#i've gone completely off topic now

[rainbluealoekitten]

having a crush is so hard. last year i was listening to rap for some boy and now country. my god

[dazzle02]

Buck and Maddie's relationship is one of the most interesting on the show to me personally.

She was nine, she lost her brother and gained a new one and suddenly she's not just an older sister, she's a parent too. She's nine years old and someone's Mother. While not being allowed to properly grieve the brother she just lost. Not even allowed to acknowledge his existence.

And of course she did the best she could, but she was a child raising another child. No parent has all the answers, but especially not a CHILD who never asked to have this put on them. So she of course got things wrong. One that really sticks out is her explanation about their parents worry when Evan falls off his bike. She kinda put the idea in his head that getting hurt is what will get him that love he craves from their parents. And that was NOT her fault. She was 12. And also living in this abusive household. But she was the one that gave him the idea to continue hurting himself to get attention. And there are likely other things that he learned from her that weren't actually healthy, due to her being a child trying to learn about the world herself.

And when she left for Boston, that would definitely feel like a parental abandonment for Evan due to her being the only parental figure he ever really had. But it WASN'T. It was a 19 year old moving out and going to School, which is what a lot of people that age tend to do. But to Evan, it would feel like the only parent he's ever known leaving him. And logically he'd know that's not the case. She's NOT his mother, she's his sister and she's supposed to live her life and she never asked to raise a child at such a young age. He was NOT her responsibility. But emotionally? That's the start of his abandonment issues.

And it's why Maddie can be kinda overbearing with him at times too. (Especially after the lightning strike...) It was ingrained in her from the age of nine that he's her kid and she has to take care of him. So as soon as she sees him suffering in any way, those instincts come back full force. She's gotta take care of him, make sure he's not going to die while she's not looking. AND make it clear she's not leaving him again.

They've had to figure out how to go from the relationship they had as kids where she was more a parent than a sister, to a new one now that they're adults where they're siblings.

And that's gotta be tough. And I would love more of a focus on that really. Just them still kinda adjusting to having to have this new dynamic. Because logically they both are aware that Maddie having to raise Buck was messed up and unfair for them both. But it's also just what's normal to them.

And any time someone comes for Maddie about not being a good sister it makes my blood boil. SHE DOES HER BEST! She was a child raising a child, and she's now an adult who went through abuse for pretty much her entire life! First the neglect from her parents (plus the parentification) and then her marriage to Doug for like 15 years! Of course she's not perfect. And as much as they both love each other, they ARE BOTH part of each others traumas. For Maddie a big trauma for her was having to raise him, and for Buck a big trauma for him was her leaving. And they've managed to work through that for the most part. It's always going to be there, they're both very defining for each of them. For Maddie having to become a parent at such a young age made her feel as though she couldn't be a very good one due to not being a perfect parent AS A CHILD. And for Buck, Maddie leaving was definitely the start of his abandonment issues. And neither of them are at fault for that, but they both have these issues that are directly tied to each other. It all comes back to their parents though. If they'd just done their jobs as parents, things would be so different.

Some of this may not make much sense as it is very hot here right now and I am not thinking right. But you get what I mean, hopefully. 🤣

I would also like to add to Supernatural fans, you can not claim Dean Winchester is just the best brother in the world for raising Sam and then turn around and claim Maddie is a terrible sister. Especially as Dean could be very abusive at times...

[3hks]

Writing Character CHANGE

Character development is absolutely CRUCIAL to a story, but having spent more time thinking about this topic, I came to the realization that I misunderstood a lot of points other people have made when teaching how to write character development.

There are a lot of factors that play into character development, but in this post, I'll cover some overall, but the main thing concerns any change to your character! (Which is also a huge part in development, really.)

So with this post, I'll be teaching you MY personal tips regarding this subject!

*The Basics*

Before we really get into the developmental stage, there are some things you want to establish, in which I'll explain later!

A couple of flaws.

How your character views themselves at first.

Your character's morals/ideals and how they think.

These things may vary, but you want your readers to be able to at least roughly predict how your character will act during specific events!

*Change*

Character development is just about how your character changes throughout the story. I like to say that there are several different ways one may change, (we'll get into that later on) but your character should NOT stay the same as the same person during the exposition and during the resolution!

"During character development, your character should grow."

This is a common piece of advice; your character needs to grow. And while I've assumed for the longest time that I understood what it meant, it never truly clicked.

While they will use words such as grow, what they really mean is that your character should mature. By the end of your story, your character may not always end up as a better person. When I say mature, I mean that they have reflected back on their life and have understood the consequences that came with their actions (if any) or how they could've done things differently.

Your character will not always end up as a better, fixed person, but they should understand their world and themselves better.

*Negative/Passive Change*

Alright then, so how does a character develop if they don't necessarily change for the better? Well, I'll get into that!

No matter what, your character should have learned a lesson through their experience. Even if they haven't exactly improved as a person, there should be a moral they can learn from what they have gone through.

If not, then did they really grow?

Additionally, how did their qualities negatively impact themselves? If they are bad traits, then it needs to be clear. And the best way to achieve this is by demonstrating how it hurts your character! However, it is rather uncommon for a character to undergo little to no change after a story!

*Positive Change*

Let's circle back to the basics, real quick. Remember how I said that before any development takes place, your character should be anything but perfect? That same thing applies to after the change.

Do NOT create a flawless character by the end of your story. Instead, focus on one or two flaws that get fixed as the story continues. These don't have to be huge, life-changing imperfections, but they can be minor ones that still shape their life in one way or another.

"Fixing" too many shortcomings can make your character seem, well, out of character, producing a character development that's more forced. The same thing applies if you're attempting to FULLY alter a fault that's just too big. The change will be too noticeable.

What am I talking about? Here's an example!

Imagine a character who's incredibly closed off to other people, wanting to ensure that he never gets too close to others.

That's a pretty sizable flaw, no? By the end of your story, you do not want to completely change because you need to preserve character, but you can change it a bit. Does he have a few friends now? Does he understand that there are some people worth trusting?

He may still be closed off to majority of people, but at least it's not everyone, and that's a realistic change.

*Different Changes*

As I continue to read more stories and watch more shows, I have realized that character development is not always about fixing flaws or personality, but it can extend far past that line.

So listen up, because I feel like no one really talks about this.

Your character can change their IDEALS, MORALS, and how they VIEW THEMSELVES.

Hear that? If your character has strong morals, they will hardly stay the same as they reach the end. Remember the requirements I mentioned at the beginning?

See how it connects now? There is SO much more to character development than changing a few imperfections. Like I said in the start, your character needs to grow and mature. Things like new morals or ideals assist with that!

*SUMMARY*

In order to start character development, you need a couple of flaws, an idea of how your character looks at themselves, and their morals. This is because those are the main parts of you character that may change through time.

Growth = Maturing (gaining a better sense of who they are and the world they live in.)

NOT ALL CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT IS POSITIVE!

For negative or passive change, make sure to clarify how their imperfections affected or hurt them and have some sort of moral that follows.

YOUR CHARACTER SHOULD NOT BE PERFECT!

They should not be perfect in the beginning, and not perfect in the end! Do not 'fix' too many traits because you want to preserve character.

I think that's all! It's quite the post for something so simple, eh? But hey, character development is absolutely PIVOTAL to a story so I hope I at least explained the 'change' part of that well!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) VI

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alexia tries to talk to you

TW: discussions of eating disorder

It's reminiscent of that night all those years ago when Alexia came home and was shoved against her own wall by her sister.

It's funny how history repeats itself.

Alexia, back to the wall and unable to understand why and Alba, absolutely furious, being the one to hold her there.

"Alba?" Olga shrieks, standing up from her spot on the sofa.

Alba had one of the spare keys but usually, she didn't use it. Today she had though, bursting through the door like a woman on a mission and shoving Alexia up against the wall.

Jaume never saw the first time but he's heard about it. He couldn't have lived so long in this family without finding out about what happened when he was a baby. But, still, this is the first time he's seen Tia Alba angry at Mami and he watches with wide eyes from the top of the stairs.

"She's skin and bones!" Tia Alba hisses," I watched her today! She could barely stand up!"

"I know."

"And she...Wait, what?"

"I know, Alba." Alexia is calm even though her sister still has a tight grip on her shoulders, pinning her to the wall. "We know. We're trying to work out how to help."

Alba lets go of her, stepping away. "You know?"

Alexia nods. "We know. We're just trying to work out how. She always finishes dinner."

Guilt settles low in Jaume's gut as Mami, Mama and Tia Alba start discussing your eating habits.

You'd always been a bit peckish. You were never much of a big eater.

Jaume was the opposite. He was a growing boy. He ate a lot, especially on days with football training. He hadn't thought much of you offering your food to him, grateful that he wouldn't have to rifle through the fridge when Mami and Mama left the kitchen.

The topic of dinner comes up again and Jaume lingers on the bottom step, threading his fingers together anxiously.

"She..."

The three women fall silent as he steps into the light.

"What is it, Jaume?" Olga asks.

"Mama," He says, throat bobbing and tears welling in his eyes," I didn't...She never...I didn't know, Mama."

"Didn't know what? What is it?"

"Bambi...I..."

Alexia has always been his idol. She's a legend at Barcelona, captain of the club, captain of the country. Her trophies seemed endless and so did her awards. She was a World Cup winner. One of the greatest to ever play the game.

He wanted to be like her.

Her approval meant everything to him.

"Jaume," Alexia says," What is it? About Bambi? Tell us."

"I've been eating her dinner," He admits," When you and Mama turn your backs. She gives it to me."

Tia Alba noisily blows out air, hands cradling her head and Jaume can see the heartbreak on absolutely everyone's faces.

"Thank you for telling us," Alexia says," You're a good boy, Jaume."

Jaume's throat still feels tight though and guilt still swirls in his belly. "Is she...Is she going to be okay?"

No one answers.

It's a delicate situation to work around.

Alba drops hints during your weekly lunch. Olga keeps an eye on your snack breaks after school. Alexia tries to heap more food onto your plate.

You don't notice anything wrong though, apart from the fact that Jaume is suddenly not hungry anymore. He doesn't want your leftovers.

Alexia's the one to confront you, slipping into your room as you finish up some homework.

"Hey," She says.

"Hey." You finish off your last sentence before spinning around in your chair. "What's up?"

Your room has changed since you were little.

Most of your train tracks and little sets are packed away in the attic but your favourite models still litter your shelves. Your bed has gotten bigger and the bookshelf that used to be covered in children's stories is now full of textbooks and little dancing knickknacks like dead pointe shoes or worn-through ballet flats.

A desk has been moved in for you to complete your school work and your closet is now full of clothes you wanted to buy rather than what Alexia used to want you in.

Gone is the little girl with full, round baby cheeks and in her place is a teenager who's lost weight at an alarming rate.

Alexia can hardly believe it.

"I bought us ice cream."

She waves the tub teasingly at you and you pull a face.

"Sorry, Mami," You say," But I'm not hungry right now."

You spin your chair back to your desk.

Alexia spins it back.

You huff.

"Even just a little bit?" She asks," I can't finish this all by myself."

"Jaume's always hungry. Eat with him."

Something prickles down your spine.

Mami is acting weird like she knows something about you that you don't want her to know.

You stare across at her from the bank of a river. You're on one side. She's on the other. The river rushes between you, a gaping chasm that's getting more and more dangerous as it splashes at the banks.

"I can't eat with you?"

She's pushing now and you snap.

"Why does it matter? I'm not hungry! Drop it!"

Alexia's façade drops as well.

"You've not been eating," She says bluntly.

The water laps more furiously at the banks of the river, rushing towards to a waterfall. Alexia looks at you from across the bank. You stare back at her unblinking.

"Yes..." You say, frozen in place," Yes, I have. What are you talking about?"

"Are you an athlete?"

"What?"

"Do you consider yourself an athlete?"

You scoff, standing up. Your stomach swirls as blood rushes to your head. You feel a little woozy and light-headed but you force your way through it.

"Is this your way of saying that dance isn't active enough for you? Yes! Yes, I consider myself an athlete."

"Then why aren't you fuelling yourself like one?"

Alexia's being gentle about this, trying to coax you out of the corner you've found yourself trapped in. She should have been more subtle though, she realises with a jolt, because you're seconds away from bolting.

She reaches out for you across the bank, a simple hand.

You want to take it. You want her to throw a rope across for you. Something for you to hold and clutch as you swim over to her, to safety.

But you just can't.

Safety means questions and you don't want to answer her questions. You're sure she'll hate you for what she unearths. You're sure she'll look at you and not see her daughter looking back.

If you can't be perfect for her, if you can't be perfect for yourself then you're not worth anything to her.

Jaume has common interests with Mami. He plays football like she did. He plays well like she did. He's going to be world-class like she was.

You have little in common with Alexia but it doesn't make her love you any less. She adores you. She'd drop everything to make sure you're alright.

She doesn't care if you're not perfect. She doesn't care if you decide to quit ballet altogether. She just wants you to be alright.

But you just don't believe that.

You need perfection in yourself. You assume Alexia needs perfection from you as well.

She's staring across the bank from you, arm still out.

You reach for it but the river has gotten more aggressive. The mud on the bank is slippery.

You go straight in.

You try to inflate your lungs but all you can do is breathe in icy cold water as you're battered against the rocks.

You look at Alexia, still holding a tub of ice cream.

She looks at you.

You bolt.

Out of your room. Down the stairs. Out the door and down the street.

Alexia would run after you but she knows. She knows you so well. You'll just run from her and you're much fitter than she is right now. You'd get away quickly.

If she lets you go now then she'll at least know where you're going.

If she runs after you then you could go anywhere.

You're scared. Alexia has scared you.

It's a difficult conversation to have so Alexia lets you run. You need time to calm down, to prepare for this.

She's not happy. She can't be happy when you are starving yourself for reasons still unknown but she can be content with her decision to let you go for now.

You'll have run to somewhere you feel safe.

Alexia can be content.

Or, she's content for a few hours until she gets that call.

"Is this Alexia Putellas?"

"Yes?"

"Hi, I'm just calling because you're put down at y/n's emergency contact? I'm afraid she's passed out in one of the practice rooms."

[morallygreyyn]

Can i pls get some clingy ass illumi x reader who hasn’t seen them in days because of his missions?

Have a nice day!! Make sure to drink water💓

miss me? (illumi zoldyck x reader)

description: illumi has been gone for a week and when he returns, he seems slightly off. it didn't take you long to realise that he wanted attention, namely yours...

authors note: another super old ask but i love this one with all my heart and soul. illumi? stunning. clingy illumi? immaculate. seriously there is nothing i love more than illumi so this is how i think he would be when he's clingy and wants attention! have a lovely day anon and i really hope you drink lots of water! (seriously i've just found out how important this is so pls everyone drink lots of water to flush out that bacteria) 💗

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

requests are open! please read my rules!

You hadn’t seen Illumi Zoldyck for the better part of a week. While you were used to the assassin leaving often for work, usually you were in a position to follow him. This time, however, was one of the rare occasions where you had to stay home at your apartment, all for that blasted electrician who kept cancelling on you. If he called you one more time to cancel, while you stayed home when you could have followed your boyfriend to a sunny location that you would have treated like a holiday, you swore you would hire the Zoldyck yourself to track him down. 

As though he had heard your silent threat, the electrician came and went, and your kitchen appliances were once again fully operational. Happy that you could finally restock the fridge, you left to get groceries. You couldn’t admit this out loud, but your apartment often felt too empty without the assassin occupying it too. While he didn’t own the space where you lived, he stayed there often enough that he may as well share it with you. 

It had surprised you when you brought up the offer of living together and he didn’t reject the idea immediately. Illumi actually seemed contemplative, as though it was almost a pleasant thought. That was what you assumed anyway, you could never truly tell what he was thinking most of the time. 

By the time you returned home, you knew something was different immediately. For one, you were certain that you had locked the door. Cautiously stepping into the apartment, you coiled and prepared to strike whatever or whoever was lurking. Despite not being an assassin, you were still a qualified Hunter, and those licences did not come easy.

It turns out that you needn't have bothered as, when you approached the living area, Illumi was sitting calmly at your kitchen island watching you. 

“Oh, Illumi!” Setting down your bags, you ran to him, throwing your arms around your boyfriend as you held him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“No signal.” He said simply as he let you hug him, hands gingerly settling around you. You had to fight tooth and nail for him to learn how to hug properly, and even now he still hadn’t quite managed to perfect the act. Despite this, he still tried, and that was good enough for you. 

Pulling away, you looked at him with a smile. “How was it?”

He shrugged, a clear sign he was disinterested in the topic. “Simple.”

Nodding, you stepped back to put the groceries away, not wanting them to rot on the floor. Illumi sat back down, fathomless eyes locked on you while you completed the task you had set for yourself. You liked to think that you knew the Zoldyck rather well, and that included when something was bothering him.

Turning around, you raised an eyebrow as you met his gaze. “What?”

“What?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Why are you pointing that out?”

“Because I’m wondering why.”

“I stare at you a lot.” He stated, tone very matter of factly.

“I know, but now it seems different.”

“It isn’t.”

“If you say so, darling.” You rolled your eyes and finished putting the food away. Once you had, you turned to face your boyfriend once more, looking for an explanation.

“You forgot something.” Illumi said, and while his voice was the usual light and expressionless one, his eyes still bore into yours.

Looking around, you couldn’t see anything out of place, and you had certainly left nothing on the counters. “What did I forget?”

Illumi didn’t answer, only continued to look at you expectedly. Now you were really confused, and slightly unnerved by his odd behaviour. Illumi rarely acted like this.

With no answer to give you clarity, you grinned in feigned annoyance, kissed his cheek and whispered you were happy to have him back before you left to head into the room you used as an at home office. 

Sitting down at your desk and opening your files, you stared blankly at the screen while you mentally observed Illumi’s behaviour. There was something amiss, and you couldn’t put your finger on what. He wasn’t usually the expressive one; well, he was never the expressive one. All physical, verbal, and emotional affection fell on your shoulders to deliver. While this may seem one sided to most, you didn’t mind as you knew Illumi was not able to express much by way of love. Despite this, you knew he loved you, in his own way. He had threatened to kill the electrician for you when you complained about the situation to him, and that spoke millions. Not only that, but he also allowed you to be as affectionate as you are with him, and he accepted it whereas anyone else wouldn’t have a chance in hell of even approaching him, let alone the things you did together.

What was bothering him?

Just then, you saw a shadow move in your peripheral vision, and your heart dropped to your ass. “Fucking hell, Illumi! At least knock!”

He ignored your outburst. “What are you doing?”

“Working.” You said as you willed your heart to calm down.

“Oh.” Illumi stayed standing behind you, hovering ominously. 

Then it clicked, Illumi was being clingy. This was how he acted when he wanted attention. Unable to control yourself, you laughed loudly at the realisation.

“What?” He asked, watching you stand from your seat to face him.

Your smile was incredibly smug as you approached, wrapping your hands around his waist. “Did somebody miss me?”

Naturally, he didn’t respond and it might’ve been your imagination, but he seemed to relax under your touch. 

“I think I know what I’ve forgotten.” You captured your lips with his own, smiling as you did so. It was moments like this that made you realise that Illumi did in fact love you, and that he was quite attached to you. Even if he didn’t show it much, his hands resting on you, the slide of his lips against your own, the way he seemed unwilling to let you go spoke for him.You pulled away for a moment, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. You had the Illumi Zoldyck as your lover, and no matter what anyone said, he loved you. “Miss me?”

[savanir]

DP x DC ficlet

is it even a ficlet anymore, this thing has gotten incredibly out of hand...

So a while back I saw this

and I picked the Green Lantern one and then just kinda wrote a full fic so...

It had been a good party, official yes but despite that still festive enough and with just a bittersweet hint. as all good meaningful parties should be like, unless you’re looking to get absolutely shitfaced.

But hey Rowan deserved a proper sendoff for making it to this point and not dying in the process. Hal is going to miss the old pilot though.

"Hal, I got something for you, before I forget"

"Hm, what is it"

The old man puts a small intricate glass model of a f16 fighter in his hand.

"Back when I started I was given this for good luck and protection"

Rowan presses it down firmly and stands there all official like "may it grant you both as it did for me"

They both stand there for a second before laughing.

“Feel free to shelf the whole luck thing, what’s really important is skill and experience. Still, knowing you, you can definitely use the protection ”

Hal grins, "Thanks, I'll keep close"

"You better, the sentimental value is sky high" Rowan slaps his shoulder with another laugh.

Good lord what a dork.

The old retiring pilot wasn't paying attention, too caught up in everything else but Hal saw the faint and brief green hue coming from his hand.

In a panic he slammed his other hand over top. Completely missing the quietly whispered "protect"

Too busy cussing out his ring in his head, he swears that thing is trying to out him on purpose sometimes.

This time it wasn't the ring though, so it's a good thing it's an inanimate object and can't be upset at how wrong Hal is being right now.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah! Let's get back to the others"

The evening ends uneventfully.

---

It's really only until quite a bit later that things start to happen.

"Green lantern" its batman's business voice.

Both Hal and John look up.

"Jordan" ah shit.

"I'll catch you up later" and he leaves Hal behind, traitor.

"What's up spooky"

"You need to update your file, it is missing critical information, and on that note I wasn’t aware that the lantern suits grant you intangibility now"

"I... what..? It doesn't? What are you talking about spooks"

"Hrn" Batman pulls up a screen and shows him footage of the latest fight, in it you can clearly see something was supposed to hit Hal but went right through him "You're telling me you didn't know or notice this?"

Hal just looks kinda sick. That would have been a bad hit and he just straight up didn't even notice.

Batman just kind of silently looks at him and he must have come to some conclusion because the next thing Hal knows this comes out of his mouth.

"I've already ran your blood through the lab, it's not a sudden emergence of a meta gene so it's either from the lantern corps or you've otherwise externally been affected by something that's causing this"

Hal closes his eyes and internally counts to ten, it doesn't help.

Batman takes his silence to mean he can keep talking. The man is on an unusual roll. Hal would have been ecstatic if he didn't hate the topic quite so much.

"It would have been best if it had something to do with your ring however you seem to be completely unaware and I've also noted that the green of your ring and the green glow that comes with the density shifting are different"

He has examples with corresponding color codes, Hal is so tired.

“let's set a time frame…” Batman pulls up some documents and graph on the screen “seeing as you are unaware of this development I will set the starting point of this potential change as of now to right after the last time you have been known to be hit in a fight and before the first known instance of you being able to density shift, that leaves us with a full month.”

Hal really, really does not want to be here anymore.

“In this month you have not gone off planet so whatever caused this is on Earth” Batman pauses for a moment, “has anything significant happened during that time that springs to mind now?”

“no, nothing significant has happened during that time, frankly it’s been a very pleasant uneventful four weeks in which I finally managed to catch a break and it figures something crazy has apparently happened anyway”

Hal rubs his face with both hands, “but right now I couldn’t tell you what, anyway, does this have to be a bad thing? I for one am very glad that hit didn’t actually land”

“So far only Superman has had the privilege of having sudden emergence of new powers work out for him” Batman huffs, “it would be best to monitor this carefully, if anything springs to mind do not hesitate to inform me, the sooner this is figured out the better”

“awww you do care” Hal is using humor cope, sadly it’s Batman, so it’s not very effective.

“Jordan” now Batman sounds tired, he’s not the one with random surprise density shifting, Hal understand that Spooky’s crippling chronic paranoia must be exhausting but right now he’s the one freaking out considering this is apparently not a meta gene related development, it would have been so much easier if it was, oh and about that, just how and when did Batman get his blood exactly? he would like to know now.

---

sadly he does not get to know now. or anytime soon (or ever). it’s chaos right after, because of course it is.

knocked out of the sky and lying amongst the rubble, if their enemy spots him he’s in bigger shit than he already is, but he can’t fucking move and the next thing he knows he’s invisible.

and there is just nothing enjoyable about it.

Barry doesn’t know that though, “that was something else, just one moment and schwup and you were just gone, some sort of green lantern light bending? he looked right through you, thank god he did too” 

shit shit, “no that was..." it was like he just ceased to exist, movies and books and whatever other media always depicts it as such a cool thing but frankly it was terrifying. And he would prefer things that are terrifying not to happen to him, for obvious reasons, “honestly actually it’s complicated, stealth tech” Grade A bullshit.

“well it’s awesome”

“it was useful just now but not really my style you know” 

Barry slings his arm over Hal’s shoulder and gives him a one armed hug, “everything worked out” Hal can feel some tension flow out of his friend, “well! better get busy cleaning this mess up” and with a blink he’s gone.

Hal does not want to talk about this with Batman, but knowing him, he probably already knows anyway, it would be less of a headache to go to him than have him go to Hal. 

Hal wants to enjoy whatever this is, he really does, but he doesn’t know what caused this, he doesn’t know what triggers the new abilities or whatever they are, he doesn’t know what effects this shit is going to have in the future, he just doesn’t know anything, normally he doesn’t mind not knowing some things, he’s fine leaving the knowing to the people better suited for the more complicated knowing, but he would very much like to know more about this please.

---

Then they face off against an enemy and in the process Hal drains his ring completely and the next hit is going to be bad, so what will happen? Will he somehow go intangible again? Turn invisible and use the confusion to evade and attack?

No

Apparently this time he just gets a glowing green dome shield. Something very normal for him to have and use, if only it came out of his ring that is.

Nobody notices that something is wrong, nobody besides Batman that is.

"That's three new abilities that only appear during life threatening situations"

Hal has actually seriously gone over that month by now, but nothing, no answers. He's physically fine, mentally a little damaged but nothing new there, they all are. Every test he begrudgingly went through answered nothing. He was fine. Whatever was going on actually had nothing to do with him.

And at the same time it had everything to do with him because this is only happening to him.

As usual (by now) he takes out his little glass fighter jet and runs his thumb over the wings. It is soothing strangely enough. Like a stim toy.

"The last thing to try is a thorough examination by someone from the justice league dark"

Hal groans, magic, ok then, "Alright let's get this over with. Who knows maybe I'm just haunted"

It turns out he’s not haunted, this is a good thing... supposedly, Well let’s just say that Hal would have not minded being haunted or something if that meant it could be fixed, or just explained.

It doesn’t really need to be fixed, whatever this is has been very helpful after all, but he would do basically anything for an explanation right about now.

“you are not haunted or otherwise magically compromised, but I do sense faint traces of energy from the infinite realms” Zatanna is a godsent, finally something to work with.

“from the who whats?” Hal is worried, the occult field is definitely not his area of expertise. He's a space cop, not a space demonhunter… oh that would be pretty cool though, with like a hood and twin cyber crossbows, maybe he should incorporate that somehow.

“the infinite realms… have you recently been in touch with any death related realities?”

Well there was that time when he got booted to the death universe and he died and then he was a black lantern but he got better, that’s all very much very behind him.

She better not be about to tell him that stuff still has lingering consequences.

oh god dammit that’s exactly what is going on isn’t it?

"How recently?"

"In the past week?"

"Oh, no" Hal would have known if that was the case, death stuff tends to be hard to ignore.

Zatanna frowns, that's probably not a good sign.

"But you said I'm not compromised right?" Right now what Hal wants to know the most is if this is changing him. Cause it tends to be bad for him when that's the case.

"No this is just lingering traces of something or someone else using their powers near you"

???!!??!?

"What are the infinite realms?" oh hey there Batman, was wondering when you would show up again.

"It's the afterlife, or... more like a collection of all afterlives. The infinite realms is very literal in their naming. It is home to powerful dead entities. As a general rule magic users are discouraged from interacting with it.

"Hrn"

"What did you say happened to you so far Hal?"

"Uhm, density shifting, invisibility and then a green dome-like shield, a lot like my own energy constructs"

"that sounds like pretty standard stuff for a realms being"

"Soooo what, did one leave the afterlife and decide to follow me around or something?"

"I cannot conclusively say, I can only say that you've been close to one using its abilities"

Batman folds his arms over his chest, "We shouldn’t form theories on these findings alone, Zatanna are these realm beings dangerous?"

"Hard to say, they come in all manner of forms, some small and harmless and others on the level of world destroying gods."

Great great great, awesome, well it’s probably safe to say that whatever decided to stick around Hal isn’t small and harmless, cause small and harmless doesn’t sound strong enough to casually turn him intangible or invisible… he could be wrong though.

“I do advise caution, beings from the infinite realms also have the ability to possess someone, they call it overshadowing”

Batman’s lips thin and Hal tenses up, mind control of any kind is always awful.

“I’ll place a ward on you, as a precaution” energy starts to gather in her hands.

Batman moves for the door, “we might need to look into a way to force this being to reveal itself, it would be best if we could convince it to return to their realm”

“Well I mean-” Hal starts, “like I get that, but they have been a great help so far” 

“they are a security risk”

“I’m just saying, I am grateful that they kept me from being confined to the medical wing for who even knows how long, who knows they might just be shy, wouldn’t it be better to convince them to become our ally, like Deadman. instead of telling them to leave. just cause we don’t understand how they work yet doesn’t mean they are bad and should be booted out of our reality”

Batman narrows his eyes at Hal and turns to Zatanna who is finished with placing the ward on Hal, “Zatanna please send me all you have on the infinite realms, I will do my own research” and with that he sweeps out of the room, very dramatic.

“Ass” Hal whispers under his breath.

“He’s worried”

“well he’s being a dick about it, as usual” Hal’s fingers find his little plane once again “... hey do you think they could communicate through one of those oejah boards?”

Zatanna snorts, “it’s Ouija- and please don’t”

---

No information from the JLD has been useful so far in coaxing the realms being to reveal themselves and for the most part things just go on as usual.

“Whoever they are, they followed me when I went off planet and it might just be my imagination but I had a feeling that their stuff was a lot more… potent? out there? I don’t know it was kinda strange, it just felt stronger”

“but they didn’t reveal themselves to you?”

“nope, they must know that I know now too, so they have decided to just… go on as they always have I guess”

“hrn” Batman is leafing through files, because of this whole mess he’s uncovered hidden government organizations targeting occult entities as well as inhumane laws that stand directly opposed to the meta protection acts.

Why is he working with paper regarding this matter? Well it turns out there is a infinite realms being that can possess electronica and it was only because of the protections the JLD had put in place on the Watchtower that the entity didn’t overtake it in its entirety.

Watching Constantine freak out had been mildly entertaining but Zatanna had once again reminded Batman to be very careful, Batman had begrudgingly admitted he had made a slight misstep while digging for answers… in his head, not out loud, god forbid.

“this whole thing is turning out a lot bigger than we thought huh, good thing we are dealing with it now” Hal stretches his arms above his head, “anyway I am going to go grab something to eat”

“the rapport-” Batman doesn’t bother looking at him.

“yeah yeah” Hal doesn’t either while walking out of the room, dismissively flicking his hand, “don’t worry about it spooky”

Hal takes his little plane out on the way to the cafeteria and fiddles with it in his hand, once there he puts it on the table next to Barry before getting himself something to eat.

They catch up, Hal complains (bitches) about Batman, others come and go, Zatanna quickly checks up on the ward she placed which makes Barry raise an eyebrow at Hal, “Ghost protection”

“... no such thing”

Zatanna glares.

Hal can see them both gearing up to start the magic is just science we haven’t fully scienced out yet argument again, “alright! I’m full” he stands up, “if you need me I’ll be writing that rapport, later” and gets the hell out of there.

It’s when he has just reached his preferred spot to work on the boring paperwork stuff when the alarms go off throughout what he can only imagine must probably be the entire Watchtower.

It seems like something triggered all of the JLD’s defenses in one go.

Impressive, but also very worrying.

The rapport is going to have to wait.

People are gathering in the meeting room and Batman is already taking the lead, “status”

“as of a couple minutes ago there was a build up of as of yet unknown energy which then burst in the cafeteria knocking out Flash” Martian Manhunter says, “Zatanna says we are most likely dealing with another being from the infinite realms”

Superman groans, this means he’s out.

It’s a good thing they now have defenses against overshadowing though. Being effectively trapped in a space station (because currently the thing is on lockdown) where literally anyone could suddenly actually be the enemy is the kind of situation a whole slew of horror movies like to be about.

“We will need to be extremely careful while finding and then dealing with this entity”

It has certainly been quite some time since the Watchtower got directly hit like this.

Hal pulls out his little plane.

or, he would, if he still had it.

thoroughly distracted now he suddenly realizes it’s no longer on his person.

Spooky is probably not going to like it if during the infinite realms attacker hunt he takes the opportunity to look around for his missing little fighter jet.

well what he doesn’t know won’t harm him.

His plan of looking for the plane while looking for the ghost is working out well enough.

In fact it is working out so good that he finds both at the same time.

At that point Hal had started wondering if maybe Barry had picked it up for him at the cafeteria before the attack happened and that the little thing was now in the medical wing with him. 

That turned out to clearly not be the case once he found the tiny thing glowing green and floating in the middle of the hallway.

“alright ghosty, that’s really important to me and I would like it back undamaged”

the tiny plane turned to now point directly at him, hmm, yeah that's not creepy at all.

 “... please don’t launch yourself at me” he foolishly says which of course means that’s exactly what it does next.

He uses his ring to construct a net with a pillow inside to catch the tiny jet, completely forgetting that it’s overshadowed and can thus easily just go intangible and right through his creations.

Instead it hits him square in the chest, rather painfully he might add and then just stops glowing and drops, making Hal scramble to not have it fall and shatter in a million tiny pieces on the ground.

immediately all the sensors stop detecting the presence of a realms being and the alarms die down.

Whatever was in the Watchtower has left the building.

or…

Hal looks down at the tiny plane in his hands, his talisman of protection and has a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Hey there little guy, might want to explain yourself?” he says to the tiny jet.

It vibrates in his hands.

“... yeah I figured, shit”

---

“I say just smash the bloody thing and be done with it, preferably that takes care of it once and for all” Constantine glares down at the tiny jet.

Hal is almost halfway over the table to shield the little thing, covering it from Constantine’s sight with his hand, “don’t you dare” he growls.

“it would be best for everyone involved, for all we known you could have gone full liminal what with how long you’ve been carrying the blasted thing around”

Zatanna is going over the little thing with her own magic, “it’s trapped”

“In that case just straight up trying to murder it would be the worst thing to do” Hal glares at Constantine some more. Who clearly doesn’t give a shit, figures, all stressed out about dealing with things from the infinite realms but whenever he feels he has the upper hand he’s more than happy to go full nuclear.

“it would be best if we had a way of figuring out their intentions” Batman looks down at the tiny jet impassively.

“Well, another reason to just carefully release this creature instead” Hal responds.

Zatanna’s magic fades away, “I would say that the fact it’s been protecting Hal for as long as he has it is a positive sign”

“hrn, but now it has gone and knocked Flash out, so what does that say” Batman huffs, “it’s too risky”

“Constantine and I will set up everything we can so it won’t be able to escape or try anything dangerous” Zatanna stops looking at Batman and turns back to the tiny plane, “if it turns out to be malicious we could simply banish it back to the realms, killing it would be rather stupid, we do not know what kind of connections it might have within the realms, we might accidentally anger something far worse with such a rash act”

Constantine groans but accepts Zatanna’s reasoning, Batman nods as well.

It’s only then that Hal moves out of the way.

Any plans of attack or banishment fly right out of the window once the two magic users are done and a young boy manifests from the tiny fighter jet.

Hal pushes Constantine aside to get to the boy’s side.

“Jordan, are you insane! Get back here!” 

“Hey, kid, can you hear me? please open your eyes, slowly, take your time” 

Batman has also moved forward much to Constantine’s frustration. Don't these two morons get that their protections won’t do shit if you just casually stroll into the circle?

Batman is mostly concerned in being able to step in should the boy prove to be a hostile entity anyway, but at the same time… well, that’s a child.

The boy kind of dazedly opens his eyes, looks at Hal and then seems to become aware of his own arms and hands, after opening and closing those a couple times he looks back at Hal and lets out a breath that can only be described as relieved and promptly passes out into him.

Well, Hal figures that settles it then. He doesn’t know shit about looking after a kid, and definitely not one who is probably quite dead, but this one is his, back off Batman.

they all startle rather violently when rings of blinding white light pass over the boy and suddenly the kid in Hal’s arms is a bit warmer and seems to have a sluggish pulse and also his clothes are different and his hair is now black and-

Hal is up and moving towards the medical wing before his mind catches back up with him. He can hear Batman behind him, it seems like Constantine and Zatanna aren’t moving after him as fast.

Well anyway his life is already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen.

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[likedovesinthewindd]

give or take; part ten of sore loser ⋆ masterlist

summary: patrick comes to visit | content/warning: explicit language, arguing and light angst | tags: @midwestprincesss | a/n: yes it is short again I'm sorry but also I need ideas on this damn ending yall give me ideas pls!!

Art squints his eyes, his racket rising in the air with precision before he serves. It's near perfect and and you watch attentively as him and his teammate play, your good hand absent-mindedly rubbing over the plaster of your cast.

Watching Art play was always a feast for the eyes, but recently, it had filled you with an uncertain envy. You deeply yearned to be in his position, the weeks until you were gully healed feeling like they were moving at a snailspace.

Your mind had been running wild recently; agitated because you couldn't play, frustrated because you couldn't write or do your work without help and scared at what your future from here looked like. Per your scholarship's terms, they didn't drop you completely, and your coach had promised she would wait until you were healed.

The words were supposed to put you at ease, but your doctor's voice rang in the back of your mind, her concern over how well your wrist would heal based on how bad you had broken it. Her telling you that you could suffer from possible long-term effects.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't immediately register Patrick plopping down next to, only coming to when he nudged your shoulder with his.

Your laugh was like a bell that went off in Art's head, and he looked over to find you wrapping your arms around his friend in greeting. The game was suddenly less important, and he asked his teammate for a break which he begrudgingly agreed to. He made his way over to the two of you, Patrick enveloping him in a tight hug and pulling away to slap his hands against his face playfully.

The three of you cut Art's practice short and made your way to the food court to catch up. Patrick didn't miss the way you decided to sit next to Art, the both of you sitting across from him. He didn't miss the way your thighs rubbed against Art's, his knee playfully nudging yours under the table every now and then and the shy smile he gave you every time you caught his gaze. The three of you were happily catching up before you realized you'd forgotten your gym bag, excusing yourself and leaving the two friends to their own devices.

Patrick looked over at his friend, deep in thought as he bit into his sandwich. "So," Patrick started making Art look up at him with raised eyebrows. "You two?" he asked. "What about us? Art asked through a mouthful. "C'mon," Patrick scoffed. "It's obvious things have gotten a little serious since I've been gone," he reasoned, taking a big gulp of his coke before continuing.

"Have you two been fucking?" he asked what he wanted to ask from the beginning. Art dropped his sandwich, his face scrunching into an appalled expression. "That's none of your business, man," he replied, watching Patrick's smile widen, cheeks balling at the action.

"I thought we told each other everything?" he asked, voice taking on a serious tone despite his smirk. "Why does it bother you so much?" Art asked, already passed irritated. "It doesn't," Patrick lied, "I just can't help but wonder where that leaves me."

Patrick took another bite of his sandwich, finishing it before adding, "I hope you realize this is just a game to her." Another bite at his sandwich. "A conquest. She's using you," he adds bitterly. "What could she possibly be using me for?" Art asked, angered by Patrick's claim, who in return shrugged, that stupid smirk still present on his face. "I dunno. Emotional support, pity, to somehow absorb your skills, sex? You figure it out, Art."

Art's frown deepened, ready to retort at his friend until you sat down in your spot next to him, sparing them both a smile and an out of breath apology. The topic was dropped there, the three of you continuing where you had left them.

It was, however, brought up again a few days later, this time between you and Patrick when the two of you had gone to watch one of Art's matches.

"What happened?" he asked, head nodding down to your hand laid down in your lap. "I broke it while playing," you said, fingers subconsciously flexing in the cast. "How long 'till you can play again?" You sighed, hand subconsciously rubbing over the cast as it always did when you were deep in thought. "Twelve weeks. Give or take." Patrick only hummed, taking a moment to take you in in your entirety.

You looked good – as you always did – but tired, eyes slightly puffy and laced with red, with a soft frown on your pretty face. He almost felt bad for what he was about to do.

He shuffled a little closer, making sure he was right by your ear when he asked, "Does this put your little game on hold now?"

You looked over at him, kissing your teeth when you saw the stupid smirk on his face. "Go fuck yourself," you said softly, grateful the few chairs next to you were open so that no one could hear your outburst. He laughed, hand rubbing over his cheeks and mouth. "You're always so hot and cold," he started. "I'm still not sure if you even like me."

"But you know what I do know?" he asked.

"What," you said, a command for him to continue rather than a question. "I know that you're a bitch," he started, "and that you get off on using people." You scoffed but the smile on your face betrayed you, eyebrows raising at his words. "That's not true," you said, refocusing your attention on Art, but it didn't deter Patrick. Not much could when he had his mind set on something.

"Then what are you doing?" he asked, saying your name like it was bitter in his mouth. You pursed your mouth, dead set on ignoring as you watched Art. "What are you getting out of him now?" he asked again obviously not ready to let the subject go.

"Let me ask you this, Patrick," you looked over at him again. "Are you mad that you 'lost' me or that you feel like you might lose Art?" He groaned, head tipping over the backrest of the chair as he rubbed his face in frustration, and you smiled. "I won't steal your boyfriend, Patrick," you said with a shrug, "I know you need him just as much as you think I do."

"You never answered my question from that night," he said way off topic, "you never chose." You looked at him, green-blue eyes focused on you with an angry expression, so close to you it probably looked odd to anyone watching you. You didn't answer him, turning back to the court as you folded your arms. Patrick followed suit, dropping the subject as his leg bounced in irritation.

✿ ⊹ ˚. part eleven

[embrosegraves]

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣

(request) Fernando Alonso x Fem!Reader Starting a committed relationship means telling all of your deepest secrets

Warnings: Mentions of negative mental health, mentions of abu$e, mentions of su!cide, talks of selfh4rm. I am begging you, don't read this if the topics discussed may trigger you

Note: I've never gone through anything like this myself so, with permission, I have based a little bit of the story on a very close friend of mine. It's not exact obviously, but there are elements of a real experience.

You hadn’t been dating Fernando for very long. Just barely 3 months. It still felt like a very new relationship, even if people said otherwise. It had been enough time to realise that you might genuinely love him. He never pressured you, he never made you feel less than, and he always made sure to tell you that you were enough. Sure it was the bare minimum, but it was always nice to know people could be like that. 

However, the fact was that you were scared to love him fully. You had almost sworn off dating completely because of your last partner. Your ex had made you feel so unworthy of everything. He had almost convinced you that he was the only person who would ever love you. Almost. Thankfully you had an amazing support system in your friends and most of your family. They had helped you get out of a horrible situation and they were with you the entire time, helping you recover from the trauma you had experienced. 

When Fernando had told you he was serious about dating you, you had said to him that it would be a long while before you went further than kissing and holding hands. Like a true gentleman, Fernando had told you that he completely understood that some things would take time, but he was willing to wait for however long it took for you to be comfortable. Which is why today was so important for you. 

“I’m nervous to show him, Y/f/n. What if he runs off after seeing it?” You had called your best friend, who was basically like your sister, trying to get rid of the rest of your nerves and anxiety. 

“Babe, I’ve seen how he treats and looks at you. He won’t run off and you’ll be okay.” She said, “You’re so brave and incredibly beautiful and he will see that regardless of your skin and scars. I promise if he hasn’t said ‘I love you’ before, he definitely will after this.” 

You scoffed. “Thank you but I doubt it. Once he sees he’s going to run for the hills.” 

“Who’s running for the hills?” 

You jerked your head around and saw Fernando walking through the door. You quickly said goodbye to your friend who wished you luck, and hung up the phone. You turned your body so that you were fully facing Fernando. Thankfully he could understand that this was going to be a serious conversation, so he gingerly sat next to you and took a hold of your hands. 

“I need to tell you something important.” You said, keeping your eyes firmly on the space of blanket between you. His thumbs started rubbing circles over your knuckles, bringing you some comfort. 

“I don’t need to know if you’re not ready to tell me.” He said softly. 

“No. You need to know this.” You took a deep breath before you launched into your explanation. It was now or never. 

“When I was in my early 20s, I was dating this guy. He was my first serious relationship that I’d ever had and for a time I thought he was going to be my future. I didn’t realise it at the time but he was very isolating, and controlling. There were times where he would scare me and laugh when I’d cry. He wouldn’t always, but he would often tell me that he was the only person who could ever love me, and for a time I believed him.” You didn’t want to count the amount of times your voice had already cracked. 

“It really took a toll on me. So much that in the last few months of that relationship, I started to hurt myself. Because part of me thought he was right. When he found out what I was doing, he started to- He started-” 

Fernando wiped a tear from your face. When had you started crying? 

Taking in another big breath, you continued. “He started to hurt me as well. He would press on them while they were fresh and he would bruise me to see the colours. If my brother hadn’t walked in, I probably would’ve taken my life.” You finally looked at Fernando’s face and saw that he had begun crying too. Lifting one of your hands you wiped his gathering tears. 

“I decided that if our relationship is going to go further, then you need to see what I did to myself.” 

You slowly stood up, taking your hands from his, and began to shimmy your trousers down until they were pooled at your feet. You kept undressing before you could chicken out. You took your cardigan off and your shirt followed soon after. Standing there, in front of Fernando in just your undergarments, your scars were on full display. The scars on your thighs and stomach had been healed over for many years now but they still looked just as angry as the day they appeared. You had to force your arms to stay at your sides instead of curling around your stomach like they wanted to. You tried your best not to flinch when Fernando brought his hands up to gently trace them with his fingers.

Fernando looked up at you from where he was still sitting. He looked at every inch of your face and he saw just how broken you were. His heart hurt just thinking about all the abuse you were put through. He took hold of your hands again and slowly dragged you closer to him, giving you plenty of time to back away if you wanted to. 

When you stood directly in front of him, he wrapped his arms gently around the back of your thighs and laid his head to rest on your stomach. Your hands were on his shoulders. 

“You don’t know how incredibly strong you are, Mi Vida. You are so, so strong and I’m so lucky to be with you now.” 

By now the both of you had tears streaming down your faces. Neither of you bothered enough to wipe them off. You were terrified of how your relationship was going to continue, if it was continuing at all. 

You felt Fernando leave soft kisses just over your scars, as if he was afraid to hurt you by pressing more firmly. Quiet sobs broke their way past your lips. Your grip on his shoulders tightened just a bit. 

“Please don’t leave.” You whispered, voice heavy with emotion. Fernando loosened his grip and stood up to cup your face in his hands. You brought your own hands to rest on his wrists as he held you. 

“There is not a single thing about you that would make me leave.” His thumb brushed a stray tear away. “I love you more than I can say.” 

Hearing his words, you closed your eyes and began sobbing harder. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist as you buried your head into his chest. Fernando hugged you close to him and gently caressed the back of your head. 

“Thank you for being brave enough to tell me.”

I hope you enjoyed reading this! I tried my best to write this in a way that was both a little detailed but also very vague so let me know how I did!

as always, likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[stitchedcosmos]

Abt the Orcatstra stuff

TLDR: I've looked through their posts as well as others and I can't find any proof they did anything wrong. Orca making NSFW art, saying they don't like a ship and blocking people who like that ship is completely normal and you shouldn't take it personally.

Long ver:

People in the DSAF fandom (mainly Tumblr) are freaking out about a take Orcatstra made on shipping Jack with Harry, Jake and/or Rodger, allegedly harassing people who ship them, one case being running a 14/15-year-old off the website and making NSFW art, mainly gore.

About the ship: I think Orcatstra's take is completely understandable. "Oh but the phone can leave" and "Oh but he treats them well in the Good ending" doesn't matter. At the end of the day, whether he treats them well or not is completely irrelevant. Jack can choose at any time whether they live or die. When he fires them, they get murdered. He has power over them and that is a power imbalance that a lot of people are going to be uncomfortable with. In cases like Dave, Matt, Steven or Henry, if things don't go well between the two, they have the ability to leave with no fear of something bad happening to them. The phones on the other hand, could get fired (die) if they're not on Jack's good side with just a simple phone call. Even if they left, they literally mention Afton Robotics hunting down escaped phone guys and a simple phone call telling AR one's gone rouge is all it takes. Doing this after getting pissed off by them or whatever, is completely in character for Jack to do (especially legacy). People bring up that Jack treats them well in the good ending but how about all the other routes? Especially in the Legacy routes, Jack treats them like shit and actively uses this power imbalance against them on multiple occasions. People bring up Davesport as a retort to this, bringing up how utterly devoted Dave can be, but Dave when treated like this usually fights back or distances himself away from him, neither is something the phones can do without fear of getting killed. At the end of the day, it all comes down to how you headcanon Jack to act, but the power imbalance is definitely enough to put a lot of people off. Also, as a POC myself, I don't think them saying it felt like "Owner x Slave" to them, was racist.

About the blocking: Blocking people is something people are allowed to do for whatever reason they like. If someone posts content you don't like, the normal response most people have is to block them. Whether you feel the block is "deserved" or not, doesn't matter. Hell, sometimes I block people over a single post or comment they make because I simply disagree with it so much. Blocking people is completely okay under literally any circumstance.

About harassment: I have found no proof of this. Seriously. I've looked through multiple people's accounts, including Orca's and have found nothing. I'm even seeing people ask for proof and being told the person has none. the dsaf confessions account keeps getting brought up as proof of someone who got harassed but looking at both their posts and Orca's, from what I've seen, no harassment happened. From what I can tell, all of this is a complete misunderstanding where Orca talking about not liking the account got interpreted as Orca bullying them. If they don't like them and want to post about not liking them, they have the right to do that.

Edit: Just remembered this so I’ll quickly add it now, people are shouting at orca 4 “harassing a minor” but they’re a minor themselves.

About NSFW: They're allowed to draw it. DSAF is an NSFW series and therefore has A LOT of NSFW topics, subjects, scenes and characters in it. If someone wants to draw that, they have the right to. If you don't like it, block them. Some people are saying they should tag their gore art and while I personally agree with that, if they don't want to, they have every right not to. It's their blog and if you don't like it, just block them and move on. "But what if a child sees it" on Tumblr, you can only see what you search up or are personally interested in, a child shouldn't be looking at DSAF-related content in the first place because, again, it is an NSFW series.

Overall, my thoughts on the matter are... *drum roll*

It's not that serious and the block button is free. If you don't like someone, what they're doing, what they're posting, block them. It's that simple and getting blocked doesn't mean anything. This situation, as well as others like it, are making me fear that most of you aren't old enough to even know what DSAF is, let alone be in the fandom.

[teewritessmth]

Arranged Marriage

(Part 01 / ?)

(Niko Omilana x f! reader)

Warnings : None

Summary : In order to be the grateful daughter, you have to comply with your father's request. But what is it?

"WHAT!?!!?", you stand up abruptly, question whether you had misheard the sentence.

"Y/n, you're gonna listen to your father, we're not going to argue over something as trivial as this". Your stepmum, Ryona, interjects rudely as she pulls a chair and sits down.

"TRIVIAL?", you exclaim.

Why did she care, you ask? Nope, I don't know either.

"Dad, why are you doing this? I mean give me a proper reason at least. You can't spring up a topic this serious and tell me to go with it." You try pleading with your dad, but he remains unfazed at your outburst.

"We've always wanted the best for you y/n. I've given you everything you wanted, done everything you asked me to. And when I tell you to say yes... You question me as your father?"

Your eyes drop to the floor. It was true. Your father was an amazing man and an even better parent. A sense of shame crawls through your spine as you realise just how much you owe him. He had done so much for you, yet you couldn't agree to one thing he had asked?

"Dad please, this is so stupid. I don't want to be married right now. I just started my career-", you reason.

"Making little videos isn't a fucking career, Y/n. Maybe you're pulling a few hundred dollars here and there, but that doesn't mean that this is a stable job. Do you even know how embarrassing it is to tell people that our daughter makes 'videos' on the internet. I mean even the phrasing of it is absolutely hysterical and shameful!" Ryona finishes her comment with a quick glance at her husband, motioning for him to speak.

"Y/n, please... ", Your dad looks at you with hopeful eyes. What you failed to notice was how that man's eyes filled up with tears as you sighed and started walking towards your room.

.

.

.

The following week was uncomfortable. Whenever you came down for breakfast, they'd stop talking. They'd drop whatever the hell the were doing and wander off somewhere else. I mean, you were used to Ryona pulling shit like this all the damn time, but not your dad.

He avoided you like the plague. This had gone to such an extent that the old man couldn't bear to be in the same room with you, avoiding your eyes everytime you tried to speak.

Perhaps it was how they treated you, or perhaps how that bizarre idea had implanted itself into your head. You weren't interested in anyone, and god forbid to say that you didn't have any personal goals to hit. You'd love to have a family, you'd love to have someone at home, just for the sake of it. You'd build the family you could never get as a child.

But how?

The were talking about marrying you off.

Or that's how you heard it.

Yeah, Definitely marrying you off.

But how does an option like that sound so much better than living in this hell hole.

Fucking hell.

It's been one month, that your dad and your stepmum have completely iced you out.

.

.

.

"I'll do it". You state, matter of factly, raising an eyebrow as your 'parents' turn towards you. They weren't gullible, they knew what you wanted to say.

"Y-you'll marry him? You'll marry Nikolas!", Your dad pulls you into a bone-crushing hug which you don't return. How could he be so happy at the thought of his wife sending their child away to a man they don't even know.

Well, they know him. You don't.

He's the son of your dad's bestfriend. Of course the know each other to an extent.

Whatever.

You had dug your own grave, might as well get it over with.

"But, I can't just say that I'll get married to him? He has to agree in order-".

"The boy has agreed a month ago. It was YOU who kept stalling the wedding. How long were you planning on doing this? Don't you see that we have an image to maintain? Now stop your wailing and mentally prepare yourself. You'll both get married in a week's time. I'm calling the Omilanas and confirming". Ryona makes herself very clear, making it painfully obvious that they were going to get you married forcefully if you didn't agree otherwise. Or else how could they manage a whole venue within such an acute time frame?

You nod weakly and head back upstairs, feeling defeated. Your future was written already, your yes meant NOTHING.

.

.

.

You've heard of him. He's big on YouTube, people in his comments often ask him to collab with you. You'd be lying if you said your comments said otherwise.

Oh how'd the internet would have an absolute field trip if they found out that their two favorite creators were about to me married.

Well....married for the sake of marrying.

Married for the sake of a title.

Married for the sake of your father.

You look at the dress and accessories you had picked out and sigh into your hands. It was happening.

Your wedding..........was tomorrow.

[a-aexotic]

hi ren, biggg congratulation and the eras tour celebration is such a cool concept 🥳

🌙 please for Rafe and Paris!

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings. literally nothing except fluff, and illusions to smut?

summary. rafe is in love with utterly and fully in love with y/n

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

Everything about You and Rafe had been unpredicted, no one in a million years that Rafe "Druggie" Cameron could pull someone like you. You guys getting together was definitely not on anyone's list of things that were going to happen that year, but it did.

And honestly neither of you couldn't care less. You and Rafe were completely and utterly in love with each other and nothing could get in the way.

Rumors, people, family, circumstances. None of that mattered in the case of you two. Especially Rafe. After everything with his sister, always being a second choice, when he finally was someone's first choice, someone's favorite person, none of that mattered. He was his absolute happiest when he was with you.

I'M SO IN LOVE THAT I MIGHT STOP BREATHING.

You and Rafe had been together for a year now and Rafe had done a complete 360 from where he was at before he met you. Last year, he was at the lowest of his life; completely high all the time, partying every night, new girl every week. Now, he was sober and with the love of his life.

It had been a year now and neither of you have had the urge to say the scariest three words in a relationship, especially a relatively new one.

Rafe had realized he loved you two weeks into dating you but of course he hadn't said it, he didn't want to scare you off. He was already crazy enough, imagine if he just told you he loved you two weeks into dating?

Rafe had just something so out of pocket that you let out a loud laughing, making Rafe stop and think for second before joining in your laughter. It was so bad that you genuinely had stopped breathing, hanging on to the counter to stop from falling over. Your eyes were tearing up and Rafe's stomach had begun to hurt.

"Oh my gosh, I love you." You accidentally blurted once you stopped laughing. You and Rafe both instantly jumped up, both staring at each other. Your heart jumped and you didn't know how Rafe was going to react, his face unreadable.

"Wait, what?"

You couldn't back out now. "I-I love you"

Rafe felt like he was going to pass out with excitement. "I love you too, Y/N."

ROMANCE IS NOT DEAD, IF YOU KEEP IT JUST YOURS.

If Rafe had a dime for every time someone had made a rumor about the two of you, he would be richer than his dad and that's saying something. You guys were OBX's favorite topic to gossip about.

Instead of getting offended, you and Rafe had made it into a fun game anytime Sarah had told you something you heard. You guys call it "Would this happen in an alternate universe?"

The game kind of says it all. You and Rafe would see how realistic the rumor was. It became such a fun game for you two that you guys started making up your own rumors as well.

You sat in the passenger seat of the car, listening to Rafe tell you the next rumor. "Y/N left Rafe... for Ward."

You gasped and then let out a giggle, "Ward?"

"Yup."

"That is the most outlandish shit I've ever heard, oh my gosh." You replied making Rafe hum in response, "Never. I would never leave you for Ward, my gosh. How do people come up with these?"

"Never?"

You felt Rafe's gaze on you as you furrowed your eyebrows, "Yes, Rafe. I would never leave you for Ward."

"What about JJ?"

"Maybe..."

Rafe scoffed as you let out another one of your exceptionally loud laughs.

NO, I DIDN'T SEE THE NEWS, CAUSE WE WERE SOMEWHERE ELSE.

For your third year anniversary, Rafe had taken you to a Hawaii Cruise. This was the first time both of you had gone on a trip by yourselves so it was way more fun for the both of you. You guys didn't have to sneak around anywhere, having a lot more alone time then before.

Rafe had gotten a buzzcut a few months ago and you've grown to absolutely adore it. At first, when you got the spontaneous text from Rafe telling you he was buzzing all his hair off, you were going to cry. But once you saw it, you fell in love all over again. It gave him a mature sugar daddy look and you loved it.

One of the reasons why you dreaded him buzzing his hair is that you wouldn't be able to run your finger through his hair but now that it's semi grown, you could kind of do that again.

You and Rafe laid on the pool chair, Rafe laying next to you with his head on your chest as you twisted his semi grown out buzzcut. You guys both watched the dark sky in comforting silence, enjoying each other's company.

You heard Rafe sigh. "I'm so grateful I met you, Y/N."

"Me too, Rafe. Me too."

"No, I mean like... like I seriously can't imagine my life without you in it." Rafe looked up to meet your eyes and you felt like you were going to cry of happiness. "You feel like home, baby. You always have."

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Rafe. I'd be lost without you."

And suddenly everything to Rafe made sense. There was no more confusion on where he was going, what he was doing with his life because it was all clear to him in that moment. It was all you. As long as he was spending his life with you, he was happy.

"Let's get married."

[etirabys]

on jogging

I took up jogging 2.5 months ago. I'm going off the c25k schedule, which slowly ramps you up from couch potato fitness to being able to run a 5k. This was much more effective than just trying to get into jogging by mimicking other, fitter, joggers, which was what I did every previous time I briefly tried to get into jogging. I feel embarrassed for never having thought of this before – it's clear that 'my brain was off' in those times when I went mimicry-running.

One issue that made me get into jogging so ineffectively: I didn't realize how terrible my starting physical fitness was. I used to think I was… like… normal? No athlete, for sure, but I'm a "normal amount of miserable" on hikes (and can complete most of them), I'm an intermediate boulderer, I rarely notice activities I'm gated from because of fitness. But when I started c25k with three partners, none of whom regularly jogged, they were all significantly less winded than I was.

And for the first dang time in my life I explicitly had a thought that went, "I can run 1 minute before my body forces me to stop. My partners can run 3-4 minutes. Some people can run 30 minutes."

Once I actually had any sense of "jogging levels" it was so clear how close to the bottom I was when I started out. That gives me some hope that being much fitter will solve my fatigue problems?

I used to be able to run 1 minute, and now I can run 2. By one (terrible but also kind of reasonable?) metric, I'm twice as fit as I used to be. But a nontrivial fraction of the population can jog 30 consecutive minutes! It seems worth getting to that point to see what that does to my energy levels / cognition.

–

Also: I haven't been sticking to the c25k schedule. I go 1.5 times a week where it expects 3, and I stuck a level between week 2 and week 3 because the 1.5m->3m jump looked insane to me. I've been on that custom level 2.5 for a month. I had a mindblowing conversation with the giant and 81k yesterday where I went, yeah, I've been stuck at week 2.5 because I've felt unready for week 3. And they said, that's probably because you're not going enough.

What do you mean? I asked. I've run about a full session and a half session every week for four weeks. Isn't that the same as 3 full sessions every week for two weeks?

No, they said, surprised I didn't know this. There's an optimal timing. If you'd probably stuck literally to the c25k schedule you probably could have gone from level 2 to 3 in a week.

GYARJRGH? I said. FUSBARIJIJJLK?

(I still disbelieve the literal claim that I can go to level 3 after doing level 2 properly, but I believe them that I would be leveling up a lot faster if I stuck to the schedule)

–

Anyway, some things I'd like to say to my past self, who felt obligated to work out for fatigue issues and then proceeded to exercise very badly because there was such a big ugh field around the topic of exercise:

You do not realize how big the gap between you and even moderately athletic people is. This is good, actually. It means that the correct place to start is easier than you think.

You should try to do it like 3 times a week. Date a jock. There are some on tumblr

Consider starting this when you have positive pressure rather than negative pressure. When you're buckling under multiple joy-sparking projects and want to rise to the challenge, it will be much easier to start & stick to it than when you're an anhedonic lump who has nothing to look forward to, but knows that exercise will in theory make life better in some vague way.

[lady-of-tearshed]

A Court of Sins and Nightmares

Chapter one

(Chapters index here)

Next Chapter

Eris Vanserra x OC! Alessia Mors

A/N: Hii omg. I was so excited to make this happen outside of my brain. I've literally been dreaming of this series for a while. And I feel quite good about how this first chapter turned out. A huge thanks to @sarawritestories and @milswrites for the feedback and support !💕 😊

Summary: Alessia Mors is expected to marry Eris Vanserra to concretize his alliance with the Night Court.

Word count: 1,205k

Warnings: Some harsh language, I think. Nothing more for now...

“Either you accept this engagement, or I’ll send you to the Bog of Oorid to meet your sweet mother!” Thanatos roared in anger from the other side of the door.

“I’ll gratefully accept, then! That already sounds like a much sweeter proposition than marrying the devil!” 

Alessia was certainly not going to let her grip off that door. Nor would the mass of fog. Or so she thought.

As soon as Keir’s voice boomed, the murk quickly hid under her bed.

With the resistance of her powers gone, Thanatos easily yanked the door open, sending Alessia flying to the ground. “Can’t even handle your own daughter now, Thanatos?” 

Thanatos was quick to tackle Alessia to the ground. She tried to wiggle and squirm under her father’s grip as he restrained her hands and ankles with heavy golden chackles. Keir was staring at the scene happening right before him, lazily leaning against my door frame. Alessia was most certainly looking like some hissing cat right now, all claws and teeth out.  “Let’s just hope Eris can discipline her, Keir. Maybe she'll be easier to tame than your daughter.”

Gross. Utterly and completely gross, Alessia turned her head to Thanatos and grimaced. She may not hold snobby Morrigan in her heart, but Eris nailing Morrigan's womb to "discipline her" was wrong.

Alessia couldn’t figure out which of the four males I hated more at the moment… Keir for his mistake to force Morrigan into marrying Eris, Thanatos for repeating the same mistakes with her, Beron for raising shitty and cruel sons, or Eris for his lack of balls to confront his father? 

Before she could even mentally elaborate on this theory, Keir lifted her chin and forced her mouth open. He brought a tiny vial to her lips, and emptied a silver liquid in her mouth. He pinched her nose and pressed his hand over her lips, forcing her to swallow. “There, this should at least sweeten her up for the duration of that quick business talk with Eris.” Keir taunted, a shit-eating grin rising on one side of his lips. 

Alessia instantly recognize what she had been forced to swallow. It was a potion made of lavender essence, peppermint, and a tiny drop of faebane extract. Its purpose was to help calming people suffering from severe anxiety disorders. Such as soldiers suffering from PTSD or panic disorder, for example. “Did you just use my own potions against me?!” She wanted to yell at the realization.

How dared he?! She wanted to spit on his perfectly polished shoes, to bite his toes off… But the faebane contained in this concoction quickly dulled her, making her feel like she was moving, talking and breathing very slowly. She was... weirdly calm.

Drugged.

As much as faebane was harmful to Faes when used topically, it was completely harmless if ingested in small quantities.

“Make sure she’s ready in not more than twenty minutes, and take the restraints off her wrists. Wouldn’t want Eris to notice them until he agrees to wed her so we can concretize this alliance. Keep the ones on her ankles though, make sure they’re unnoticeable under her dress. Wouldn’t want your nasty gremlin to run away, not that she would be able to… with this ingenious concoction…” Keir smiled devilishly and crushed the vial under his feet before walking away from his spot.

Alessia frowned. She would've reused that vial... those were quite expensive.

Thanatos untied Alessia's wrists and sat her down on the chair in front of the vanity. Domestic rushed inside the room on cue to get Alessia ready.

Before leaving my

Thanatos walked to the door, about to leave the room too. He halted before he could step iut of the room, turning his head to look over his daughter. He sighed, “Just… behave. For once.”

Alessia wanted to be mad, to scream, to fight, to snap, but the potion affected her too much to react. Thanatos left the room before she could say anything.

The domestics started to brush her long hair, fighting to put her wild curls in a neat bun. It didn't take long for them to ready Alessia. She had been dressed, powdered and her hair was done in barely fifteen minutes.

Before she got dragged out of the room by them, she took the opportunity to slide a dagger into the hidden sheath wrapped around her thigh when they turned their attention away from her to rummage through her jewelery box, busying to find the best necklace to fit her gown.

When they finally turned around, and wrapped the silver necklace around Alessia's neck, she couldn't help a snicker to erupt from her mouth.

One of her domestic rose a suspicious brow and politely asked “Is something wrong, miss?”

“No… No. It’s nothing, I’m just a bit tired.” Alessia quickly answered, covering up her lie.

It was, in fact, not ‘nothing’ at all. On the contrary… things were about to get quite… interesting. The potion Keir had stolen from jer had been brewed to help a little girl who was suffering from severe PTSD since witnessing her parents' horrible death at such a young age. A little girl weighing not more than forty-four pounds… Which was almost four times less than Alessia's weight...

The dosage was greatly insuficient for herself, and the effect would quickly wear off. She was certainly going to use this information to her advantage... later.

Alessia was quickly escorted to the giant dining room. The sound of the chains wrapped around her ankles was muffled by the carpet flooring. Alessia took the seat across from the red-headed Devil, Eris Vanserra. His hands were crossed over his head, his shirt lifted up slightly, exposing his hip bone. Alessia couldn’t help but stare at where his shirt was lifted for a while longer and grinned. The sound of her chair moving as she sat down was what made her presence noticed, and the three pairs of eyes flipped in her direction.

Alessia's eyes locked on Eris amber eyes. She tried to stay grounded, but she would be lying to herself if she said that the Devil, as bad as he was, was damned handsome.

If she could've been given the chance to take a bite, she would have. Probably.

A/N (again 🤭): I really really hope you liked it! And what's going to come next... Woooo! They're not going to have it easy!! 😉💕

Taglist: @milswrites @sarawritestories

[studentbyday]

week 3: let's get this bread! (famous last words...)

Omg I can't believe it's only week 3, sm has happened, I swear more time has gone by than actually has 😅😮‍💨🙃 Starting this week feeling a little discouraged because I still have a backlog of schoolwork to catch up on, but let's see if I can get my hopes up again by the end of this week! 🙏🏻🤞🏻If I want to achieve my goals, I need to drastically reduce my screen time. Here's to only using my phone for essential communications and for music, guided meditations, and pilates/yoga videos this week! 😤

mid-week update: this week has been a f*cking mess. mentally, emotionally, physically, existentially. i have not touched the db course so far which was my main goal for this week...every week i'm trying to add something new. i had my reservations about keeping on my original plan for this week, knowing i ended the last one still behind on school, but i went ahead with it, wondering, hoping if it was at all possible. well. we'll see where i'm at by the end of this week. at the very least i'll be closer to caught up.

end-of-week update: posting this early so i don't have to on sunday. i'm making progress but it's still slower than expected. insomnia is a problem. my nerves feel pretty frayed. must find ways to decrease the stimulation. time to reinstate the no-phone mornings (probs should add to my “bingo”) and a social media detox... not sure if i'll have time to post again next week. i find it hard to keep up. i'll probably come back if/when i get things under control...so bye for now (and i sincerely hope your semester is going better than mine 💗) 👋🏻

Academics:

Check and send pathology assignment!!!! ✅

Confirm immunology discussion due date!! ✅

Watch documentary on Wangari Maathai ✅ (glad i did this first thing on monday after sending the path assignment because it was really inspiring and lifted my spirits enough to keep going 💗)

Meet for pathology assignment ✅ (2 members in my group are like...really high-energy and gung-ho. i'm glad cuz that means it's a lighter load for me but woah was that overwhelming at first 😅 and the thing is...these guys aren't the first i've encountered like this. and i'm low-key jealous of them... they're the kind of people who give off the aura of “i'm capable of doing it all” because they're that driven...and based on what i've seen of them, i don't think they're faking it.)

Read all assignment descriptions for global health before you... ✅

Email chosen essay topic to TA by Thursday ✅

Finish M1 pathology by Wednesday ✅

Complete pathology M1 case questions

Finish half of M2 pathology by Sunday

Start pathology M2 case questions

Finish half of M2 global health by Friday ✅

Finish half of M3 immunology by Sunday

Finish M2 microbiology ~ (made some progress but not finished)

Start M3 microbiology

Participate in global health meeting ✅ (wasn't bad but also...not sure when this happened but i've gotten quite nervous speaking up in class and then in my overstimulation, forget some of what i had intended to say, ughhh just gotta keep practicing...)

Complete immunology discussion ✅

Send other pathology assignment ✅

Complete global health discussion ✅

Health:

Meditate x1

Journal x3

Yoga x2

Cardio x1

Pilates x1 (the first time i made it through a 30 min class in one sitting whooooo!!!!!)

Other life things:

Change bedding

Laundry

Music in My Head:

andante spianato et grande polonaise brillante

study music // 1 // 2 // 3

a strange playlist for strange people

piano trio no. 4 in e minor, op. 90, b. 166, “dumky”: i. lento maestoso / ii. poco adagio

pavane op. 50

Things I'm looking forward to:

end of the semester

the height of autumn

christmas

My not-bingo bingo (thinking I'll recycle this every month lol):

[ifearimaybeanamericanidiot]

Hidden Horns, a Devil Off The Ice

Hockey!Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Your job is to write news reports on hockey games. Recently, you've been only given the stories revolving around one certain player, Chris Sturniolo. You just write what you see. It's not your fault he's pressed about it. Did you mention that you write under a pen name and his brothers begged you into going on a date with him? How did life get to complicated?

TW: "hate"/angry sex, SMUT, language

I burst into the editors' office. "Alright, dude, what the hell?! You can't keep giving me Sturniolo game stories! This is all I've gotten for almost two months!" I shout at my boss. Jim turn around in his office chair.

"I keep giving you those stories because it gets our numbers higher than ever. It's my job to do what I think is best for the paper. That's what I'm doing. You're going to keep writing about him, and you're going to keep it tension-filled!" Jim shouts right back. He stands up and shoos me out of the office. "Now, get to that game tonight!" I can not believe this man.

I never wanted to be a journalism writer. Creative writing has always been my forte, but here I am, writing for a major sporting news company. I also never thought I'd meet one of my best friends in a bar downtown after a job. Or that he'd be brothers with the man I'm being forced to write about.

I pick up my phone as I exit the office. "Hey Nick! What's up?"

"Chris is wanting me and Matt to go to the game tonight. You down?" Shit. Nick and Matt know that I work in journalism, but not about their brother. I've managed to get lucky the last few times. This is the first game they'll have gone to in a few months. The first game since I've been writing about Chris specifically. At first, it was just the team. Chris is such a star player though. The articles eventually just dissolved into being solely about him.

I've been told I sort of have a problem with separating my feelings with what I write. Meaning, I don't separate them. I started letting my frustration about being stuck with one topic out in the form of, well, of bashing Chris in my articles. But, I also tend to describe him in almost too much detail. Jim says that sex sells and therefore, I have to keep writing about him. Apparently, the audience seems to think that I'm fucking Chris behind the scenes.

"Oh?" I try to keep my cool with Nick.

"Would you mind coming with? We can get you a ticket-" I have to bite the bullet.

"Oh, I have a ticket actually! A gift from work." I look up at the sky. The color brings up an image of Chris's eyes. I drop my gaze. "Hey, how about I head your way? My editor sent me home for the day."

"Oh- yeah sure! I'm just chilling at home for now!"

"Okay babes. I'll be there in a bit." He tells me bye, and I hang up. I'm going to have to tell him about this, aren't I? I have to sit in the news section. Shit. I shake my head and walk to my car.

Traffic is god awful, but I get to Nick's unscathed. I get to his door, feeling around at the top for his spare key, and let myself in. "Honey! I'm home!" I yell out.

"I'm in the kitchen!" Nick calls back. I head that way.

"Hey." I hop up onto his counter. Matt pops his head into the room. "Oh, hey Matt! I didn't know you were here!" I say, a little surprised.

"Hey!" He smiles and waves, and takes a seat next to Nick.

"So, Nick- funny thing here. The ticket I have is in the news section of seats. I have to sit there." I give him my most award winning smile, hoping he won't put two and two together before I can explain.

"Oh?" He and Matt say in unison.

"Look, I haven't been completely honest. I need to come clean." I put my elbows on my thighs, resting my head in my hands.

"Hey, whatever it is, we won't be mad." Matt says comfortingly.

"You guys have seen the clips of Chris raging on and on about those articles about him, right?"

"Seen them? We have lived them." Nick rolls his eyes.

"I wrote them." I blurt it out. Now, it's out in the open and I can't take it back. Nick and Matt are both silent.

"So, I'm guessing you wouldn't go on a date with him?" Nick says, putting his hands in his lap.

"What." I demand.

"We think you should go on a date with Chris." Matt says.

"What? Why?" I ask, squinting at them.

"You're literally Chris's type." Matt says.

"And, he's been really focused on those articles. We thought it'd might do you both some good to just have fun with someone new." Nick adds. "Why do think he's always posed in the background of pictures I send you?" I snort at that.

"But, I'm the one writing the articles." I point out. "How would I help?"

"First, he doesn't know that it's you writing them. We sure as hell aren't going to tell him. And second, I think he's so pumped up about the articles because you say truer things than any girl he's ever been with." Nick says slowly.

"Honestly, I'm more scared for your ability to walk if he found out you wrote the articles." Matt says offhandedly.

"What?" I shout, jumping off the counter.

"Yeah, our version of the clips of his issues with the articles, is Chris shouting about how he'd like to bend whoever it is over a counter and show them 'who's head is smoking trying to think then.'" Matt shivers as he repeats what I assume are Chris's words. Of course, I recognize the words. They're my words. In one article, I responded to a clip of him being asked about a previous article. He didn't have anything to say, so I wrote 'I smell smoke. Thinking of a chirp, bud?' It's not my proudest moment.

"Ooooooo-" Nick claps his hands together. "Prank opportunity!" He stands up. "You can go to the game, write down your little notes, and go on a date with Chris before you publish the next article. You can make a more personal cut at him. Really wind him up, and then let him start to figure it out that it's you."

"That's a horrible idea." Matt says from his seat.

"I don't even like Chris." I point out.

"Bitch, that's a lie. Come on, please! It'll be so fun to see him get wound up. I never got him back for having a bird painted on my bathroom wall in the middle of the night." Maybe it's because I'm such a good friend, but I agree.

That was roughly three months ago. This "prank" of Nick's has been going on for like three months. I think Chris is finally starting to catch on though. Which sucks. I've actually started to enjoy being with him. We go on dates, and he's so sweet to me. I feel so bad every time I have to write an article. That's what I'm doing now. My computer is open on a fully finished and published article. I can't believe I wrote that Chris should be a Zamboni driver.

My apartment door swings open. There are heavy stomps coming down the hallway, towards the room I'm residing in. The door swings open, revealing Chris, still in his jersey, though he lacked any padding. It hug down a little amount, just enough for me to catch a glimpse of his collar bones. God, I love those. Don't get me started about his shoulders. Fuck.

"Hey, dollface." Chris greets me, his voice rough.

"Hey Chris. I'm sorry I couldn't stay for the whole game." He sets his bag down on my bedroom floor.

"It's okay ma, it seems like you got enough to write about before half time." I freeze. My entire body freezes. All I feel is panic. He looks at me, half turned around. "What? Did you think I wouldn't put two and two together?" I can't say anything.

He moves onto to the bed, pulling me flat onto my back, pushing his body over mine. "Really, ma. Did you think I wouldn't notice your pretty little speech patterns? You use literally, like, six times a day. I know you. I'm not stupid."

"I...I'm sorry, Chris." My voice trembles. "My boss won't stop giving me assignments about you." He stops.

"Sweetheart, we're okay." He reassures me. "I'm going to make sure you're real sorry though. Is that okay?" He runs his hand along my thigh. Oh. I nod. "Words, princess."

"Yes. Yes, that's okay." He grins, looking up at me from his position near my waist. God, he looks like a fucking angel. A sexy ass angel, a fucking demon.

"No more nice guy, for now." He pulls his jersey off with one arm. I can't help but let out a groan.

"You're so fucking pretty." I run my hands across his chest and shoulders, moving my hands to his neck. I pull him down, into a searing kiss. He fumbles with my blanket, which had pooled around my waist with all the movement. He pulls it back, breaking our kiss.

"No pants?" He slides his hand up to my ass. "No underwear? Dirty girl." My face warms. "You like that? Fucking good." He pulls my shirt off. "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you. Got that?"

"Yes-" I gasp. "Yes sir." He rests his forehead on mine, and lets out the sexiest moan I've ever heard. Abruptly, he gets up and off of me.

"Come here." He offers his hand. I take it without a second thought. He flips me around, bending me over my own bed. My face pressed into the sheets, his dick pressed against me through his pants, his hand over the back of my own. "Stay, just like this for me. Okay?"

His hand leaves me for a moment. When he comes back, his dick is pressed bare to my skin. "Fuck, Chris. I need it." His hand returns to its place on top of my own.

"Say it real nice." He whispers to me.

"Please, fuck me, Chris?" He groans, before lining himself up and sinking into me. The stretch aches so fucking good. "Yes-" His other hand finds my free one, grasping it firmly. He pulls his hips back, before sinks back into me. He goes slowly for a few thrusts.

"Hold on ma." This is the only warning I get before he begins fucking me into oblivion. I lose track of time. It feels like he goes on, molding my insides to his shape, for forever. Before I know it, I'm tightening around him and screaming, grasping the sheets for my life.

"That's right ma. Squeeze my dick so good." He lightly bite my shoulder, only adding to the amount of sensation. "Aw fuck, ma. You feel so fucking good." My orgasm finally finishes out. As the last waves of pleasure are receding, he pulls out, shooting his load between my thighs instead of in me. He rests his head on my back for a moment, breathing hard against my skin.

He pulls away. I can't muster the energy to move even an inch. Shit. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, I don't even know why I'm so fucking emotional.

"Hey baby. M gonna wipe you down." Chris whispers, wiping his cum off my thighs with a warm cloth. "You did so well, ma. Took me so well. I'm so proud of you. I love you." He adds it on at the end, like he wasn't sure he should say it or not. Then, he moves me completely onto the bed before climbing in next to me.

"I love you too." I tuck myself against his chest, resting my head on his shoulder. I lace my hand into his hair. "I love you so much."

"I love you more. Now, let's nap. Fucking you that hard took it out of me." He lays a kiss on my hairline and cuddles in closer. In his arms, I let myself drift off.

@bethsturn here you go!! sorry if it's not great :,)