#i went deep into the fc hole

[acciohqs]

So many hufflepuffs! We love to see it!! Im absolutely awful at fcs. Can i request some FCs suggestions for Justin-Flinch Fletchley please?

✱ ─ Hiii yes for the Hufflepuff love !!!! and for Justin I can see the following fc's. But in the end go with one that feels right to you.

Boss Chaikamon, Sean Kaufman, anthony keyvan, jeremy pope, enes koçak, Joe Keery, Chase Stokes, matthew noszka, ryan mccartan, jonah hauer-king, Jannik Schümann, charles melton, felix mallard, kento yamazaki

[jo-com]

🎧₊ ꪆৎ ˚⋆. ➛ The other Woman

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mieux

Summary: You’ve grown tired of the baseless rumors that you’re ‘the third party’— worst part is, Charles and Alex doesn’t defend you.

Genre: A little SMAU, Angst, Poly established relationship

Fc: Alexa Demie

Note: there are some grammar errors and this is not proofread also I figured i do an angsty fiction bcs i always write about fluff and just wanted to switch things up! Hope you enjoy thiis!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist. (Part 2)

─────── ─ ⋆˚࿔☕️ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆─ ───────

Your heart clenched from sorrow as you scrolled further down the comment section— a mixed of different emotions coursing through your mind stream, making your heart and head throb with the growing pain.

Every hurtful banters went straight through your heart, as if they were knives; stabbing you in the most gruesome way.

The tears that you tried to held back is now pushing their way out of your eyelids, ready for them to fall down your porcelain cheeks.

As you red more— the feeling of discomfort subdued your thoughts and was in need of comforting.

So that’s what you did. Finding comfort in something or someone.

You hurriedly exited twitter with shaky hands and went straight to your contacts, ready to find the three of your’s group chat.

Expecting them to make your heart at ease and say nothing but endless affirmations.

…

➛ Message

…

Or so you thought.

You let out a heavy sigh— the stinging sensation in your chest won’t stop and was aching even more with each words that they replied with.

The hurt in your heart caused your pent up tears to pour down your cheeks, making a stream of profound sadness evident in your complexion.

You didn’t get why they were like that to you, i mean they did care even if it were a little, but saying that you’re overreacting is just crossing the line. If it were about them, they’d be all over the place. Things really are just different when it comes to you.

As those thoughts clouded your mind— the fear of being abandoned popped up. Planting an uneasy feeling grow deep in your heart.

…

The following days, you’ve avoided them like the plague— canceling their calls and making excuses whenever they ask you to go out, dismissing them with your lame transparent reasons.

But they didn’t buy it and kept on chatting you in all of your social media accounts.

Even after flooding your messages they still wouldn’t stop, and the same goes with your feelings. The hurt will always stay and keep on following you.

Those days also got you to rethink whether or not your important and do they even have a place for you in their heart. Earning a lot of sleepless days and silent cries; all alone in your own embrace.

The only two person who’ve known about your messy state were lily and alex.

Unlike the two, they were nothing but supportive and was giving you the comfort you needed in the first place. You wished that Alex and Charles was like that;

…

But instead of mopping around all weak, you’ve decided to take Lily’s offer in going out.

Unbeknownst to your two lovers of your whereabouts— still hurt from your previous conversation.

…

Miss.yn

Liked by Lilymhe and 12,789 others

Miss.yn Out of sight, out of mind💋

Tagged; @Lilymhe

View all comments

Username1 ATE THAT DRESS UPP

Lilymhe just wow🤤🤤

Miss.yn Love yaa!!

Username2 they could never make me hate u!!

Francisca.cgomes invites when??

Miss.yn Next time, i promise

Francisca.cgomes 🙄🙄🙄

Lilymhe i wanna go again😢

Miss.yn I know u miss me already🤭

Lilymhe i always do though??

Alex_albon weirdo.

Comments have been restricted

…

After posting your pics and not even 30 minutes have passed when you’ve received countless text messages of Alex and Charles.

…

After that, your whole world seem to be falling apart.

You couldn’t even count the days where you just laid in bed and only stared at the ceiling waiting for the hours to past.

Neither Alex and Charles chatted you after. Leaving a big hole in your heart— a hole that only they can fill.

The break up was a stupid idea but it was either that or stay with a relationship that doesn’t value your feelings. They’ve hurted you, not physically but emotionally and you had every right to be angry.

You just wished that they said something to even comfort your tearing heart.

That’s all you wanted from the start. Words of affirmation and comfort from the ones you love.

Was it too much to ask?

…

Hi i am back, sorry for not posting in a while, i really had this writers block that just couldn’t leave😓😓 hope you enjoyed this angst though!!

[artist-in-training-wheels]

Updated designs as of: 8/20/24

Remember when I said I was knee-deep into SAMS/LAES? Welp, I still am- so here's my (mental) designs of all the core characters (Not scaled for height)! Some notes/extra thoughts under the cut :D Added their pallets to make coloring easier!

Main 4:

Work:

I swapped Sun and Moon waist thingy; I just think they would do that since they're close. Their arm ribbons were also changed to purple to match!

Moon has a cape instead of a ruffle like Sun because... idk, I think he'd like it!

Earth and Lunar also have matching cuffs; theirs is pale/light cobalt blue.

Gave Earth's dress more Princess vibes; why? Idk, just felt like she would like it!

Sun's joints can be seen since he hasn't died and been "placed" in a new/updated body!

Casual:

Moon and Earth (kinda) have casual outfits, so I thought I'd make something for Sun and Lunar.

Sun HAS his matching friendship bracelet with Dazzle- I finally decided to draw it ^^

Sun's shirt says, "Here comes the Sun" I feel it would mostly be a gag gift, but he likes it!

I almost gave him a sweater (cause he gives me sweater vibes, tbh), but then I saw his Q&A video and went, "damn, never mind, I guess".

Lunar's hoodie was also a gag gift (cause its color scheme is similar to Gemini)- but he likes it too much, plus it's soft :D

Made Earth's sweater a bit darker, mainly cause she has a lot of light colors already (the pink comes from the sprinkle sweater!)

I also feel like the boys would take off their bells when they're not working.

It was asked how and... idk they made an interdimensional portal- I'm sure they found a way to take off the bells lmao

The other 4:

I hate how I did Ruin's rays and hat. But nothing was working for me, so... oh well...

I gave Jack the two tips for his hat because I think he'd like those- same with the arm sleeves!

Also- yes he has a friendship bracelet with Dazzle- he keeps it protected under his arm sleeve, it's identical to Sun's!

I really like how Solar came out. Specifically his boots and shirt design!

He gives me knee boot vibes, so I gave him shoes with a sun and a moon on the back (they lace up just didn't feel like adding those details)

I Like how Eclipse came out- Miiiight redesign him... depending on how the Eclipse and Puppet Show goes, but for now, I'm content :)

I never mentioned it, but I do imagine that Eclipse has a second set of arms. I would think Solar did, too, but those were taken away during his revival because of the "Eclipse sees other Eclipses as inferior" stuff!

The Evil 4:

I made Dark Sun look like Regular Sun... cause that's kinda his whole thing! But if I were to give him a different outfit- it would be Eclipse's!

Few changes to Nexus (I can't take him or his model serious tbh, I kept laughing XD), decided to give his hat a Wither shard at the tip because power (and possible corruption) go BRRRRR (Side Note: Made an AU on it :D)

I'm not sure how visible it is, but on his right cheek, you can see a virus of some kind—I really like that, so I put it on him because I really like the idea of him slowly being corrupted due to his insanity!

He has a darker shade of boots similar to Solar because... well, Solar :)

World President Earth (or WP Earth) has a lovely wine-red dress with her flag as a cape (the same flag seen in the thumbnail)!

The flag is held together by a smiley pin because why not =)

Evil Lunar (while tempting to go with Current Lunar design) has the design of the previous version because, well... that's the form he gained the power in (from my understanding)

The tip of his hat is a dying Star because that feels appropriate, in my opinion.

I MIGHT do Foxy, FC, Monty, and Puppet, but I'm not too sure, tbh, since my mental image isn't too far off from their models. Anyways, time to return to my little gremlin hole and watch the series :)

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

a break.

© @sonsofeorl.

ANGEL REYES.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @girlnovels: hi sorry! now realizing I sent a request to your main instead of here 😳 it was 5 and 8 from the prompt list for angel or any of the guys honestly and just how god tier it'd be?

❝ prompts: “Stop ignoring me, it’s driving me crazy”. / “You interrupt my reading once more, and this book will become a lethal weapon”.

❝ words: about 750.

❝ warnings: nsfw, cockwarming.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

The workload has increased the last week in the scrapyard, joining Angel's job with the MC to create an atmosphere of loneliness inside your home. Accepting that he'd continue having to spend more time in the clubhouse, you went to a bookstore EZ recommended you to buy a book and devour it during these days, as you used to. Just in a couple of hours you had read half of it, finding the story more interesting than you imagined when you glanced over the summary before taking it with you. And you were in the best bit when the front door of your place was opened. Raising your eyes from the book, you found your tired boyfriend dragging his boots on the floor, closing the entry behind his back and just sighing. He walked towards you to place an exhausted kiss on your forehead, disappearing after that to your room.

An hour has passed since then. Angel has taken a shower, eaten something and slept for some minutes —before starting to call your attention. He has sat on the couch in front of you clearing his throat. He has put your favorite tv show on TV. He has changed his seat to the sofa you're lying on, putting your legs over his to caress them, poke them and pinch them. But nothing works. Angel rolls his eyes to the back of his head, snorting annoyed while standing up on his bare feet. He has had an idea. One that never fails. His ace in the hole.

Your concentration is fucked up when a sweet but strong male scent fills your nostrils down to your lungs. You can't help but lick your lips unconsciously, glancing at him above the written letters on the paper.

“You interrupt my reading once more, and this book will become a lethal weapon”.

“Stop ignoring me, it’s driving me crazy!” He whines, settling himself between your legs and sinking his face onto your stomach.

His tattooed arms surround your body, taking a deep breath from the smell of your shirt. It smells like him. At least, you haven't forgotten him.

“Goddammit, Angel… you're such a baby”.

“Yes, I am”. He admits between grunts against your belly.

Leaving the book away over the coffee table, you land both hands on his head to stroke his hair. Your boyfriend snakes among your legs, crawling over your body until facing you. His smile gives you goosebumps, still looking tired but not enough to spend some time with you. And that's sweet. Really sweet. Now, you feel bad for ignoring him since he came. Regretting the fact that you could have had a shower together.

“Read for me”. Angel hums in a petition, moving his ringed hands to nail them on your hips.

If he's hard, you're soaked. And you can feel it when he rocks his pelvis in a tortuous slow motion. You gulp a knot within your throat, grabbing again the book with a trembling hand, noticing his fingers touring your skin down to the gems of your shirt to be slid beneath it. Your boyfriend rolls down your lace panties through your thighs, slightly wet because of the friction against his body until throwing them to the floor. You stare at him in silence, watching Angel undress himself and discovering he was only wearing a pair of short grey sweatpants. Nothing else under that piece of clothing.

Breathing through your parted lips, you see him pumping his glorious hard dick as he bites his bottom lip, slowly lying down back to between your legs. Keeping your eye contact, Angel digs his hardness with no rush into your cunt. You feel how it forces your entry at first before a delicious pop as his glans comes in. You can't help but moan with a low high-pitched tone, closing tightly your fingers around the covers of your book. Your drenched walls adjust to his thick cock causing you pleased tickles in your lower belly, crying out his name inevitably when all his weight is on top of you and his balls-buried deep inside your pussy.

“You feel so good, mi reina”. He purrs sinking into your neck. “Make this moment perfect and read for me… I need to be inside you, hearing your lovely voice”.

If you thought that Angel wanting to spend time with you even if he's like a dead body right now, wanting to be connected with you —not in an entirely sexual way— it has reached the maximum level of sweetness.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans @fanofalltheficsx @aurelie-celine

[inglourious-imagines]

Thank You For Your Loving (Donald Malarkey x Fem!Reader)

Requested by: @captaintrissy

Summary: The reader and Malarkey finally confess their warm feelings.

Prompt: 16 - Thank you for loving me when I still tasted of heartache and war.

Warning: some swear words and that's all I guess

Author's Note: This took me AGES to write and I apologize for that! Hopefully, the frequency will get better. Thank you for trusting me with your request. Also, I'm sad to inform you that I do not write ships, sorry!

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans  @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @stressedinadress @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox @happyveday @order-of-river-phoenix

Masterlist   Taglist   Prompt list

.

.

.

Something was pressing into her back causing her to shift every now and then, the frozen ground sending chills through her whole body as the fierce wind was forcing her to slide even deeper into the small foxhole.

“This is fucking it.” Y/N mumbled. Her hands were tucked into her pockets, her chin was hidden in the green paratrooper coat that, even though it was something more than the regular jacket, however, didn’t keep her or anyone in the company warm enough.

As a kid, Y/N adored winter, it was her favourite season. Running around in the snow, watching the beautiful snowflakes fall to the ground, breathing in the fresh air, all that she used to love with her whole heart. But now? Now? How could her heart love again the dangerous winter when her fingers were so frozen from the instant cold that she almost wasn’t able to hold her rifle steady, when her bloodshot eyes couldn’t rest for even a minute, when there was no light to look up to?

Just the never-ending forest and then snow, snow, snow, snow…

“Why so grumpy, Y/N?” a familiar voice filled the air making her roll her eyes in response.

“What do you think, Muck, huh? What do you fucking think?” she responded, not bothering to look at the soldier when talking.

“You better shut up, Skip, or she kills you before the Krauts can even try to do so.” Penkala, who was positioned right next to the paratrooper, joked nudging his friend’s side.

:readmore:

Normally, Donald Malarkey would join the conversation by now, as he always did, but it seemed so wrong to him to even make a sound at the moment. His eyes scanned Y/N’s body carefully, taking in all the details the boys probably overlooked or weren’t taken that seriously, as they eventually settled on her deep Y/E/C eyes.

“Hey, is Y/L/N here?” Doc Roe suddenly appeared right next to their foxhole. When he noticed her so curled up in the corner of the place, a small tired smile crept on his face. It broke his heart to pull her out of her current position, when he knew how hard it is to find one comfortable enough to try to fall asleep, even for just a few minutes.

“Lieutenant Winters wants to talk to you.” Eugene spoke again offering her a hand to help her stand up which she gladly accepted. A sharp sting of jealousy went through Malarkey’s heart suddenly as he watched them walk away together, still hand in hand. His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes burning holes into their back as they eventually disappeared in the milky fog.

“I swear to God, if you don’t tell her the next moment you meet her, I’m gonna do it for you.” Muck broke the silence again, this time smirking in Don’s direction. He’d been aware of his love-struck gaze nearly for over two years now but to his surprise, his buddy never said anything, to him, to Alex, but most importantly to her.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Malarkey mumbled, immediately looking somewhere in the distance with burning cheeks which gave him away to the two best friends of his.

Both of them erupted in a quiet laughter that only caused his cheeks to redden more and more with each giggle. “You say a word about it and you’re dead men.”

***

Y/N walked out of the officer’s tent slowly, with a soft smile plastered on her face. She was so worried and anxious the entire walk there about what possibly might be that important when Lieutenant sends for a Private. Winters was just curious how she, as the only female in the Airborne, in the US Army actually, is doing and whether she needs anything.

“You good?” his voice interrupted her trail of thoughts, his voice that she’d recognize anywhere anytime.

“Perfectly fine, soldier.” Y/N smirked, truly unadulterated smirked, in what seemed like an eternity already. To Malarkey, the woods suddenly appeared brighter, less gloomy and his heart was beginning to fill with hope again. All thanks to the form of one’s lips, her lips, that he’d longed to touch since the hot summer in Toccoa.

“You’re in a good mood.” he stated as they walked to their foxhole together, side by side, their hands brushing against the other every other second. “It’s nice to see you like this again.”

Y/N sent him a gleaming smile with an inconspicuous wink that was worth a million words.

“It’s nice to be alone with you again.” she paraphrased his previous sentence, leaning into his side and grabbing his cold hand. Donald was so surprised by her sudden movement and words actually that he wasn’t able to react in any way for a couple of seconds. Slowly, he gave in, melting under her tender touch as he tried to enjoy his every moment with her.

“Thank you for loving me when I still tasted of heartache and love.” she mumbled quietly but loudly enough only for Malarkey to hear. He immediately stopped in his tracks, making her stop walking as well, both of them staring into each others’ eyes.

“You know?” he gasped. His gaze averted quickly from her, blushing already for the second time this day.

“Of course, I know, Don. I’d have to be really oblivious to not see those looks when I look at you the very same way.”

Neither of the young innocent people knew how close they’d gotten to each other over the years, it just seemed so natural to them to be always side by side. It was like finding the right words to say, to explain yourself in a way you couldn’t had done in the past.

“Well, that’s relieving to hear.” Don chuckled making Y/N smile even wider.

And then, as if the whole universe was watching the scene unfold, their lips finally met as the sun peeked out from behind a dark cloud to steal a look at the young love giving another newborn hope to the broken world.

[musicnoots]

All Roads Lead Me Back To You

Donald Malarkey/Reader

Prompt “You’re yawning again” requested by anon

A/N: comfort with soft!malarkey. love without conditions. 3.2k.

Synopsis: You and Don reconnect after he comes home from the war.

Tags: @gottapenny @dustyjjumpwings @those-dusty-jump-wings @floydtab @wexhappyxfew @meteora-fc @majwinters @dumpofdumblings @rayleighshughes @bandofmarvels @medievalfangirl @curraheev @junojelli @yeahcurrahee @not-john-watsons-blog @alienoresimagines @inglourious-imagines @david-weepster @evelyn-shelby

“You’re yawning again.”

His voice sounds foreign, it feels different. 

Don’s home. Three years later than he promised you back in 1942, he showed up at your doorstep with nothing but his dress greens on and a familiar smile plastered on his face. 

He looks different—he looks older, somehow. You wonder if his eyes had always been this dark, or if his hair always had a tinge of brown rather than the red you grew up with. He smells a bit different, too, compared to the familiar scent of seawater and fresh linen you’ve grown used to, he now smells of burning wood and faintly of cigarettes. He’s grown, you admit, from the boy next door who loved to gift you flowers when the sun glittered golden, to a hero adored by many. 

You remember your most cherished memories on the rooftop of Don’s childhood home, hot summer nights spent watching the younger kids ride their bikes past the streetlight and back, imitating the horns from the boats that reside in the port just mere miles away, enjoying a nice glass of cola together. Oftentimes, you would have stayed there until his father came to crash the party and send you home, but on nights where you and Don were lucky enough to stay until the sun rose again, you’d lay in each other’s arms and listened to the birds chirp the music of Ravel and Satie. On the rooftop where you laid your head on his lap when times were simpler. It became a place where you’d fallen in love with him, another home, though, you wonder if home wasn’t a place but rather the people you love.

This time, you sit upon the tiles of the roof for the first time since Don left in a desperate attempt to make up for lost time.

“Huh?” Your croak. You’re starting to fall asleep on your arms, knees pulled up to your chest. The younger kids down the block, now several years older, have gone in for the night, and you don’t exactly know what time it is.

He rubs your shoulder, the other hand holding a half drunk bottle of Coca Cola and one in yours to match. “You’re yawning, Y/N.”

You’d been cooped up on the rooftop, telling him everything that had happened since he left for the army. Did he ever watch all those new Rita Hayworth films? Did his mom ever tell him about how little Molly dropped out of high school? Did he know that you visited his parents while he was away and every time they asked if you heard from him, you’d always tell them no because he barely ever wrote back to you?

“Y/N,” he repeats again, and this time you look up. He’s still as handsome as when he left all those years ago—red hair, blue eyes, and a kind mouth that knew when to get smart. “Look at me,” he cups your cheek and brings you to face him, “did you get more beautiful while I was gone?”

“God, shut up,” you scoff, lightly punching his shoulder as he laughed. There was the Donald Malarkey you knew growing up. “I swear you may look like a man, Don, but I know there’s a twelve year old hiding in your brain somewhere.”

“And you really haven’t changed a bit, Y/N. Not one bit. You’re still my best friend, you know that?”

“Oh, so you haven’t replaced me.”

“Replaced?” he laughs. “I’ve met a lot of weird and strange men in the paratroopers, but no one has ever come close to you, Y/N, and I swear on my mom by that.”

You roll your eyes, smiling a bit. “Sure.”

“I mean it!” he exclaimed. “They used to ask me: Malark, you got a girl back home? and I would always tell them Nah, but I got myself a Y/N. And I think that’s better than any girl waiting for their handsome G.I.”

The smile lingers on your lips for a little while longer. You’re sitting right next to him, practically attached to the hip, but it feels like nothing has changed since he left. He talks to you as if he didn’t just pack up his bags and left for three years to fight a war—you guess there’s a part of you that just wants to continue where things left off, but you know it’s different now. 

“The kids down the block, they’ve grown up since you left,” you sigh. “Just like the way we did. They remind me of us.”

Don raises his eyebrows and looks at you in amusement. “Did they take the frogs from the pond near the school and make a little swamp for them in their backyard?”

You scoff. “Oh, stop—that was you and you only!”

“Me? From what I remember, you didn’t want to leave the frogs because you were scared they were going to get lost like they don’t know the goddamn place, so I took all four of them and we made a house for them in my backyard,” he said, smiling a bit. “The things I do for you, Y/N…”

“Don’t act like I haven’t done anything for you!”

“Oh, c’mon!” he ruffles the top of your head and you laugh. “God, I’ve missed you and all the stupid shit we do up here…”

The grin on your lips slowly fades away as you start to feel the growing pit in your stomach that something isn’t right about this. 

The last time you and Don had spent the night up on the roof, the night before he left for the army, you remember was your most prized memory with him. A Coca Cola in each of your hands and bellies full of his mom’s world winning apple pie, the stars shined brighter than the whites of either of your teeth, and you could have sworn the moment was perfect as it was. You remember the atmosphere being muddy between you two. He told you he was joining the army the morning of and had you known your best friend was going to leave you for three years fighting a war he didn’t have to fight, you would have stopped being foolish and kissed him. But he beat you to it. 

“So, how was Europe?” you question. You tread on shallow waters asking him, but it was inevitable, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

He shrugs. “It was okay. Pretty at least, could have been prettier if it weren’t for the destroyed buildings and bullet holes through the walls.” Already, you can tell there’s something wrong just from the way he talks. It’s different, it’s almost as if he’s trying to hide something from you. “It fucked me up, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You frown when he runs his hands over his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t write me back after I sent that letter in November. Not even your parents. What the hell happened, Don?”

“I lost a lot of friends, good friends, too. They were great. They deserved only the best, and now they’re dead, Y/N,” he says in a shallow breath. “Skip and Alex—they were my best buds throughout the war, I think I told you about them in a letter. They got hit by a German shell back in Belgium. After that, there was nothing of them anymore. They were blown to shreds, Y/N,” he whimpers. “I went to look for them and oh my God...there was only blood and dirt. Not even their used cigarette boxes or letters from home, all there was...was this!” He pulls out a cross with a couple broken rosary beads, still unwashed. His hand shakes when he shows it to you as if they’re sacred because in his mind, it’s all he has left of them. “They were my best pals.”

You let out a deep sigh and place a hand on his shoulder. You don’t know what to say. 

Perhaps that’s why he’s different this time around. The amount of trauma he holds in his heart, replaying in his head like the recurring melody of a song, you don’t know if you can ever understand the extent of his memories. 

You’re not asking for his war memoirs, rather, you ask for safe passage to his heart. 

“I don’t regret joining the army, though,” he continues. “I met some really good guys, and I’m proud to have served with them when the duty called, but I lost a lot of them. Skip, Alex...my buddy Joe lost his leg in Belgium, too.” He fiddles with the broken rosary beads in between his thumb and index finger. “Couldn’t sleep after that, war is so...fucked up. I believed those stupid war stories ol’ Howard down the street used to tell us when were in grade school, I just wished he’d told us how death becomes reality.”

The look on Don’s face is somber. You knew all of the people he described to you through the letter he sent you and, in a way, you felt as if you’d known them but nowhere to the extent and connection he had. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, and honestly, you don’t know what else to say. There was never a book on how to console your best friend after they come home from war and even if there was, you know it wouldn’t match up to the sober feeling that stands in between you and him.

“Yeah,” he says, almost as if he, too, is speechless, and you don’t blame him. If you went through something as traumatic as he did, if you ever lost Don, you couldn’t imagine what you would do yourself.

“It hurts me knowing that you went through this alone and I was here...doing nothing, finishing college, watching all those Rita Hayworth movies she made all while wishing you were here to watch it with me,” you sigh. “I’m not asking for you to make me understand—I don’t need to, unless you want me to. I’m sorry if I’m just spewing out shitty words that don’t mean anything to you, they don’t really teach you this in school.”

“No, Y/N, you’re alright. Being here with you after so long...it’s more than enough,” he nods and shoves the broken rosary back into the pocket of his pants. Silence. Don takes a sip of hit soda, the sugary liquid dribbles down the corner of his mouth and he wipes it off with the back of his hand. “You know I was sent to Paris not long after we arrived in Austria...” he says, “and I was gonna write back to you then, but...it didn’t seem right. Not after I left you waiting for months, years, even.”

You shake your head and smile. “Don, you could have left for five, ten years and not written me back and I'd still send you one in a heartbeat.”

The look on his face reeks of uncertainty, but he’s your best friend, and you know he’d do the same for you. You know that because the moment stepped back in Astoria, he’d dropped his bags off at his parents’ and gone straight to you. 

“You come here often?” he asks, and the initial question surprises you.

“No,” you tell him. “Was waiting for you. It’s just not the same without you sitting next to me.”

“No boyfriend?”

“No,” you chuckle and shake your head, lifting the bottle of soda for a sip. You wonder if he remembers what he said the night before he left, but your gut tells you not to mention it, just in case if those feelings changed, too. “No boyfriend.”

You remember the night before he left, how the words slipped from his lips so naturally, clearer than the skies that allowed for the stars to shine through—he could have serenaded you with his words then, and you wouldn’t have noticed anyways. 

“I’m sorry,” he says and hangs his head low.

You knit your eyebrows together. “Why are you sorry? You have no reason to be sorry.”

Don takes another sip of his drink. He stares at the street in front of the house, trying to avoid your worrying gaze. “I’m different. I’m not the same boy you grew up calling your best friend, you know? I think...if I had returned your letters, we wouldn’t be sitting here like two grown adults catching up with each other over a bottle of Coca Cola, I wouldn’t have to explain myself so that you’d understand why I’m not the same—this is just...it’s just bullshit!”

“Don.”

“The reason why I didn’t write you back is because I didn’t think you cared anymore. I felt like I wasn’t making an effort to keep in touch with you not because I didn’t care—I cared a whole lot—but because I didn’t know where to pick up from,” he says. “I was scared you didn’t care anymore.”

You frown. Don’s your best friend, but he acts like he’s just your friend. As if he didn’t threaten to beat up the schoolyard bullies in second grade when you got that horrendous haircut, or when he denied a chance to go to prom with Lucy from English class and instead asked you because it felt like the ‘right thing to do.’ Don has always mattered, whether or not he was with you physically, not because he’s your best friend but because, in a way, it was his existence that made everything feel alright.

“No, Don,” you cup his cheek and lift his head to face you. There are tears in the corner of his eyes and he frantically blinks them away.  “I’ve always cared. I’ve cared since the day your mom invited me for cookies and we ended up having a sleepover back in the first grade, you remember that?”

He nods. “Sugar cookies. They ran out of chocolate chips at the store.”

You find it quite beguiling how suddenly having someone back in your life made everything feel whole again—it’s like Don’s homecoming filled a hole that consumed your heart for the last three years. He was always there to catch you when you were at your worst, and you were there for him. You like to think you and Don were made for each other, maybe it was your inner seventeen year old being foolish again, but you’ve always believed it was true when he used to hold you against his chest on nights like these; when your sodas were still fizzy and the tears in his eyes didn’t exist.

Don leans against you, his cheek rests on your shoulder and you swear, it almost was like what it was before. “I miss the way we used to hang out here,” he says. “I remember we used to sneak up here to eat the rest of my mom’s cookies after bedtime every time. Then the cookies turned into sea salt caramel and then Butterfingers and then, we went to college, Hershey bars.”

You and Don went to college together before he joined the army. It’s a distant memory that still hangs on, but they were good memories. You just wish he was there with you for the last three years. “You know, I used to hang up your letters on my wall while you were gone?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Gave me the motivation to finish my degree.” You still have them. “Knowing that you were somewhere out there doing whatever you needed to do, I knew you’d come home to me.”

He smiles, and he does it because he knows you’re not looking. “The night before I left...I thought about it. A lot.”

“I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one who does.”

“I thought about you,” he admits. “I thought about how much I missed you and how bad I wanted to sit up here with you and do nothing. I thought about what I said to you, and everyday I wish I’d done more than just say those three words.”

You hum. 

“I wish I wrote those words down in the letters I sent you. I had three years to write three words at least once, and I didn’t. I didn’t know if you still wanted me because I wasn’t with you. I still don’t know if you want me now.”

“I do.”

It’s silent for a short moment, almost sweet. You think it’s because Don’s starting to believe you now. He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck. “I...I'm sorry for creating this between us. If I had only returned your letters, maybe we would have been closer. Maybe then I wouldn’t have put you in this situation.”

“Look at us. All those years you spent training to become a soldier, fighting a war, and we’re still the kids we used to be, drinking soda on the roof of your house.” You rub his arm. “You could have been away for many more years, and still, I would have waited for this moment, to be with the man I’ve loved since junior year of high school.”

It was so much easier than you’d ever thought it would be. Actually, saying it wasn’t the scary part, no—you could have said it without thinking beforehand and still meant it—it was watching Don’s reaction.

First came confusion, understanding, and eventually, joy.

He lifted himself off your shoulder and turned around to look at you, and you reached out to trace the shape of his eyebrow, eyes scanning the rest of his face to come to the conclusion that he’s still as handsome as when he left. He’s so close that you can hear his heartbeat, and maybe if you lean a little closer, feel it. 

“Junior year?” The words leave his lips silently as a sheet of folded tissue paper.

You nod. “Junior year. I think it was when we watched the football team get crushed by forty-two points, but maybe it was way before—I’m not so sure. But what I do know is that, the guy I’ve had a massive crush for years, I have him now.”

“You call that massive?” he laughs and you lean against his shoulder, he takes your hand into his. “I’ve had a crush on you since junior high!”

You smile. You try to recall every moment you and Don shared back in junior high to figure out when exactly he fell for you, but there’s just too much. You like to think that he fell in love as the years passed and you both grew from teenagers into young adults, and you, too oblivious of the fact that he might be your person, your shining star in a galaxy of a billion. 

In a way, you both knew this was bound to happen. Regardless if Don spent five, ten, twenty years overseas, you would’ve still waited for him, because he’ll come home no matter what. Every road he takes will always lead him back to you.

You look up at Don. He’s grinning and parts his lips to speak, but you place a hand on the back of his neck and kiss him, and forever wed your dreams that were once thought to be unattainable; under the same stars those dreams were formed. This moment seemed like forever, as the sun and moon bid each other goodbye and the kids down the block ride their bikes down to the nearby diner, there’s nowhere else you would rather be than in his arms, his touch, his lips...

Finally.

[rmfantasysetpieces1]

Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, wherever you are listening, I am richard murray and the following is the May 13th 2021 Neymar's PSG episode of my thoughts, In the Beginning I heard a setpiece... I saw the Coupe de France semifinal between PAris Saint Germain and Montpellier and I noticed a few things. One, Kylian Mbappe likes Coach Poch in the way Neymar does. I saw Mbappe go over to Poch in a way he never did Tuschel and Neymar similarly earlier this season. Two, Poch hasn't been able to undo the defensive wobbles started under Tuschel. Three, outside Mbappe , PSG's squad is mostly resigned for next season(s) and still hungry for everything. Four, Moise Keane problem is he is not on a favorable loan , Icardi is on a large contract, CR7 is rumoured to be on his way and needs his spot. Five, the most important.

PAris Saint Germain is equivalent to Argentina. The problem with Paris Saint Germain, PSG, is that the preferred squad don't have a natural midfield. Often in the soccer world the term false 9 is utilized or 46 is displayed as a structure. What do either term mean? ...False 9 mean no player exists statically as a forward, a player that is in constant close proximity to a defender. ... a 46 system mean you have four defenders and six midfielders. The problem is, Argentine or PSG play a 46 but it is not four defenders and six midfielders or a false 9, it is four defenders and six forwards or a false 8. If you look at the forward trio of Neymar/Di Maria/Mbappe you see danger left right or center. But neither player is good back to goal or plays the poacher. Ideally , Keane who is a true number nine and Icardi who is a poacher, a specialized number 9 essentially, need to play together up high to keep backlines honest. while right under them is Mbappe/Neymar/Di Maria But this set up means you have a 4132 Verratti as the lone midfielder and since Verratti isn't box to box or a long range passer, he is more like a specialized  creative midfielder, speciality in defensive interception. Thus, PSG have six players above the back four who don't naturally play above the back four but on the opposing teams backline. In parallel, when Messi/Di Maria/Higuain/Dybala/Correa/Aguero do likewise for the Argentina flag team, they are playing a false eight. When the six in question are midfielders the 46 is in truth 4-6-0 but when the six in question are forwards, the 46 is in truth 4-0-6 When Spain utilized the 4-6-0 they used a possession based style BUT they had a team of midfielders led by Xavi. Xavi/Iniesta/Busquets/Silva/Cesc/Villa all played as midfielders. Villa is more an attacking midfielder than a center forward during his time at Barcelona. When Argentina or PSG try to play possession they can't do it like Spain. What needs to change? When you have six midfielders, they will control the motion of the team from defend to attack or attack to defense like midfielders. But when you have six forwards, they are only looking to be released. And that is the strategic hole in PSG or Argentina. I do not have the statistics but I bet PSG show the best control over a match the more passes their defenders make that go by an opposing line. When I think about PSG in the latter stages against MCFC, it is on full view. MCFC in the two thousand and twenty one uefa champions league is a 4-6-0 PSG is a 4-0-6. When MCFC pressed eratically, and aided the PSG defenders in finding passes to break through lines of pressure. PSG flew. When MCFC after the half of the first leg and afterward, waited for PSG to play through them and pressed at the halfway line , not more thoroughly, the defenders of PSG stopped passing through lines or pressure and forced PSG's 4-0-6 to play like a 4-6-0 and that went nowhere. What does this mean for PSG ? Mbappe/Neymar/Di Maria is a trident and Verratti is fair support but they don't offer what the system needs to be complete. Keane plus ICardi are needed. Keane is needed to play back to goal and Icardi is needed to goal poach. Why? The defenders need at least two players to play the long ball too. why? When you have a 4-0-6 system, the midfield doesn't naturally exists so the defenders passing needs to be to amongst each other short or crossing at least one line of pressure , always or most of the time. Usually in PSG, Verratti plays the creative midfield role, the problem, Verratti doesn't have the passing range or skills to break through midfields of two or three or four to reach the five forwards. Thus, Neymar drops back as the false 8. But, teams realize if you blockade Verratti or kick out Neymar, PSG are always count on a back foot.  So the defenders have to set the tone and pass forward across lines. How often has MArquinhos/Kimpembe/BAkker/Kurzawa/Florenzi passed to verratti/Neymar/di Maria playing the false 8 role? That pass has to be reduced or cut out. Do PSG defenders making line cutting passes most of the time are sure fire strategic element? no. Will teams figure it out ? without a doubt. Will all the interceptions or aerial balls make the game seem disjointed compared to low ball play? yes. But, it will serve the function. PSG's desired starting 11 don't have a natural midfield and one or two or three midfielders adjusting to a situation and becoming the forward or forwards supported by five to two midfielders is not mirrored by one or two or three forwards adjusting to a situation and becoming the midfield or midfielders between the defense and five to two forwards. Now , with the strategic element I suggest ...of PSG defenders passing most of the time cross lines of pressure, the structure of PSG is irrelevant. 433 or 4231 or et cetera will mold or shift in a match as opponents shift or adjust but the strategic element forces the forward six to play daring the back line of opposing teams when PSG is in their half. OR, forces the forward six to make more horizontal motions when psg is in the opposing half. I end with a simple truth. The big money attacking players are happy at PSg. DI MAria/Neymar/Draxler all resigned. Sarabia/Icardi have contracts through next season already. Mbappe has not resigned with psg but with troubles in Real Madrid or FC Barcelona on various fronts, Mbappe may stay. The problem PSG has is not in the quality of their defenders but what they are being asked to do. Asking defenders to also play as midfielders only leads to trouble. You can't ask players who have to look out for offsides and intercept runs to also play as the midfield controllers box to box. But, you can ask defenders to act as deep lying playmakers, whose long balls may lead to nothing but can lead to success. During a coming PSG match I will try to see if I can count how many line splitting passes PSG make, with some notion of time, but even if I fail to, I ask you listeners to think on what I said.

This ends this episode, be safe Blog (remember to sign in to the newsletter) http://rmfantasysetpieces1.over-blog.com/

[randynova]

𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 ℋ𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓎 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈

sᴏʀᴇɴ x ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑆𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑤𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒.

◆◆◆

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ(s): sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ sᴇx, ᴠᴀɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴘʀᴀɪsᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴘɪᴇ

◆◆◆

𝘈.𝘕.: 𝘚𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘵! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥.

Edited: I have not really changed much from the fc, just the appearance of the fic itself when someone first looks at it.

♡♡♡♡

Coarse Groans filled the empty chambers of Soren's bedroom, mixing with the thick, hot air - it was almost suffocating. The moonlight poured in through the windows and illuminated the dark room, only revealing two figures within a mess of blankets.

 The bed rocked back and forth, creaking in protest underneath the weight whilst the frame hits the stone wall with every powerful thrust. The noise bounced throughout the castle halls for sure - most likely will the two receive complaints in the morning. But for now, the outside world didn't exist as it was only them, in such an intimate and euphoric moment. 

One special way of showing their love for one another.

His collased hands clasped your hips, pulling you closer to him as he drilled his member into you. Quick yet gentle passionate strokes sent ripples of pleasure throughout your body, you couldn't help but let out a broken cry. Soren knew how to unwind your body, remembering every delicate touch that made you moan with pleasure. 

"God, I can't…," Soren groans, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back in pure ecstasy. He tries biting back a groan but your cunt clenched around his pulsing member, he couldn't help but let out a breathy moan. "You feel so good..!"

His praises made a scarlet hue appear on your flushed face, yet, you wanted to hear more. To hear more of his husky voice as he pounds into you. God, you needed more but it all quickly became too much-

A strangled moan slipped past your lips, unwinding beneath Soren and spilling your juices over his cock as your orgasm hit you like a million bullets. Your vision turned dark for a few moments, seeing stars as you tried to catch your breath. But it was short lived. The blonde grinned, letting you ride out your orgasm as he thrusted gently, only to sharply ram his cock once more deeply.

Short and fervent thrusts, it merely made your head spin. Soren paused and tossed your right leg over his broad shoulders. He picked up the pace and thrusted in an avid rhythm. It seemed as if he were trying to make the castle residents hear your cries.

Strangled mewls drawled out from your lips, reaching Soren's ears and sending a rapturous thrill through him. His eyes trailed over your body, he couldn't help but groan at the voluptuous sight. Every curve and inch of you looked angelic, your lewd face only kindling the growing fire within him. What a sinful sight before him,  yet, it was so holy at the same time.

"So beautiful. You're taking me so well, [Name]." Soren whispers, his eyebrows knitted together whilst he works. His voice sounded smooth and sweet like honey to your ears, but the pleasure took you attention once again. You arch your back as Soren thrusts deep into your drenched hole. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and open your mouth, strangled, broken cries barley leaving you.

He let you leg fall back down and grasps your hips, thrusting forward and bringing you closer with a harsh tug. His whine went unnoticed by you and a sly smile makes its way to your lips. He's reaching his limit.

Your sweaty bodies pressed tightly together as short heavy pants escaped both of your lips.  Soren buries his head in the crook of your neck, sucking at the velvet skin and digging his teeth in. It was surely going to leave a bruise in the morning to come. You hiss, shivering as his wet muscle dragged itself along the abused area, only to be bit again. You squeezed his shoulders, digging your nails in his shoulders and receiving a low growl from him. 

"[Name]..."

Soren gained a surge of energy, relishing in the pain he received. A small sign of your pleasure. Soren praised for a moment and began to ram himself into your tight cunt. Sudden bold strokes of his thick member against your slick, lower lips ripped melodious moans from your throat. He never failed to make you feel as if your were in heaven and making you experience pure white bliss over and over again.

Soren felt the coil in his stomach tighten, causing him to jerk roughly into you. He leaned down near your ear and pressed light kisses against your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and gently tugging it. A whimper leaves you. 

Soren  grins. You drag your fingers through his hair and slightly tug at the. He grunts.

"Soren…" 

Your sultry voice brought him out of his drunken trance, his movements ceasing almost completely. Soren's tender cerulean eyes gazed into yours, his eyelids fluttering halfway as he lifted himself, awaiting your answer with a small smile. Your heart fluttered at his expression, taking in his appearance. 

Messy blonde locks sticking in every direction, some strands falling and sticking to his face. Small droplets of sweat running down his skin, his eyebrows sheened as they collected it. His cheeks flushed bright pink, as well as the tip of his ears - though more of a red hue. His lips slightly parted as small pants left him. His mesmerizing eyes transfixed on you, nothing but love and joy filling them. 

You took him in as a whole and, despite the moment, you felt tears well at the corner of your eyes, blurring your vision. This man, and never would you get tired of saying it, still was beautiful in every way - so selfless, loving, brave, and the list goes on. Not even a newly discovered language describe the love you felt for him.

"I love you, you know…?" You whispered, running your fingers through his blond tresses, and pulling them back. Your hand caresses his face, gently running a thumb over his cheek, afraid he might pull away

A grin finds its way to his face, the corner of his eyes crinkling whilst his orbs brighten. Through the tears, you can make out his dilated pupils. It ent the tears cascade down your face. That look you'll never get tired of no matter what. Filled with so much love.

"I know. I love you too, [Name].., " Soren murmurs, pressing his slick forehead against yours and nuzzling his nose with yours. "So, so much. I love every inch of you and who you are."

Soren presses his lips to yours, tilting his head and nibbling at your bottom lip whilst running his tongue over it. You press back to his and  slightly open your mouth, but as soon as you do, Soren darts his wet muscle in. 

His tongue gently massaged yours, swirling around it as you tried to dominate him. He flicks his tongue, but you bite down softly. 

Wrong move. Despite being a playful guy, Soren likes to be the lead when it comes to kissing. His tongue explores every nook and cranny, not leaving any territory untouched until the need for air became unbearable. 

Soren hesitantly pulls away, a string of saliva connecting to both your lips. You lips barely graze each other, pants leaving and easing  the smoldering fire within your lungs.

Soren smirks, winking at you. What a hot fucking mess you were.

You roll your eyes and try to hook your legs around his waist, but they fall at the sensation of the fire igniting in your thighs. A small whimper slips and at that moment, Soren takes his chance. You gasp as he filled you completely, your hands falling to the crimson cotton sheets and clutching them between your fingers. More. You needed more but yet, it was all so overwhelming. 

Soren pecked at your velvet skin once more, softly pressing his lips and causing you to shut your eyes. He digs his teeth in, meshing the soft tissue between his teeth and begins sucking. He smirks against your skin as he hears a soft moan escape your swollen lips. "You're so beautiful, [Name]..." 

"You keep telling me that, baby," you mewl, your hands trailing down to his shoulders. Your [eye color] orbs meet his loving gaze. "Why?"

"Because it's true. And I'll keep saying it. You're one of the most beautiful and amazing people I've ever had the chance to meet - and I'm lucky to have you as mine." Soren presses a sweet kiss to your temple, drawing away after a few seconds and smiling. "Nothing will change that. Ever."

"You're a cheesy doofus, you know that?" You whimper, the tears prickling once more in the corner of your eyes. "But you always know how to make me feel like a jewel." You break into a weak smile, leaning in to your boyfriend's face. 

Soren chuckles, nodding. He pressed his lips firmly against yours, slowly pulling away. "I know and it's because you deserve it."

He gently wraps his thick arms around your waist and clings to your small, aching frame. You arms instantly wrapped around his neck and your legs fall open to make more room. Once again, short and bold strokes slide in and out, leaving you with a gaping mouth.

"You're almost there, love..! You're doing such an amazing job, baby!" This sends his fluttering heart pounding. Your praise fueled him and he wanted to show his love and appreciation as best he could.

 Soren slams his hips into your sopping cunt, his cock eagerly stretching your tight walls. His member smoothly hits every sweet spot, leaving you breathless and at a loss of words. Even after so many times, Soren still surprised you and left you in a euphoric state. Only enticing moans escaped your mouth feeling his cock slide in and out.

The bed frame slams against the wall harshly, loudly banging for the world to hear. For a moment, you wondered if the wall got damaged from how it sounded. Or if the person on the other side heard it. Most likely.

Soren slowly pulls his member out until only the tip remained and quickly plunges it back in. His actions pull you out of your thoughts.

Soft whimpers left Soren as his thrusts became sloppy. Yet he still tried to pound into you as hard as he could. "S..Soren, you're so g-good, baby! Ah! "

"You t..too! Hnngh! So sw..sweet! Ah!" Soren releases a sweet little cry. "[Name]!"

Your walls clamp around his cock and you arch your back, feeling the coil quickly snap once more. You wrap yourself tightly around his form, squeezing his waist with your aching legs and raking your nails down his back. You desperately buck your hips against his as your orgasm hits once again.

Your juices cause a wet squelch with every messy, passionate stroke of his.

Soren hisses at your nail breaking his skin, clenching his jaw before thrusting, one, two, and slowly unloading. You hug his head and press it gently to your chest. 

Soren melts underneath your touch, thrusting into you one more time before crying out, his thick arms tightening around your form and biting harshly at your collarbone - surely leaving another bruise. He stills for a few seconds, a quiet moan slipping past his lips. You feel the soft twitch of his member, spilling his hot seed and filling you to the brim. 

 Heavy pants left Soren, his grasp on your frame loosening. 

Slowly, Soren pulls out, throwing a concerned look as you hiss. You give a reassuring smile but his eyes still cloud over with worry. His cum trickled and flowed onto the sheets. He pulls away and jumps off the bed. 

As soon as he left, your knees buckled and fell to the soft mattress beneath you, groaning as a wave of pain surged through you. Yup. You're definitely going to be sore tomorrow. 

Quickly, Soren reaches into the side table of the bed and pulls a few tissues out. He grabs a glass of water and drenches it, squeezing it dry after a few seconds. He peers at your tired form and huffs.

Soren gently parts your aching legs, gently wiping around your thighs and carefully in the more sensitive areas. An involuntary shiver goes through your body

Soren once more collapses onto the bed and wraps his burlap arms around you, pulling you close and snuggling. A smile graced his features and his eyes flutter shut.

"You're the best, [Name]. I love you."

◆◆◆

Bonus:

" 'Soren, I have received noise complaints all night from my soldiers resting within the castle. They all reported that you were the cause of it.' " A sly smirk plays at Gren's lips, his eyes landing on the young crowguard before him and General Amaya. 

Soren's face flushes pink, his gaze refusing to meet the furious, yet playful  glare of the woman before him. He couldn’t meet the General’s gaze without flushing a bright red. All he could think about was you and the activities you both partaken late into the night. And it didn’t help that you were training with the other soldiers in the courtyard - behind Amaya.

"Well, General, I, um- well, you see, t-the thing is," the blonde stuttered out, rubbing the back of his neck as he pauses. "I was having a nightmare and I tend to move a lot in my sleep, y'know?"

Who moans and starts assaulting their bed when having a nightmare? And addresses themselves as their significant other? Nope, this is bull-honkey.

Amaya peers at her friend, arching and eyebrow before returning her attention back to Soren. The smile on her face told all. She didn't but his story for a single second. Amaya began signing quickly, it took Gren by surprise before he picked up.

" 'Soren, I may not be around the castle as often as I'd like, but I've encountered lies better than yours, especially from my nephews. And I know what-', uh," Gren cleared his throat, pulling at his collar and biting back a chuckle. A blush bloomed across his freckled cheeks." 'I am aware of what a couple sounds like during intimate times.' "

Soren's smile fell whilst his eyes widened. He opened his mouth but only incoherent words fell out. It amused the young general at the sight of the blonde's reaction. She concluded she was correct and scoffed.

Amaya had a sly smirk and shook her head.

Ah, young love.

♡♡♡♡

Oh, hey, it's Randy and welcome to my blog.

Sorry if this was weird or confusing, I wrote this while i was tired. But nonetheless, hope you enjoyed it!

[kurou3gi-blog]

It means that an Arab acc ig supposed that Ji accepted jk because they were after the gay couple.Interesting to talk about it, because now that I remembered that a twitter account had something similar in 2019.And that the rumors about the gay couple had been strong since September 2018.But your anon has to remember that in order for Ji to save his ass and Ks's, he will lie about everything.I just find your attitudes strange these days.As if he had choked for years and wanted to speak the truth.

Tbh I know my thinking is more hell and overload every time XD  

And really knows that my words can harm, mess, lure even change someone mind.

That’s why after I say I had broken in to pieces, it hard to see I talk about exo before some anon ask me XD

And tried to warning everyone before below the content...

Like I say to other anons more than once that don’t forget that ji didn’t say anything about soo with him on his birthday at 2019. And that clip showed only soo and other happy birthday to ji... 

But are you sure it happened at 14th?

Are you sure everybody who we saw they met ji to happy birthday him were meet him at the same day?

Tbh his same cloth not guaranty that it happened on the same day, if we think of his hat-trick same cloth on soo’s early enlistment announcement period... That he went to met ravi, moon and went convenience store on different days in a row with same cloth..

That made some of us had doubted why he wore the same cloth!? XD

Tbh while I answered that previous anon I thought I may talk about why he kept but now he leaked...

But at last I was tired, so I chose to stop it than chose to spread more shade...

So if you want to know what I think why he leaked it....

Let’s go...

I think all of us and all of ekso knew about gay couple can ruin kr people life...

And It’s true...

But like we see some biggest movie pd could coming out with none of any effect because he is a one of big influencers in kr celluloid world... Everyone celebrated his wedding with his boyfriend at 60+ years old XD

So that mean if you have enough power or biggest back up... Gay issue can’t drag you down.... You will pass it even without any hurt...

And that why I used to say more than once that maybe they can coming out if they have enough power.

But like us and they knew... Gay couple issue will destroy their career if someone can unfolded them...

So... All of us think they were separated by some medias need to unfolded and esm tried to cover it....

But if we turn back to around late of 2015... When most of news medias trolled their a bit deep skinship moments on those award events pics at the same time...

Do you think it is just only accidental or willful by conspiracy term?

Tbh I still doubt since the event happened until now...

Why they all trolled those kind of pics to the world like need to say “We knew it!”

And if they knew it.... So, needed to tell esm about this for make money...

Then do you think how much esm must pay to these media?

But then...

If they already knew...

Why they wait until that time and tried to spread tea at the same time?

Even I think they knew it’s impossible to let’s esm pays a ton of money for their idols to them....

So...

They did it for what?

To tell esm for blackmail....

Or helped esm to press ji accept that kstal deal?

Or ......?

Then after those events, they didn’t trolled the combo pics like that again... - -”

To me it felt like a viral thing....

Happened and ended in one shot...

Full of doubt but I pretty sure I can’t clear it with 100%

Only doubt and doubt why blablabla but blablabla then blablabla? blablablabla...

More things since mid of 2015 until after kstal confirmed...  I felt like it make sense, none make sense and wthex at the same time....

But I only doubt and kept it inside because I think it’s hard to found the true answer...

So no need to try hard to clear it... Because I think we know something you should keep it in silence only...

Even you think it full of doubt an unfair thing, need more clear but no one answer you. So...

I think at first kd accepted about kstal issue with no doubt in esm’s decision...

But when it passed for a while... They have seen many things happen.... I think they started to doubt in what esm told them about their relationship issue effect...

The first thing that made me think like that is his ig live at late of 2018

But when I saw that his ig live that he shoot despite where the battery is running out. I think he know his battery is running out before shooing.  That why i full of question marks again with “he done ig live for what?”

And surprise to saw some comment under that ig live clip said his manager try to stop and said “rumor” before it end…

^^^Sorry if my parlance in these 2 paragraphs looks strange from others.... Because I copied and pasted 2 of them from my old content this.

And yes after I watched that live I felt like he need to tell us about the coming up of his dating issue...

Some of my questions in my head after saw it are... Why he did it? 

I think he knew if he trolled some of us can get his point... It’s mean we can see more analysis about how fake of jk...

Even at last ppl can feel only the girl’s delulu that beyond the truth. XD

Is it not make esm risk?

But like we see that none of it in surface except jk was confirmed...

Btw I still doubt why he chose to leak it... Not keep it in secret like it should be...

Even it looks like a viral ig live for kidding feeling than he did it for some result....

But maybe he need only someone get his trigger viral... Who knows...

Then if + cebu ig issues... That’s why I told that anon that this is not first time of his leakage on his ig...

Sometime I felt like he use his ig for testing some tricks... That it’s work or not...

For something in the future...

Ok back to main course again before I take you go far far away... XD

And these are why I think maybe they had doubted in esm words about gay couple effect...

But I think at first their doubt is only a sediment that waiting for the crystallization day...

The day that their last chain was broke...

I think if jk issue not coming up...

They may keep their doubt in silent until the last day....

But because of esm trolled jn issue to ji again...

Maybe that issue was an eruption starter...

To find the truth about their relationship effect...

It’s real right like what esm told them or not...

And someone need to unfolded them is true or not?

Ok back to 2015-2016 again....

All of us who are kdist may knew that because someone tried to unfolded them...

So the dating issue should coming up to cover that hole...

But in other way... Some of fx fc said at last esm chose crystal, not yo*na because crystal already had some rumors about her relationship with amber or some china rich man at the same time...

Do you feel familiar?

One of famous girl and boy idols have bad bad rumors at the same time...

Along with you start to see a bit hint about those girl and boy idols have secret relationship to each other at the same time...

I think at first no one notice about this coincidence...

But if it comes again with same movement...

Are you feeling you wondering?

Why it happened like god need to match them together...?

kstal and jk have a pretty same pattern from the start... But difference in a bit of details and time ending....

So I'm not surprised if they are aware of it and start not trusting esm.

They just accept that deal but not mean they absolutely surrender...

Some of my feelings about esm vs ekso since late of 2016 until now...

It’s feel like if you deceive me, I will deceive you back.

I touched a bit betrayal from them in sometime...

Then...

I think jd issue is ji’s last chain....

How esm lets jd announced about his wedding like a regret surprise made him knew maybe the things they told him not 100% truth...

The thing esm say because of it, so we just let you do it for save your life maybe it was only saved esm life. 

Even esm knew jd may too risked if he confessed that thing...

But esm lets jd do without any protect except gave more works to him like a reward...

And lets kr fan fight with ifan. No care ekso will 9 or not...

Because they no care at the started if we notice how lay can’t comeback with ekso anymore by cn gov and then by his schedule... But jackson g7 can come back with g7 all of times.... And lay at last came to kr to send soo enter the military....

So maybe what esm say to them is just only a scam...

Even someone unfolded them... Maybe it may nothing...

Do you remembered some reporter came out to say jk may fake?

I think it’s a good example to show him to know that if he leak something about their relationship...

Maybe it’s not too bad like esm say...

Then maybe jd issue let him to leak it....

That’s why I used to say that I felt like ji want to revenge and strike esm back with that updated.

Then why he waited until this time?

I think he always tries to find the time & way to leak it with good result.  And some of his ig leakage before that ig undated are good examples about this...

And why he chose this time...

I think because it’s a good time to leak it if we think of his situation now in the name of sperm member under cpt & esm’s arm....

+ gucci, fenti ambassador....

+ one of vogue’s adore children...

I think esm can’t do anything to hurt him for save their deal at least with those partners...

Then a one thing that maybe true...

Anon said : 

And as always, they are employees or former employees who sell information about idols. Only gay couples do not leak because magazines cannot publish because it is prohibited.

So....

If it’s true I think I no wonder if he wait until this time... It’s good chance to leak with take a bit effect or none of it...

+ How we sure ppl get attention, get notice or trust in our analysis about that ig updated? If you not interest in bxb life in girl’s vision...

+ I think ppl not care about what he say then and now. They focused only wow~ soo with ji...

I think most of ppl maybe not remembered what he say on that birthday ig live....

Then if they remembered.. So...?

Like we see kstal & jk was confirmed and ended with they were real and they are faked depend on each ppl vision...

So maybe he leaked it now because he a bit sure that maybe it may not hurt him much and no need to keep it in secret again if esm can unfolded their artist by themselves like what they did with jd issue...

And maybe this is a last test for make him sure before go to the next step...

Who knows....

But these are only my dumb brain cell’s overload....

So hope you enjoy reading... XD

And sorry if it wasted your time...

Tbh I need to talk with more clear...

But I don’t know how to explain some idea from th to eng.

Sorry....

[ghostofviperwrites]

Nameless

Requested by @laziestgirlintheworld

Pairing:  Matt Riddle/FC

Category:   Smut

Warnings: Language and smut

4.            “I don’t know your fucking name, so what, let’s fuck” A.D.I.D.A.S.  – Korn

Matt Riddle was looking for one thing tonight and one thing only.  To get fucked.  He just wanted some simple, no strings attached, sex.   No mess, no fuss.  It had been a long hard weekend and he needed to blow of some steam.   He wanted to go somewhere that nobody knew who he was or knew his name and find someone as desperate to fuck as he was.   No entanglements, no promises, just straight up fucking.  And he was pretty sure he had just found the perfect place.  

A smirk formed as Matt brushed his long blonde hair back from his face and looked at the obsolete little club he had just arrived in front of.  Matt had been walking aimlessly for blocks, hoping he would stumble across a place just like this.   The type of people who would come to this club were just the type he was looking for.  

I don’t know you’re fucking name

So what let’s

Screwing may be the only way

That I can truly be free

Ordering a beer from the bar Matt leaned lazily against it as he surveyed the crowd.   It was just the way he liked it, big enough for a decent selection, but not so huge that it was going to be an annoyance.   Looking through the crowd as he drank Matt catalogued a few potential prospects as he went along before his gaze landed on her.  Thoughts of any others were quickly discarded.  She was the one.   And she was looking right at him, so that was going to make things easy.  

With a smile Matt jerked his head in the direction of the back hallway leaving his bottle on the bar as she gave a slight nod and headed in that direction.   Matt made his way through the writhing bodies, never losing site of his target as she stepped out of the strobe lighting and into the dark abyss.   As soon as he stepped into the hallway his hand was in her grasp and she was pulling him along towards a dark corner at the end of the hallway.  

She hopped up on the packing crate against the wall and stared challengingly at him.   Matt attacked with vigor, his hands grabbing handfuls of her long hair in his fists and pulling her roughly to his mouth, teeth gnashing and tongues fighting as the passion grew between them.   Matt’s hands moved to her breasts, squeezing them tightly through the flimsy material of her dress and with a rough tug down on the hem her breasts were bared to the night air.  Matt pushed her legs apart hand moving under her skirt and finding her panties.  He smiled mockingly at her as his fingers easily slipped into her pussy, pressing deep inside her as her eyelids fluttered in pleasure.  Leaning down Matt captured her peaked nipple between his lips sucking it inside his mouth and flicking his tongue over the taut skin ass her hands moved to pull on his hair, urging him on.   His fingers pumped into her pussy while his free hand tugged and pulled at the nipple on her other breast and his teeth grazed the nipple in his mouth.   Her head shook back and forth at the overwhelming sensations coming from all parts of her body, sighing in disappointment and relief when he disconnected from her.  She smiled a filthy grin at him as he stood back, looking her over.  Hair tangled, tits out and legs spread, she looked like a dream.  

Matt unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, stroking it hard as her eyes hungrily watched him.   He stepped forward and she eagerly spread her legs far apart, opening her to his few as her skirt crept up her hips.

I don’t know your fucking name, so what let’s fuck

All day I dream about sex

All day I dream about fuckin’  

Matt slammed his cock inside her tight hole, groaning in satisfaction as she clenched around him.   He began pounding inside her, maneuvering her legs up over his shoulders as she lay back on the crate, her hands moving to play with her nipples as he rammed home.   Matt timed his thrusts with the beating music in the background, watching intently as her face screwed up in pleasure as he bottomed up with every stroke.  

His hands dug into her hips as his climax approached and by the way she was clenching around him she wasn’t far behind.  With a loud grunt Matt began thrusting at a brutal pace, his hands moving to grab her thighs as he rammed away, her fingers moving to bury themselves in her slick folds, rubbing furiously against her clit as she started to come, screaming as Matt bottomed out his hot seed spilling into her as she mumbled incoherently.  

“Thanks babe,” He said with a smirk tucking himself back into his pants and slinking back out into the blinding strobe lights.  Mission accomplished he thought as he stepped out of the club and into the brisk night air.  Now he wanted to get back to his hotel and collapse in his bed.  Lust slated all he wanted now was a long night’s sleep.

[tcnosfm-blog]

.･:*:･ﾟ ’ valentino  espsito , a  twenty  three  year   old , cismale ,  works  as  a  musician  who  came  from  manhattan  roots  .  while  they  were  attending  st  jude’s  they  were  known  as  the  broken  bird  because  they  could  be  very  reticent  .  those  closest  to  them  say  they’re  quite  stoic  though  .  to  get  a  better  understanding  of  who  they  are  ,  some  things  you  may  notice  about  them  are  ferocious  memories  dancing  across  his  flesh  before  sinking  their  teeth  into  him  ,  the  feeling  of  pain  reminding  him  of  his  own  presence  in  the  world  ,  night  sweats  that  form  a pool  of  anger  and  an  ocean  of  sadness .  you  may  have  mistaken  them  for  justin  bieber .

hi   hello  peaches  !!    this  ?  is  a  fucking  train  wreck  i  call  valentino  but  god  do  i  fucking  love  him  ?  he’s  the  combination  of  two  muses  of  mine  and  well  i’m  really  excited  to  explore  him  !  all  while  going  back  to  my  jb  roots  (  can  you  believe  there  was  a  time  where  the  only  male  fc  i  could  use  was  the  love  of  my  life  justin  bieber  ?   is  it  crack  ?  is  that  what  i  was  smoking  ?  ) if  you  would  like  to  learn  more  about  valentino  ,  please  just  keep  reading  !!  oh  please  bare  with  me  ,  me   and  introductions  are  not  friends .  

❝   ┄  𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓸𝓹𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱𝔂  !

chapters  of  a  childhood  that  reflected  two  halves  of  then  and  now  .  like  a  book  that  cannot  be  ripped  from  your  hands  ,  the  esposito’s   story  captured  hues  of  millions  .  expect  ,  instead   of  unfolding  on  pages  of  a  book  ,  their  lives  were  recorded  by  the  hands  of  the  media  /  smiling  (  or  hands  up  covering  irritated  expressions  )  on  the  front  pages  of  magazine  ,  elaborating  on  success  and  fortune  with  oprah winfrey  ,  beautiful   photoshoots  that  are  plastered  with  such  brands  as  vogue  and  elle  magazine  .  adored  .  you  could  consider  them  that  .   they  were  affluence  dipped  in  sovereignty .

alessandro  esposito  ,  fifteen  years  old  when  he  came  to  america  from  naples italy  .  for  two  weeks  ,  him  and  his  family  of  seven  slept  on  the  cold  streets  of  new  york  .  his  father  ,  a  business  man  that  went  bankrupt  decided  to  allow  his  legs  to  run  and  run  until  they  landed  him  to  america  in  search  of  a  second  chance  .  that  year  ,  had  been  a  year  of  struggle .  but  it  taught  alessandro  all  he  needed  to  know  ,  showed  him  everything  he  refused  to  be  .  

alessandro  ,  he  put  himself  through  college  .  got  a  job  the  minute  his  feet  touched  new  york  at  an  italian  owned  pizza  place  , and  ran  himself  through  the  ringer  with  school  .  he  wanted  to  study  business  .  be  the  man  his  father  never  was  .  he  was  determined  .

it  was  his  junior  year  where  he  meet  sienna   remis  ,   the  twenty  something  year  old  break  out  model  ..  who  in  reality  should  of  never  given  alessandro  the  time  or  day  ..  but  she  gave  him  more  then  that  ,  four  years  later  ,  she  gave  him  her  word  that  she  was  in  it  with  him  forever  .  

she  did  not  want  children  .  she  was  a  model  .  used  her  body  for  her  work  ,  worked  for  her  body  .  struggled  with  herself  to  remain  the  model  of  every  company’s  dream  .  and  then  , she  accidentally  got  pregnant  .  and  despite  having  no  intentions  of  keeping  it  ,  one  look  at   her  husbands  face  and  she  made  a  decision  that  would  cost  her  .  she  had  it  .  

and  then  ,  she  had   another  one  .  and  then  another  one  ..  and  then  ,  another  one  .

the  esposito’s  were  a  traditional  italian  family  ,  spent  almost  every  moment  with  one  another  .  celebrated  holidays  at  nonna  &  nonno’s  .  did  family  vacations  with  their  four  aunts  /  uncles  and  their  seventeen  cousins  .  the  esposito’s  as  a  whole  ,   were  successful  .  alessandro’s  oldest  brother  being  a  plastic  surgeon  for  celebrities  such  as  kim  kardashian  and  kylie  jenner . his  sister  ,  she  dabbled  in  the  world  of  acting  before  settling  into  fashion  design  .  his  youngest  brother  worked  along  his  side  ,  building  an  empire  of  hotels  and  restaurants   .  and  ,  his  youngest  sister  whom  had  the  ability  to  capture  a  thousand  words  in  single  painting  moved  back  to  italy  to  live  a  normal  life  .  

zynaty ,  the  empire  that  holds  hundreds  of  hotels  and  restaurants  across  the  globe  .  the  business  that  took  alessandro  and  his  brother  everything  they  had  to  create .

valentino  navarone  clemente  esposito  was  the  second  child  to  alessandro   and  sienna  .   from  the  moment   he  open  warm  colored  hues  ,  took  his  first  breaths  ,  privilege  was  granted  to  him  .   a  child  in  the  spotlight  ,  it  was  what  he  became  .  one  of  the    esposito’s  destined  to  do  great  things  .  to  be  somebody  .  the  media  ate  him  up .  everything  he  did  ,  everything  his  siblings  did  ,  they  wanted  to  be  apart  of  it  ,  to  exploit  ,  to  adore  ,  to  wait  and  watch  how  they  would  unfold  .

the  first  eleven  years  of  valentino’s  childhood  consisted  of  tender  forehead  kisses  and  the  feeling  of  warm  comfort  wrapping  around  him  like  a  blanket  .  his  days  consisting  of  laughter  that  fell  from  his  siblings  lips  ,  sports  that  shook  all  of  his  energy  right  out  of  him  .  homemade  dinners  ,  forced  movie  nights  (  though  deep  down  he  always  enjoyed  snuggling  up  to  his  mother  ) ,  tutors  ,  piano  lessons  ,  and  guitar  lessons  .  by  the  time  he  was  eight  ,  he  was  fluent  in  italian  .  played  on  three  different  hockey  teams  .  bickered  with  his  oldest  brother  like  it  was  his  job  (  but  more  so  because  he  wanted  to  do  everything  he  did  and  did  not  like  being  told  no  .  )  spent  hours  in  his  fathers  office  gazing  out  the  windows  ,  eating  greasy  burgers  with  his  father  in  exchange  that  neither  of  them  would  snitch  to  the  others  .  summers  with  his   grandparents  in  italy  .  at  the  age  of  ten  he  was  staring  in  commercials  such  as  toy’s  r  us  and  even  chef  boyardee .  

the  esposito’s  were  being  offered  reality  tv  show’s  ,  the  spot  of  ambassador’s  for  ridiculously   prosperous  brands  .  everything  they  did  ,  it  was  an  article  .   sienna  takes  her  children  out  to  the  park  ,  alessandro  walks  the  family  dog  ,  valentino  scored  final  goal  .  and  then  ,  it  happened  .  headlines  of  ,  valentino  esposito  admitted  to  hospital  due  to  injuries  from  his  mother  .

sienna  ,  she  was  tender  .  angelic.  had  a   smile  that  melted  hearts  .  her  laughter  felt  like  music  to  your  ears  ..  everyone  described  her  as  gentle  ,  a  beautiful  soul .  but  after  her  last  child  ,  she fell  into  such  dark  places  .  so  dark  that  drinking  her  way  out  of  them  seemed  to  be  the  only  way  to  survive  .  to  get  through  it  … but  the  drinking  always  made  her  violent  .  usually  ,  it  was  never  anything  more  then  her  screaming  horrid  words  to  her  children .  usually  she  saved  physical  contact  for  alessandro  .  the  next  morning  ,  she’d  beg  for  forgiveness  .  buy  the   gifts  and  allow  them  to  stay  home  from  school  .  she’d  swear  she’d  never  do  it  again  ,  and  for  weeks  she  wouldnt  .  and  then  ,  like  a  switch   she  would  .

nine  pm  ,  alessandro  headed  to  las  vegas  for  a  business  trip  (  one  that  included  his  mistress  ) ,  his  mom  she  found  the  liquor  cabinet  .   one  drink  turned  to three and  three  turned  to  the  whole  bottle  vanishing  . valentino  remembers  , her  screams  and  his  little  brother  crying  .  he  was  always  protective  ,  and  when  his  oldest  brother  was  not  around  he  always  felt  like  it  was  even  more  of  his  duty  to  watch  out  for  his .  so  that’s  what  he  did  .  his  feet  leading him  down  to  the  kitchen  ..  and  when  his  hues  reached  hers  ,  the  once  angelic  mother  he  knew  ,  he  loved  disappeared  .  she  was  a  monster  in  human  form   .   and  her  hands  had  reached  for  his  brother  and  non  stop  shook  him  as  she  repeated  ,  screamed  how  much  she  never  wanted  them  .  that  she  never  wanted  them  .

valentino  remembers  this  much  ,  fear .  confusion .  the  need  to  free  his  little  brother  .  and  then  he  remembers  covering  his  face  ,  pleading  for  her  to  stop  ,  and  pain .

it  was  his  brother  who  called  the  cops  ,  and  when  he  got  to  the  hospital  he  had  broken  ribs  ,  bruises  that  covered  his  faces  like  it  skin  tone  was  purple  ,  and   a  concussion .

the  months  after  that  ,  consisted  of  legal  actions  .  divorces  .  therapy  .  and  attempting  to  heal  .  something  that  was  deemed  impossible  with  the  media  constantly  throwing  it  back  into  their  faces . pleading  for  their  statements  ,  wanting  to  dig  deeper  .  paparazzi  harassing  not  only  his  family  ,  but  friends  of  his  family  ,  co  workers  ,  teachers  ,  nannies  .  it  got  so  bad  ,  alessandro  took  him  and  his  children  back  to  italy  for  an  entire  year  .  wanting  to  give  them  enough  time  to  adjust  ,  to  heal  ,  all  while  trying  to  heal  on  his  own  .  

❝   ┄  𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂 𝓯𝓽. 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼  !

hard  headed  and  words  like  knives  ,  a  burning  fire  lives  within  the  boy  .  one  that  holds  onto  pain  and  anger  ,  their  claws  slashing  violently  into  his  heart  .  after  the  accident  ,  he  was  told  he  had  sad  eyes  .  and  for  a  while  ,  it  was  because  it  was  true  .  sadness  had  intertwined  themselves  within  him  ,  and  when  he  finally  got  tired  of  the  hole  in  his  heart  that  dropped  to  their  needs  pleading  with  anyone  to  help  it  ,  he  pushed  the  sadness   out  and  let  anger  stand  in  it’s  place  .

there’s  sanity  in  the  constancy  his  fist  always  presented  him  ,  in  italy  he  found  himself  in  fights  after  fights  .  twelves  year  old  ,  fighting  his  demons  and  fighting  anyone  who  wronged  him  even  in  the  smallest  of  senses  .  

he’s  like  picking  up  dice  and  praying  you  land  on  a  good  number  ,  you  never  know  what  you’ll  get  ..  will  you  see  the  specks  of  playfulness  and  charm  ?  his  anger  that burns  brighter  then  any  fire ?  the  silent  sadness ?

his  ambition  is  gold  .  he  wants  to  be  something  in  this  world  .  and  his  passion  and  intelligent  helps  keep  him  on  this  path .

being  an  athlete  has  always  come  natural  to  him  ,  he  was  that  kid  who  was  good  at  literally  everything  he  did  ..  and  while  he  doesnt  play  hockey  anymore  ,  or  as  much  as  he  use  to  ,  he  still  gets  himself  up  at  five  am  to  run  .

his  family  is  a  priority  .  the  only  people  who  get  all  of  him  ,  his  sadness  ,  his  softness  ,  his  broken  pieces  ,  his  protectiveness  ,  his  loyalty  ,  his  undying  love .

despite  what  you  may  think  ,  he  has  a  big  heart  .  it  sneaks  to  the  surface  with  small  acts  of  kindness  ..  the  way  his  hand  will  reach  out  to  you  with  intentions  of  affection  before  retreating  .  it’s  in  his  words  of  , ‘ did  you  eat  ? ‘  and  ,  ‘ let  me  walk  ya  home ‘

he  is  a  lover  ,  no  matter  how  hard  he  tries  to  convince  you  his  heart  is  cold  that  will  never  be  the  case  .  ever  .

he’s  a  curious  person ,  and  usually  ends  up  getting  suck  into  people  and  things  despite  his  promises  that  he  wont  .

he  hates  commitment  and  attachment  .. but  can  you  blame  him.

has  this  fear  that  everyone  he  loves  will  somehow  someway  hurt  him .

has  a  bad  habit  of  hurting  those  who  hurt  him .

he’s  unpredictable  ,  stubborn   ,   a  little  sarcastic .

he  can  be  cruel  ,  unemotionally  unavailable  .  it’s  always  easier  to  feel  nothing  then  feel .  (  has  a  constant  fight  with  himself  on  whether  he  should  let  you  in  ,  but  he  will  if  you  are  determined  enough  ..  as  much  as  he  can  )

he’s  super  intelligent  ,  quick  with  numbers  .  his  dad  use  to  tell  him  he   was  going  to  be  a  king ,  at  least  in  the  business  industry  ..  

loves  children  ..  definitely  cannot  wait  to  have  children  of  his  own  some day .

he  still  spends  a  lot  of  his  time  in  italy  ,  usually  with  his  grandparents  or  his  aunt .  he  likes  it  there  ,  likes  being  able  to  breathe  ,  to  walk  down  the  street  without  harassment  .

he  wanted  to  go  into  his  dad’s  business  ,  his  dad  wanted  him  to  come  into  the  business .  but  ,  he  instead  found  his  passion  in  music ?  it  was  not  surprising ,  the  baby  has  always  been talented  ..  it  just  took  him  a  little  longer  to  realize  that  it  was  what  he  wanted  to  do .

has  a  journal  he  carries  with  him  almost  every  where  ,  he  remembers  in  the  seventh  grade  someone  teased  him  about  it  being  a  diary  .  he  also   got  suspended  that  day  . it’s  his  song  book  ,  the  only  way  to  really  know  him .

he  learned  fast  that   ,  he  never  wanted  to  inflict  harm  onto  anyone  else  like  his  mom  did  ..  and  at  twenty  four  is  not  a  violent  guy  .  he  acts  out  of  self  defense  but  will  never  put  his  hands  on  you  first  .

on  that  note  ,  do  not  put  your  hands  on  him  .  he  does  not  like  to  be  handled  ,  slapped  , shoved  .  he  does  not  like  being  grabbed  ,  dont  even  poke  him  aggressively  .  

he  flinches  ,  if  you  move  too  fast  near  him  . if  you  move  your  hands  when  yelling  at  him .

he  had  night  terrors  for  years  .  therapy  helped  him  with  it  ..  but  sometimes  they  make  a  recurrence  .  more  so  if  he’s  really  stressed  or  anxious .

is  such  a  boy  when it  comes  to  cars  .  love  speeding  ,  showing  off  ,  making  you  hold  on  for  your  dear  life .

he  does  not  like  drunk  people  ,  is  not  the  guy  that  will  normally  take  care  of  you  unless  you’re  his  siblings  ,  or  a  very  close  friends  .  does  not  really  drink  himself  .  has   a  drink  here  and  there  ,  but  has  never  gotten  drunk  … he  could  truly  go  the  rest  of   his  life  without  ever  drinking  again .

he  is  a  smoker  ,  smokes  a  blunt  every  night  before  bed  .

he   is  signed  with  a  record  label  ,  and  has  released  two  albums  !  also  he  went  on  two  tours !  music  is  something  he  truly  enjoys  .  it  makes  him  feel  all  light  and  happy ?  like  he’s  his  old  self  again .  voice  wise  ,  think  justin  bieber   but  singing  post  malone  songs  ..

he’s  doing  a  little  soul  searching  ,  soaking  up  life  ..   as  much  as  he  can  .  trying  to  remind  himself  of  all  the  reasons  it  feels  soo  good  to  be  here  ,  right  now  ,  living  and  breathing.

❝   ┄  𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼  !

asdfg okay  ,  i  wanted  to  write  out  super  long  and  detailed  connections  but  im  already  annoyed  with  myself  and  cannot  even  imagine  how  yous  will  feel  having  to  read  this  mess !  so  i  want  a  bromance  ,  something  cute  and  simple  .  they’re  there  for  him  non  stop  ,  he  considers  them  family  ,  would  do  anything  for  them  ,  they  bring  out  old  valentino  who  just  wants  to  have  fun  and  act  like  a  fool !  a  childhood  friend  ,  someone  who  knows  everything  about  the  accident  he  doesn’t  speak  to  anymore  to  avoid  the  memories .  some  party  friends  and  bad  influences  .  hookups  !!!  a  sibling  like  friendship  ,  someone  who  reminds  him  of  his  younger  brother  or  sister  .  an  messy  ex  of  some  sort  .  one  sided  relationships !!  one  sided  friendships  !!  that  one  person  who’s  soooo  determined  to  break  down  his  walls .

[robot-unicorn-attack]

☽ WIDOWMAKER, 26

"God may forgive you, but I never can." (attributed to Queen Elizabeth I)

Real Name: Eleni Landry

Agency: ʟᴀᴢᴇʀ

FC: Binx Walton

Unicorn Name: Voidmaker

Place of Birth: Ser'hld IX, a mining asteroid under Lava World's jurisdiction, before the gravitational pull from the black hole tore it apart.

Appearance: Tall, severe, with her curls cut short. Elbows like bolts. Legs jittery, like she's half-ready to start running. Burning eyes. Two piercings in her right ear and one through her left eyebrow. Never laughs. Sometimes smiles.

Wardrobe: Black leather jacket, black turtleneck shirt, loose black trousers, oxfords and boots. The occasional black button-up. No heels. No makeup unless she has to. When she goes onto interviews, she tells them to put as much stage makeup onto her face as they would for a man's. She wears gray durasteel piercings, made from the scraps of the first pieces she ever stole for Voidmaker. There's always a watch on her wrist; it doesn't work. It's stopped at 1318 Standard hours, fifteen years ago.

Places most likely to be found: The edges of meeting rooms, the corners of bars and restaurants. The engineering department of her agency, tinkering with Void. 

People mostly likely to be with: Flame, who's nice enough and talks enough for two. Her agents--probation officers, more like. Other Lava Worlders, some of whom come up to her with fervent hands and eager words.

Strongest character trait: Her resentment

Public Image: They first tried to brand her a rebel, but she refused to give up that part of herself and her past to the greedy masses. It made her furious in a way that few things did, the thought of selling her anger and her history. They then tried to brand her as the femme fatale, but she refused to don their dresses and their sickly-slick lipstick. They felt wrong on her skin. The agency gave up then. She became the mysterious one, quiet and severe and short-spoken, and strangely enough, the people liked that. The agency built on that, and soon a new biography was built for her: the child of a secret agent, high up in the Estrellan Federation's political echelons, cool and suave and likely trained to kill. 

Racing Strengths: She knows her Void like the back of her hand and can handle her with a mastery unseen even by the Snow Queen herself. The pair of them are quick and agile and nimble.

Racing Weaknesses: In the early days, her agent would scream at her after her races--you need to give a shit about the race, Landry! we kept you from Estrellan jail because we thought you had it in you to give a damn, we can't keep you here if you keep racing like that--so she learned to try. Or to see least act like she was trying, because the fact remains that Eleni doesn't give a shit about winning the races. It's just bread and circuses to her, keeping people too happy and entertained to recognize their crumbling cosmos.

Personality: Quiet, taciturn, but eloquent and measured when she finally speaks. Uncomfortable in the spotlight, for all that she commands it well. Holds grudges like it's a competition; falls quickly into righteous fury. She doesn't have a lot of friends, but she will go through hell for the ones she does.

Biography: She remembers the day when the world ended. She was just old enough to understand that earthquake drills were not just a game they played at school. The alarm sounded inside their little house, louder and more insistent than it ever has, and her father pulled her out the door and started running. It's happening, he said, and she grew horribly afraid, because she had never seen him cry before. It's happening, Ellie, you need to run, they have shuttles for the children, you need to get out--

They were separated by the crowd. She followed his directions and ran. The last thing she heard was him shouting her name, before an official in uniform pushed her into a rescue shuttle and the doors close behind her, and they took off.

They were the last ship to make it off the moon.

Her mother was an overseer in the mines. She would have been among the first to die, as the gravitational pull of the void pulled apart the fissures in the moon's surface made by mining shafts and yanked all of the people there into deep space, scattering them into the airless black. The same would have happened to the people on the surface not long afterwards. The gravity swell that had destroyed Ser'hld IX made the shuttle groan and rattle. Eleni had just gotten a watch for her eleventh birthday, and the spacetime distortion from the black hole's swell broke it. 

1318, on the second. That was when her world ended. 

The children rescued from the destroyed moon were declared wards of Estrella. Eleni attended boarding school in the central Lava province until she couldn't stand it anymore. The Federation had the capacity to travel faster than light, to build floating cities and terraform entire planets, to build horses of light and arenas of fire and ice for the pleasure of their rich benefactors. They had already conquered space and gravity and time--so why did they leave her moon to die? They could please the powerful all they wanted and put up a show of mourning for the dead--but that didn't change the fact that they left her family to die, her city, her people, the people who mined the metal and ore used to build Estrella's gleaming wonders.

The Federation left Ser'hld to die. The moon should have been evacuated three decades ago, before she was even born, but the mines were too lucrative. 

She snuck onto a cargo ship when she was 14 and flew back to the backwater provinces where she knew she belonged, where the ground rumbled beneath her feet with every fluctuation from the black hole. She found other mining refugees there, who like her no longer had homes because of Estrella's neglect. They stole and bartered for a living; she learned how to hack security systems and plan raids on government facilities for oxygen dispersers and power cells and other necessities the Federation hoarded for itself. They talked about other things, bigger things--like separating the planet from the Federation and making Estrella pay. She learned she was damn good at fixing systems which were broken and even better at breaking systems when they needed to be broken.

She was 15 when she snuck into a facility and saw engineers developing robotic horses for some--racing game. They needed the metal to fix air purifiers in the area; mining smog corroded the filters like nothing else. That night, she and a couple others went back to scavenge sheet metal from the discarded prototypes, and she saw that there was one horse still running its program, LED eyes blinking in the dark, its body dark as a void.

Eleni took it with her when they left, and it trotted silently behind her like it had been trained.

It made her something of a legend in her new home, a girl with sunken eyes and a horse as dark as night, who stole from the powerful and would help you for a small price. Her horse--Void, she called it, dark as space--came with her team on raids, stepping silently behind her and carrying their loot. She had to steal from more and more well-guarded facilities to keep Void working, and one day, when she was 21, she got caught by a guard with LAZER on his uniform.

He gave her a choice--prison in central Estrella, or to race with Void for them.

She came back to her home--the backwater province where she stole and bartered for all of her growing years--a full year after she vanished, and she raced the course with her heart pounding, and she won. And she heard the roaring of the miners and shippers and cargo guides crash over her like a wave, because one of their own had won against a top-rated Ice Worlder. One of their own had won. The girl with sunken eyes and a night-black horse was back.

She doesn't want to race for Estrella. Lazer can go to hell, for all she cares. But every revolution needs its symbol, and Eleni might have just become her own.

Relationships:

Snow

Sky

Ice

Supernova

Sunbeam

Flower

Flame

Nyx

Playlist:

"Revolution" by The Score

"Vesuvius" by Sufjan Stevens

"The Angry River" by S. I. Itswa

"Running Up That Hill" by Meg Myers (Kate Bush cover)

"Conquest of Spaces" by Woodkid

Pinterest: N/A

Headcanons: N/A

Agency Bio: https://robot-unicorn-attack.tumblr.com/database-widowmaker

[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Joss! You’ve been accepted to play Julius Heller. Your request to change his FC to Chris Evans, and his school to West Point, has also been approved. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: Hi, I’m obsessed with the detail in this application! I love how much thought you put in to his motivations and his history with Karina. I can’t wait to see Julius on the dash! - Admin M

IC INFORMATION —

CHARACTER DESIRED

Julius Heller

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

Julius was pretty much force-fed the need to sacrifice for God and country from the age of 3. His father intended his son to follow in his footsteps, maybe be a full-bird colonel or even a general. Julius was smart and adaptable, he had to be with how he grew up, and he didn’t have close ties to any one place in particular. Add on a father whose love and respect was based solely on how willing Julius was to say how hi when his father said jump and you have the perfect candidate for the clandestine services. People from happy functional families don’t tend to become spies.

Working for the CIA wasn’t quite what he imagined, but it was thrilling nonetheless. His focus was Russia and working dealing with bot farms and counterespionage. He ended up dealing with the Russian Mafia’s encroachment on the US and developing connections in the mob in Moscow and St. Petersberg. After the Ukrainian revolution, he was sent to the Crimea to gather intel about Russian separatists and the Ukrainian forces trying to fight back against them. He ended up deep undercover, dating the daughter of a Russian-backed politician suspected of funding anti-Chechen terrorist activities.

Karina. Oh Karina. She wasn’t the first love of Julius’s life, but she was the one who got to him when he was vulnerable and in need of someone to hang onto. She was trouble, the kind of trouble he should’ve known to avoid, with a drug problem and an attitude that she could get away with anything because of who she was. But she got him in important doors, and lying next to her in bed at night made him feel like someone might love him at least a little for who he really was, even if he wasn’t sure who that was anymore.

Karina got into a new kind of trouble: playing at the games her father was involved in. She didn’t seem to understand why Julius would object, when he was the one neck-deep in it too, and it resulted in a fight that only ended when she called him to tell him she was pregnant. She also revealed that she’d been using his name to engage in all kinds of bad behaviour and had gotten him so deep in shit that even he couldn’t get out. He was going to get pulled by his handler and be sent back stateside. She told him if he left her, she’d reveal everything he’d been up to and make trouble for him with the Russian Mafia, blowing up his whole mission. She knew just enough that if she told the wrong people, he’d get outed and burned and probably end up dead.

While he was trying to find a way to bring her home with him, still convinced that they could have a family and be together, despite all the evidence to the contrary, Karina disappeared. At first, Julius assumed she was doing it on purpose to force him to acquiesce to her demands. Then, he was simply frantic, using contacts he only had for life or death situations to try and find her. She was found by Ukrainian police in an alley, dead of an overdose. The media called it a tragic accident and hinted that it might be a suicide, while her father accused first the Ukrainians and then his own Russian contacts of having her killed. Only Julius knew that the Chechens had been tipped off about her involvement in her father’s business there. And that sent him down the rabbit hole of not knowing whether or not his own organization was to blame; whether they’d weighed the likelihood of his own death or hers and come up with an equation that he couldn’t be a part of.

There is Julius pre-Karina and Julius post-Karina, and it’s the defining moment where he went against God and country and had to discover who he actually was as a person. He’s still figuring that out. What is the difference, after all, between someone who commits crimes for personal gain and someone who does it for the flag? Is he any better than a criminal himself? Half his co-workers retired and became arms dealers or corporate security chiefs who engage in morally grey activities in foreign countries where no one is watching. Who is he if he’s not the good guy? He’d always believed that a good guy doing a bad thing for the right reasons was better than a bad guy doing the same thing for the wrong reasons. Now he’s not so sure there’s even such a thing as good guys and bad guys at all.

His involvement with the Sinclairs has left him feeling even more confused. If he’s keeping someone safe, but he’s doing so for criminals, is he better than he was when he was getting people killed for the government? His moral quandaries are something he tries not to dwell on, the kind of man who acts and doesn’t worry about second-guessing because it will get you killed, but years of turning off his moral compass has made it impossible to shut it off anymore.

What’s worse is there are people in the Sinclairs that he likes, that he cares about, who matter to him. Not getting attached was supposed to be part of his job, but having done it once with Karina, it’s become a habit he doesn’t know how to quit.

All of this would suggest a brooding, angsty man who weeps into his whiskey quietly in his apartment while it rains, only of course he’s too manly to actually weep. But Jules is the opposite of that. He’s had to become pathologically well-liked as part of his CIA training, and it’s carried forward into his new line of work. He can sit down at a table and make friends with whoever happens to be there, so that by the end of the evening, he knows the name of everyone’s spouse, children, mistress, and favourite sports team. Jules can get secrets out of people and they don’t even realize he was the one who asked in the first place.

He doesn’t let a lot of people in, and even when he found Paityn and protected her, almost on a whim, he still struggled to let himself care for her. She reminded him of Karina, trouble that needed him and fulfilled that part of him that wanted to be the knight in shining armour when he’d spent his life hiding in the shadows. But she and her mother have wormed their way into his life, so that he now even has weekly coffees with Penny to discuss her family and frets over Paityn if she doesn’t check in even on his days off. He’s dangerously close to considering at least part of the Sinclairs as something almost like family, which he hasn’t had since he joined the service, and it would frighten him if he let himself think about it.

WRITING SAMPLE

Once upon a time, Julian Helmann had thought he knew what right and wrong were. Now he knew he had no idea. After years of wearing a variety of masks and using so many different names that he sometimes forgot which one was real, he was back in the country that he’d loved but never really known. He had a new identity, which had cost him his retirement fund. His former handlers at Langley had agreed to quietly retire him provided he accepted that Julian Helmann was burned in the intelligence community, never able to work for any government, disavowed by the service and made known to every agency willing to listen. He’d signed along the dotted line and hadn’t told them all to eat shit, because he was too tired to care. It was over, that was the important thing.

So he was now Julius Heller, and that was who he would be for the rest of his life. Or until something new happened that required him to leave this one behind. He’d learned not to rely on anything remaining the same. Being adaptable was what kept you alive.

He’d picked Chicago because it was unfamiliar to him. He’d never lived there with his family growing up, there were no military bases near enough to bother him, and it seemed like a city that didn’t require you to have a past. No one needed to know his life story, they simply knew that he was here now.

Case in point, he’d been coming to the Sinclair bar for a month and had made friends with three bartenders and five locals. None of them cared about what he’d done before arriving in Chicago, other than making sure he wasn’t a fan of the wrong sports team. He’d spent his life worrying about the motives of every stranger he came across, so it was refreshing to know that he was surrounded by people engaged in the kind of lifestyle that meant he already knew what their motives were, and that they didn’t care about him. Maybe he’d spent too much time in Russia. Maybe he couldn’t really get along with anyone but criminals anymore. When you’d spent fifteen years of your life learning how to do a thing, it was simply possible you couldn’t stop.

Of course he knew who they were. He’d chosen the bar for that very reason. What better place to blend in than a bar where everyone had rap sheets and a pressing desire not to answer questions? They weren’t even that bad, as gangs went. They didn’t kill your whole family as a lesson if you fucked up while you watched. Chicago had been run by the Irish and the Italians, who would probably hate to hear that that marked them as soft when it came to organized crime syndicates, but Jules had chosen it over places with a heavy Russian influence. Sure, the Russians were moving on Chicago, they moved on anywhere they could, but they didn’t have a stranglehold on the place yet. If they did, he supposed he would have to leave. He was used to that.

There’s a quiet after an explosion that most people don’t realize. The blast itself isn’t so much loud as it is an attack on the senses. You don’t even process it as sound because it blows out your eardrums. And then there’s just quiet, and a ringing that slowly grows louder and louder. You can feel it in your head, your teeth, your chest. You’re dripping blood from your ears, your nose, anywhere the shrapnel has hit, and the world feels a lot like if you’ve been pulled into the undertow, and you don’t know which way is up. It is one of the most disorienting sensations, and there’s no way to get used to it. Whether it’s your first explosion, or your 30th, you handle it the same way, which is badly.

Julius was outside the bar, which wasn’t hard, since there was now a much larger entrance than there had been, wondering if Vladimir had found out who he was and had sent a message about the thing in Vladivostok. A man pointed a gun at him and was probably screaming, Jules’s ears hadn’t adjusted yet. He’d be at least half-deaf for three days. Reading lips was never as accurate as people thought, but even in his current state, Jules could tell it was in English. And more, that the man didn’t have Soviet teeth, so he wasn’t Russian. Ukrainian, maybe?

“Ya ne rozmovlyayu anhliysʹkoyu.” I don’t speak English. Julius couldn’t even hear his own voice, didn’t know if he was shouting it or if it just felt that way. He kept his hands up, trying to wipe the blood off of his face on the inside of his elbow. The words, “fucking Sinclairs” was clear enough that Jules felt comfortable assuming this was not, in fact, a hit on him.

While debating whether or not to simply lie down on the ground and let things take their natural course, he saw a crumpled form with hair that caught the streetlight glow. It was a girl. She reminded him suddenly of Karina, the way they’d found her behind Yuzhnoe. He’d looked at the crime scene photos, still had them, couldn’t stop looking, as if something was going to finally tip him off and tell him for sure what had happened.

The yelling man with the gun had stopped pointing it at Julius, also having noticed the girl, and was walking towards her, firing and missing. The Costellos really needed to offer better firearms training. Julius shot the man in the head three times in quick succession, twice in the main body cavity as well just for good measure. Scooping up what turned out to be a handy little assault rifle that was definitely not street legal, Julius kicked the corpse several times just to be absolutely sure.

The girl was small, smaller than Karina had been, she weighed almost nothing as Julius rolled her over and checked for injuries. His hearing was fucked, so he kept having to look up, checking for cops or reinforcements. When he saw them coming, he was disappointed to realize it wasn’t the cops. Cops he could handle. This was going to be complicated.

Throwing her over a shoulder, he flicked the gun to semi-auto and sprayed a pattern directly at the oncoming car, causing it to spin out and hit the curb trying to avoid the bullets. That gave him time to unlock his car and toss the girl into the back seat. Button-lock cars were really a lifesaver.

The street ahead was suddenly blocked off by an SUV, and the car behind was moving to block him off as well. Fabulous. Turning, he noted that the girl was coming around. “Hey, I need you to get down and hide in the foot well, okay? Just … don’t move and don’t open the car for anyone. I’ll be back in a minute.” After a moment, he dug his phone out and tossed it to her. It was a burner anyway. “If I’m not back in five minutes, call 911 and then the first number in the contacts, tell them you need an extraction. Someone will come, okay?” Looking out the window, he judged he had maybe 30 seconds before they were about to have company. “Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise. You’re gonna be fine.”

Four minutes and 12 seconds later, he opened the driver’s side door, dripping blood from a graze across his bicep. It would sting but wouldn’t kill him. The SUV that had been blocking his path was now on fire and the one behind them had a small semi-circle of bodies around it. The girl was still there, looking dazed and so small. Her eyes seemed to take up most of her face. Karina’s face had been different. He reminded himself of that. Not the same. Different girl, different country, different him. “Let’s get you home, okay?”

[bloodline-rpg]

TRIPP LIONETTI  // 30 // WITCH

❝ Instead of rushing toward the skyline, I wish that I could just be brave. ❞

_______________________________________________________________________

BIOGRAPHY

Tripp was born Thomas Lionetti. The fourth Thomas Lionetti in his family, a family that owned a powerful business empire in Boston. He was the first son of the first of a first son. Their family took their work and their business seriously and Tripp was groomed to become the one day inheritor of the company in the same way his father had been. But tragedy struck when Tripp was only four. An explosion rocked their family’s warehouse, where he’d been playing with his mother, waiting for his father to finish a meeting. Tripp was left without his hearing but the family was left without his mother. Sandra Lionetti died a hero, shielding her son from the explosion but she could not have shielded her family from the way that grief could tear them apart. 

Tripp’s father, Thomas Lionetti the third fell so far down his hole of mourning that he could barely raise his son. He paid for all of the best tutors, doctors, and instructors that young Tripp could have. And Tripp learned to communicate using sign language, got involved with other deaf children like him, and began to re-adjust to the world around him, thriving as much as a young boy without a mother and barely a father could. 

He doesn’t know where it came from. Tripp credits it to the nights he spent wishing that he could communicate with his father, a man who barely took time out of the bottle and his sadness to speak, let alone learn ASL. But Tripp swears it was then that he began to simply  know what his father was thinking. That skill began to spread out, beyond just his father. Tripp was certain he knew the thoughts of his tutors and his father’s business partners. The pizza delivery man, a cab driver. The older he got, the stronger it became. 

So strong in fact, it began to unsettle him. Tripp searched high and low, sought out therapists and doctors, anyone to try and find an answer to the phenomenon he was experiencing. His father and the businessmen never wanted him around, out of fear that Tripp would learn their secrets. And he became more and more ostracized in his social circles. Giving up on the family business, Tripp went to college, attending art school and participating an activism and playing soccer. He’d tried to keep his schedule as packed as possible, anything that kept him busy and away from forming deep social connections. Every friendship or relationship he got close to made Tripp feel like an intruder, unable to keep his loved one’s thoughts out of his brain. 

When he was 25, Tripp was approached by a young man. Alistar Black explained to him what he thought was true, that Tripp’s mother was a fully blooded, Original Witch who had run away from her family years before she’d ever met Tripp’s father. She’d never spoken once of her roots in power, but she’d been a telepath. And he believed Tripp was one too. Tripp was startled at best and terrified at worse. He’d never heard word of his mother’s past, especially anything involving witch craft. However, for the first time, he began to feel less like an outsider, and more like someone who belonged somewhere. He began to embrace his deafness, no longer associating it with the psychic power that was ruining his life. Alistar promised to teach him control and the two became fast friends. 

From the jump, Tripp could tell that Alistar was a little slippery, not exactly trustwothy, but he was very used to his father’s business and slippery people. He’d never considered a person’s morals to be a vital part of their existence. The control over his power gave Tripp new social confidence. His art took off. He began to take to twitter and instagram as an activist and advocate for the deaf and hard of hearing community. Finally able to turn his power on and off he even started dating. But that all crashed around him when the witch hunts caught up. No one ever learned that he was witch, but he had no desire to take his chances when he was contacted by Alistar again. Alistar wanted all members of the Black Family Coven to come to his home, where his mother was inviting all witches. What Tripp doesn’t know, is that his skills as a telepath make him a vital piece in the political maneuvering of the black family. And his history in illegal business make him exactly the kind of smart confidant that Alistar needs to take power. But he credits Alistar with saving his life and intends to make good on his promise to repay him. 

______________________________________________PERSONALITY/TRAITS

Because of his recent popularity in the social world, people often mistake Tripp as warm, confident kid with a charming, wide smile and an eye for art. However, Tripp’s upbringing around high end crime and the loss of his parents at a young age make him much colder than people expect. His warm exterior is more of a front he put up to bounce through the world. But at his core, Tripp is  loyal only to the people close to him and even then, trusts very few. He’s become aware of the inner workings of the minds of far too many people to believe that everyone isn’t secretly worse than we can imagine. He doesn’t see a line between heroes and villains and doesn’t believe strongly in morality or perceived goodness. That said, Tripp is still only just figuring the world of witch craft out for himself. His opinions about the politics and nature of it are by no means fully formed. 

DETAILS

STATUS: OPEN

Related bios: Alistar Black

Species/Family info: Original Witch, Member of the Black Family Coven

Faceclaim: Nyle DiMarco

We will consider alternate FCs for this character. Alt FCs MUST be deaf or HoH.

[haila-wetyios]

Raiding

Since it became a pretty long post, Imma just throw this under a Read More. It’s not about current tumblr drama fashion. So no popcorn scene for you peeps. Just my experience as a whole and to finally let go of a few feelings that kept weighting on me for a good while until my current team took me in.

The first time I ever advertised on a PF that I was seeking a raid team, was during the final months of ARR. I was a complete scaredy cat, anxious of whether I'd be good enough to work on a team that required more coordination than pugs to get things such as extreme primals or savage raids done. Off I go as a SMN main, panicked as my raid leader of that team joined my party for a brief interview. Afterwards though, during our first joint team efforts for HW content (Ravanna and Bismark extreme at that time) I discovered that I wasn't as bad as I thought. On the contrary, I was too perceptive of everything to the point I would rush to do mechanics assigned to our newbie healer who after several explanations would still not do the thing. Despite my huge insecurities of probably not doing the relevant rotations down to the last skill, my ego started to rise a bit when parsers started to take more and more of conversations between static members. And although I would never ask about my numbers directly, I would celebrate in silence when reading the overall party dps the moment I realized mine had been at the top even with a ninja and a dragoon in the party. That should have been a flag to me now that I look back for being a caster that was doing more damage than the melee. But I didn't know any better, and stayed with my group regardless throughout the entirety of gordias savage. Every week would be the same pummeling against the horrifying Faust dps check, then the first turn's boss, then the second turn until we finally hit the wall of jigglyman and disbanded. I didn't have much complains, despite how tiring it was, I had long since given up on those clears and instead turned each night into 'training to see how long I can last the moment shit hits the fan in any given fight'. And boy did I get a ton of experience down that lane.

The next times I started looking into content once more, I could only play the part of a sub for any group of people I trusted due to life and time issues. But I still took pride in being that one stable sub that could support any group on any extreme primal through HW. I still lament that I was never able to go through Midas and Alexander savage when they were relevant and merely watched from the sidelines.

Then SB came up, and I merely stood aside once more for the first Tier with Exdeath. Except this time, the frustrations of not having been there while I watched all my friends start doing EX's and savage content had finally gotten to me. And lo' and behold, suddenly I was back on square 1, trembling in fear while waiting on my PF announcement that I was looking for a group for Sigma (Kefka times). Nearly died the moment I had two people with interesting names join in my party and just grab me on the spot. I had no idea what I was getting into, they mentioned they just needed a caster slot for the new rag tag group they had built, but at least I had a team! Then the first day of raid came up, and right off the bat I was terrified at the fact that our raid leader was missing, being replaced just for that moment with the FC leader instead. Turns out my entire group save for the ninja, were a raiding FC with multiple groups going in through the week. And what was the first comment of the night pray tell? Well "No one should be here with X ilvl gear." Who was it aimed at? Well, to the only potato that for the first time was slightly outdated in 2 pieces of gear for not being active before the patch dropped. That was the moment that marked my spiraling down a rabbit hole that I wish I could let go of easily but still has a tight grip on me to this day.

I felt like crap, I fought my best and did research on how to be a better caster. Other than the FC leader's comment, no one berated me or spoke about me on a negative light. But it still left a mark in which I kept trying to prove myself and be useful. Suddenly I would find myself cursing at my skills. Hating how no matter how hard I tried with everything, I would never be able to even pass the goddamned Stone, Sky and Sea for savage raids. But we were still getting things done. Two new savage turns down in a single week of release? That felt incredible and also bittersweet. Because any time that my party members celebrated their purples and golds in fflogs, I would be in a corner, self destructing with greys. I kept trying and trying, until my coping mechanism ended up being "I'm just a fill in. But if I'm just this, I'm damn going to do a job stable enough to have a place here." Then things started turning out easier to deal with. I had noticed the goofiness of a lot of the members despite the numbers that dictated their runs, I gave up on my grey numbers and focused on getting their asses up if someone made a mistake. To support the healers as much as possible with mana shift and such. I started putting my experience of keeping the party alive to more use while I slowly tried to recover the confidence I had lost when starting the tier. Granted, they didn't care for the group as much as I did. No amount of hanging out after raid times or helping was enough for the few in charge to announce when we were done raiding after months of being together. They just stopped one day until their FC leader asked me if I was aware of the 'disbanding'.

Then it was time to switch gears, for the first time I thought my work had bore fruit when I was recruited into the FC leader's group instead, and all was well.... Until it wasn't, we kept having to replace members left and right, specially healers and tanks. Progress was slow, sometimes we’d clear Chaos and Midgarsormr, and others it would be a mess depending on the random team comp we had for the week. Things should have been better by the time we made it to Omega, half the party had cleared with their mains after all. Except that it was the point where everything went south in the background.

We had gained a good White Mage, who would complain about random jibber jabber every now and then, but that was fine, no biggie. Then they brought in their former co-healer from their previous static, a Scholar, and all was supposed to be fine. But then something happened that slowly started to wear us all out. For some reason, we suddenly were struggling some more with Midgarsormr, and then Omega.... Boy, even if we had previously cleared, suddenly the three days with 3 hours of raid time each went on on that goddamned turn, and then the final 15 min would go for Omega Male and Female and the reason was hard to tell at first, we were doing the same old after all. It wasn’t until nearly a month of wiping that probably the group had started to realize what was wrong. Our Scholar wasn’t exactly pulling his full weight.

This is what caused probably something that I should have seen coming and that stuck with me for a long while until now that I found this draft I worked on when the wound became fresh again from just thinking about it. It’s just frustrating, sad to a degree and I brought part of it on myself for trying so hard to be useful to no one. What happened? Well, the leader didn’t want to get involved into any drama by only kicking the Scholar because they were friends with the White Mage, so a disbanding was supposed to be the better way to end things. Except the leader decided to do it in a different and up to date still a very shitty fashion. 

Right after we’d finished the last raiding night for the week, he posted an announcement about how people, aka his FC members were tired of constantly bashing their heads against Omega with little success and so they were gonna reform. By kicking the only outsiders of the static team. The White Mage, the Scholar, and me. There was no further explanation, no messages to me, nothing. I was just tossed like that after +6 months of knowing this FC and having raided and hung out with a good chunk of their members. I’d sacrificed so much for them. My time, my confidence to a degree, I had been a slave to their parsers more than a few occasions each time I heard them celebrating or complaining about their numbers. All because I wanted to feel like I could stand on the same levels as them. And I did to a good degree. I reached a point where I knew that my abilities weren’t as bad as the greys on my numbers showed me. But it meant nothing to any of them in the end. No message from the leader that up to that point had kept communication with me for raid times and other stuff. No reaction from the peeps I’d raided the most with. 

The most ironic part that I still respect? The only person to apologize, the only one that actually took the time to send me a message after the whole group ‘disbanded’ was the dragoon that I had only ever heard speak about their golden parses and nothing else on discord. We hadn’t even talked up until then. But he still cared more than the people that had known me for longer in that group. Granted, I did get to throw at least a cent in the raid channel about what I thought before getting kicked, so he probably wanted to come out clean on that. 

I am glad to no avail that I will never have to see them again, because the server splits sent them to a different data center. But it still left a deep mark on me when it came to XIV. I stopped logging in to do any content for a while, focused more on screenshots, on shady flower lady times until I could learn to love the game again. It probably took longer than I would have liked because all of this happened at the exact time that my friends from my crew had dived into raiding at a deeper level. I got to see them celebrate clearing the final omega. Then server transferring to be with their static before the great split or quitting. And then with Shadowbringers hearing “We’re not looking for a dps caster slot.” Each time anyone needed a fill in for their group. 

All this left me at an odd spot, being the veteran that keeps up groups or dungeons on normal modes, but having a hard time trying to get back into my niches in the game. My way of getting through raid had been to think of myself as being replaceable or worthless, but still trying to keep my hope that I’m actually valuable. Getting through all of it alone is not the solution now that I can let go of that bitterness of not being appreciated even as a person. I just happened to get a random chance to try out filling in for a group for a friend. But it wasn’t that what helped me the most both to be back on raids and to have finally built back my confidence. They probably didn’t think that I would check, but I’m the curious kind. Specially when you join a discord that has brief mentions of you on the recent chat. And seeing them mention me, and then vouching over my skills as a player, and how I was their first friend in the server? Well, despite having trouble expressing any feelings myself most of the time, when I get to think of it, you have no idea how much it meant to me. 

I managed to get back on what I like and enjoy most of what I do after deciding to take another leap of faith and join this group despite my stigma. Granted, mentions of parses and all will always be there. But not letting them define you, and believing in what you can and can’t do in content, I think is the best choice you can make to have a healthy experience and enjoy yourself as much as possible. 

[arnorcttos]

( ludovico tersigni + 22 + muse 59 ) isn’t that apollo amoretto over there? i heard HE joined faction: nomads after they got back to west ham. it’s funny, ‘cause they were only on the service trip to terrorize his peers. hopefully they fit in there – they’re ADROIT, but also INDELICATE. oh, i’m sure they’ll be fine. ( james, she/they, 20, EST )

okay hi i’m james and this is my baby apollo, who is actually a brand new spankin’ muse of mine so !! we’ll see how this goes b/c i’ve literally never rp’d him before !! and i’ll b frank. his background is inspired by logan in veronica mars. sue me. actually don’t i’m already in college debt but sudfjkfg PLEATHE plot w/ him. leave a like. two likes. that’s not even possible. i may change his fc in the future b/c like ... i’m currently making his gif icons as i go and to b frank ,,, it’s rly hard sdjfkgh but i love him. so we’ll see. sdjnfkmgh

TRIGGER WARNING - DEATH, MURDER, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

a e s t h e t i c s

fingers across keyboards and piano keys, m&m’s scattered, vintage gaming consoles and tangled wires, worn vans and broken skateboards, banging of drums and splintering drumsticks, deep rhythms beating with your heart, the hum of a hefty computer and the buzz of a monitor, green text against black screens, unruly hair unkempt, flannels filling closets, bloody baseball bats, posters lining up and down walls, loud punk music shaking the walls, glares and whispers, the suffocation that comes with loneliness, pills rattling in their bottles, unmade beds.

general info !!

full name: apollo casimir amoretto

nickname(s): caz, polly, lover boy, 2000 (b/c of his screen names lmaoo)

b.o.d. - january 31st, aquarius boi

label(s): the escapist, the hellion, the insurgent, the netizen, etc. etc.

height: hitting 6′0″

hometown: west ham, kansas !

sexuality: bi...? fucking. it’s pride month ofc he’s bi.

his stats are TBD but his pinterest is HERE !

biography !!

cristian amoretto and camilla silvestri had a romance that could be described turbulent at best, and down right explosive at worst

cristian, a native italian actor whose career began before he could walk, and camilla, the daughter of two italian immigrants with big dreams in a small town, met on the set of a coffee shop. their love story began quickly, dating within only a few months of knowing each other and engaged before the year was up

camilla walked down the aisle 6 months pregnant with lil’ baby apollo, who was then born in west ham, kansas, aka the town that camilla’s family had settled in

was raised primarily by his mother and grandparents! his father was often off shooting movies, leaving camilla to take on the role of stay-at-home mom despite her own dreams of making it big as an actress

apollo grew up as a huge momma’s boy -- i mean, god, he just really loved this mother, y’know? his relationship with his father was much rockier because of his ... lack of being around.

when his grandparents died around the age of eight, that’s when things got...worse. it felt as if camilla’s parents were the only barrier between camilla and cristian’s budding wrath.

it became more apparent that cristian was not meant for the family life, his anger quick and his fists quicker, stinging words and venomous glares. a control freak who couldn’t handle camilla being an independent woman.

this wasn’t apparent to the neighbors, or much of the town in general, because the amorettos were such a prominent family up in their mini-mansion in oak ridge -- it was hard to imagine that their life was anything but exquisite and dreamlike.

this was, of course, up until camilla filed for divorce and a restraining order in the same day, face bruised and nearly unrecognizable. she, obviously, got custody of apollo.

at this point in time, apollo was fourteen and...pretty stoked for them to get away from his father. they holed up in southside and life continued as normal. for the time being. gossip swarmed apollo at school surrounding the circumstance which was annoying, to say the least. it led to him becoming withdrawn from the other students, not getting the whole ... gossip appeal.

in hindsight, they should’ve moved out of west ham. death threats in the form of letters and the eerie feeling of eyes constantly being on them came to a halt on apollo’s graduation day: the day that his father also, coincidentally, murdered his mother.

for making me miss out on years of my son’s life, was cristian’s excuse as he was escorted from the bloody crime scene at their apartment and into the police car.

obviously, cristian was convicted and sentenced to prison. apollo still has dreams about testifying in court against his father.

and then apollo became known not as the son of two celebrities, but the son of a murderer. total bummer !

became even more withdrawn and almost dropped out of college a few good times! the only thing that kept him rooted to west ham was his band.

and now he can’t leave, and he’s surrounded by people who all look at him weird and he feels like they’re all expecting him to be like his father, and he’s not, but god -- when people expect you to be one way, it’s so hard to act otherwise. it’s just not a good time !

pretty much why he went on the service trip tbh ... like, y’know ... if ppl want to believe that he’s just as bad as his dad then damn ! he was gonna wreck sm havoc on the trip, just being an absolute nuisance. 

personality !!

his main focuses are computers / video games, drums / his band, and like ... skating ... vaping ... gamer things, y’know.

from a young age he’d always been very fascinated by video games, and being the Rich Boi (tm) that he was, ended up with a whole lot of them to play, on a whole bunch of consoles.

but like ... he’s a PC guy :/ he may have a super rare nintendo 64 console or two but nothing can beat his dual-monitor set up with his hand-build computer !

he also got real into hacking, y’know, just small things like watching security cameras in different cities and occasionally changing his grades b/c like ... who wouldn’t ? also ... cheated in dark souls. fucking loser.

his favorite games to play were always multiplayer games online like WoW and overwatch so !! he’s pretty fucking mad he can’t play them anymore. like. so mad. genuinely furious. he’s been trying to hack his way into like ... wifi or something dumb, ever since they got stranded in new west ham, but he’s had no luck !

he joined a band in high school because he was angsty and young, and like, turned out to be really good on drums ?? they had like ... some real big jimmy eat world / green day / say anything / old school fall out boy vibes. just a whole bunch of ‘fuck the government, fuck the authority, anarchy, rebellion, revolt revolt revolt’ angry rock music that got a buuunch of noise complaints during practice.

his role in the band was essentially the ~nerdy~ one, because he was a gamer, but like he was also Edgy and Angry and wore all black like Constantly (he still does who are we kidding)

probably paints his nails black and has a nose ring b/c gamers can be edgy too !!

huuuuuge junk food junkie. like ... he will consume Everything and Anything unhealthy. has a huge sweet tooth, he can’t remember the last time he’s drank straight up water.

but like ... he’s a loner pretty much. only friends he really bothered keeping were his bandmates and like ! half of them went missing along with the rest of the town so ! he’s feeling a lil’ lost

but not lost enough to do Nothing, y’know ?? coming back to west ham to an empty town awoke his little baby survivalist in him, probably due to a lot of survival games he played online, and he immediately took over his old home in oak ridge ! it was pretty much rotting there with his dad in jail, but not anymore !!

has also probably broken into a few homes already tbh b/c he’s just. ruthless. impulsive. if it feels like the end of the world then he’s yolo’ing, he’s peace-ing out, u cannot stop him.

uuhhh so he’s got this fucking...pomsky, right? her name is tulip. she was camilla’s before she passed away and like, what is apollo gonna do, huh ? put the dog in a shelter ? hell fucking nah. that’s his dog now.

unfortunately tulip isn’t the most .... tough looking dog. apollo set up a bunch of fucking speakers around the property of his dad’s house and plays large barking noises whenever somebody gets too close, just to ward off intruders, but like ... there’s no fucking big dogs man. it’s just apollo and tulip.

this isn’t like a Personality Trait but idk where to put it so ! apollo’s on antidepressants b/c like ... y’know ... the whole dad-murdering-mom thing sort of fucked him up a lot ! they make him feel pretty blah and diminished his sex drive so like ... hook ups aren’t really an option for him atm !

besides that he smokes a lot of weed b/c self medication

he’s ... sort of an asshole. like ... he can be rude and he doesn’t have much of a filter and i don’t know if there’s any softness left to him ! he just really misses his mom and his bandmates and has a lot of wishes involving changing the past and he reacts badly to things because he’s so defensive and on edge constantly.

he misses twitter the most, tho.

no but he’s just like. .. sad gamer boi ... a man and his dog ... who also carries like five knives on him and definitely knows where his dad kept his gun.

like he’s not socially awkward or necessarily Bad with people .. he’s just bad with people :/ doesn’t try hard enough ! is a little too apathetic ! chaotic to true neutral

wanted connections !!

i envision his band to have like ... four or five members including him. two guitar electric guitar, one bass, one drums / keyboard, any of them singing idk that’s not important. and since two of them have Disappeared, i’d like the One (or two) that Remains ! anarchy boys !

generally .. anybody else who is tryn to survive, that maybe he can bond with or completely clash with ??

i’d love enemies, just ppl he Refuses to get along with or they are just on bad terms for whatever reason

people he’s trying to not ! not get along with ! but it just doesn’t work out b/c like ... lbr, apollo’s pretty bad with other people.

just any falling outs.

uuhh ... maybe a few somewhat-friendships ! like... awkward acquaintances

ppl he knew primarily from high school / haven’t spoken to since

maybe one or two ppl who’s soft towards him or he’s soft towards or vice versa b/c like ! i’ll b real .. it’s pretty nice to have !

ex-flings, ex-somethings, ex-gfs, bfs, anything from the past.

hookup gone bad b/c he couldn’t get it up b/c antidepressants be like that (this is based off of a true story can we get a sad yeehaw in here)

gaming pals from before no wifi.

skater buds. vaping buds. b/c i can confirm that apollo owns like three juuls. stoner buds.

someone he’s like ... hesitantly forming an alliance with b/c sometimes it’s easier when you have someone on ur team ! b/c then drama when one of them betrays the other uwu

somebody trying 2 break into his house b/c u Know it’s got some good shit in there but he’s just like ‘alexa play dogs barking audio’ and then ur muse is like ... there’s no fucking dogs

juul pod dealer. that’s all.

i’m down for anything rly !! pleathe hmu !!