#it's not angst cause it makes sense

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 1

So figured I could show what else I am working on aside from Salt in the Bones with @clockwayswrites. I still blame Clock for this though, they are way too fun to brainstorm with, and I have too many WIPs already. Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

Danny was sick and tired of this city, this entire dimension in fact. And this vigilante family, or whatever they were, were more dogged in their pursuit of him than the GIW or his parents had ever been - all this for a few gizmos.

Danny rolled his eyes and ducked a kick from the most violent midget since Youngblood.

Seriously he was just trying to build a portal home, and it wasn’t like he was hurting anyone. He’d mostly stolen from villains anyway! And Wayne industries was like a multibillion dollar company, they shouldn’t miss a few scraps or prototypes. It would hardly put a dent in their budget.

Midget was back on his feet and had now drawn a freaking sword. Yeah, this was it, Danny needed to leave before bigger and battier arrived. He faked left but then spun right around the probably actual literal kid with the real sword, jumped to the railing and kicked off towards the next rooftop. Ignoring gravity’s pull for a just a couple of seconds was the only reason he landed safely on the other roof.

He felt a moment of worry that the kid would try following him and glanced back, but the child was fuming in safety on the other side, having lost that grappling gun thing he used earlier in the chase, it seemed Danny was safe for now. The kids mouth was moving, probably talking to more of the heroes.

He wasn’t gonna be safe for long, but Danny allowed himself a moment to breathe in relief. Suddenly his breath stuck coldly in his throat and he froze. Impossible! The shades of this city barely tickled his throat, he hadn’t met anything that would even halfway classify as a ghost to his senses. Urgency was like a cold hand around his throat, a desperate longing hummed in his core as he slowly spun trying to get a sense of where - he only managed to see a blur of red before a heavy weight knocked into him slamming him to the ground. The cold mist in his throat was pushed out in a pained oof, and his head bounced first on one thing then another, but that didn’t matter because his core was singing; close, not alone, hug!

Danny’s head spun, his whole body felt pained and smushed. A man, no a freaking tank, was laying on top of him. Body armor dug into his ribs, probably something there was bent or broken and he felt certain that ominous red helmet had left a mark where it hit his forehead. Also his hair felt a bit wet beneath him. Yet that didn’t matter because he was so overwhelmed, warm with hands and feet tingling from the humming joy in his chest. Hug! His core sang again.

Somewhere in the fog in his head he recognized this was no hug, but he hurt, his head was spinning, and he was not alone and he was happy and wasn’t that more important than a bit of pain? Oo o oO

Jason was unsure what was going on.

He’d managed to tackle the elusive thief Dick had so “creatively” nicknamed the Ghost for his ability to go invisible and the inability for them to land a decent hit on him. In fact if he hadn’t seen footage from previous run-ins with the man, Jason would have thought they wildly exaggerated his skills.

After all the man had frozen up strangely when Jason pulled himself onto the rooftop as he listened only with half an ear to the demon brat angrily grumbling in the comms, that he would have had him had he not been a coward who ran away all the time. Their thief was slowly turning around as if looking for something, the green glass of his goggles reflected in the moonlight and for a moment gave the illusion they were glowing.

Jason had not wasted a moment, got to his feet, crossed the distance in a mere three large steps before he crashed into the man - so, he’d halfway expected the man to move and therefore hadn’t prepared to soften another person’s landing. His helmet hit the shorter man’s forehead and his head rebounded and hit the roof with a sound that made Jason internally wince. The next moment there was a snapping sound and a gasp as the man’s ribcage was caught between the roof and Jason - he really wore no armor, just that thin hoodie. No matter what B said about the danger of the stolen items, Jason was really starting to doubt they had a budding super villain on hand.

He immediately made a move to get up, but stopped, a strange feeling of something overtaking him. It took a moment for him to discern because of the dichotomy, but it was… happiness? What the fuck, it wasn’t his emotions, that made no sense. The pits had only ever sent him rage and in rare moments gruesome satisfaction. This was joy, he felt almost like he was floating caught in a wave at the beach, weightless, happy, warm in the sun. He shook his head pushing the foreign emotions away like he would the pit and focused on his dazed perp.

There was something wet glistening in his unruly black hair.

“Fuck,” Jason muttered, thankfully too low for the helmet to project, but loud enough that he got a breathless but insistent “report” back from Bruce where he was clearly hurrying toward their destination.

“I knocked the Ghost down, he’s bleeding from a head wound,” he muttered at his comms as he pulled the goggles up to get a look his eyes to check for signs of concussion, but immediately froze. The goggles, he’d thought it was a trick of the light earlier, but no, his eyes were glowing - bright and green and just a shade lighter than the Lazarus pits. A shudder ran cold down his back. Somehow the foreign emotions were coming from him, Jason was sure of it, but it explained absolutely nothing! Unrestrained joy? Was this some kind of shock response?

More footsteps landed on the roof and Jason didn’t need to look to know it was Bruce with the Brat along for the ride. He finally remembered he’d been trying to get off the other man at some point.

Oo o oO

No, no, no, Danny’s core protested when the other ghost moved away, and he clutched onto what he could grab, which he dazedly recognized as a very nicely muscled arm. The other arm, because human shaped ghosts have two arms (good job Danny), supported Danny by holding onto one of his arms and that was good. Getting upright gave him the worst moment of vertigo, and his breath whooshed out of him. His legs were like jello and didn’t support him, but that didn’t matter, because his new friend had a good firm grip, could probably even hold him up entirely without Danny clutching his arm, good friend, mine. He butted his head into his chest because that was what he could reach and just leaned there. His core hummed so happily he felt like he’d almost shake apart.

Friend.

Mine

Good friend

…

Why no response?…

Hello? Danny was confused, why wasn’t he getting a response. Also why did his head and chest hurt so bad?

“Tt, what is the matter with him?”

The question, delivered in a haughty voice was like a bucket of ice water on his senses. He gasped and pushed away from where he’d been nuzzling some guy’s chest! Alarmed, he stumbled, but dodged the hands reaching for him, to support him, to catch him, he wasn’t sure. There was the big bat and the midget and the tank in the red helmet; the guy who felt like a ghost and he just wanted nothing more than to go back to him, and- Danny shuddered taking another step back, his face was hot and flaming red right now. This was, this was- he couldn’t-

Hiding his powers be damned; he sunk through the roof.

So embarrassing! He closed his eyes fighting tears as he sank down down down, all the way into the ground where they for sure couldn’t follow him. All the while his insides screamed, because he didn’t want to be lonely anymore. Fuck, he just wanted to go home.

He was so sick and tired of this city.

So... yeah hope you enjoyed this, now I can reveal why I blame Clock, they said and I quote "Danny, like a cat with catnip suddenly" and now Danny is a cat, what can you do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Jason's gonna have to lure this feral ghost in slowly with food and hugs.

edited with link to the next part:next Masterpost where you can subscribe: link

[petricorah]

something something i will follow you into the dark (comic wip)

[victorie552]

Ok, so Noldolantë, "The Fall of the Noldor" is a lament composed by Maglor about what happened before, during and after First Kinslaying at Alqualondë. It's such a good song that it's played regularly in Aman and Valar listen to it often (I swear, I swear it was in the Silmarillion I just can't find it now).

It's also a more or less common fanon that Maglor continues writing Noldolante through the whole First Age. Makes sense - it's about fall of the Noldor, and Noldor did a lot of falling back then.

Headcannon time: So my first thought was that Noldolante must a long, long, long epic of a song. So it probably has many parts, right? Iliad has 24 books/parts, somehow I think Noldolante would be at least just as long, and there are longer epics. And again, just like Iliad, unless you're a scholar, in the daily life you don't really listen to/read the whole thing, just reread and repeat the most dramatic fragments. What I'm trying to impress upon you all is that the story would have different segments, or chapters, if you will.

And if Maglor continues to write the story during the FA, there would absolutely be a moment in the lament where the OG Noldolante becomes Noldolante 2, and even Noldolante 3. There may be the same musical motif or something, I decided that Maglor IS that good of a bard to keep it all consistent enough so you know it's all the same story, but the style changes a lot - it's been 400 years in the making, let The Music Elf have fun!

So, Point 1: Many, Many Parts, basically Maglor's FA WIP

My second thought was that, while Feanor invented his alphabet, elves learned their history mostly through oral tradition aka songs and spoken stories. Noldolante is definitely a historical record, where a historical event was archived for future generations.

(It was a also a way to deal with grief, guilt and blame Maglor and all Noldor have faced regarding First Kinslaying - free therapy! But that's not what this post is about)

Archived.

My 2.5 thought was that Noldolante isn't just recallings of how pretty and horrified the beach looked during the murdering or how mad and sorrowful the sea was at everyone during the voyage or even how awesome and charismatic Feanor looked during his speeches that every single Noldo was ready to fight Morgoth barehanded in his name - no, this is a record of who killed who, who got killed by whom, and how.

Noldor and Teleri knew each other (were friends, even!) before the First Kinslaying, so I'm confident that after a lot of interviews, detective work, and cross-referencing, Maglor could and would create a very good... name list. Practically every Noldo and Teler present during First Kinslaying would get a stanza in a song, more if he killed someone, most if he killed many people. Killers and killed would show up twice, first in a fragment listing the killers and their victims, then in a part listing the victims and their murderers. Basically it's the same thing twice, but from different POVs. With when, where and how included.

(It was seen to be in bad taste to compare kills during Maglor's Regency, when most of his interview-part work happened. People did it anyway. There were a Saddest Kill, Funniest Kill, and Weirdest Kill discusions. There was a Tier List. These were weird times to be a Feanorian Noldo.)

(It WAS in Bad Taste, but at least people talked about it. I cannot stress enough how much free therapy this lament provided)

(Little did they know, when Teleri started getting reembodied in Aman, they had very similar discussions, but more in a "I can't believe he killed me like THAT" way. Long, long, long after the First Age. Noldolante is a gift that keeps giving)

So, Maglor had all the historical grith and no common shame to create a "We Killed All These People And We Feel Bad About It" banger of a song, and every Noldo had a very personal reason to at least remember the fragments they are in. It's a hit on a scale never seen before.

(I'm not sure how to tackle the issue of Nolofinweans and Arafinweans learning about Noldolante after crossing the Ice. But there were discussions. There was anger, there was "????", there was controversy. Basically, the song got bigger and bigger rep no matter what your opinion on it was. By the time of Mereth Aderthad it was an important cultural and political piece and at least Fingon's forces were included in the main song. It had parodies.)

Point 2: Archive Function/Kill count storage. Cultural phenomen, every Noldo included

This is where my personal nonsense begins: Main Noldolante was done, there was nothing more to say about First Kinslaying, all killings and deaths were well documented.

But the Siege started. And the Noldor kept dying.

It was less dramatic than it sounded - between the big battles the siege was maintained, but orc raids also happened and sometimes one to few Noldor died in skirmishes. The legal procedure was to document the death of a fellow elf and send a word to king Fingolfin. The cultural procedure, technically started by Feranorians but adapted by many more, was to send the name, common characteristics and cause of death to Maglor's Gap. After few months, King Fingolfin would send reinforcements, short condolences and financial compensation if they had family. After few months, family of an elf would also receive a personal lament for them and a place for them in a Noldolante.

Yes, every lament Maglor created in that time was technically part of the Noldolante. Noldolante 1.5, if you will. Laments make in that time were very customized, and simpler than Noldolante Main, but were still considered a part of the same song. Of course, nobody was expected to know and remember laments for every single Noldo, younger Noldor born in Beleriand could even only know fragments about their family members. Only Maglor would ever know Noldolante in full, but it was understood that everyone had their place in The Song.

The results of Great Battles were harder to document, but Maglor did that. Of course, Dagor Bragollach was hard on him personally, but he worked his way through.

(High King Fingon forbade creating laments for his father. There were no songs for Fingolfin. Apart from in Noldolante, of course. Of course. Maglor did not share the lament with anyone, but he sat long hours and many nights with a blank paper before him, looking at the candle flame and thinking of the past and the future. The song unsung, but there)

Nirnaeth was... Maglor was never more hated and more approached at the same time than then. Still, Noldolante grew and grew, as if people knew the end was near.

It was Second Kinslaying that destroyed the myth of Maglor's song. Feanorians didn't know the Sindar they killed, but surely, they couldn't just left their names unmentioned like they did with orcs? So, Noldor talked, but the battle happened in caves - it wasn't uncommon to find dead bodies in empty rooms, with no witnesses to what happened. Surviving Sindar didn't want to share any names, even when Maglor strong-armed some into talking with him, and good for them. Maglor made a big lament anyway. Maglor, wild, with no shame and dead brothers, with legacy crumbling around him. Noldolante, with holes.

After Third Kinslaying, Noldor didn't want to talk. Lament for Sirion didn't have any names. Clearly, songs weren't a way to go anymore, it was always about live witnesses. And so Maglor raised the twins.

Lament for Maedhros was sung repeatedly. There was no one to hear it.

Point 3: Only Maglor knows Noldolante in full. But that doesn't matter, because everyone knows the important part: the Noldolante is finished. The Star of Hope rises in the West and the story goes on. The Fall has ended.

[jajanvm-imbi]

Hey remember when I said that this was the most frustrating thing about being a Helluva Boss enjoyer?

Yeah I was wrong.

The most frustrating thing about being a Helluva Boss enjoyer is explicitly stating multiple times that I like show and then get called an anti and homophobic and media illiterate when I complain about the direction it has taken.

I LIKE the comedy

I LIKE the animation and artstyle

I LIKE the more serious plotlines like the government agents plot and the Cherubs plot

I LIKE the themes of friendship and found family

I even like most of the songs!

And ofc the voice cast slays every time

But just because your show has angst and tears and drama and sad music doesn't automatically make it "good".

Just because your characters are queer doesn't automatically make them good or well written characters

This fandom is so frustrating to deal with when you want to express your more nuanced takes of it

This is probably gonna be the last post I make about this subject and about Helluva Boss in general, this shit is too stupid to deal with

[buggitino]

more headcanons about sebastian solace from the hit game pressure roblox

back on my bullshit and i promise i only talk about The Situation a little bit

☆ his third arm is more sensitive than the other two (i'm thinking that either the USHD doctors fucked something up during the operation OR it grew in wrong, nerve endings closer to the epidermis and whatnot, something like that)

☆ just hates being touched in general, he’d rather initiate that contact (need an update where he gently —> not very gently shakes expendables off (depending on whether and how much they’ve annoyed/flashbanged him) when they climb him) ☆☆ part of this is due to trauma, he cant trust anyone to touch him without hurting him ☆☆ the other part is that he’s got that fucking dawg in him (i’ll get to this in a second)

☆ unlike what his new voice lines are starting to suggest about his character (i’m not gonna talk about zerum again because i think everyone knows what's happening at this point and ive already thrown in my two cents) he does NOT hate the expendables. literally his first line upon meeting him in his shop has him calling himself your friend (as strained of a connection as it may be, he could very easily not offer items, not share documentation/info, and just take the expendables data and hoard anything he picks up to make it harder for them to get to the crystal) (like yes, it's a mutually beneficial relationship but if sebastian didn't care about or sympathize with the expendables to some extent, it wouldn't be). i really do think he just has a short fuse (i'm not going to bring up trauma again, however-) and says things he doesn't mean (e.g. “they deserved it. and frankly so do the rest of you.” (im coping with the mischaracterization of these new lines leave me alone)) as a means of protecting himself and pushing the expendables further away (both physically and emotionally)

☆ he’ll act like a brat once they’re done, but he lets younger expendables sleep in his shop (he cares about them but would never in a million years let them know that) ☆☆ if a younger one comes in with a bunch of adult expendables, he’ll treat them all the same but will secretly slip the younger one some extra batteries, gauze, something unnoticeable (he feels especially responsible for the younger male expendables cause they remind him of his little brother)

☆ sometimes he thinks he can hear his family's voices on the radio, just under all the static, calling out for him like a search party would. he used to cry over this but he almost got caught once by an expendable coming into the shop so he does his best to tune it out. it’s hard. guilt pulls at his stomach every time he hears a clip of his family, begging for him to come home, to respond, something, anything, and he ignores it.

☆ autism (cause i said so) - i'm including this one for the sole reason that he does the dinosaur thing with his third arm and generally keeps his hands clasped together in the secret dinosaur position (he just like me fr) ☆☆ hates bright lights (the only light he uses/allows in his shop is the one he emits) (its a very soft/warm hue as opposed to the bright fluorescents throughout the rest of the facility) (not to bring up the flash beacon, obviously nobody likes getting flashbanged and he's got angler eyes but sTILL)

☆ he used to hate eating fish (pre-op) and now he’s pissed cause it’s all he has available and the DNA changes made it so fish is the yummiest tastiest thing in the world (i like imagining him actively fighting the urge to eat whatever fish he’s cooked in one bite cause he refuses to acknowledge that he's changed on a level that isn't physical/appearance-based)

☆ calls grown adults “kiddo” (even the ones that are older than him) ☆☆ he gets a certain kind of joy from seeing the 40/50/60 year old expendables try to figure out just how old he is after they get called “kiddo”. it’s extra fun for him when they’ve clearly already heard the rumors and/or gotten a glimpse of his file

☆ the ring is just an accessory, a bracelet on the floor or in a locker he found and liked. assumed nobody was gonna claim it and kept it (shoutout to @/lotus.eaterr on tik tok for this one!!!!)

[formulapookie]

🦂☀️

under the cut to read on Tumblr, here to read on Ao3

Teacher's pet Vale/Bez, 7.8k words

Bez has a weird energy to him tonight, it’s - how to say- magnetic. 

Attractive.

He would never call Bez attractive normally, not because he wasn’t a good looking guy, but he just had never seen him under that light.

He couldn’t, that is his disciple, a kid he practically raised since he was 15 or 16 and would’ve never looked at as he was doing now.

He feels wrong right now, while observing the lights in the club dance around and on Bez’s body, twirling around him and running on his skin creating a game of colors and shapes.

But it’s not like it’s only his fault, it could also be due to the one too many drinks he downed after his academy managed to get two wins and a generally good outcome in the race today.

Plus, Bez tends to be extremely stupid while betting, and the other academy boys are assholes, they know he would bet anything just for the fun of it.

So that’s how the curly boy ended up dressed in a skirt, fishnets and a glittery top in the middle of the Cocoricò.

And it’s way more normal to look at him when he’s like this right? because well- he kinda looks like a girl no? If one ignores the messy beard, and the broad figure and the general obviousness that he’s not in fact a girl.

Vale is trying to convince himself he’s staring at Bez just because of how he’s dressed, because of how the light morbidly moves on his face, on his lips.

Lips tinted of a bright red, that move to the rhythm of whatever song they’re passing right now.

That’s why he’s staring, it’s because he’s got a skirt and lipstick on, yeah there’s no other reason for it.

The red fishnets and the glittery top too, they are what is drawing his attention to Bez for sure.

Yeah it’s them.

It’s them.

It’s definitely not the movements Bez is doing on the dance floor. It’s not his hair moving in the night, it’s not his hips swaying left and right in a hypnotic dance. It’s not his abs on full display underneath that top and it’s definitely not the way his ass looks moving at the rhythm of the music.

Vale feels sick.

Sick for even thinking about him this way.

Because right now there’s no drink able to wash away the guilt he’s got weighing on his shoulder, or the mental image of bez on his knees looking up at him with his dick in his mouth.

It’s so fucking wrong.

He should be thinking about other people. There’s a girl looking like a fucking model who’s been staring at him for an hour now. He should be going after her, or the guy looking like he just fell from heaven on the other side of the club, not Bez.

Bez on the other hand is dancing like no one else is around him, he only thinks about being carefree and having fun tonight.

He can feel a heavy presence near him, a gaze lingering on him for the past hour now.

And at first he thinks it’s some guy wanting to spend the night with him, which would be what he needs right now, but he can’t find someone matching the intensity of the gaze he feels on him.

Not until he turns around and locks eyes with Vale.

Deep blue lust watching him, looking at him with a hunger he’s not seen for a long time in someone looking at him, he feels like a fucking prey.

And he would lie if he told himself he wouldn’t like for Vale to hunt him down until he has no breath left, pressed against a random concrete wall in the club, music loud and ringing in his ears as he feels Vale’s teeth on his flesh.

It’s almost a sinful thought, and Bez would kill it immediately if it was the first time he ever thought of Vale fucking him like an animal, but it wasn’t.

He started having those thoughts two years ago, when he stepped up in MotoGP and Vale wanted him in his team. He'd labeled them as forbidden and dangerous. Waking up one night after his first podium, hard as a rock as he just dreamt about Vale praising him for his result and his hand resting on his hip burning a mark there.

He thought about his hands on him more than once since then, way more than once, and everytime those hands got more and more intimate, switching from a light touch on his back to a strong grip around his throat to a harsh tug to his hair as he's being fucked relentlessly.

He dreamt about having his lips crushing against Vale’s in a hungry and messy kiss, tongues dancing like he was doing right now, chaotically and shamelessly.

He feels naked under Vale’s gaze, like each one of his thoughts is now bare in front of the older man and he can’t do anything except wish he isn’t repulsed by them.

But with the way Vale’s eyes are fixated on the fishnets adorning his legs and on his skirt he thinks he’s getting the wrong impression.

He has a hunch he may have a chance with Vale, at least for a night, at least to have Vale lust after him for this while.

The moment seems locked away from the rest of the night, all in slow motion except for Bez’s heart racing faster than his bike, Vale’s thoughts running at the same pace, there’s a moment when they’re both in a bubble, no one else able to break in and none of the two able to break out.

Bez doesn’t breathe, he just holds the gaze with Vale, and Vale does the same. He doesn’t look away, he can’t.

Mig abruptly comes to the rescue, unconsciously, and wakes Bez from the trance he fell into, making Vale look away with shame while Bez’s brain’s working on a plan to have Vale act on that stare they shared.

“Bez Bez Bez come, look, Cele is dancing on a table, come on”

Bez is dragged away, his mind not abandoning the intention of having Vale by the night.

Vale breaks away from the wall he was leaning against, drink now empty in his hand, just the ice slowly melting.

He goes to the bar, asking for another one, stronger, and even if the barista looks annoyed while doing it the drink comes out really stronger than before.

He almost chugs it down in one move, but tries to keep a minimal composure, even if he doesn’t think that in this mess anyone’s gonna notice him getting wasted.

Bez is at whatever table Cele is supposedly dancing on, so at least for now he doesn't have to see him.

Wrong.

As he steps closer to the side of the dancefloor he sees both Cele and Bez on top of a table, drinks in hand, with the academy boys and some other random guys yelling and hyping them up,causing the two to dance even more animatedly than before, the song not helping at all. Bez is completely absorbed by it and the lights he doesn't notice Vale staring at him with his mouth open and a pretty obvious bulge in his pants, and keeps on doing whatever move the song requires him to do.

One of the random guys crowded around the table fake-throws Bez some money and Bez smiles at him.

Vale is still staring, unable to look away, millions of thoughts in his head. The main one being “wrong wrong wrong wrong”.

He feels Bez’s eyes on him before seeing them.

They’re piercing in a way they shouldn’t be. There’s too much request in that gaze, too much need, too much lust.

It’s not even wrong on Bez’s side, Vale thinks, he’s idolized him since early childhood, sometimes one can confuse worship and admiration with attraction.

But what he’s feeling right now.

This is.

Thinking about how he’d look coming apart under him, red cheeks matching the red from his lips, messy curls bouncing up and down as he rides him.

He’s fucking hard in the middle of a club, lusting after someone he very clearly can’t have, shoudln’t even think about having in that sense, yet he’s caught wanting him like he wanted few people in his life.

He tries really hard to mark it as a momentary need, something he’s feeling now due to alcohol and adrenaline, not a feeling that’s been hiding in the shadows and only has the strength to come out now.

He has to leave the scene right this moment, he has to otherwise he’ll do something he will regret.

He makes it out of the little crowd just in time to see Bez climbing down the table to smash his lips on a guy’s face. He feels his blood boil but ignores it.

He can’t he can’t he can’t.

Vale downs the rest of his drink and turns around, looking for the nearest exit and hoping it’s close.

Lucky enough it is. He goes for it and walks back to the car.

He drives home quickly, thinking of anything but Bez.

He breathes in and out, slowly, mechanically, in out, in out. In out.

He’s calming down, the loud music now far away.

He parks the car, goes inside his home. 

As he sits on the couch, he tries to breathe the heat away.

Then he hears the door open. Fuck he forgot the boys have the keys to his house, “for emergencies” he said when handing them a pair each.

Bez comes through the door with confidence, as if he owns the place.

Vale is staring for the millionth time tonight, he knows Bez saw, he also knows he has to be stronger than he is right now.

“Hii Vale” Bez smiles at him, and one may say it’s cute, but the desire in his eyes makes it look everything but cute.

“Enjoyed the club?”

“Yeah it’s not bad, I still don’t get most of the music but it’s alright.”

“Mh yeah some songs are terrible, but others are really good!” “Yeah, some are good.”

He’s sweating Jesus Christ, because Bez is now sitting next to him on the couch and he is not distancing himself as he should.

“I liked some in particular, I was dancing to them with Cele on the table, did you see?”

He fucking knows he did, why is he asking?

He doesn’t want to answer. 

No that’s a lie.

He can’t. Even if he wants to, he can’t because if he does he would overstep yet another line.

“Kinda”

Ok, safe zone, this is not bad, he can still back up from this.

If he really wanted to, he knows he would’ve already walked away to his room leaving Bez here alone.

Instead he’s still in the same position as before, but by now Bez is less than twenty centimeters from him.

“I think it was a bit more than kinda, no? You stayed there for three consecutive songs”

Fuck.

“Tell me if I’m going crazy here, but were you watching me because you want me?”

Vale inhales deeply again, tries to do in-out again, but Bez is just too close and he’s just too fucking stupid and doesn’t move away.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for Marco, you shouldn’t be here with me.” “Yeah, maybe not. But I am anyway.” “I’m not the person for this Marco, you should find someone else.”

“But I don’t want someone else.”

And this is the exact moment in which Vale should walk away, say no to Bez, distance himself.

“Marco you don’t want this”

“But I do. I’ve been wanting this for a while now. I promise I’m good, I’m not a virgin kid asking for his first time to be with his idol. I know what I want”

“it’s wrong”

“no it’s not. I am an adult Vale”

“You’re 25. You are in my academy for fuck’s sake, I - no it’s just - it can’t happen.”

He wishes he was strong, wishes for Marco’s words to not do what they’re doing to him, for Marco’s figure to not feel so hot.

“You don’t actually mean any of this. You want me. Let yourself take me”

And by now there’s absolutely no space between the two, Bez is practically on his lap, Vale’s hands itching with the need to pull at his hair and have him under his full control.

“Let me suck your dick please”

Vale stays still for a moment. It reminds him of Marc, all those years ago, equally as young, maybe younger, fuck he doesn’t remember, begging for him like Bez is doing now.

It’s different but it feels the same.

Marc had managed to get into his sheets that night, and it went good for a while, then gone to complete shit.

With Bez…it could be different. 

But that’s still his student right there, asking to fucking suck his dick like it’s a normal thing to do.

“Fuck”

Bez’s eyes shine, a smile cracking on his face already.

“Yes - fuck - yes do it”

It could be embarrassing for him if it wasn’t so fucking hot.

If the eagerness with which Bez shifts to the ground and unzips his pants didn’t feel like pure lust running him over.

Bez tugs down Vale’s boxers and pants in one move, his dick hard against his abs now. As he wraps his lips around the tip, already shiny with precum, Vale lets out a groan, gripping at the couch as Bez takes in more of his cock.

He takes it almost completely before gagging a bit and pulling back, covering the part he can’t reach with one of his hands, and it feels heavenly.

“Marco”

Vale is looking down at him, a hint of tears in the corner of Bez’s eyes, his lips stretched around his dick, that fucking lipstick half smudged on his tip.

Too much. It’s too much eye contact, if he keeps on looking this will all be too fucking real.

He tilts his head back, closing his eyes, and feels Bez guide his hand to his hair, soft curls around his fingers.

And Vale tightens the grip, Bez moans at the move, vibrations engulfing all of Vale’s dick, making him buck his hips forward and choking Bez on his dick.

“Sorry”

The younger boy lets go of Vale’s dick, looking up at him even if he can’t see his eyes, licking up a stripe from the base to the head, having Vale curse repeatedly, lustful moans coming from him and hinting at Bez to do it again, more, take it deeper.

And he does, taking almost all of it in his mouth, barely an inch left bare, and Bez bobs his head with a quick pace, Vale’s hand still in his hair, tugging at them from time to time to urge him to go faster.

Vale is close, both can feel it, and it’s just something that turns Bez on more, knowing he’s the one doing this to him, that he’s the one getting him to question his morals.

It’s toxic maybe, but addictive too, he needs more of Valentino now.

Vale tugs at his hair again, this time to have him stop, tilting his head back, and Bez is on the verge of dying.

He wants Vale to cum on his face, make a sort of claim on him, wants to belong to Vale.

He opens his mouth and takes out his tongue, awaiting, and Vale has thousands of thought crossing his mind, but they’re all shut down when he strokes his dick once, twice and has his release painting the boy’s face, the most of it on his lips and tongue, god that tongue, some on his cheeks, which Bez quickly cleans with his fingers and then licks clean.

“Fuck you’re good at it”

Bez feels like he could catch on fire, Vale praising him like that, when he’s still on his knees is something he will jerk off to for a long time.

“Yeah been told that”

“Go to my room. Wait there for me”

Vale’s brain begins to work heavily.

What does he mean he’s been told he’s good at giving head.

Has he- he’s done this enough times to be confident about it.

Who were the men before him?

Pecco? The other guys from the academy? Mig did look interested in Marco as he was putting on the lipstick earlier that night, and Cele had danced with him, the others surely weren’t unaffected by him as well.

Oh God.

MARC?

It could be, why would bez suddenly be polite and call him an example when until a few months prior he insulted him?

No no he has to let go of these ideas, he can’t let himself wonder like this, can’t let the ugly feeling he already feels gnawing at his stomach grow bigger.

He gets up from the couch, putting back on his briefs quickly making his way to the bedroom.

He has to tell Bez to leave, to not think about this again, that he just simply can’t fuck him because he’s his student and -

and all his morals fucking fly out the window when he steps in the room and catches Marco on his knees on his bed, admiring himself in that damn mirror he put in front of it. 

Playing with the hem of his skirt, adjusting positions and trying to clean the extra lipstick from his lips, failing miserably at it and only ending up smudging it further.

Bez notices and smirks at him, he still needs, he still wants, and Vale can feel that.

“Are you just going to stare or are you going to fuck me?”

Vale’s eyes are caught by the very obvious bulge under his skirt, it’s all so wrong, so so wrong and so so fucking hot and arousing.

“Take your top off”

Bez bites his lip, the man’s voice is like a siren’s to him, whatever he asks for he will give him.

No questions, just pure devotion.

And if up until one minute earlier Vale had found that dangerous he now finds it just empowering, being able to have such an impact on Bez tonight, to pull his strings and have him like a pretty doll.

Bez removes the glitter top, tossing it somewhere around the room, cheeks red and breath becoming heavier.

All of Vale’s attention is now drawn to Bez’s piercing, standing proud on his nipple, just above the tattoo he got.

He goes to sit on the bed, and for a second or two he doesn’t say anything, just watches Bez being completely stripped of any kind of power, and it gets him hard.

Then he moves towards him, laying him down on the mattress, attacking his piercing with his teeth, it tastes like iron and lust.

“Fuck - Vale not there I - God I’m too sensitive there please”

“where? here?”

And Vale fucking sucks on his nipple, Bez has to cover his mouth to quiet down a moan because he’s scared the entirety of Tavullia could hear him in that moment.

Vale goes to grab his wrist, moving it from Bez’s mouth, a show of strenght that has Bez feel a pool of heat in his stomach, he wants to be fucking wrecked.

“No no don’t cover your mouth it’s not very nice to me eh? I am doing this and you try to stay quiet? If you want to be quiet i can just leave the room and leave you here”

“No! I won't anymore no please”

Vale smiles, a wicked and demeaning smile, just like a cat before killing the mouse.

He doesn’t continue the conversation, just lowers his mouth on Bez’s extremely sensitive nipple again, making the younger moan deliciously as he gets hard again.

He teases for a good five minutes, Bez so close he could come if Vale simply pressed his hand on his dick, lost in the haze of having Valentino Rossi bringing him to orgasm in his bed.

Then Vale bites on it, metal clinking on teeth, and Bez fucking loses the small war he started with himself to try and resist to this.

He’s coming hard, soaking his underwear and some even staining the pretty white skirt that started it all, back arching and hands gripping the sheets as if he could fly away by letting go.

“Vale please more”

He’s not even off the high yet it’s pathetic. But he desires Vale’s body on top of his, manhandling him around the bed and making him come how many times he sees fit, the older holding him down by his wrists, unable to move, wants to feel Vale fucking into him until he only remembers his name and the shape of his dick.

“Eager are we?”

Those piercing blue eyes feel like daggers in Bez’s chest, he feels watched, like Vale is studying him to decide what to do with him.

Vale’s hands move to squeeze Bez’s thighs, the thin fabric of the fishnets feels electric at the touch, he keeps on moving his hands up and down, Bez fighting for his life as he watches Vale hook a finger under one of the strings of the fishnets and making it snap against his thigh.

“Wonder how strong these are”

He’s still for a moment, then looks back at an absolutely adoring Bez, who’s just waiting for his words to do anything.

“On your hands and knees. Now”

Fuck it’s hot.

Vale bossing him around, telling him everything he has to do, it makes his head spin and his dick come back to life.

He never wants this to end.

“Quick, or you can stay here whining all night long and I won’t do any of the things I planned for you”

And Bez has never been quicker to do something in his entire life, he’s ready how Vale asked him to be in two split seconds, back slightly arched too, he doesn’t take off the skirt, he wasn’t asked to do it.

He feels Vale’s hands on his ass, then the skirt gets flipped up and he then a groan coming from him, followed by a soft spoken curse.

“Fuck Marco you want to kill me? I bet these are even cheaper than the fishnets and will break just as easily”

As these Vale is clearly hinting at the red panties he’s got on, it wasn’t like he could have worn a pair of boxers underneath the skirt and with the fishnets no?

“Do the others know about this Marco? Mh? That you wore these with your little outfit? They’re even matching fucking hell”

Bez is moaning just from the attention Vale is giving him, and even more when Vale slaps one of his cheeks lightly, making it jiggle.

“No they -  fuck - they don’t know I didn’t tell them” “Were reserving the little surprise for whoever would’ve fucked you? dirty”

Bez moans again, this time because he can feel Vale move behind him and is more than ready to finally take him.

He hears the tearing of the cheap fishnet fabric, a wave of heat and excitement drowning him.

Then it’s the panties turn, Vale breaks them as they are not even there, exposing his hole, already wet and inviting.

And he’s expecting to feel those long slim fingers Vale has and which he’s fantasized about for a long time working him open, but the sound he lets out when he instead feels Vale’s mouth against his hole and his tongue pushing in is something that will haunt Vale’s memory for the rest of his life.

“God I - fuuuck”

Bez is already shivering, panting hard as Vale is spreading his cheeks wider to get more work done, reducing Bez to a moaning mess in a bunch of minutes.

Vale is humming as he eats him out, vibration causing Bez to get even more aroused, his dick hard once again and already leaking, the sheets will be a mess tomorrow morning.

Vale breaks away for a moment, just to see how actually worked up he’s got Bez by just using his tongue.

“Wonder what the others would say if they found you like this.

Begging for me like a whore”

Bez moans, again, he can’t help it, Vale’s voice is just too much.

“Would you let them watch Marco? As I fuck you so good you’d be drooling on my bed?”

Bez can’t even moan anymore, mind too fucked out to do that.

He just goes to look for some friction, something, anything giving him a bit of pleasure.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Have them watch as you take it, God if I knew you were this pathetic I would’ve just picked any whore at that club and brought her home”

He tries to touch himself, he just needs it, because Vale is teasing too much and he’s too weak for it, for what he says. For how he says it.

“Tsk tsk Marco what are you doing?

I stop giving you attention for one minute and you’re already trying to get off on your own?

That’s not very good of you now is it?”

“ ‘m sorry I just - please fuck me”

Vale smiles, Bez can feel it even if he isn’t looking, he hasn’t looked back once since he got told to be on his hands and knees.

The man’s hand roam once again on his ass, a hum of satisfaction as he sees how affected Bez is.

“You’re so desperate for it you’d let them fuck you after watching you be good for me yes?”

This time Bez can’t help but whine, because fuck yes he would.

If - if Vale asked he would.

He can picture himself getting fucked dumb by Valenfirst, then the others, four, five sets of hands on him, making him beg for it.

And Vale would be a liar if he didn’t admit to thinking of the same scenario, Bez whimpering and moaning under his hands, the others made to wait, and watch, then once he’s had his fun let free to go, Bez eager as he’s being right now.

Fuck what a view it would be.

“Now, are you going to be good and let me finish or are you going to touch yourself with no permission and have nothing in return?”

Bez is blushing hard right now, he feels lightheaded and Vale has not even fucked him yet.

“Tesoro if you don’t speak I don’t know what to do with you”

“Good. Gonna be good for you”

“Bravo Marco”

Vale smirks again, then licks his lips in anticipation.

Eating Marco out is something for sure, it’s crazy how sensitive he is.

He spanks him another few times just for fun, Bez letting out whimpers that sound heavenly to Vale.

He’s quick to go back to his work after that, tongue pushing in with higher pace, humming even more to get more reactions out of the boy.

After a few minutes he takes pity of him tho, his tongue alone is definitively not gonna be enough to stretch him before fucking him.

Vale breaks away despise Marcos protests, putting two fingers in front of his mouth tho makes him shut up and suck on them, the same eagerness from when he was sucking his cock.

As soon as he pushes one finger in he feels how actually hot and inviting he is, his mind running 300km/h imagining how he must feel around his dick.

“Vale yes please more”

He’s so cute when he begs Vale almost feels bad for wanting to ruin him.

But when he whimpers because he starts to thrust with his finger his only desire gets back to wanting to absolutely wreck him.

He adds another finger, Bez moaning louder and arching his back again.

Bez is looking in the mirror, he can see how desperate he looks for Vale right now, face red and mouth open, his curls framing his face and his arms shaking.

He can also see Vale’s face, his expression as he’s working him open, and to say he only sees lust is an understatement.

There’s a layer of possessiveness to it, and it gets Bez fucking aroused.

“Ah fuck”

He got distracted looking at Vales face he didn’t register he was about to add a third finger, and fuck it feels good.

“Been long since someone took proper care of you yes? You’re so tight jesus”

And Bez can’t lie, cause it really has been long, almost four months since he last got fucked.

And he couldn’t have asked for a better man than Vale as his new.

Vale increases his pace, Bez is on the verge of coming once again.

If he let himself go right now he probably could,

he feels like a toy Vale can play with and it’s the hottest thing he could think of.

“You’re so sensitive everywhere you know? I bet you can come untouched a few more times”

“More please”

“Mh more what Marco? Speak up”

“More you please”

Vale is having his huge chunk of fun right now, Bez is just coming apart under him and he hasn’t even fucked him.

“Tell me exactly what you want Marco, you told me you would be good for me no?”

Bez wants to cry, because he’s not sure he can ask for those things by the way his words don’t come out his mouth.

And it’s pathetic really because Vale hasn’t even fucked him, but oh God the thought alone it’s so hot.

“Fuck me - fuck me until I cry please I need it”

“Mh now see? That’s being a good boy, and I’ll make sure to do exactly what you begged me to do”

Even if Vale’s words are still and controlled his thoughts are anything but that.

Just thinking about having Bez cry of pleasure under him it’s practically a sin, and with those little whimpers he keeps on making?

Jesus Vale will have to restrain himself from coming as soon as he slides inside him.

He removes his fingers, spreading Bez’s cheeks again just to look a bit longer at how he already looks spent.

“Beautiful”

Bez moans at it, and tries to look back to see Vale thrust into him but there’s a hand in his hair that pushes his head down on the mattress.

“I want you head down ass up while I fuck you pretty boy got it?”

“Yeah”

“Good boy”

Vale pushes inside, never yet letting go of Bez’s hair, still pushing him on the mattress.

“Fuck should’ve stretched you more fuck you’re ah”

Bez thinks the exact opposite, he likes this sensation, the side of pain he loves while fucking.

Vale pushes all the way in and let’s go of his hold on Bez’s hair, noticing proudly how the boy doesn’t move from his position, just whines slightly at the sensation of Vale inside him.

The man is currently looking at where his dick disappears inside Marco, he truly has a beautiful ass.

He places his hands on both his cheeks, part are still covered by the fishnets and it gets Vale delirious.

He squeezes at them and Marco whines again, he’s leaking precum on all the sheets under him.

“Please move”

Vale gets back to reality and pulls almost all the way out, then slams back in with force.

“Fuck! God fuck yeah it’s good”

Vale doesn’t comment but he’s not doing better than Bez, his little moans and the heat get to him, he’s sliding in and out at a fast pace, holding Bez’s ass in his hands and watching how it jiggles every time he thrusts back in.

“You feel so good around me Marco, could fuck you for hours”

And spiritually he could but holy fuck physically he’s stepping closer to his orgasm at every thrusts.

Bez is drooling on the bed, Vale is big, not the biggest he had for sure but fuck he’s good at it.

He can feel him grunting above him and feels again like a prey, and it’s fucking hot.

He looks in the mirror for as much as he can from his position and sees how Vale’s hair are sticky against his forehead, eyes fixated on his hole and the veins on his arms really visible.

Vale’s always been hot he can’t lie, he was his sexual awakening and the first man he jerked off to, but having him here, like this, fucking him like an animal and getting pleasure out of it it’s far even from his dreams.

When he called him good boy he could’ve combusted, but tried to keep composure.

He throws the composure out the window as Vale slaps his left cheek once, the weight of his hands imprinted on his body, and jerks forwards looking for friction.

“Trying to get off because I spanked you? Fuck Marco didn’t know you were so dirty”

When Bez keeps moaning at Vale’s thrusts the man spanks him again, on the other cheek, drawing a longer and louder moan.

“you like that a lot eh?”

Bez is so close to coming he can’t answer.

All of a sudden Vale stops his thrusts, and Bez whines, he wants to cum so bad.

He feels a hand in his hair again, pulling him up this time, and making him face the mirror.

“Look how desperate you are, you’ve drenched all my sheets” 

And he does look desperate.

Red cheeks to match his fishnets, hair all ruffled and sticky to the sides of his face, eyes unfocused and drool still on the corner of his mouth.

He’s steadying himself with his arms for how much he can, but they’re shaking like his legs now.

Vale closes the distance between them two, humming against the back of Bez’s neck and going to bite lightly at the lobe where hes got the same earring as him.

“Come for me Marco”

And Bez is weak for this.

He lets out a high pitched moan he didn’t know he could make and comes on the spot, cum staining the sheets even more, Vale still hard inside him with his hand in his hair, forcing Bez to watch as he comes apart under him.

“You follow orders like a damn puppy you’re amazing”

Vale lets go as Bez whimpers at the paragon, his hands giving out and he’s once again face against the mattress and ass pressed against Vale’s hips.

The older resumes his thrusts and Bez is embarrassingly getting hard again at the feeling.

A mantra of fuck fuck fuck comes from his lips as Vale is trying with all himself not to turn Bez around and kiss him until they can’t breathe anymore.

Bez just keeps on moaning out Vale’s name, getting fully hard again as Vale fucks him in the mattress, grunts increasing at every thrust, the poor boy under him now unable to form words beside Vale’s name on loop, close once again to coming.

If Vale listened to his untamed will he’d just come like this, buried deep inside Bez,filling him up and marking him all over with bites and hickeys.

He just keeps on railing him instead, deep thrusts aimed at Bez’s prostate, resulting in him being an absolute mess of pleasure and arousal.

Bez who feels like he’s in heaven right now, he’s sure there’s gonna be marks on his ass from how hard Vale is gripping it, and he loves that idea.

Feeling like he’s owned by Vale, like he’s marked, claimed.

He would beg for Vale to come inside him, if he was sure for the answer to be yes, but go now he’s more than happy with the idea of being fucked like this by the older man.

Bez can barely last a few thrusts more before coming again, staining his abs and the sheets once again, and he sounds desperate for it while he does.

Vale is so fucking close as well, Bez can feel it in the way his movements are less regular, in thé way his moans change.

He tries to speak, that little voice he still has coming out broken and interrupted by moans timed with Vale’s erratic thrusts.

“Vale please come all over me I need - on my chest fuck”

And Vale completely looses his mind, and reason, and control and everything he has because the idea of doing that, claiming Marco like that.

It’s so addictive.

“Fuck”

There’s not much more he can say before pulling out and turning Bez so he’s laying on his back, legs spread and - God.

He’s a vision.

Red lipstick all smudged, dried tears on his cheeks, cheeks so red they are matching the color of those damn panties and fishnets he ripped before fucking him stupid, eyes so unfocused and fucked out they can’t even manage to properly make out Vale’s frame.

“Fuck fuck fuck”

He strokes himself rapidly, hungry, and comes hard, all over Bez’s chest and abs, their comes mixing over him in a sinful outrage of filth and desire.

Vale is very close to actually listening to his dick instead of his brain and licking Bez’s abs and chest clean from both their release, then kiss the boy, making him taste both of them in a rush of lust.

He realizes he’s been staring and moves away rapidly, before falling into temptation and actually doing what he’s thinking of.

Bez is still panting hard, slowly collecting himself again, reaching for pieces of his brain he left on all the sheets drenched with his come.

He’s on cloud nine, this was most probably the best sex of his life, the way Vale knows exactly what to do, when to do it, what to say.

God half the things Vale said came steight out of a porno cause that shit was just too out of this world to e otherwise.

He feels Vale getting up from the bed, the room seems filled with tension, not the one from before, a different kind of it.

He slowly props himself up on his elbows, his ass is sore, not just for the roughness of Vale’s thrusts, but also the hard grip the man held on his cheeks the whole time.

He’s sticky, and smells of sex in a way that could get him hard again in a few minutes.

 A warm washcloth lands on his chest, and when he turns towards the direction Vale went to, his private bathroom he realises, he only sees the man’s back as he puts his boxers back on, not bothering to even look in his direction.

“That was -”

“A mistake. This uh this was a mistake. Clean yourself up and just - go”

“Vale what do you mean”

“This shouldn’t have happened, I - this was wrong”

“But”

“No buts Bez, I shouldn’t have told you yes, you were a stupid horny mistake, and I’m not gonna make it last”

Bez feels numbness taking over his brain, a feeling of not belonging slowly making its way in his body.

“This” Vale turns around for the first time after they finished, gesturing vaguely at the sheets and Bez himself. “all this never happened, you got it? It never happened and it will never happen again”

Bez is on the verge of a breakdown, but Vale doesn’t seem to notice, and just keeps on talking.

“If you talk about this to anyone I’m ruined you get it? When you’re done cleaning yourself up just dress back up and go home”

Vale sits up once again, leaving the bedroom in a half rush, Bez is alone.

Alone in the huge bed they just shared, alone and surrounded by the white sheets who saw him give his body and mind to someone he thought was right, to someone with which he thought he could’ve actually built something.

Bez is certainly not new to the concept of one night stands or internalised homophobia of his hook ups but Vale?

Vale is very open with the academy about the fact he fuck both guys and girls whenever the occasion arises, so this is not the second case.

And it would’ve been fine if it was just a one night stand, more than he could’ve wished for, but the way in which Vale had treated it, like it was something to be ashamed of, made his brain flood with thoughts he didn’t want to have.

“You were a stupid horny mistake”

He was a mistake. A stupid one even. A horny one.

Vale had called him a mistake.

Mistake.

The word rolls around his mind like a crazy ball, bouncing around hitting his temples and echoing repeatedly.

It’s not like he’s never been used for his body before, he had that guy, the one who only called on saturdays, which just used him to fuck, and it was very clear.

It had hurt Bez, to be seen as a thing from which to get pleasure rather than a person.

He thought that guy was the last one to see him as that.

But clearly he was wrong.

He had given himself to Vale with such love and admiration he couldn’t have expected to receive disgust and resentment in return.

He’s crying now, still sticky with cum and dressed like that.

He wants to carve a hole in the ground and get swallowed by it, needs to get out without being seen by anyone.

He cleans himself up, trying to kill the tears who’ve already made their way out his eyes.

It’s difficult, he feels guilty and just wants to be held by someone and sleep.

But the someone he would want to be held by just told him to go away and that he was a mistake.

So he puts back on his top, and looks in the mirror. 

He looks ridiculous he thinks, he’s got ripped fishnets and panties under a short skirt which won’t do anything to cover him and a stupid glittery top.

His attempt at a lipstick is smeared on the left side of his mouth, red and almost clownish he thinks.

His hair are ruffled and messy, he looks everything but what he wants to be right now.

Once he convinces himself that staying here won’t have Vale magically rethink how disgusting he is Bez gets out the bedroom, walking quick towards the main door.

He bumps into Vale on his way out, and keeps his eyes fixated to the ground.

“Sorry I - I’m going. Goodnight Vale”

He doesn’t wait for a response, he knows there won’t be one.

He just walks out the house into the starry night, trying to find some comfort in the warmth it offers.

He doesn’t even have a bike, he came here with a taxi, but can’t bring himself to be seen by someone in the state he’s in, so he just decides to walk back to his hotel.

Luckily he knows the way, his phone is dead and pretty useless.

He walks with shame, a few cars passing by, not paying him the slightest attention.

Until one car slows down, almost stopping, and he does everything but look into that car.

The window gets lowered and a man around 50 years old pops his head out of the car.

“Hey pretty boy care for some fun? Me and my friends could pay you well for it”

There’s laughter coming from inside the vehicle and Bez just keeps walking, he knows the hotel isn’t far, it’s just two minutes away.

“Oh are you deaf? What you think we can’t pay you? Surely the last guy that went with you had his fun eh? How much did he pay? we can offer the double”

Bez wants to die, this is not how he thought his night would go, it makes him feel dirty.

“Ah fuck you I bet you’re just a cheap whore who can’t even do his job right”

And with that they speed off again, Bez trying to keep himself sane long enough to walk inside the hotel looking like this, and getting into the elevator too.

He prays for it to be empty until he reaches his floor, and for once the universe seems to be listening to him tonight. 

He gets into his room and locks the door behind him, sliding down with his back against it.

His legs hurt, his head does too, everything fucking hurts so much.

He finally breaks down, a flow of tears making their unstoppable way down his cheeks to the ground.

He manages to get up from the floor after a good twenty minutes spent crying.

He feels pathetic.

He manages to reach the bathroom and undress himself, he looks in the mirror as he does, and it’s a fatal error.

He is disgusted by what he sees in there, he wants to destroy whatever that mirror is making him see. He throws the fucking glass used to hold the toothbrush at it, cracking it severely.

“Fucking whore! You’re just a fucking whore! No one is ever gonna see you as anything else because you are just that! You disgust me I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you! Look at yourself dressed like that! You’re only good to fuck, no one is going to keep you for something beside it, you deserve to be treated like this”

He’s talking to himself, he’s never- never had this much hatred for his own body and mind in his life, he just feels so horribly wrong for what he did, how he acted, what he said.

“I hate you”

This last one is said with tears coming out his eyes again, a stingy sensation in his throat.

He takes off everything, throws in the trash the whole fucking outfit, he wants to burn it.

He gets into the shower, turning it on and letting the water run down his body, still and absent.

His knees give out and he finds himself to be sat on the wet floor of the shower, the flow of water hasn’t stopped, it drenches him from head to toe.

He needs to wash himself, he feels so dirty from what he did. He needs the water to wash away tonight, to wash away Valentino.

mistake

that fucking word just keeps repeating itself in his brain like a mantra.

mistake mistake mistake 

“you were a stupid horny mistake”

he keeps on crying, salty tears mixing with the shower water on his face.

He tries to scratch his skin away, wants to tear off all the skin that was touched tonight, he has to be freed from the touch of Vale.

But for how much he tries to clean away his body he still feels dirty, guilty of getting out there dressed like that and not expecting someone to use him.

He feels at fault, like he should lock himself at home and never get seen again.

Shame.

Shame all over his mind like a suffocating blanket.

“You disgust me I hate you”

the only receiver of this insults it’s him, he truly feels like this.

It’s his fault if Vale fallen into the temptation of fucking one of his students, his fault if now Vale questioned his morals, his fault if it ever got out and Vale would be publicly slaughtered.

He wouldn’t allow that to happen, he’d come forward and say he got advantage of the fact Vale was drunk.

Even after how Vale treated him he would protect him.

It’s all his fault, once again, like always.

He falls asleep in the shower, water freezing, he doesn’t care.

He just needs to rest, he can’t even hate himself being like this.

[emily-mooon]

ST x ‘In Another Universe’ Text Posts (pt.1?)

[seaghosst]

we need to stop characterizing misako as a terrible mom and instead hate dr julien for deadbeat and leaving echo in that damn lighthouse

[rapidhighway]

K I've been thinking about this for like a week now. Ignoring any immortal headcanons if you have them. Knuckles knows he's not going to be able to guard the Master Emerald forever and that probably troubles him, but, if he was dying do you think he'd ask Sonic to guard it? He's the person with a unique connection to Chaos and the Chaos Emeralds and he's basically chosen one the most specialest guy, and one of the few people Knuckles could trust with that duty.

Of course I think Sonic would say no. I think he'd never be able to do that and he wouldn't want to.

[eitaababe]

do you guys ever search up angst and then like read a really sad story and ur like THIS WAS SO SAD WTF??? as if you didn't fucking search for this shit

[6flyingosprey6]

QSMP Eggs and what Percy Jackson cabins I think they belong in

Chayanne- Poseidon

Dapper- Hecate

Leo- Iris

Ramon- Hephaestus

Juanaflippa- Nemesis

Bobby- Ares

Tilin- Aphrodite

Trump- Hypnos

Tallulah- Apollo

Richarlyson- Demeter

Pomme- Hades

Empanada- Athena

Sunny- Nike

Pepito- Hebe

Chunsik- Tyche

Nacho- Dionysus

[terrapin-might]

Guys my computer crashed so hard I almost cried

luckily it's fine (for now...) If this computer goes kaput I'm done for, so it's taking a little break. Just text post for a minute I guess

Anyway here's Casey having a no good terrible very bad day cause he's having visions he's (almost) helpless to stop (yippee!)

Will definitely be redrawing this, it was a random doodle but I can definitely make it good, I see the vision (heh get it?)

With my computer almost on the fritz these are traditional except for the Casey drawing I made it a week ago, feels good to draw traditionally again but not when I'm forced to (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

ESPECIALLY WHEN MY CAMERA SUCKS ALL KINDS OF ASS Y'ALL I'M

I have to redo these digitally, they're already pretty good BUT YOU CAN'T FUCKING SEE THAT ARGH MY NEED FOR PERFECTION IS FROTHING AT MOUTH IN ANGUISH—

Anyhoo, The lovely @inkyrainstorms asked me to tag them when I made art of this little idea of mind so here you go! (Sorry the Leo ones are so blurry 🥲) If any of you wanna be tagged next time as well you can ask, I don't mind :)

And if you have any ideas on what I can name this au please tell me, remember it's inspired by Epic the musical and The prophet Cassandra so anything related to those are definitely welcome!

Also guys while looking at epic animatics for inspiration I found a rise animatic to horse and the infant! Can't believe this amazing person stole my idea 11 months before I thought about it :(/j

Their name is @/heishikeki here on Tumblr and heishi_keki on youtube where I found their awesome animatic, if you like rise and epic please give it a watch it's so good 🙏🏾

[hyperfixiation-station]

Family Man

I saw another tumblr post that inspired this but I can't find it now so if someone could like tag them below that'd be great :)

Simon Riley was a family man. Giving his family chance after chance when they didn't deserve it. Sacrificing his career and personal life to help his mother and brother out of the hole they dug themselves into. Throwing his father out  after he threatened those he loved. Being best man at his brothers wedding. Being the a great uncle to a nephew he adored. Being a better man than his father.

Simon Riley was a family man. Going back home despite enduring months of torture that did nothing but remind him of the way he grew up.  Choosing revenge instead of death when he found the family he had rebuilt slaughtered at the hands of his enemy. Slaughtering everyone that stood in between him and revenge.

Simon Riley was a family man. Simon Riley died with his brother, mother, and nephew. Simon Riley was buried alive in another mans coffin. Simon Riley killed himself when he killed Roba. Simon Riley is dead and gone.

Simon Riley was a family man. Ghost was not. Simon Riley died next to his brother and mother. Ghost emerged from the ashes. Simon Riley was buried 6 feet under. Ghost came crawling out the top. Simon Riley entered Roba's mansion. Ghost was who Shepard met when he left.

Ghost was not a family man. Ghost pretended Simon Riley was dead, buried along side his tormentor.  He had built a dam around his heart, holing Simon Riley up inside.

A little girl in a Ukrainian school made the wall around his heart chip, her innocent brown eyes and missing front tooth so like another child Ghost once knew. He teary eyes hurt him inside, and he found himself telling his story to the children and the terrorists as they waited for extraction.

John Price, a soldier a few years older than himself, is the first to force his way into Ghost heart. With his willingness to bend and break the rules to do what needs to be done, unquestioning acceptance of Ghost's actions, he wins Ghosts, and by extension Simon Riley's, trust.

A Roach worms his way into Ghost's heart next. Much like Ghost, the little bug rarely shows his face, and talks even less. Ghost find's him a kindred spirit of sorts. His rescue of Price was enough to permanently cement his spot in Ghost's inner circle.

Kyle Garrick is next, pulling at Ghost's heartstrings with his light-hearted banter and teasing personality. His actions and words remind Ghost so much of a brother from another life.

Ghost was not a family man. Ghost left Simon Riley lying on the floor of his brothers home. Ghost fought his way out of a grave, leaving Simon Riley under the ground. Ghost walked out of Roba's mansion, leaving Simon Riley with a bullet in his brain. Ghost rose from the ashes, leaving Simon Riley for dead.

John MacTavish brings Simon Riley back to life. Unlike the others, who hesitantly chipped away at Ghost's icy exterior, Soap comes in swinging. Armed with nothing but an uncaring attitude and a sniper rifle, he barges into Ghosts life and demolishes the walls he's built.

His Scottish accent and quick mind call to Ghost in a nothing has since the night he buried Simon Riley for good. His good-natured teasing and simultaneous defense of Ghost's odd behaviors endear Soap to him.

When Soap enters the cartel's house, unarmed and alone, Ghost feels fear in a way he hasn't since coming back to a dark and desolate home all those years ago. The feeling of relief is so sweet he can almost taste it when Soap is in sight again.

Just a few short hours later Simon Riley is pushing hard at the barrier holding him back. Despite the lies, despite the deceit, despite the betrayal, Simon Riley is fighting for his chance to live again. For once, Ghost doesn't push him back down, too focused on talking Johnny through making out of enemy territory alive.

Ghost swore to never again utter the words Simon Riley, swore to leave him dead and buried, swore to never open himself up to be hurt like that again, but John MacTavish lays all those plans to rest. Simon Riley claws his way out of Ghost's heart in the same way the latter once crawled his way out of Simon Riley's grave as Soap fights his way through a city full of hostiles to get to them.

And on a dark night in a church building in Mexico, Simon Riley is reborn.

Forgive the quality, I sat down and wrote this for like 2 hours straight and did zero revisions. Do I know where I was going with this? No. does it make sense? probably not. Did I say I was going to publish the next part of Choices, Choices, Choices? Yes. Am I posting this instead? Also yes.

[damconcha]

My genuine reaction reading the Siblings chapter from @hyperbolicreverie ‘s fanfic

[rexscanonwife]

I'm a little sleep deprived and it's late but never underestimate to make any media angsty 0_0

But there's so much mystery behind Sportacus, his upbringing, and the 9 previous heroes before him. We don't really know anything about it but it seems to be (at least among fans) passed down GENERATIONALLY through a family tree, and you gotta imagine it's something that's trained into them from a young age.

Idk I was just watching the show and thinking about how sweet and playful Sportacus is 🥺🥺💖💖 he's always going along with the kids' games and such, it kinda makes me wonder if he likes to join them because he didn't really have anyone to play with while he was growing up.

[specialshinytrinkets]

The funniest part about my OCs is that, out of all characters, Kee has the most normal parents (others I just didn't get much into-)

Like. There are three somewhat main characters: Derres, Lioo and Kee (like Sonic the Hedgehog). There's also Ies, but her deal is kind of Complicated™, since they're not quite. Someone to have parents. Cuz. She's a demon-

But anyways (warning for death mention):

Derres doesn't want to remember his parents much to not let the grief and trauma resurface, but he idolises them a lot. However, his speech about them is more often than not very... vague, prioritising the feeling of him missing their company than any specific memory. And I don't blame him, because, if you actually dig in, there aren't many niceties to remember! Being a witcher in a secluded place, from a dynasty of sorts, it was inevitable that a lot of responsibility would be put onto him, especially considering he is the youngest, most recent holder of the amplifiers. So, the pressure resulted in an odd dynamic where young Derres knew that he is loved (he must be loved), but would dismiss his own feelings to prioritise what is important, so that he would be given attention (the way to earn love). Of course, it does not mean the parents were cold to him all the time, but it was not an ideal dynamic. And sadly, one that could not be prevented or, at least, mended. Not now...

Lioo, on the other hand, despises her mom, namely because of how she handled her proposal to become Derres' apprentice. Now, obviously, she was 18 when she left home to do what she wanted, so you need to take this with a grain - or a cup - of salt. However, her decision had somewhat reasonable roots: she saw how much Derres provided for the community, stressing himself out every day, and wanted to easen up his job. Her mom did not take it well, though, shutting down the idea at every possibility. Think of "Blow My Brains Out" by Tikkle Me, specifically the chorus (lyrics):

Lucky is she who lives unaware Doesn't get bothered by those who don't care Lucky is she who lives unaware Who doesn't get bothered by all that's unfair Unlucky me who knows way too much Who fights to make changes and music and such Unlucky me, aware of the pain All 'cause I happen to have some brain

Mixing together teenager maximalism and seeing the indifferent response to trying to fix the issue is bound to create fire. And it wasn't put out, even after drowning. In fact... The rift deepened. Since, who else can be blamed for your daughter's death, but the man who "took her away with witchcraft"? Who else can be yelled at for ruining your child? For making a deal with a demon? Who else?

And then we have Kee, who has been fully supported by his parents throughout his entire life. Said parents tried their best to help him adjust to the prosthetics and reach out when their son suddenly isolated himself and left the city. He's gonna regret that, alright.

All in all, very funny how the guy you'd expect to have fucked up upbringing actually has it fine, he just got hurt much later in life than the rest, hence why his coping isn't very good. And well. We are witnessing it in real time, and not as a memory. Trauma is messy