it worked. The two of you got in quite a few punches, kicks, and hits, but this Kraven just… wasn’t going down. The two of you didn’t know this, but he was actually drugged up on some enhancer from his world, so his durability was even stronger than usual. And getting a few good hits in just pissed him off. The two of you were going in for a similar attack, Hobie going behind him this time to catch him off guard, except that didn’t necessarily happen. Kraven caught him off guard. He turned around, grabbing Hobie by the throat. He gripped Kraven’s hands, trying to get them off, but his strength was too enhanced. Hobie actually felt panicked. He’s been through things like this a lot, but now he had you. And not only that, you were here, with him.

And he’s supposed to be protecting you.

His eyes widen as he feels Kraven tighten his grip, cutting off his airflow completely. Now, he was really panicking. He was desperately trying to pry Kraven’s hands off his throat, but nothing seemed to be working. He subconsciously started glancing around, trying to find you. If he was going to die, he wanted you to be the last thing he saw. Not this overly muscled asshole currently murdering him. He heard him muttering some shit in Russian, but he was too preoccupied with his vision starting to get fuzzy and going black. By this point, bitter tears were falling down his face, and all he could think about was you. He’d stopped fighting as hard at this point, mainly because he literally couldn’t fight any harder than he was, weakly trying to get Kraveen off in any way he could think. But it just wasn’t working. Nothing was working.

That is until Kraven got railed with a semi.

He let go of Hobie, and Hobie gasped for air. He fell to the ground, everything was hazy and he was too dizzy to stand up. He coughed, looking up at where the semi came from, and saw you. Kraven was angrily standing up again, and you were laser-focused on him. You charge at him, getting another good hit to his face. Hobie smirks, trying to stand, but realizes after he stumbles back down to that ground that he is nowhere near that point just yet. So he tries his best to take deep breaths and recover from what he just went through. But that leaves you alone fighting this piece of shit. He doesn’t necessarily like that idea very much. His eyes don’t leave you once. He knows how strong you are, but knowing how strong this anomaly is, worries him. So he calls for backup. Jessica answers, and he speaks. His voice is raspy, almost unrecognizable. “Need ‘elp,” he starts, still staring at you,  then he sees something that makes his entire body go numb.

Kraven punches you in the leg, and you suddenly stumble. You fall to the ground, and Kraven makes it a point to punch your other leg. And then both of your arms. Until you can’t move. Hobie’s heart drops as he realizes he’s using his nerve punch against you. He kicks you, hard, punching you in the face this time. Then, he pulls out his bolo knife. Hobie is running before he can even process it, and he learns later on that in his moment Jess heard him scream in a way she’s never heard before. He gets to Kraven and feels a searing pain spread across his chest, but he couldn’t care less about himself in the moment. He reaches out for you, ready to shield you with his body so Kraven can’t cut you again, but before he can grab you, Kraven picks you up by your throat, dangling you off the top of the building. You can’t even fight back, all of your limbs are limp and you just have to endure the choking Hobie went through earlier. Kraven laughs. “Do anything to me, and I drop her.”

“Let ‘er go. Now.”

“Well, if you insist.”

He drops you. He drops you right off of the high rooftop the three of you are on. Hobie screams, but Kraven quickly grabs him, preventing him from saving you. Big mistake on his part. Hobie growls, punching Kraven directly in the face. He doesn’t hold back. Kraven crumples to the ground, and Hobie jumps over the side of the building, trying to get to you as fast as he can. He doesn’t give a fuck about capturing Kraven anymore. You can’t move. You can’t web away from this.

You’re just falling.

You’re happy you have your mask on because you worry that the fear in your eyes would break Hobie. Hobie feels the same about himself as he reaches out for you, but you’re too far away from him. He shoots a web out, connecting to your abdomen as you near the ground, webbing himself against the building so you won’t keep falling. So you’ll be safe. He has to keep you safe.

To Miguel, he’s seen this scene a thousand times. The exact positioning, the panic, the way Spider-Man isn’t rationally thinking in the moment and makes a web mistake that destroys him. Typically, Miguel would stand aside. This is technically a canon event multiple spiders go through. But something in him isn’t accepting the two of you going through the event of losing the other.

 Canon event or not, Miguel wasn’t about to let another spider die today. 

Jess zooms over on her motorcycle, shooting webs out of her gloves to form a web of cushioning underneath of where you are about to hit the ground while Miguel leaps, shooting a web out to connect to your head to lessen the blow since he can’t get to you in time. Luckily, the web below you mixed with Miguel’s precaution quite literally saved your life. Your head did bounce back a bit, yes, enough to give you whiplash, but you were alive. Albeit very injured, but alive. Hobie leaps down immediately, landing on the web and cradling you in his arms. He rips yours and his mask off, bringing his ear down to your lips to hear you breathing. Then he puts his head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. It’s only then that he can calm down slightly. But then he sees the knife wounds all over your body. He looks into your eyes, seeing tears as he wipes them away. Sometimes he wipes away his own tears that dripped down onto your face. “Love? (Y/n)? Can ya ‘ear me?” he asks, but you just slowly blink at him.

You’re too tired to listen. You can’t really hear anything, but it breaks your heart to see Hobie’s face. The way he’s frantically trying to talk to you. You just don’t have the energy to say anything. He’s moving so much faster than you could even imagine moving right now. You can see Hobie mouthing to stay awake to you, but you can’t hear his voice. You wish you could hear his voice. You love his voice. He gently slaps your cheek, pulling your attention back to him. He looks so sad. He starts getting fuzzy, and you struggle to keep your eyes open. You know he’s telling you to stay awake and you know you probably should, but you’re just so tired. And cold. But Hobie will hold you and make you feel warmer. So, a little nap should be fine.

Your losing consciousness scares the shit out of him. He holds you close to him, crying and mumbling that he’s sorry over and over again. He only stops when Miguel approaches him, telling him they have to get you back to Spider Society so they can take you to medical. “But you have to let go of her…” Hobie shakes his head. “No. No, I’ll carry ‘er,” he says, and his voice sounds more like pleading than anything else. Miguel nods. “You can do that. Let’s go.” Hobie stands as Miguel opens a portal, walking through it and holding you as close to him as he can. He frequently checks your pulse, panicking when he realizes it’s fainter than before. As soon as he steps foot back into Spider Society, you’re taken from him. He just has to watch as they take you away. Jessica is holding him back. “You need medical attention too, Hobie. Come on,” she says, staring at the gnarly gash across his chest. He gets stitches, but the entire time he only asks about you. He’s only thinking about you.

“What happened?” Miguel asks him after he’s all fixed up. Hobie shakes his head. “I wasn’t fast enough,” he whispers. His voice is still raspier than usual and Miguel can clearly see bruising around his neck. “She saved you, didn’t she?”

“…I don’t wanna talk abou’ it.”

“Hobie—”

“Yes. Okay? She did. I’m alive cause she ‘elped me and when I needed to ‘elp her, I couldn’t. I ain’t fast enough,” Hobie snaps, and Miguel frowns. “Hobie. This is the job. She’s okay now, but—”

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s the fuckin’ job, Miguel! She got hurt on my watch!… This is my fault…”

“No. It isn’t, it’s that Kraven’s… though I don’t think we’ll need to worry about him anytime soon,” Miguel says, and Hobie glances at him. “Why?”

“You forgot to pack your punches in your panic,” Miguel sighs, and Hobie nods. “Fuckin’ good. Bloody bellend deserved it.”

Miguel shakes his head. “You should be able to go see her now. We needed to stitch her up and give her some blood transfusions so she’ll probably be a little… drowsy if she’s even awake. But you can see her.” Hobie immediately stands. “Where is she?”

Miguel walks him to your room, motioning to Hobie that he can go inside. Hobie walks inside the hospital room and rushes to your bedside. He grabs your hand, rubbing it with his thumb. You’re asleep, and he doesn’t even want to try and wake you up. But he can’t help but notice all the bruises and stitches all over your body. He can’t stop staring at your injuries, but the one that really sticks out is the bruising around your neck. He had the same, but he would have gone through it twenty times if it meant you didn’t have to. He’s crying again, but he doesn’t even make an effort to wipe the tears away. He just keeps staring at the injuries he couldn’t prevent. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

His head snaps to your face. Your voice is as hoarse as his, yet you’re still looking at him with a tiny smile. “’ow d’ya feel?” he asks, quietly. You sigh. “Bad. Head hurts really bad. Body’s sore. But it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you say, and he nods, looking away from you slightly as a new wave of tears comes over him. You bring your other hand up to his face, wiping some of his tears away. “Don’t cry, Hobie, I’m okay,” you say, and he shakes his head no. “You’re not okay. You’re ‘urt. I couldn’t ‘elp you…” he whispers, and you frown. “No. I should have helped you sooner.”

“Don’t you say ‘at.”

“Then don’t you say bad things about yourself,” you say, and he just looks down. “Hobie… look at me.” He raises his head, looking at your face. “I’m alive, okay?”

“But you almost—”

“Who cares what ‘almost happened.’ It didn’t happen, yeah? I’m here, breathing, talking to you,” you urge, and he shakes his head. “I care. Always gonna care, love,” he whispers, placing his hand on yours on his face, holding it there. You rub his cheek with your thumb, and he lets out a shaky breath. “I killed ‘im, y’know?”

“I’m so surprised,” you say sarcastically, and a ghost of a smile graces his face. But it disappears as fast as it came. “Really, though. ‘m sorry, (Y/n). This shouldn’ta ‘appened to ya,” he mumbles. You shake your head. “It’s okay, Hobie. You did your best,” you say, and he sighs. “Ya sound tired.”

“I am… apparently getting stabbed and cut multiple times makes you lose a lot of blood. Who would have thought, right?” you joke, and Hobie shakes his head. “Go to sleep, love.”

“Only if you join me.”

“Ya stable enough for ‘at?” he asks, hesitating just because of your recovery process. “I’ll be a lot less stable if I don’t get to hold you, Hobart,” you say, and he shakes his head. “I’m rubbin’ off on ya too much.”

“Impossible.” You scoot over, and he lays down. You wrap your arms around him as he places his head on your chest. Hearing your heartbeat is soothing to him right now. He gently wraps his arm around your waist, careful not to agitate your wounds. You rub his arm for a few moments before falling asleep. Now that he knows you’re okay(ish) and that you’re alive, he suddenly feels very tired. Maybe it’s just the lull of your heartbeat, but he falls asleep shortly after you.

Jess and Miguel look inside the room. “You interfered with a canon event,” Jess says, and Miguel shrugs. “I don’t like when spiders die.”

“Sure. That’s the only reason,” Jess mutters, softly smiling at the two of you. It was cute how in love the two of you were, even after a near-death experience on both ends. Peter B. Parker appears behind them, looking into the room and covering Mayday’s eyes. “Oh, shit— I mean shoot. Don’t tell your mom. What did I miss, you guys?”

───────────────────────────────────

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Request: Inigo Dragonov scenario where we (his darling) didn’t cave into remarrying him. (I guess this is like an alternative timeline from the original storyline). He was thinking about bankrupting our family, so aside from that, what if we also didn’t want to remarry him because we found a new lover (that even his private investigators didn’t know about). And to make it even more soap opera drama like, our new man is Inigo’s old university rival (who’s still also his company’s rival). I’m sorry…I just love these tropes/cliches. What makes it even ❤️provokingly❤️ worse is if his rival were just to see Inigo across the street one day on an outing with us and our twin babies…and just kiss the babes while pulling us into an embrace…all while keeping a long deadlock stare with Inigo. Like DUSKGSJOSLHWJJJWJ!!!!!!!!! Unleash Inigo’s full yandere potential after being forced to witness this!

Yandere! CEO! Arranged! Ex-husband x AFAB! Ex-wife! Reader

WHAT IF: You refused to marry him?

Ooh anon, you're the worst (lovingly). You really want Iñigo to suffer huh?

Once more, I'm delving into Iñigo's lore because fun fact, Rowan may be my first yandere OC, but Iñigo had a whole novel just exploring him and his actual partner, Ykaidi! (I unpublished it on Wattpad though, it's so cringe lol. Also, there's so much stuff I changed so technically, the original timeline IS an au in itself) So this will be a good creative exercise to explore his personality more.

He's one traumatized bitch.

No?

Did you really say no?

Iñigo scoffed before tilting his head to the side, a bit bewildered.

"This..."

Words died down in his throat as he saw your resolute face.

"A-are you sure you don't want to marry me? I told you that the children needs a father figure in their life."

He somehow got a bad feeling about this. And that proved right as you gave him a soft smirk.

"They do, actually. It's not you though."

Iñigo felt his blood run cold.

His ears started to ring from the shock he received.

"You..." You have another man? That was not... Him?

How could that possibly be?! He always made sure that his private investigators would know each and every single one of the people that you spoke to back in New Zealand.

He should rethink his choices right now.

"But, Elise and Elliot needs their biological father. I am their bio father!" Iñigo yelled, his jaw ticking. But you only rolled your eyes.

"Did you think I would take into account on going back to you?!" You screamed, marching up to him and pushing him back. Your heart squeezed in pain as it pumped to accomodate the anger rising inside of you. "You neglected me. Insulted me in ways I don't even hear from my parents!"

You stomped one step, as if crushing his heart in pieces.

"Why would I come back to you?" Your voice, crackled with the pent up anger, gave a raw, intense tone of rage that echoed your beating heart. "You must think I'm stupid if I'll run to you."

Iñigo's vision swam, breathing heavily as he felt small, pressured....

Intimidated.

He never took account of you moving on and hating him to the point of getting another man. But you did. You did what he thought was impossible.

"Sweetheart... Please..." His tone was getting desperate, clawing at the seams to make sure he won't burst from the emotions he's feeling.

Iñigo is an emotional man. Yes, he may seem cold hearted and reserved, but when it comes to you, it's different.

His hand trembled, wanting to grab your hand to rest upon his cheeks and place a shackle on it.

"I'm going." You whispered before walking out of him.

~~~Two weeks later~~~

It's been hell in Iñigo's company. He's working his employees like dogs to create the best fashion company out there.

Whatever that means.

But all he knows he needs to outrank the Smith's when it comes to the Fashion influence across the world.

He needs to outrank you.

He needs to be more popular.

More rich.

More influential.

He drank another coffee, letting the coffee dribble down his chin and onto the hardwood table.

"Indigo, I think you need to take a break." Oliver said, using the nickname he's been using since he was a child. Iñigo looked up and saw Oliver holding up a mirror, reflecting how bad Iñigo looked.

"Wow, way too drive the nail further. Fuckhead." Iñigo glared at Oliver before shaking his head and standing up. "Alright. I'll go for a walk, Livi."

Iñigo went to the bathroom, fixing his appearance, shaving a bit, and adding light makeup to his face, just to hide the circles on his eyes.

Damn, he even knew how to apply makeup just to impress you, the fashion icon you are.

His tongue stung, remembering when he called you frumpy.

He got down through the elevators and walked towards the park. His steps heavy and straightforward. He ignored the stares he got, some shocked, some flirty, but he didn't mind them.

Because once he looked up to cross the street, his eyes widened seeing you and...

"Steven..?"

Steven. He knows him so well.

He's an academic rival back then in highschool and college, and now a business rival too.

He also can't believe he's now a love rival also?

Iñigo always remained victorious between them, with Steven simmering in second place.

But Steven only laughs, rolls his eyes and moves on.

He hated that part of him.

But now, it seems that Steven is leading in one aspect.

And it's you.

Steven looked around, sightseeing before landing on Iñigo.

Both froze, unsure of what to do.

But this time, Steven smirked and pulled you close, kissing your temple lovingly then scooping Elise and Elliot into his arms, laughing as they giggled in Glee.

People awed at the sight, seeing this "father" play with his children and being openly affectionate with his "wife."

The perfect family.

Iñigo feels like he's looking into the spotlight, looking into a pedestal that looked too far from his reach.

He wanted to break the hands that affectionately caressed your hips, to tear the lips that kissed your temple, to break the ankles that dared walk up to you.

He felt something crack inside him.

Sure, he won't use violence.

On you.

But, the prospect of Steven dying in his arms, torturing him for hours sounds delightful.

He finally snapped.

He's not afraid of blood, nor guts nor any of that gorey stuff.

He got his yandere side from his biological father after all, not Allastor. It was never Allastor, after all, he's a really sweet man.

He could never spawn a devil in hiding.

And, as Iñigo walk away to buy the necessary items to torture Steven, he smirked.

"Business be damned. I'm taking what's mine."

[queerprayers]

any tips/advice for someone who is not catholic who wants to participate in lent? like how to choose what to give up etc?

Cheers to not letting Catholics have a monopoly on Lent, beloved! Last year I answered a similar ask that might be helpful. Here are the thoughts I have right now!

[CW: discussion of eating/fasting in italics] My most important note/disclaimer: Fasting is not for everyone. It is a beautiful tradition (for Catholics and non-Catholics) that can change people's lives, but if it's going to be a part of your practice, do it on purpose, knowing yourself. It inherently changes your relationship with food--and for people who have always had enough to eat, who have never struggled with disordered eating, who have never been seriously ill, there can be a solidarity and new perspective in fasting, in realizing how sensory experiences and comfort and mortality go together, how privileged you are to have the choice to go hungry. But for those who have struggled with food insecurity, or have lived through/live with eating disorders/disability/illness, or any other experience/relationship with food/the body that changes your perspective, fasting will often be a re-traumatizing or triggering practice that doesn't change your perspective so much as reinforce unhealthy ones. Something I think about: why fast if you cannot feast? Lenten fasting brings us to Easter feasting--if that's not accessible to you, if that wouldn't be joyful or affordable or healthy, fasting probably isn't either. Okay, all that said:

There is so much diversity in what a Lenten practice can look like, and I can't tell you what will be most meaningful for you, but I'll give you some ideas and some questions that have been helpful for me to ask myself! Lent existed way before the Catholic/Protestant divide, and exists among so many diverse communities, and there is a path here for you if you want one.

"Giving up something" is the most common language used for Lent--fasting technically refers to anything abstained from--and generally that's really useful! Jesus's forty days in the wilderness was time that he had nothing but God, and during Lent we can get closer to that experience. I give things up not as punishment or a test of self-control (those ideas trigger unhealthy behavior patterns for me), but as a letting go of something that is in my life but doesn't need to be, and may deserve reconsidering. Sometimes it's a bad habit, but sometimes it's just a conscious allowing of my life to grow simultaneously smaller and bigger. There is space for grief during Lent, but we're not just making ourselves feel bad--I've never found forced emotions to be spiritually helpful. Emotions come and go--we're doing this on purpose, and whatever we feel about it, we make space for that.

Ideas of things to give up:

eating out/getting coffee/buying drinks/little treats

impulse buying/nonessentials (you could pick a category, like clothes, or go all out)

alcohol/drugs/smoking (if this would be starting a recovery journey, I am not the person to ask for advice on that but please do seek help)

social media (you could choose one app to give up, or set time limits--it doesn't have to be all or nothing)

scrolling-on-your-phone time before bed/another time when you get sucked in

another form of casual entertainment (like TV/video games--again, you can limit this rather than cutting it out)

sexual activity (I talked about this here)

makeup/other appearance-related thing (I must confess I have considered doing this and always chickened out. I know that's because it would force me to rethink too many things, which is a probably a sign I should do it one of these years.)

a social habit, like gossiping or getting into arguments online

overscheduling/not having rest days (this is often unavoidable, but rest is necessary and holy, and perhaps this is the season for sacrifice in honor of rest)

single-use plastics/another environmental choice

Note: I don't think any of these things are inherently bad things. This is a list of things we can change/investigate our relationship with or have a season without them as a distraction, not things I think we shouldn't be doing or we should feel bad about.

One of the most important things I've realized is that so often I have given something up and not done anything about it. Like I didn't watch TV for forty days and was mad about it and then Lent was over and I watched TV again. Perhaps this strengthened my self-discipline, or made my life better in a way known only to God, but ultimately nothing happened. I didn't consciously do anything else, I didn't learn anything.

Now, when I give up something, I purposely do something with whatever space it leaves. If I'm not watching TV, what am I going to do when I would usually watch TV? Am I gonna pray? go to bed earlier? call my grandmother? Am I gonna cancel my Netflix subscription for a couple months and donate that saved money? Or maybe I'm gonna give up watching mindless TV, and find stories that resonate and make me think. Don't give things up to check a box, but to reexamine your relationship with them, make everyday things sacred, fill the space/time/money/energy you now have with God, and ultimately to set this time apart.

The other way of looking at Lent practices is things you can add. Often, as I mentioned, they go together--you can pair up something you're no longer buying with somewhere to donate to, or give up an activity and replace it with a new one. I always caution against Lent-as-self-improvement--obviously I can support improving our habits, but I've seen too many people use Lent to restart their new year's workout plans, and while exercise can be a way to care for ourselves, if new year's and Lent are treated the exact same way, what's different about this season? What makes this Lent?

One of the questions I've been asking myself recently is: What are you gonna do about it? When I'm investigating a belief, or learning something new, or reframing an old thought process, I ask myself: What am I gonna do about it? Lent is a path to Holy Week--something I and many others commemorate as the week when God was put on trial and literally killed. I genuinely believe God died and was resurrected--how does this affect my life? Believing something like that and not letting it change you is, to me, inauthentic. When I'm considering a belief, I think, if this were true, how would it change me? Would it lead me to Love? Lent (and Christianity itself) over and over asks us to do something about what we say we believe. Faith without works is dead--and faith is a work, something I do.

It's almost Lent, which is preparation for the Resurrection, which fundamentally changes our understanding of what it means to be alive--so what are you gonna do about it? Not because doing something will make God love you more or make you a "better person," or even because you'll succeed or change your life, but because how can we not? We are of course welcome at Easter having done nothing, but I can't imagine knowing what's coming and not letting it change me.

Ideas of things to add to our lives:

start a prayer/Bible routine--I can now wholeheartedly recommend (as a Protestant who connects with ancient traditions but not always Catholicism) Phyllis Tickle's Divine Hours books! For Bible study, I like The Bible Project's videos.

read a book--it can be anything that connects you with God! (I had a lovely experience with Lenten Lord of the Rings last year, and this year I'm properly going through the Quran)

pick a subject to research (theological or anything else)

start to attend worship services or commit to attending more--this could include going to several different places if you don't currently belong to a church

research places to volunteer for or donate to

do something politically active, like calling your representatives, researching the next local election, or attending a protest

donate to the next [insert number here] posts you see online requesting mutual aid

start a physical practice like taking a walk or stretching

write a letter or call someone regularly, especially with people you've been wanting to connect with more or have unresolved conflict with

start/commit to more regular therapy/other health treatment

ask for help--maybe you're the one who needs mutual aid, or reaching out to, or support cleaning your house or with your kids. there is no shame in this.

These are all obviously things we can be doing year round, and certainly we can use Lent as a season to start something we want to keep with us! I'd also encourage us to have something that's only present during Lent, or something that we do more or in a different way.

You asked how to choose, and I don't have a one sentence answer to that (...obviously), but perhaps in these days before Lent you can look at your routine/habits, the places where God is present, the things you do to distract yourself from life (not a crime--just something to be mindful of), and you can see where Lent might be able to come in and change you. The thing that's nagging at you that you know might be helpful, the thing you're not in control of and just do, the time you take up or the money you spend that might not be bad but also doesn't lead you anywhere. We can't expect every aspect of our lives to be purposeful and present, or to be continuously improving ourselves (in fact, that sounds terribly stressful and unsustainable)--but we can look around us. We can have a season that looks different because everyone I've ever known has a brain that craves ritual in some way--and either we do it on purpose, or we fall into it. Do something (or don't do something) a little more on purpose this season.

Another think to think about is what Sundays will look like for you--the "forty days" don't count them. There's no fasting on Sundays--my mom says every Sunday is a little Easter. "Sundays in Lent" is such an interesting concept because it's very much Lent, but the rhythm of our weeks breaks through. When I give up soda, I'll have one as a celebration on Sundays, but a prayer/reading practice I'll continue through. It's up to you and depends on what your rhythm/habits ask of you.

Ultimately, let God interrupt you. Let Them seep in the cracks of everything you do and let go of. To be loved is to be changed. Even the smallest thing--like wearing a cross necklace every day--can cause our lives to be filled with noticing God's presence. I keep saying to do this on purpose, but know that I find Them much more often by accident.

And an obligatory note: starting Lent late, stopping your practice halfway through, not meeting a goal, whatever comes up--Easter still comes for you. Lent is for paying attention, for making space, not for perfection.

I also want to add that while a lot of Lenten practices (including most I've mentioned here) tend to be personal, ultimately what is asked of us is interpersonal. We make space in our life and be more present in the name of Love--which we cannot do alone. If a practice is not specifically about other people (like volunteering/donating), ask yourself how it will serve the ways you love others? This isn't a trick question, just something to think about. Personally, my study of the Quran this season will connect me with my Muslim siblings through time and enable me to more fully love the Muslims around me, and my rhythm of the divine hours will connect me with the wider Christian community and center me as I go about my day, allowing me to be more present in my relationships.

Easter comes whether we're ready or not--and I don't think we can be ready. But we can look at the small parts of ourselves, set this time apart, see what we can change our relationship with, and perhaps when Easter comes, we will every year have come that much closer to understanding what it means to live out the resurrection by honoring the death that came first.

Wishing you a blessed almost-Lent, and praying for you and your practice (as well as all those reading this)!

<3 Johanna

[emidealia]

☆ how to LOVE YOURSELF more, what you need to hear ☆

hii beautiful! welcome to my pick a picture tarot reading. <3

this is about advice you need to hear to get it together and what is blocking you. self-love and improvement.

i used tarot, oracle and intuition.

take with you what applies, leave the rest.

trusting your intuition pick a picture. top row 1, 2, 3, lower row 4, 5, 6.

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile number 1

Right away i see you need to trust your intuition more. You have trouble making decisions because of your role, you put others before you and that is what’s blocking you. It’s hard because others depend on you and obiously you have more pressure on you, also making you overthink and stress over decisions.

I sense the solution lies in being patient with yourself, don’t rush, don’t be scared of being selfish sometimes. There may be underlying insecurities stopping you from believing in yourself even.

But remember you are constantly attracting your desires and abundance. The universe has your back, don’t be fearful of being driven away from your dreams. There really are no wrong choices, different paths of course but it’s always what you make of what you have, if that makes sense. Trust the process and everything is happening as it should.

There are secret beginnings waiting for you and you will be in aligment once you learn to be more confident in your own mind, being aware of your needs and opinions and of course trusting your intuition. I feel there will be someone who will teach you more about your gut feeling. Have an awesome life love!

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile number 2

It seems you have frustrations and delays in your life, misunderstandings or struggles in communication. All of this affecting your mindset. But these things are happening because of your past, maybe even karma from ancestors. There are some lessons you’ve had to learn the rough way but now you’re having a tough time coming out of this loop of feeling bad and lazy and manifesting more of this.

This is about manifesting, attracting and perspectives. Thing that has helped me in these situations is saying affirmations, doing boards on pinterest about my goals, working out or being in nature- find out what gives you energy. But what drastically helped me was admitting the fact that if you can change something, there’s no reason to whine about it, change it. if you have no control over a situation, there’s also no reason to make yourself feel shitty, you need to move on.

It’s time to take your life into your hands again, in reality you live only for yourself. You cannot ever feel whole or satisfied by getting validation for having a shitty life. Strength, the sun and healing cards came up so you will most definitely come out of this slump and have more you could have wished for. You literally can manage!

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile 3

Wow you remind me of pinkie pie from my little pony haha sorry, i mean it in a good way. Immediately i felt an energy boost, and so many thoughts all at once.

You are such a life force, bundle of joy in people’s lives, you may not believe it though. At the moment are you overworking or just in a materialistic mindset?

Something happened, at school, work or in relationships, a conflict that has caused you much stress, because you feel you were a victim at defeat and you revisit this situation over and over. You may feel incredibly guilty for not having done better or having stood your ground. This is temporary. Four of pentacles show that tough times are over and you have recently or will find a position more stable and satisfactory. But it’s needed to rethink your plans if things got off to a false start. Turn to the joy and success you already have in your life as this will help you find relief, hope and accept the past.

A change might be needed. Don’t be so stubborn and want to have it all at once, you need to be grateful and appreciate your efforts. A big transformation, an end and a beginning coming your way in career matters. Keep your strength but get more in touch with your spiritual side. Grounding yourself, meditating.

Consider what helps you on your path and any issues that hold you back.

Even I keep coming back to your reading thinking aah is there anything else I could've done or said, but really it's time to make plans for moving forward and finding joy in the now. Let go, accept the past in order to move on.

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile 4

How can you love yourself more honestly, truly? Being mindful of your actions and communication with yourself and others especially. I feel like you may not have noticed the importance of beautiful connections to people, nature, art… Or how you interact with others through your platform, art, music or just conversation. There may be something off on your part. Do you tend to be a bit… something.

Find your silliness and honesty when expressing yourself to be more relatable, honest and to live in connection. You don’t have to seem perfect or have it all to be worthy of friendships, partnerships, connections in general.

Live in the moment. We really are all on our own paths and through vulnerability giving advice and receiving guidance is part of life. It’s not that serious.

There may be a partnership incoming with ace of cups and ace of pentacles being next to each other. Also a love, devotion, romance card. Whatever form this may come in, it’s a blessing most definitely.

Truly accept yourself in order to make meaningful connections and move forward in your career-hobbies and also in romance.

I’m hearing you do have a gift of expression, public speaking or art. What is it that you admire about others that do the same? Who inspires you and why?

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile 5

For you the path for healing your heart consists of inspiration to be in love with life, desire to be softer, get in touch with feminine energy. Be kinder and more honest to your mind, body and soul. You do deserve to be living your dream life and it will happen, it really really will.

There will be a lesson moment before the sun can shine, but this is a cycle of nature, destroy and repair. You are such a kind being and i feel for once you need to accept support from others as well.

You also will be exploring a bit in terms of what is right for you, what hobbies give you energy and motivation, it may be about people as well. Having this powerful joy in your day-today routine will provide you with more clarity and it’s a way of self care and healing.

Also, you have been desperately trying to find love, hoping it will heal you. Excusez-moi for such and overused comment but, extremely important you love yourself before loving anyone else. Give yourself love not because you have to but want to. Be sincerely kind towards yourself <3

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

pile 6

Take time off. Might have to delay something, postpone an event, plan. You may feel without support at the moment, but it could be more of an attitude than reality. Either way this is a time to focus on your well-being and confidence. It’s a good thing really.

You seem happy, you have it all and you feel unstoppable. You quite literally do and this is a divine plan, it is about your soul gifts and destiny. Your projects and relationships are flourishing.

There is a possibility to take the next step towards your dreams, a decision, moving or taking a risk in career. Also new amazing partnership may come in with good advice and love.

So this is really about stepping into your confidence, being refreshed, trusting your abilities. The high priestress card. Trust your own counsel. The blueprint is within you. You are 100% worth it but you must believe it too.

★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★★--★

love you! proud of you! have yourself a cosmic week!

[bravo4iscool]

girl, I’m not gonna lie to you, I have some free time, and sometimes I really like to use it uselessly. and I found your ig account, then I did some other research and I found a lot about you and your family, so I could really rate you. And yes, I can say properly: you’re ugly.

now, you're kinda right, I give you that. some fit guys do like fat women, maybe one guy out of ten. but these are REALLY PRETTY WOMEN, 'cause I don’t deny that there are beautiful fat women, but they are usually rare, and that’s definitely not you.

I’m not seeking validation wtfff has nothing to do with anything, girl… you seem stupid. I just really found your behavior hilarious. like, how the false illusion of the new age got you, making you really believe in fairy tales. I mean, you're clearly so insecure, trying to pass as “I’m fine with my weight” while really trying to convince yourself that you’re desirable. and like, you’re not 😭 and it’s so fun when you talk about validation, because, you see, I may be petty or bitter or mean, or whatever it is. but, if you really felt confident, pretty, and good about yourself, you would just turn off the anon or ignore me. but no, you’re here, writing answers so you can post and be consoled. that’s how I know you feel pathetic and horrible about yourself, and need these other weirdos to help you fool yourself. you can ignore me, or reply me, it won’t make difference. you too fucking transparent, so easy to read.

or you wouldn’t be doing headcanons of really fit men attracted to you, because if you were desirable and if you really felt that way, you would just know, and not try to reaffirm yourself along with other equally UGLY FAT GIRLS. the main thing here is how out of touch you are with reality. close the tumblr, go to a nice spot in your town, where you KNOW there are hot guys, and please record yourself being chosen by them. if you're so sure of yourself. and open your instagram account, since you have nothing to hide and being ashamed. I mean, you’re pretty right? lol

y’know i’m not doing this cuz i’m insecure💀 also, i never said those hc’s were about me LMAO. i’m very aware that he and every other cod character is fucking fictional💀. this is just my hobby😗✌🏼.

also, why are you so keen about finding out about my personal life? wtf do i have to do with you? it’s fucking creepy to stalk my ig and all that💀. who tf do you think you are?

the only one being pathetic here is you, because you’re out here insulting me via anon haha. at least grow the balls to confront me correctly lol.

but yk, your stupidity and insecurity is pretty hard to ignore. you can have your opinion about me but let me be. i didn’t ask you for it lmao. also, i couldn’t care less about your opinion. you can think i’m ugly, idgaf, but stop annoying me with it.

and idk if you know but talking down on other people has to do with one’s insecurities, so maybe you’re the insecure one here😘.

and yes, i’m fine with my weight. i’ve come to terms with it, since i can’t change it without a medical intervention. is it so hard to believe that someone overweight actually accepts that fact or what? it says that says a lot about you actually.

also, i’m posting this so people can see that there are, unfortunately, still people with the iq of a fucking brick out there. i couldn’t care less about what they tell me. as i said, i’m perfectly fine on my own.

i’m actually laughing writing this because i won’t ignore you. people like you should rethink their life choices ngl.

you’re going crazy over a tumblr post and start to insult me as fat and ugly and you started to fucking stalk me. you’re being the prime example for insecurity rn💀.

your messages can get as long as you want them to be, i will respond to them because it’s sad people still think like you.

there are people out there saying all things about cod or ghost or whoever. if i don’t like them, i scroll, but i don’t start insulting and stalking the author of that post/headcanon/fic or whatever.

grow tf up and get a helmet💀.

[linkedin-corp]

okay heres the timeline/series of events for my "chimera vivian" au <- guy who needs to make a better name for it

ONCE AGAIN WARNING FOR LOOOONG POST! bring popcorn

and yes before you ask i Did write this in a Sort Of. wiki "plot explanation" type of fashion, mainly because i was thinking in the pov of like. if this was actually part of the game. idk why i did that. helps me think about the mechanics of everything more

the au begins once the party reaches the shadow palace , on a seemingly normal path to completion

the party is tired from traversing through the shadow palace once they reach gloomtail

gloomtail is significantly harder, and eats vivian halfway through the fight

the party flees due to this

they take refuge in rogueport once again to try and think of a way to get her back

they find the real frankly still in rogueport, and tell him of what happened

frankly is visibly very stressed and panicked after they tell him this and he digs through multiple books to find useful information; eventually he tells them of a very powerful magician that very briefly mentored the four heros of old, whos tale was lost to time due to the thousand year door story

the party has to find a certain someone who would be willing to take them to a dangerous dungeon that the magician is rumored to live

once they do, they need to do a favor for them so that this person can trust them

once this favor is completed, the guide introduces themself and their own party, who coincidentally wants to visit the magician themselves (though most of the party is more interested in the riches)

after a nice ‘getting to know eachother’ dinner, the next day they head off

meanwhile, the shadow queen awakens due to the time of the doors seal being up

grodus still tries to take control of the shadow queen, but fails

the shadow queen remains within the shadow palace, and plots a way to stop mario before they return with the crystal stars (also spends her time creating many creatures that wreck havoc while the party is away)

the two parties have some trouble along the way, including a handful of very overpowered enemies (as theyve traveled into the untraversed areas of the map, looking for the magician's dungeon)

once they finally find it, the trials inside are sort of like the pit of 100 trials and keelhaul keep combined

the dungeon is huge and full of life, (like the dunmeshi dungeon) they get lost inside a few times due to the secondary party’s leader reading the map wrong accidentally

a huge puzzle lies before the final room of the dungeon, the crystal castle (now abandoned and visibly crumbling)

inside lies a cloaked boss that can shapeshift into previous bosses mario's party has faught; once they defeat it, it reveals itself as the thousand year old magician. (“well done for combining your strengths to defeat me!”)

because they defeated them, the wizard allows them to request anything they want of him. mario tells the wizard they need him to help revive vivian

the wizard only agrees to help if mario acknowledges that revival magic is very fickle, and that it may not work perfectly or as they intend. they agree, as it's their only choice

the party makes the trek back; noticing the enemies in their path have become increasingly more difficult to defeat ; luckily, having the wizard on their side helps tenfold

on the way back, one of the secondary party members gets severely wounded. this forces them to reveal themselves as doopliss. (“beldam .. she was rude, but these guys seemed kind to eachother. i thought i wouldve been able to finally fit in with a powerful group.”) (doopliss wouldve appeared after gloomtail with beldam and marilyn, but because mario’s party did not appear when beldam had expected, he had time to rethink and turn back after beldam was using him as a verbal punching bag)

the entire group returns eventually, moderately unscathed. unfortunately, rogueport and adjacent towns are in ruins because of the shadow queens minions

the secondary party ends up staying in rogueport to help the locals with their infestation problem

mario’s party returns to the thousand year door with the wizard and goes back to gloomtail to defeat him

after they defeat him, they notice vivian isnt being spit out like koops dad

the wizard tries to use the revival spell, but everyone is filled with tension and worry because of the unexpected circumstances

the spell of course backfires, and vivian is revived— only alongside gloomtail as well (chimera time)

just as ‘vivian’ wakes up, the secondary party arrives because their leader got worried for their safety (and surprisingly, they cleaned up rogueport quite quickly)

vivian freaks out, heavily injuring many of them in the process

after a very confusing fight that got pretty much nowhere (as mario’s party didint want to harm vivian), she flees

mario’s party and the secondary party form up and decide to yet again return to rogueport to heal up

mario insists the secondary party stays behind; after much arguments on both sides, they agree

the wizard stays behind to help the secondary party heal as well, as he doesnt want to make any more preventable messes with his rusty work

mario’s party visits frankly to try and get advice on how to turn vivian back

he suggests the only way to do so is by sealing away the shadow queen, as once she is sealed away, all of the shadow palace subjects will be sealed away too

mario asks how will they make sure vivian is safe while also making sure she doesnt kill anyone else

frankly suggests perhaps using the power of a crystal star to do so (“maybe jogging her memory so she can gain control might help!”) (if you feel like doing other stuff at this rate (stuff like mindless quests like the help board n stuff), you can try and help other towns get rid of pests made by the shadow queen— you of course get rewarded for doing this — doing it also makes the shadow queen weaker during the final fight)

mario’s party returns to the shadow palace to try and find vivian (this takes maybe like 30 minutes of going through each room except the ones right before the shadow queen; you follow vivian's footprints) while also trying to avoid the shadow queen and her minions

once they find vivian and corner her, mario shows her the ruby star, which makes her lash out as if she were in immense pain before passing out

it takes her awhile to wake up, but mario’s party stays with her to make sure she gets up

once she does, her memories are retained and shes much calmer now (but can barely speak, only uses hand signs and warbled speech)

almost immediately after vivian wakes, the shadow queen finds them and corners mario’s party, hoping to get rid of them once and for all

due to now having vivian back, the party is able to defeat the shadow queen, and seal her away

once she is finally sealed again, vivian returns to normal (albeit with a few permanent changes)

rollllll credits

most of these details are. not entirely set in stone , obviously, so i might be editing this occasionally or talking about stuff ive changed. obviously i havent figured out the details with the new party or the wizard yet, but i will ! eventually !

i have a vague idea of what the secondary party might consist of for now, so ill be updating on that periodically

[delta-pavonis]

Last Line Tag Game x4

I have had FOUR people tag me in this game in the past few weeks but my life has been categorically WACKYDOODLES so I am just getting to this now. And SINCE it has been so long since I posted a single slim word, here is one blurble for each tag. @tj-dragonblade, @tryan-a-bex, @zzoomacroom, @moorishflower thank you for the tags!! In return I tag... anyone who is excited about A Thing and wants to share! I want to know what y'all are working on that you are excited about! ALL OF YOU!! BWAHAHA. From a still untitled Castlevania: Nocturne (blame @dancinbutterfly for pointing me towards Olrox fic) Olrox/Adrian WIP that is fanfic of the fanfic Until the Sun Rises Again by @ifishouldvanish:

He decides to deflect, smirking as he looks at Adrian through his lashes. “Are you asking me about vampires who I have taken as lovers? Bold move. Considering applying to join their ranks?” One golden eyebrow arches. Something flashes in those keen eyes as he lets the silence stretch. Olrox feels the temperature of the air change when Adrian makes a decision, a fraction of a second before he responds. “Apply? I thought I was already offered the position.” The surprise alone makes Olrox throw his head back and laugh, a burst of deep amusement the likes of which he has not felt in far, far too long. Adrian sits with a smirk clear in his eyes as Olrox lets his laughter peter off naturally. When he is done he tilts his head to the side, studying the beautiful, witty thing before him with simmering desire coursing through his veins.  Throwing caution to the wind, Olrox leans forward and grabs Adrian’s hand, brings the bone-white fingers towards his lips, and enjoys watching the dhampir’s pupils dilate. “That you were. And the offer stands for there are so many different positions you could fill.” Something dangerous glints in his eyes and then, with a twist of his wrist, Adrian is holding Olrox’s chin in his hand and pressing the nail of his thumb into the vampire’s bottom lip. He doesn't gasp, not quite, but he does freeze, entranced by this turn of events. “So you agree that I would be the one doing the filling, do you? Pity,” the nail, sharp as a razor, slides sideways and brings up the smallest drop of blood. “I had rather hoped there would be a struggle over it.” Olrox inhales sharply and stares. This is it. This is the fulcrum, the turning point. He can taste it.

Now three Dreamling WIPs... which I will put under a cut because not a single one of them isn't filthy, first two more than the last. CW for D/s relationships, edging, fisting (and mention of some extreme versions at that), charity auction for a date with a person, concerning lube choices, semi-public sex in the back of a car

From the next fic in the museum curator Dream/doctor and TikToker Hob series, currently titled Special Exhibition, where Hob ended up fisting Dream before Dream got up to ride him:

“Another night you’re gonna come like this, with half my arm buried in you,” Hob looks up and meets Dream’s heavy-lidded, lust-fogged gaze with his own. “But not tonight.” He pulls his hand out, slowly, with some extremely loud protest from Dream, but then grabs the lithe man by the waist and rolls them so he is laid out on his back with Dream straddling him. The leather chaps creak with the quick movements. “Now take what you need, my sweet Dream.” Dream growls greedily, teeth bared, as he maneuvers himself over Hob's hips. “Gladly. Though you may soon rethink the suitability of the adjective sweet.” He howls when he seats himself onto Hob's cock then immediately starts seeking his pleasure, riding Hob fast and hard, changing angles and rolling his hips until he finds the spot that forces all the air out of his lungs all at once with a deep groan. Dream repeats the motion, slamming himself down faster and harder on each pass until he is making one constant warbling noise. 

It’s hot and slick and not goddamned enough. Dream is busy using Hob’s cock to pound his prostate into oblivion, without a care for the fact that he is so deliciously open his hole isn't actually giving Hob much to work with at all. He is held hard by the ring around the base, but otherwise it is a maddeningly teasing glide of heat around him. Dream is hard and leaking and Hob watches as his spine arches and Dream… doesn't come. He has his long fingers wrapped tightly around his cock, squeezing out a noise of frustration. “Gonna edge myself on you, baby. Use you to drive myself to insanity. Only after I’ve had my fill am I going to take that ring off you. Maybe then I’ll be tight enough to provide stimulation for you.” Sweet Christ.

This is from bury me with my guns on, the WIP I have where Hob is former mafia doing a fishbowl rescue with his former lover (my OC Sandro). Dream is having post-fishbowl touching people issues and Sandro has the bright idea that Dream should instead tell Sandro what to do to Hob, to act through Sandro. They've just finished that scene and are playing with the idea of Dream calling Sandro "his tool":

“Anything you ask of me,” tumbles out of Sandro's mouth before he can think better of it. “I know every sexual fantasy of every human who has ever dreamt upon this Earth.” His eyes are heavy-lidded, smoldering. “There is a terrible variety of things I could ask of you.”  “Hob knows better than you my willingness to comply… to obey.” He can’t help but smirk. Dream’s expression darkens further. “You wish to be tested?” Sandro can tell that Hob is going to interrupt, so he speaks loudly and quickly. “You said you wanted to see what I am capable of, yes?” “Sandro, don’t–” “Then I will see you take Hob’s fist,” Dream practically purrs. “And then his arm. To the elbow.” Sandro is pretty sure he blacks out for a minute at the thought. When his awareness returns Hob is soothing him as if he is a scared animal. “Please, my bird, you don't have–” “I have never wanted anything more.” Hob's mouth snaps shut and he stares at Sandro. “Do it, my love. I would have you fuck me wider and deeper than I have ever been. Show Dream his naming me his tool is not misplaced.” He grinds in Hob's lap. “And perhaps, if I am Dream’s tool, I am his substitute, then if you do well enough with me, you will be allowed to do the same to Dream himself? One day?” Hob goes deathly still and just his eyes slide to Dream, who has gone even more lax in his corner of the couch.  “Hmm,” he runs a hand down his black T-shirt clad chest, down his abdomen, and it cuts the fabric as it goes, opening it like he pulled a zipper. “The fae folk call me the Shaper of Forms. It would be of little consequence for my body to accept both of Hob's arms up to his biceps if he wished it be so.” The cry that emerges from Hob is the sound of a man going insane.

Last is from a brand new WIP inspired by an ask that @gabessquishytum answered that my brain took in a totally different direction, including flipping who is on the auction block... for context Hob and Dream knew each other in college and Hob is now the increasingly popular host of Britain's Favourite Dancer, who is up for "auction" as a fundraiser. Dream bidding an obscene amount for him is the first time they have seen each other since Dream promised he would come back to Hob 15 years ago. They barely make it to Dream's car out back.

Dream is pulling Hob out of his suit with ruthless efficiency, clothing being flung all over. He’s down to his skivvies when Dream’s shirt is finally coming off and Hob cannot help but boggle even as he is wriggling out of his underpants. “Holy hell, when did you get all this, dove?” Hob’s got his boxer-briefs around one ankle and that will have to do because he refuses to take his hands away from all the dark chest hair that has just been revealed to him. Pale skin takes on a charming blush everywhere Hob touches. “I… used to wax. Thought you,” Dream groans and leans into Hob’s hands, “I thought you preferred it.” Hob stops his roaming hands and brings them very deliberately up to frame Dream’s angular face, forcing eye contact, which only makes the man above him blush more. “I should have been clearer then. I prefer you. It doesn’t matter what it is or how it looks: if it is you or yours, that is what I want.” Dream is kissing him in an instant, with a lack of finesse and hungry teeth, as he shucks off the rest of his clothing. “Then there's no question that you want to take my cock.” He says that as he settles between Hob's thighs, presses both their pricks together with one of his hands. “Abso-fucking-lutely.” Hob arches into it, voice high-pitched and thready, eyes slamming closed. “But if you keep twisting your hand like that I’m gonna come before you get to the main event.” Fuck. Dream’s hand actually speeds up. “Good. I could use something other than spit to finger you open with.” Hob doesn't even try to contain the moan that image draws from him. “Then I am going to fuck you until you’re hard again. Might take a while. Maybe until the benefit auction lets out around us. Can you imagine that? You never were a quiet lover… you know that I can make you scream loud enough for passersby to hear. Think they would recognize your voice, hoarse with pleasure? I can see the headlines now, Beloved TV Host Out on Medical Leave–Railed to Within an Inch of His Life.” Hob would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't busy coming harder than he has in the past decade. 

[star-gazer101]

Ortho the Snooping Brother

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Pairing(s): Idia Shroud x Reader, Vil Schoenheit x Reader

Characters: Idia Shroud, Ortho Shroud, Vil Schoenheit

Warnings: GN reader, slight OOC, unrequited love, reader gets compared to an otome game heroine, slight misunderstanding on Ortho's part, one sided Vil x reader

AN: Sorry it took too long to update! I had a really hard time trying to do Vil justice on my part and I had to cut it short cause I thought it'd be too long! Hope you enjoy it! ^^;

-

Something was going on with Vil.

Not from the usual standard–mind you–it was just the way he started to act around his peers and club members.

During film studies, Vil was strict as always with running the club. Giving everyone the right amount of critique to make everything well-runned as possible. And Ortho is included in it as well…

It’s just…Vil has been smiling a bit more than usual, and the punishments were less harsh.

Everything about it felt…odd.

And then there was the Prefect…

Lately during their hangouts, the Prefect’s appearance was starting to look different each and every day. Their skin was starting to become less blemished, a bit of eyeshadow was there to add color, and weirdest of all, their taste in clothing has gotten a lot better!

His brother may not have noticed, for he was too busy gushing with them about this week’s new anime episode, but Ortho certainly did!

Something horrible is afoot, and he is gonna get to the bottom of this!

-

Or at least he was once classes were over, but had completely forgotten about film research. Curses…

And he was so close too!

Maybe he should stop moping around so much since Vil has been giving him the cold stare to finish up the stage’s final touches before the other club members reprise their roles.

Right. He really did not want to disappoint. Vil has gotten more irritable than ever these past few days and no one knew why. And Ortho did not want to be on the receiving end of it.

Fortunately for everyone, there was a silver lining and everyone sighed with relief when the Prefect unexpectedly showed up.

The Prefect was the moral support everyone needed at that moment.They gave out the best advice when needed for rehearsal and somehow soothed the brewing storm that was clouding Vil’s better judgment.

A breather was all he needed.

And when the third year’s eyes warmed at the sight of the Prefect’s smile did Ortho realize something.

A raise in body temperature, increased heart rate and a soft tone of voice?!

Oh no! Vil Schoenheit is in love with the Prefect!

-

This can’t be good! A sudden rival appearing out of nowhere was not on the checklist for a “Happily Ever After”!

And the worst part is neither you or his brother had a proper confession yet!

What if Vil decides to sweep you away from his brother before it even happens? The steps are already there, what if you decide all on your own that Vil is the better choice in the end?

And why is he of all people all that concerned? Didn’t he originally not want the Prefect and Idia to end up together?

…

Status: Unsure. Will need some time to rethink this before moving forward…

-

Brother’s happiness comes first. 

But ever since you came into their lives, your happiness became just as important.

What is he going to do?

“Complete and utter betrayal…” Was all Ortho muttered as he hovered around his brother’s room. What was he going to do once the Prefect breaks his poor brother’s heart? Then what? It’s not like Idia has any other options to choose from!

“Uh…trying to practice your lines again, Ortho?”

And then there was his brother: Idia Shroud; the smartest person in NRC. But instead of worrying about his doomed love life, he was laying in bed playing games! Because of course he is!

Ortho huffed, which quickly sent his brother to look back at his game. He flew over to glance at his brother’s portable screen, as if it was the cause of his dilemma, but froze in shock at what he saw.

Idia is playing another otome game. Not all too surprising there. It was the usual. However, there was something different about it.

The heroine of the game looks exactly like–

“Idia, why does she almost look like the Prefect?”

Almost on instinct, Idia tried his best to quickly hide the game, but it was already too late. Ortho saw everything.

“I-it’s nothing, Ortho! Really! W-when did you decide to get all snoopy?!”

‘Ever since you decided to date the Prefect, idiot!’ Is what he wanted to say, but decided to glare with irritation in his eyes and his brother’s name said as a warning.

Idia sighs in defeat and reaches for the discarded game to show his younger brother. “You see the male love interest I’ve been pursuing?”

“Yes?”

“The forums I’ve been looking at recommended his route to be saved for last. And since I’ve speedrunned the other six routes, I think I’m understanding why he’s important to the MC. She’s been trying to save him this entire time while collecting gems from other romantic routes. And once you have all of them, the dark curse in this timeline will finally be broken.”

“Sounds too overly complicated, big bro.”

Another sigh. “I have to agree it’s a bit cliched, but it is one of the OGs.” 

‘Originals, huh? Perhaps there’s some research to be done…’

“If it’s alright with you, big bro. Would it be okay for me to borrow this when you’re done?” Ortho innocently asked.

There was hesitation, but Idia relented. “Fine. Just be careful not to lose it. That limited edition cost a fortune!”

“Thanks Idia~! You’re the best!”

Idia only shook his head with a grin. “Look at you, Ortho. My little bro’s growing up.”

Unbeknownst to Ortho, Idia was already planning on giving out suggestions that would suit his little brother.

-

Everything about this game is seriously giving him deja vu.

A fictional game school setting that’s all about using magic, the main character with no magic of her own being forced to be there as the new exchange student, and seven love interests with tragic backstories that hit a little too close to home…

Was this a threat?

Should he be concerned?

‘Focus,Ortho.There’s no need to be alarmed. Only Idy has use of the school’s cameras. It’s not like he’s using the information from S.T.Y.X. to make this otome game…Right?’

Well, on the bright side, the Prefect hasn’t shown any signs that they can use magic yet. Yet being the key word.

Still, Ortho really did hope that this game doesn’t predict the future on what’s to come…Especially with the fact that one of the love interests who looks exactly like Vil was worrisome.

The character even showed up as a rival against Idia’s look-alike and it made it even worse!

“Aren’t you worried about the Prefect?” The younger Shroud had asked. “Have you ever once had fears that they might find someone else?” 

“All the time…” The eldest Shroud muttered as he continued his dailies. “I sometimes wonder why they chose a creepy otaku like me. But…”

“But?”

“I know they want me to believe that they actually care about me. We have to trust each other in order for this to work…Or else they’ll threaten to make me talk with all the normies IRL. And I don’t want THAT.”

“Idia.”

“Alright, I wasn’t being serious on that one. But I mean what I said about trusting them. I want to believe that they’ll always be there for me…It also helps to rub it in other normies’ faces fweehee!”

And that was the end of their conversation about the Prefect…his brother is doomed.

-

Ortho needed a break from his frustrations and somehow ended up in the Botanical Garden. An unlikely place for him to be suddenly in, but the silence of the garden’s atmosphere was a much needed welcome.

Maybe this will clear his mind…

However, it feels like he wasn’t alone…

There were sounds of footsteps and mutterings of a couple of voices.

And judging by the noise, there were two people. Possibly here for more than simply gardening.

And if Ortho didn’t know any better, the voices sounded very familiar…and they were getting closer…!

Quickly Ortho found a spot to hide as he watched the scene unfold: It was you! And Vil Schoenheit! 

What a coincidence seeing the both of you here…

You and Vil were in a very passionate conversation about life in general and the possible struggles of the upcoming future…

How strange to have this kind of talk in the deeper parts of the garden where no one can see you. And with the way Vil is talking to you it almost feels roma–

Oh!

Oh…

Ortho had heard rumors about this place from other first years. Rumor has it that if you have feelings for someone, the best thing to do is confess in the deepest part of the botanical garden where the flowers bloom the brightest. There may be a chance the person in question will return their feelings.

This what-if is becoming a real life nightmare come true!

He has to do something before you confess!

But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to initiate his blasters.

If he interrupted now, both of you would know he was eavesdropping and everything would be ruined.

He didn’t want to disappoint Vil, and worst of all he didn't want to disappoint you.

Ortho was already walking on thin ice by just being here…

“If you really feel that way, you’re always welcome to stay with me in the Shaftlands. I’m certain my father would be overjoyed to meet you.”

There it is! The confession! If you return it, Idia’s doom flag will rise!

However, you look uncertain–a mismatch to Vil’s hopefulness. 

“I’m very flattered, Vil…Really. But…It feels so sudden. I don’t think I can accept it.”

“Why not? If you’re worried about money, then there’s no nee–”

“It’s not that Vil! You’re a really great friend and I’m happy that you helped me out a lot during this year! It’s just…There’s already someone else that I admire and I hope I can stay with him for as long as I can. Please don’t hate me for it…”

There was defeat in his eyes, but still held an elegant smile as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face to ease you from breaking down.

“Potato, you know I could never hate you for the way you feel.You should feel proud to have someone you truly care about. So tell me, does he know?”

You gave a wobbly smile before nodding. “I sure hope he does…”

“Then I will pursue you no longer. I pray to the Great Seven that if he finds a way to break your heart, there will be no mercy. I’d take it you’ve been improving on your poisons?”

“It’s getting better with thanks to you. Why?”

“Perhaps you would like to do the honors of taking him out yourself. Though I am only half joking about this.”

A nervous chuckle. “Half joking?”

“You know what I’ve implied, Prefect. Continue taking better care of yourself.”

The young Shroud heard you sigh as soon as Vil had left, leaving both you and him alone. Now if you can leave, he could get away without any con–

“I know you’re here, Ortho. You can stop hiding now.”

Shoot!

[maggeemoo]

Tarnished Mirror; Ch. 1

-[CW: Brief mentions of Suicide]-

“I was expecting you’d be here soon enough.” Neo stood still as she stared up at the Blacksmith, starting to rethink her quick decision to jump into the colorful leaves of the Tree. “Hm? Oh, I see. You don’t quite know what to do here, do you?” Neo shook her head, a tiny bit of tension draining from her as the Blacksmith’s voice began to calm her. Her thoughts raced with the last few things she saw outside. The others saving her by using the smoke of the leaves, the cat screaming as she snuffed its life, the others nothing more than thankful that Ruby was still herself. Just thinking about Ruby was met with a pang of guilt, with how she forced her to practically commit suicide, and when her desire was filled, nothing but emptiness was what she felt. “You seem… sorry. You only wanted vengeance–no, closure–and you got it. There have been others that came here for the same reasons. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Now you have a choice to make, a choice that is yours and yours alone.”

As the Blacksmith spoke, a wide array of weapons rose from the ground. Some familiar and some not, some too heavy to even think about and some so light they could float. But there were two weapons whose weight and quality couldn’t be described: one, a parasol with an impossibly sharp blade inside.

The other, a pair of weapons. A sharp shield with scooped indents on either side, and a weapon capable of swapping between a Javelin, Sword, and Rifle. Though Neo’s eyes briefly lingered on the all-too-familiar parasol, the other pair grabbed her gaze as the Blacksmith continued.

“Your choice is who you want to be. No matter what that choice is, as soon as you make it you will be the person who wielded that weapon. It seems you’ve already left yourself behind once, but you are still you. Should you choose, that will no longer be the case.”

Neo couldn’t help but approach the case with the paired weapons inside, still glancing back at the parasol. With every glance, though, it felt heavier. She had held that same weapon for so long and she knew that it was her perfect weapon, so why did it feel so wrong now? Why did these bronze weapons seem so much more fitting?

“Those weapons are as good a choice as any. Do know that every weapon has its weight, that every person who wields a weapon has burdens. While picking up their weapon may release you of your troubles, you will be shouldering theirs.”

Pressing her hand to the case of the weapons, Neo felt an inherent rightness. Like a river finally reaching an ocean, an immaculate completeness. She could feel tears start to well up as the Blacksmith somehow perfectly put her messy thoughts into words.

“You’ve taken so much, so you think it’s time you gave back instead? If that is your choice, then very well.”

Neo closed her eyes as she noticed all the other weapons sinking away, giving a final glance to the parasol before feeling her new weapons in her hands. She feels her body suddenly change, and the last thing she sees is a gateway into a jungle in the Ever After as her memories slowly fade. As she steps through, the Blacksmith speaks again. “Just as I have done for the others, you will be brought to when you are needed most. Though it is not my part to influence your fate, I wish you the best of luck, Pyrrha Nikos.”

================================================

Just as the Gateway closes, Pyrrha realizes she has no idea where she is. She thinks out loud, and though her voice comes easily it feels odd in her mouth. Every word feels strange to say, like it was the first time she was speaking at all.

“Where am I? Wasn’t I just… What’s happening?”

Pyrrha tries and tries to remember anything, but all she sees in her memory is the impact of the Wyvern Grimm against the tower where she was fighting. Everything feels fuzzy like she was looking through stained glass and hearing with ear muffs on.

“I must’ve gotten injured… But nothing hurts at all. Maybe a dream thanks to hitting my head? No, everything feels too… real, too coherent…”

All Pyrrha can think to do is look around. Trees all around, a thick canopy shading her from too much light, and herself with her weapons. She starts to pat all over her body in search of any injuries or abnormalities and finds nothing. Nothing save for a lock of her hair, a chocolate brown instead of the usual red. She pulls and brushes at the brown, assuming that it’s dirt or mud stuck into her, but nothing comes out. As her motions get more manic her thoughts do as well, her mind drifting to her friends.

“Calm down, calm down. Something happened, I just have to figure out what exactly. The last thing I remember is getting knocked back by that impact, so I must’ve hit my head hard enough to lose whatever happened next. I can’t be far from Beacon, if I get somewhere high up I could look around and find my way.”

Now with a concrete goal, Pyrrha let go of her hair and glanced around. Upon spotting the Tree through a gap in the canopy, she quickly heads straight towards it. But then she realizes that the vine she just passed looks familiar, and that vine too. And didn’t she just walk past that rock? Something is wrong. So Pyrrha sat still for a moment, confused. To test her growing suspicions, she tore a vine from a nearby tree and wrapped it around the branch of one ahead of her. She tied it snugly and then kept moving forward. As she emerged from the thick bushes she saw that same tied vine. Pyrrha balanced her spear on her forearm and used her semblance to magnetize it, now seeing that the direction she was trying to go was north.

“North isn’t an option, okay. How about south- okay, I guess that’s north too.” Pyrrha says as she turns around, seeing that her spear-turned-compass thinks that north is all around her.

Now just using the faraway Tree as a landmark, she turns and finds that her path isn’t infinitely looping anymore. As to why, she doesn’t know, but thankfully she finds a site of interest soon after to distract her. A small clearing with one strange tree in the center. She reaches for the strange, clock-like fruits but notices on the opposite side of the tree lies one of the fruits on the ground, clearly dented and smashed. From the damage to the fruit, it looks like it was frantically smashed in, and clearly, this was quite a long time ago as its metal parts are rusted so badly that just picking it up nearly breaks it in half.

“I couldn’t even hope to guess what this thing does if it was working, but I don’t think I want to find out. Someone must have found out and broken it, and it looks like it took a few hits to do it.”

Pyrrha glances around after she sets the strange fruit down, not seeing much. She does spot a lightly trodden path though, and as she nears the end, she finds a small camp that looks recently visited, but currently unoccupied. She keeps a good eye out, but goes ahead and scouts the small camp.

“Small tent, campfire, and… Perfect, a map of the area. Apologies to whoever is living here, but I’ll be sure to thank you later.” Pyrrha thought out loud as she also found a small pouch with some jerky in it, quickly stashing it away for when she inevitably got hungry. As she looked around for anything else of use, she saw a small note written in scrawling, frantic writing that has a sort of… familiar twinge to it. DON’T FORGET:

-Clock fruits: Harvest by cutting the vine instead of plucking, Jinxy wanted one in exchange for another year or two. Done, but go barter since Jinxy lied and only gave a month

-Check the Monster’s Grave, make sure he didn’t come back again

-Wait, make sure none of the Monster’s victims fall for the clock fruits like he did

-If the Monster comes back then don’t fight, reminding him of what he did to Penny works faster

“...Penny? What the… This has to be a different Penny, right…?” Is all that Pyrrha can say, her thoughts again being said aloud. She looks over the note again and on the back sees more manic words, but written in handwriting that she finally recognizes. The Monster isn’t back he just never left I am the Monster please please please Penny I’m sorry please someone anyone help me kill me

Despite the agitated writing, Pyrrha recognizes the handwriting nearly instantly, the shorter note on the back being clearer than the scrawled front. “Jaune…?”

================================================

(That's the end of Chapter One, everything past this is just me the author rambling~ And here's a link to Chapter Two!)

Hello everyone! I doubt that anyone really knows me, I don't post much but I wrote this quite a while ago and recently touched it up a little and finished what I think is a good "Chapter" of sorts! I think it could be shorter or longer, but after months of on-and-off writing I finally got to a point where I think it works well enough on its own, which is something I strive for with writing since there are a lot of times I condemn a WIP to the shadow realm known as "Write later."

Anyways I'd just like to thank one person in particular, @pilot-boi for at least somewhat entertaining an idea I had a few months back. Had it not been for you saying that you like the idea even a little, this short work may have never existed and would have never been posted, so thank you so so so so so much. I've written a lot of things that just kinda came out of nowhere that not a lot of people have found interesting so I never bothered to post them anywhere, but the tiny bit of encouragement that you gave me was a spark. I can only hope that spark stays lit long enough for me to write this AU out fully, and maybe for me to give the series an ending that I think it needs.

Thanks everyone for reading, and have a wonderful day/morning/night~ Toodles!

[vibratingskull]

For a dance with you

“A first kiss? With reader. Like in a semi public place! Like an empire week evening, a boring one.”

Here you go my friend @blackmonitor !

Its a Thrawn x f!reader

No beta reader involved, sorry for any typo

You sigh deeply…

You’re bored to death.

All those balls and soiree blurred and look the same to you. But as an admiral it is your duty to appear at those evenement and represent the Marine. It’s just… It’s always the same. The same face. The same dances. The same orchestra. The same low bows and subterfuges. 

You massage your neck, easing your muscles, taking a deep breath. You look at the crowd in front of you. How many of them did you see yesterday and will see tomorrow? Too much. 

“Are you okay,  Admiral (y/l/n)?”

Your attention goes back to the small group of dignitaries you were talking to. Their conversation isn’t that reinvigorating, no wonder you dozed off.

“Yes… I will just go grab another drink.” You say, serving them the first excuse that comes to your mind and dump them.

You grab another glass, and as you walk aimlessly you see a large window opening on a balcony. You’re dying for some fresh air.

Thankfully there is nobody else on this balcony. You come leaning against the guardrail, appreciating the wind in your hair.

“Can I join you ?” A voice you would recognize among thousands raises behind your back.

You turn your head, to see the man of your dreams at the window frame. He too seems bored to death.

“You may.” You smile politely, trying to control the quaver of your voice. “You too need some fresh air?”

“I need a bastion to retreat and rethink a new strategy.” He explains, placing himself next to you, sighing “I don’t maneuver well in politics… It’s an aspect I will never grasp.”

You almost nudge him, but refrain before actually touching him.

“Don’t say that! You will manage one day, I’m sure.”

“Thank you for your words of encouragement, but I do not share your vision. It is as such, I have accepted it.”

Your arms almost touch, grazing each other, you feel your face heating up like hell.

“You came with someone?” you ask nonchalantly, but secretly afraid of the answer.

Please no date! Please no date! You pray internally

“I came here with Colonel Yularen, he wanted me to meet some people.” He responds unfazed, clearly unaware of your internal turmoil.

Gosh, the effect this man has on you is unreal. You discreetly wipe your sweaty palms, feeling the tension rise as he stays longer next to you. You try to play cool, but you feel painfully obvious. You chuckle nervously, earning you a side look and an inquisitive raised eyebrow. Relax Y/n, relax! He’s just some guy, some random man. RELAX!

But he’s not just a random man, not to you. First of all, because he’s your direct superior, that counts for something, and because he literally haunts you… Your mind, your dream, your work environment, everything oozes his presence and plague your daily life. Which is both a curse and a benediction.

“And you?” He finally ask.

“Hmm?” Wandering in your head, you’ve lost track of the conversation.

“What would be your ideal partner for such a soiree?” 

“Oh,well…” You think for a second, who will be your ideal partner? 

You. 

But you can’t answer that. So you answer what’s most accurate.

“My lover, I would say. I’m a romantic at heart.” 

You discreetly observe his reaction but he just nods, looking at his wine swirling in his glass. 

At least he didn’t laugh.

“And you?” You ask to deflect the feeling of shame of such a confession.

“My ideal partner…” His hand went to his chin, his gaze fixated on the forest in front of him. “Let’s see… Someone special. Someone unique to me. Yes… A lover is a good choice…” 

Your eyes widen, you both agree to something. His wine must be strong for him to open up in such a manner. But there is still one crucial question.

“Do… Do you have someone in mind?” You hold your breath.

“I do.” 

You recoil on yourself. 

With only two words he stabbed your heart and murdered you. You gulp, feeling tears behind your eyes. It’s life (y/n), accept it.

“I wish you could have enjoyed this soiree with the person of your choice and not just imagined it, sir.” You say swallowing your tears, breathing through your nose.

“But I do not have to imagine anything.” He whispers.

His hand slides across the guardrail and grazes yours ever so slightly. 

You blink.

What ?

He seizes your hand, turning fully towards you. You remain mute, not fully comprehending what’s happening right now.

“(y/n)...”

Your eyes lock. You’re enthralled by those glowing fire orbs, sparkling with a mischievous, almost childish gleam, contrasting with his stern and serious demeanor. Is it… hope that I see? He caresses your cheek and tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. 

“(y/n)...” He repeats, even lower

“Y-yes?” You stutter, too dumbfounded by what’s happening to function properly.

He tilts your chin, slowly leaning towards you. 

“Don’t refuse me, please…”

That wouldn't even cross your mind. You feel his breath on your lips and close your eyes, incredulous.

He leaves a single, soft, sweet, tender kiss and you savor it like it’s your last.

But deep down, you know.

There are many more to come!

@Bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics

[elysium-the-true-faceofsalvation]

...

"Ah...! You're... finally awake."

".... Do you remember who you are and what you are doing here?

... I guess not. Well, I think I should refresh your memory."

"Are you seeing this place? The leaves, the clouds, everything?

Well, this place has a name. This beautiful scenery doesn't exist just for show."

"Currently, you are in Elysium. An utopian realm that exists within the border of life and death."

"This place will soon be called home by 10 lost souls who found themselves here.

These souls were once human beings just like me and you, but they have reached man's ultimate fate.

Death."

"But these souls weren't just any human beings, they went through an immense amount of suffering in their lifes."

"But they aren't here just because they suffered.

But because they were also deemed a lost cause by the society they were living in. And that caused them to be lost in the afterlife."

"But, don't think it's a bit unfair to have lived a life like that?

Don't you think.... They deserve a second chance?"

"Well, that's exactly what we may give them. What YOU may give them."

"Yep, that's YOUR role. Because you are THE ANGEL."

"THE ANGEL only has to do something very simple.

You have to make a choice."

"You will talk to each of the souls, see them interact with each other, and then determine what they deserve. Whether that will be SALVATION or ABANDONMENT."

"This process will go on for 3 trials, so you have plenty of time to rethink previous decisions."

"But, Elysium doesn't know anything about each soul.

How they died, why they died, and what was the cause of their suffering are things that YOU will have to discover."

"... How? Well, in Elysium's own special way.

We will extract the thoughts, feelings, worldviews, deaths, everything of the souls, into videos and music. After all, what's a better way for someone to express themselves than music?"

"But, we can't extract everything all at once, and, at the beginning, everything may sound very cryptic.

But that's what the 3 trials are for. The more that time passes, the more you'll understand and get information on the souls."

".... Huh? My.... Name?

I forgot to introduce myself?"

"Oh well, I guess i'll just do it now.

My name is-

.... You know what? You don't need to know my name."

"For now, just call me:

'THE OVERSEER'."

".... Oh? You seem exicited.

You want to save them all, don't you?"

".... Are you really going to be able to do that?"

"You know....

None of the souls actually want your help."

"... Take that as you will, okay?"

"... Just one more thing.

Your name....

Is Numen."

"Heh. That got your attention real fast."

"... Did you doubt that?"

"Anyhow, are you ready, my angel?

Now....

LET THE ELYSIUM FIRST TRIAL BEGIN."

[wenwenbittercake]

Cherry of my Eyes🍒

Chapter 1: Worst Mistake 🍒🍒

(So in this fanfic, I can’t find who’s the Norman’s daughter is so we will just call her Evelyn. TW: death and kidnapping. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it.)

It was a horrible Idea. Your life flips upside down the moment you decide to make a silly decision that isn’t even worth the price you have to pay. It was a chilly night in January. Cindy, your best friend since high school, came up with a plan to hook you up with a date. Her idea of getting a date is going to a frat party, getting booze up and make up. You’ve never had experience with dating, let alone booze and frat parties so you rethink the decision. But again you trust Cindy, she has always been there for you even though your live styles were oil and water. She is a rich girl from the suburbs where you are raised by a middle class family. Still, Cindy had never discriminated against you for your differences. This led you to amuse the idea of going to that very frat party.

Cindy’s plan was a disaster. Every guy she hooked you up with has 0 interest in what you are saying and obviously not looking for a relationship. You may have no experience in dating but you do know when a guy only sees you as something to fuck with. So, you decided to wait near the pool for Cindy to be done with her partying. A few minutes later, Cindy came out angry. She stormed towards you, wobbling in her way as she’s obviously drunk.

“We are leaving.” She said as she grabbed my arms and pulled me out of the party.

Her so-called boyfriend looked disheveled with lipstick marks all over his face, clearly not Cindy’s color.

“That bitch of a guy, I can’t believe he would cheat on me, let alone with a BLONDE.” She steps on her gas hard.

She steps on her gas hard. Causing a roaring engine noise. Now you are scared. She doesn’t look to be in the right mind to drive. She’s drunk and angry, not a good choice to drive.

“Cindy, don’t you think we should just call the cab? I mean your drunk and-“

“Can you just shut up (Y/N)! I got this!”

She recklessly sped through the street. Your heart is stuck on your throat with your hand gripping on the seat for dear life. Cindy continues to rant about her boyfriend but that is the last thing you are worried about. The speed she’s going with is fast enough to run over a deer without stopping. Just as the thought goes through your mind, Cindy swerves to the right, running into a tree on the sidewalk. Your body didn’t inflict much damage thanks to the seatbelt but the glass shards had cut your forehead, leaving a hot sensation. Did she hit something?

Your got out of the car in a hurry. You walk slowly in front of the car not ready for the sight you were about to witness. A girl in a yellow dress lay on the sidewalk, her head bloody and her leg seems to be broken. You ran to the girl, flipping her on her back and you were hit with a realization. Cindy hit Evelyn.

Evelyn is a girl you know in your crocheting class. You decided to join the class just to put your mind off your home life. She is a friendly girl, she’s shy but bubbly if you know her. However, she’s not so bright in the craft as you needed to help her outside of classes. That’s how you guys bonded. You guys are quite similar to each other. You both share similar interests in a lot of things. You even consider her to be your best friend. However, you guys stopped contacting me after you went to college. But this is not how you want to reunite with Evelyn again.

“Evelyn? EVELYN! Cindy calls the ambulance!”

“Call the ambulance? Are you insane?! We are going to go to jail.”

“But she’s going to bleed to death, hurry!”

You grip her head, the area where blood was dripping to stop the bleeding.

“Ok OK wait.” Cindy ran back into the car to call the ambulance.

You hold Evelyn in your arms, your hands are shaking like crazy and your breath rapid. You hold her in your arms to give some comfort in the pain. Then you hear the barks of a dog. You look around and see an old man standing with his dog. He runs towards Evelyn and checks her injuries.

“Oh, my baby. What have you done?!” You were shaken by his hoarse voice.

He took Evelyn in his arms and cried. Uttering Nos and pleads for her to stay. You can help but feel guilty even though it wasn’t you who was driving recklessly.

“W-we called the ambulance; she might make it.” You manage to say something through your sobs.

“Did you do this?” He said in a low and threatening tone. Your heart caught your throat.

“IS THIS YOUR DOING?” He yells this time, looking straight into you.

You can’t see his face due to the dimly lit street lights but you can imagine the anger by his voice. Cindy snapped me out of my fear, she dragged me away from the scene,

“We need to go, Now.”

“TELL ME DID YOU DO THIS?”

“I’m sorry, I-I am really sorry.” You utter whispers of sorrys as Cindy drags you back into her car.

We drive off fast leaving the scene, Your body soaks in the blood of Evelyn. You are sure no matter how hard you try to wash them off, the blood will still stain your hands.

It’s been weeks since Evelyn’s death. There was a trail for her murder and Cindy was found not guilty. Not only that, Cindy’s parents paid a large sum of money to your parents to cover up Evelyn’s murder. You both haven’t talked since that night. You never want to talk to her again knowing the truth. You felt sorry for the old man, Evelyn’s father. You know the type of bond they both share over the months of being friends with Evelyn. And now you felt guilty for partly taking that bond away. You spent your days in your room, the media was all around your house, asking for answers only you and Cindy know. Finally when the media dies down about the case, you finally have the courage to step out of your house again.

You decided to go back to college catching up with your studies, but school didn’t feel like it used to be anymore. Cindy was nowhere to be found but all the student’s eyes and whispers followed you through the day.

You walk back home feeling broken down, you walk don’t the street wrap in your own thoughts not realizing the footsteps behind you. When you finally realized it, it was too late. A cloth covers your face, the smell of chloroform hits your nose, your vision blur and you fall into a deep sleep.

Please tell me if u enjoy it I am planning to write more but I am unsure if I should or not. Sorry if there's grammar mistakes. Hope u enjoyed reading it. 🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒

[kit-kat-katie]

I love you, but you love him, and he loves me

A/N: Sometimes I forget that the things that I say have a tendency to age like milk... apologies for the lack of updates and fics. I've been drowning in schoolwork since the semester started and I haven't had much of a chance to work on an extended fic like Our Time. The current plan is to have this post up for February, put up a Johanna fic in April/May, and then finish up Our Time over the summer (hopefully). Anyways, here's some Clove fluff that's a week late for Valentine's Day! :D

oh, thanks for 100 followers! I am so happy that people enjoy my content without a regular schedule. thank you so so much again!

TW: underage drinking/smoking, brief mention of weed, small fighting scene, reader is put into uncomfortable romantic situation

Pairing: Clove x GN! Reader (Rivals to Lovers in 2x speed)

Summary: You love Clove. She likes Cato. Cato likes you. Your life is a comedic love triangle until your best friend's drunken disaster causes you to connect with Clove and discover something new about her.

“On your left.” 

Catelyn gives you a quick warning before flipping you on the back and slamming you against the mat. You squirm against her grip for a moment before spotting a weakness in her legs.

An opening.

You grab her leg and pull her to the ground before taking her hands and pinning them to the ground.

“Don’t count me out yet.” You sneer as she scoffs.

“Fucker.” She mumbles as a buzzer goes off in the distance.

You immediately jump off of her and offer a hand up, which Catelyn begrudgingly takes.

“Trying to impress your girl?” She raises an eyebrow before you shove her aside.

Clove’s staring at the two of you, well, just you since Catelyn’s stepped off the mat to grab a drink of water. Her eyes immediately drift off to look elsewhere as you let out a sigh.

You wish she’d look at you longer, as much as she looked at Cato.

It’s funny, in an ironic way.

You love her.

She loves him.

And he’s paused his sparring to walk over to you.

Probably to ask you on a date or to go drinking or to go do something with romantic undertones that you don’t want to do.

So he loves you.

Catelyn had egged the two of you on before realizing that you wanted nothing more than for him to leave you alone. You didn’t want to refuse Cato’s invitations - he was the choice for a Hunger Games tribute in the near future, and that’d piss off more people than your trickiness could outmaneuver.

Perhaps running through a nearby window would be the best way to avoid him?

…And he’s right in front of you.

You glance behind him, only to see Clove's jaw tighten.

Fuck.

~

An invite.

“That's all he wanted?” Catelyn teases as you make your way to the place where Cato always invited you after sparring practice.

It wasn't like the two of you were going to be alone. It was a tradition for the top contenders for this year's Hunger Games to engage in a few… adult activities before the Reaping occurred. This way, the two tributes shipped off could get to enjoy a little bit of adulthood before heading to the Capital.

It wasn't anything too awful, just some cheap booze and a few blunts to pass around. Any people that passed you all by would simply look the other way - who'd want to risk being harassed by a group of teenagers?

You didn't usually partake beyond a few sips from some cheap bottle of booze - someone needed to carry Catelyn home, after all.

When the two of you slip behind a pair of buildings, a few boys around Cato's age wave you over.

“Let's get this over with.” You grumble, hoping to spend this evening without uncomfortably resting in Cato's arms.

~

You failed.

Horrendously.

When you arrived, Cato threw an arm around you and hasn't let you go since. You're tempted to drink more so you don't remember what he's said or done, but seeing your friend nearly face plant into a campfire has you rethinking that decision.

As if matters couldn't get any worse, Clove arrived just in time to see Cato place a kiss on your cheek. She huffs before glaring at the two of you from a fair distance away.

This time, you notice, her glare isn't directed at you.

She's glaring at him.

~

Catelyn's barely able to stumble forward as you throw an arm around your shoulder. She excitedly points at a lamppost and tries to point at it, but she ends up falling out of your grasp and onto the barren road.

“Catelyn, c’mon,” You try to coax your friend from the ground, but she shakes her head, “We've got to get home before sunrise.”

“Nu-uh!” She slurs, face-down in the pavement.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose until you hear footsteps come from behind you.

“Need some help?” 

In all of her brazen glory, your knight-in-shining-armor (a black leather jacket, a plain t-shirt, and blue jeans), Clove, offers to help.

“If you don't mind, I know you might be busy with someone else.” You quietly say as she shakes her head.

“I wanted to take a walk to clear my head, away from everyone else.”  She grabs Catelyn from the ground, who whines like a petulant child, before you hoist one of Catelyn’s arms over your shoulder.

Clove does the same, and the three of you walk in silence until a biting question slips off her tongue.

“Do you like Cato?”

“Absolutely not.” The answer leaves your lips before you can refine the words with a bit more thought. “We're friends, sure, but I don't feel anything for him.”

Relief escapes her lips as she takes a deep breath out, then in. She smiles, as do you in return.

“Good, good. I was worried that you were into him.” 

“Why?” You stop, which causes Clove to stop.

“I thought- I thought I liked him, but I saw him kissing you and… I didn't like how it made me feel.” She blushes at her honesty as you bite your lip.

“If you like him, Clove, you can have him. I certainly don't want him.”

She harshly laughs before turning to look at you.

“Don't you get it? All of those times that I saw you two together, I thought I was jealous of you. Today, after seeing him draped over you, I realized that I'm jealous of him.”

Her confession leaves you breathless as you pause to consider her words.

She… likes me.

“Clove, I…” It's your turn to get nervous as you try to meet Clove’s unwavering gaze. “I really, really like you too.”

Catelyn, in a moment of drunken clarity, lifts her head up to look at the both of you before loudly sighing.

“Just kiss already, you idiots!” She lets go of the both of you to (not-so) gracefully fall on the ground as your arm finds its way around her.

You lean in to kiss her, before pausing.

“Is this okay?” You mumble, centimeters away from her lips. 

A mischievous smile slips onto her face as she answers by kissing you back.

You wouldn't have many nights like this again, but this night would always be special to you.