#{ Let me know if this doesn't work or if you need anything changed! }

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Been writing a lot about us being the scary ones in the neighborhood, and I love those. But for a change of pace, could you perhaps please write smth about the reader being scared and looking to the puppets for comfort/protection? Thank you!

Added Sally to this because I need to give her more attention.

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Sally and Wally when the Reader is afraid

Sally

★ When she sees you looking scared, her first instinct is to laugh it off. Surely you were just acting? Right? But then your hands start to shake like a leaf. And your eyes aren't meeting hers. Then she realizes, this is real.

★ You panic behind the curtain. Away from prying eyes. Sally doesn't know what to do. For a minute she paces while thinking. Trying to come up with a solution to this problem. Unaware that some things aren't that simple.

★ She pulls you into a hug. "Do you need anything? Tea? A blanket?" While she speaks, she feels you trembling slightly. What on Earth could've scared you so? You're supposed to be the scary one. Being a human with sharp teeth and claws.

Wally

★ Home is the best place to be in this situation. The door locks as soon as you enter. And as you cower in the corner, a curtain moves to drape across your shoulder. Home trying its best to comfort you. A sympathetic *tap tap tap* sound coming from the window.

★ If Wally is inside, Home "fetches" him. Letting him know you need some help. There's something pitiful about seeing you like this. Silently breaking in a corner like a scared child. When Wally finds you, he's taken aback.

★ He's not used to seeing you like this, and doesn't speak right away. He simply sits besides you. Not touching. Just there. Before asking "Neighbor?" Softly. If you reach out, he'll hold your hand with a light grip. Trying to ground you.

★ On the outside he looks calm. Internally, Wally is panicking. Trying to think of something that would scare you so much. He wants to ask what happened. He wants to fix this. But he doesn't know what words to say. So he says nothing. 

[sad-girl-hours23]

Tagged by @ambernotember for tidbit tuesday. Thank you darling <3

I still don't quite know what this is...I'm making it up as I go along in bits and pieces. So this is unedited. And sometime after this snippet. I guess I should eventually come up with a working title for this.

Traffic is surprisingly light on the way to the farmers market and the weather is cool enough that Tommy's driving with the windows down. Buck looks over at Tommy—just as he has every few miles of the trip—and watches the wind push back his curls. If Tommy's noticed, he hasn't let on.

Buck looks away and doesn't bother trying to suppress his smile or the warmth that had been steadily growing in him since this morning. It was a feeling that he didn't quite dare yet to call hope. He'd woken up feeling more rested than he had in months, Tommy had presented him with coffee and pastries from their favorite cafe down the street, and then he'd asked Buck if he wanted to run errands with him.

The farmers market is just up ahead when "Dancing in the Dark" comes on the radio. All at once Buck is 26 and singing along to Bruce Springsteen with his captain in a crowded arena. He had no idea what Bobby would come to mean to him. He almost envied that Buck. Before his thoughts can spiral, he moves to change the radio station, only to find himself anchored in place. "Uh, Tommy?"

Tommy keeps his eyes on the road, but he leans toward Buck as he says, "hmm?"

"We're holding hands."

A faint smile lifts the corner of Tommy's mouth. "Yes we are."

"Why are we holding hands?"

Tommy isn't even looking at Buck, but he still feels the full effect of his cunty eyebrow raise. "You tell me."

Buck flushes at the implication—he must have grabbed Tommy's hand on instinct, probably before they even left the driveway. He doesn't know how he didn't notice before. He untangles their fingers and feels hollow for it—without the weight and warmth of Tommy's hand in his, it's like he could just float away. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Tommy pulls into a parking spot and turns off the truck. He looks at Buck with a soft smile and shrugs. "I just thought you needed someone to hold your hand."

The gentleness in Tommy's voice does nothing to help the lump forming in Buck's throat. He knows without a doubt, he could reach for Tommy's hand again and be met halfway. Tommy would probably hold his hand while they walked through the market if Buck asked.

And he just doesn't know what to do with that.

Open tag if it's still Tuesday where you are ^_^ or I guess for WIP Wednesday <3

[deepinthegroves]

Sooo school is reopening in like 6 days and I'm not ready I'll never be pleasee id rather jump off a cliff than go to school.. do you've any tips?? Like anything? to shift or simply just manifest schools being closed

okay first off, can i just say real. so real. my school is restarting 6 days too actually. and i just burned my finger doing a school project. so. that sentiment is felt. random dumping aside, i'll get into it.

as for shifting, just remember that you can do it whenever and however. all you need is the assumption that you're there. whether you shift now or a minute before you step into the school grounds, it doesn't matter. you'll shift if that's what you want to do.

what i do know however, is that the deadline and subsequent pressure on shifting sucks and may cause you to overthink etc. etc. (because it does for me sigh) so here's a little reminder that you can shift right this second or the next. and like i mentioned before, you could shift now or right before school starts, it doesn't matter. don't let the pressure get to you. you can shift. it's easy, i promise.

or if you want to manifest for your school to be closed, you can do that too! whether it's a sudden change to home-based learning, or you just wanting to avoid school altogether and have a longer holiday, that's up to you. just remember: it doesn't need to "make sense" – you can have a reason in mind as to how it'd work out or don't. either way, your end result will happen. because you decided it will.

good luck (not that you really need it) and may you not attend school <3

[slowdancingalien]

supernatural scents NOW chop chop

jeez, okay okay..

Supernatural characters and their scents! (All my opinion, don't get mad at me if you disagree)

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ᯓ✧Dean Winchester

I think people don't get him like I do (as his kinnie). People say he smells like whiskey. No no. He smells like beer and there's a difference. And it isn't expensive beer. This man hustles pool tables and does credit card scams. It's cheap beer.

And he smells like old leather. New leather has such a strong smell. I walked into a store at the mall that was selling leather jackets and that's all I could smell. It's old, a bit faded but you can smell it if you huffed him enough.

Cheap beer and old leather is Dean.

ᯓ✧ Sam Winchester

To me? Sam has this cologne he wears that Jess gave him. Not cheap but not too entirely expensive. Affordable. Cederwood mixed with hints of ginger.

When Jess died, he grasped at anything he could to remember her by. That simple cologne she bought him was one of the many things. He always buys it. Always.

Cedarwood and Ginger is Sam.

Castiel

We all know and we all agree that Castiel smells like honey because he loves bees. Of course, that is the easy way to go. Agree with everyone. But I also believe there are hints of lemon mixed in.

Honey is warm. And I believe Castiel is the same if you've read my headcanons. And with the added lemon, it'll bring out the scent altogether.

Honey and lemon is Castiel

Bobby Singer

Many people say Bobby smells like old books. Fair. But he owns a salvage yard. He's gonna smell like a mechanic.

Car oil has a strong scent. And it lingers on Bobby no matter how hard he tries to get it off. It doesn't work. It's like Subway. It's hard to get rid of the smell of Subway.

Now this is also a man who drinks beer. But it's not as cheap as Dean's, considering he has a real job that pays him.

Car oil and beer is Bobby Singer

Crowley Macleod

Now this is a man who has expensive alcohol. And let's not forget his roots. He was born Scottish but raised British. And with that accounted for, he smells like a malt scotch whiskey. Aged over forty years at the minimum.

Crowley also smells smokey. Not like fire. Like smoke. And I am not normal about his scent at all. I need him to scent me.

Malt scotch whiskey and smoke is Crowley

Gabriel

His scent changes too much to put a pin on it. As the janitor in Tall Tales, he smelled like cleaner and possibly bleach. When he showed up in mystery spot, he smelled like greasy diner food. In changing channels, he smells sterile. Hammer of gods, he had to smell the best he could to try and get Kali back, wearing expensive cologne. In Montel Carlo, living lavishly and buried in his own lust, he smelled like a mix of his expensive cologne and sex. Then came the torture times where he smelled like charred flesh and pennies.

But throughout all of those scentful times.. there was one thing that stuck to him. No matter how strong the other scents were, it was always pure sugar. No matter if everyone found out that he wasn't a trickster. He still liked candy a little too much.

Pure sugar is Gabriel

Jody Mills

Now, Jody has a fresh laundry smell to her. But specifically, laundry that has been air-dried on a clothesline on a sunny day. So not only is it warmed up by the sun, it also smells like outside and laundry detergent. Delicious

But obviously I like to mix my scents. And this is a weird mix. And a weird second descriptor. Yes, she smells like fresh laundry from a clothesline on a sunny day. But her hands? Reek of gun oil. And it is just her hands.

Fresh laundry from a clothesline on a sunny day and gun oil is Jody

Donna Hanscum

DONNA!!!! Okay so, Donna to me smells like mandarin orange massage oils. Because the first time we meet Donna is in a health spa. I still like to believe that after learning of supernatural stuff, she still goes to spas and massages often because she deserves it. And that's the oil she picks everytime.

And to me, if she's gonna use a perfume, she's gonna use something like jasmine.

Mandarin orange massage oil and jasmine is Donna

Adam Milligan

I can't explain it. It just is. Adam smells like the ocean. And with Michael coinciding with Adam, there are warm undertones to that. Not warm like Castiel. Michael is an archangel. He's going to have way more grace than Castiel could ever dream of. So it's not a soft warm like Cas. It's almost searing hot. Almost.

And after escaping hell with Michael, he still has a slight ocean-y scent to him, but he also smells smokey as well. Spending a long LONG time in hell can make you smell like that.

The ocean with warm undertones and smoke is Adam Milligan

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┊ ┊ ⋆˚         

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⋆ ★

A/N: If you want a part two, I am so willing to make another part!

Tags:

[golden-loona]

the wrong guy. | one shot

summary: taehyung and y/n hatch a plan to kidnap their local rich guy.

pairing: oc x taehyung x jungkook

words: 2,332

warnings: fake gun, kidnapping, implied threats.

y/n and taehyung have had enough of being broke. like "prepared to commit crime or sell a kidney" broke.

they're absolutely sick of scraping by with ramen and cheap, watery coffees. even splitting the rent with their roommate hoseok doesn't change anything. so? they're making a plan. a shit one, but its a plan.

"okay so, notes" y/n begins, holding a notepad and a black ink pen. preparing to write whatever bullshit plan herself and taehyung were about to concoct.

"we need to find like a.. local rich dude, preferably not too hench," taehyung begins, y/n starts writing away but stops. "hench?"

"yeah like, buff? he could fight us off" taehyung says pointedly, y/n raises an eyebrow. "but its 2 versus 1?" she remarks. taehyung points to her and then himself. "girl.. look at us, you really think we could fight off against a hench guy?" taehyung makes a valid point, y/n nods in agreement and writes it down.

they bicker back and forth for a while, discussing local rich guys and attempt (keyword: attempt) to come up with a plan to kidnap said rich guy. "how much ransom are we asking?" taehyung asks with furrowed brows as his eyes go over the notes.

"what's his net worth?" y/n responds and taehyung nods, "good point, let me google."

a quick google search shows kim seokjin is very well off. taehyung and y/n could only dream of that in their bank accounts. would be a lot better than the 20,000 won they have between them. "he lives local doesn't he? we could try and follow his routine and it'll make things easier" taehyung suggests and y/n's eyes light up.

the following week is a busy mess. taehyung and y/n taking turns following the fuck out of kim seokjin. weirdos.

monday? y/n calls in sick to work and takes the bus to hanam. an area notoriously known for its high profile people. (the richies.) there she starts to follow seokjin on his route, going to a gym in the local estate. that motherfuck walks there too, is he that stupid? what an easy grab. with her notepad to hand, y/n takes notes like a she's nancy drew.

tuesday? it's taehyung's turn, he skips class to follow seokjin and his routine is.. pretty much the same. apart from a car ride he had to follow on a rented bike. his knees will never be the same. gym, coffee shop, the office for a meeting (maybe) and then back home. then a restaurant, then the gym again and then back home. easy. notes taken.

wednesday? the fucking same, what the fuck. y/n is slightly pissed, can't believe she missed work for this shit. same notes, same places. what a boring life.

thursday? taehyung's turn again. a busier day for kim seokjin, he attends a charity event (whoopee.) and taehyung is turned away from the red carpet by security. notes go down the drain.

friday? the same as tuesday, seokjin goes about his day and its just.. absolutely predictable. y/n is disappointed.

saturday comes and its an easy fucking job for y/n and taehyung.

"i think we take him when he's on his way home from the gym" y/n suggests, tapping her pen against the notepad. her head resting against her hand on the desk. "morning or night?" taehyung asks, y/n rolls her eyes. "taehyung we watch true crime documentaries all the time, you should know its easy to get them at night," y/n explains and taehyung nods in agreement.

"right, what are our disguises?" y/n groans at taehyung's words. "i didn't think about that." then the list begins. gloves. balaclavas. black clothing. rope, maybe? or are cable ties better? a burner phone for the ransom text. a getaway car, they could just borrow yoongi's maybe?

and just like that, the plan is set in motion.

take yoongi's car to the estate seokjin lives in. wait near the gym. wait for him to leave (he usually leaves around 11.30pm) skrrrt up next to him, open the car door and push his ass in. fuck, they need a weapon.

"we need something to threaten him with, i forgot about that" y/n says with a sigh of frustration, taehyung falls back onto y/n's bed with a groan. "i'm too coward to hold a knife with intent," taehyung admits. y/n nods her head in agreement. what follows is silence as the two both sit and just think, trying to come up with any ideas whatsoever.

"doesn't namjoon have that fake gun he used for the police outfit one halloween?" y/n asks after a couple of minutes. taehyung sits up suddenly, "oh my god you're a fucking genius!" he says with a grin. "call namjoon and ask if you can borrow the costume, make up some excuse" y/n says, throwing taehyung his phone, to which he unlocks immediately.

on monday evening taehyung walks into the house with namjoon's police officer costume, fake gun included, a wide victorious grin on his face.

on tuesday night, they put their plan into action. having given some bullshit excuse to yoongi, they borrow his car. clad in all black outfits, black gloves on their hands and balaclavas at the ready. they park up close to the gym in the estate that the one and only kim seokjin lives in. now? they wait.

the clock ticks and ticks, taehyung has his feet resting on the dashboard while he (miserably) fails to complete a sudoku in a newspaper.

y/n sips her iced coffee, eyes on the doors of the gym. the only lights on are those by the entrance, there's no view into the actual gym. which fucking sucks. y/n taps her fingers on the wheel with a sigh.

"3 here, wait.. no a 4" taehyung voices as he replaces the 3 with a 4 on the paper. y/n raises a brow and side eyes him before rolling her eyes. "can you focus?" she asks with a sharp exhale.

"its only 11, we got like 30 minutes" taehyung voices as he focuses on the sudoku, pen to paper scribbling out a wrong number.

with an annoyed grunt, y/n keeps her eyes on the gym entrance. occasionally sipping her coffee and looking around. it's pitch black outside, beside the street light and the bright fluorescent lights of the gym entrance. automatic double doors closed with the lack of presence. the minutes tick by, one by one. slow as fuck.

"stakeouts are boring, i don't know how the police do it" y/n complains with pursed lips, arms crossed against her ribs as she continues to watch the entrance like a hawk.

"yes! wait no," taehyung's win ends quickly as his eyes scan the sudoku, y/n rolls her eyes yet again. "let me see it," y/n attempts to grab the newspaper to take a look herself but taehyung snatches it back. "no! i worked hard on it" he argues, y/n kisses her teeth.

"clearly not well enough, let me see," she remarks, trying to grab at it again. a squabble ensues until a figure appears in the lights of the gym entrance.

"wait look! it's time," y/n says quickly, completely dropping the sudoku squabble and pulling a balaclava over her head. she hurriedly makes it comfortable on her face before starting the car. taehyung pulls his own balaclava over his head, grabbing the fake gun from the back seat.

"ready?" y/n asks, looking at him. taehyung swallows harshly and nods, y/n puts the car into gear and pushes it forward towards where a man has just left the gym. it's 11.30pm. definitely kim seokjin.

quickly pulling up beside the man, taehyung rushes out and points the fake gun at the figure. it happens quickly.

"put your hands up!" taehyung says loudly, pointing the gun at the figure. fuck, its dark. he can't even see properly through this mask. the man immediately puts his hand up in surrender, taehyung grabs the mans wrist and pulls him toward the car. the barrel of the (fake) gun pressed to the man's back.

"do as we say and we won't hurt you" taehyung attempts to say in a menacing voice, he opens the door for the backseat and pushes the man into the car before closing the door and getting into the passenger seat. y/n puts her foot on the gas and they speed off into the night with their local rich man in the backseat.

taehyung keeps his (fake) gun pointed at the man and the man is.. surprisingly quiet. shockingly not fighting them off or begging for his life. y/n drives out of the estate and toward their apartment. keeping her eye on seokjin in the backseat through the rearview mirror.

it's when the light hits his face that she does a double take. her jaw fucking drops.

"taehyung," y/n says flatly, jaw clenched. taehyung, still in character as john wick from wish, isn't listening. with a slap to the arm she repeats his name in a harsher tone, "taehyung"

"what?" he finally responds, "that's not seokjin!" y/n says alertedly, pulling her balaclava off her head and throwing it into taehyung's lap.

"seokjin? the business guy?" the man in the back says before snorting a laugh. taehyung quickly pulls up his balaclava, taking a look at the man in the backseat. he turns forward in his seat with his mouth agape. "oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" taehyung murmurs.

"what the fuck, taehyung?! you had ONE job" y/n argues, panic rushing through her body. she goes rigid because what the FUCK.

"i'm sorry! its dark and the mask was small," taehyung complains defensively, covering his face with his hands. "oh we're going to prison."

the man in the backseat throws his head back with a low chuckle, he enjoys the chaos happening in the front seat. honestly? his day got better rather than worse.

"sir, we are so, so, sorry" y/n immediately apologises, looking at him through the rearview mirror. "i've been kidnapped by worse people," his words make y/n and taehyung side eye each other.

"uh, cause that's not terrifying" taehyung mumbles, sinking a little in his seat. the man leans forward from the backseat, getting a little closer to them between them. y/n gulps quietly, keeping her eyes trained on the road ahead.

"now why don't you drop me off somewhere and we can forget all about this?" the man suggests, looking between them. he easily notices the way his kidnappers refuse to look at him, a smirk of amusement on his face.

"sure, wherever you wanna go" taehyung agrees immediately, y/n shakes her head in disagreement. "hell no, he could be a snitch" she argues, hands 10 to 2 on the wheel.

"wait, whats your job? are you rich?" taehyung asks, the man looks at him with a face of confusion and then the realisation hits. they were looking for a ransom.

he falls back into the backseat again, chuckling in absolute amusement. "seriously? you were trying to kidnap kim seokjin of all people for fucking ransom?" he remarks, y/n and taehyung stay silent. the man shakes his head and sighs, a smile on his face.

"you two are so stupid," he remarks, earning defensive noises from the front seats. "you don't even know us!" taehyung argues, waving around the fake gun. the man rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

"first of all, you kidnapped the wrong guy. second, you kidnapped me with a fake gun at that, i was not intimidated in the slightest, if i didn't want to be kidnapped i'd of put you on your ass," the man exclaims, easily taking the fake gun out of taehyung's hand. taehyung lips press in a pout.

"who are you anyway?" y/n asks with a offended tone, still driving aimlessly with no clue in her mind where to fucking go. "jeon jungkook," taehyung goes rigid hearing the name and sinks further in his seat.

"oh we're so dead," he whispers, "my family are going to report me missing," taehyung fake sniffles into his hands.

"don't panic, i'll make sure your families have bodies to bury, jungkook says with a smirk, taehyung looks at y/n and they collectively start yelling.

"this is all your fucking fault!-" "you suggested kidnapping a rich guy!" "-kidnapping the wrong fucking guy" "it was your idea!" "how can you not recognise kim fucking seokjin?!"

jungkook chuckles in the backseat, completely and utterly satisfied with the chaos he's caused his kidnappers. "i'm kidding! i'm kidding," he calls out, tapping the necks of the front seats.

y/n and taehyung go silent. "mostly."

y/n turns the car around, silently driving right back to where they had taken jungkook from. the air is thick with a heated tension. and not the sexy kind. the i'm-scared-for-my-life kind. after a few minutes of silence, taehyung switches the radio on, the melody of "bad day" by daniel powter coming through the speaker.

y/n looks at taehyung with slight disgust, "dude, really?" taehyung scoffs and turns the radio back off. "it's too silent," he complains like a child. "do you want music, jungkook?" taehyung turns slightly in his seat, y/n smacks his chest eliciting a loud "ow!" from taehyung.

"i would love some music," jungkook voices with a smirk, taehyung turns the radio back on with a grateful smile. the silence is way too sickening.

its a rough fucking 15 minutes driving back to that gym. jungkook has a sick smirk on his face in the backseat, taehyung is quietly singing along like nothing is fucking wrong. is y/n the only sane one in this car?

with a sigh of gratefulness that this is over, y/n pulls up outside the gym and puts the car in park. pressing the child lock button off, y/n turns in her seat to look at jungkook.

"i apologise again," y/n says with an apologetic, pleading glint in her eyes. jungkook snorts a laugh and opens the door to get out.

"i'll be in touch."

a/n: hehehe this was funny

masterlist

golden-loona 2025

[rainandsentences]

The space between

a Luca x f!reader

synopsis: You don't understand your constant anger, you don't let anyone approach but somehow you could see how people notice, how he notices.

rating: 16+

word count: 1.3 k

warnings: mention of implied past sexual abuse

a/n: this is the first part of three that i have planned. i understand somehow the pain that comes with locking traumas, specially such as grooming and sexual abuse. i want to express how the topic can affect on the victim even years later, i know each individual is different and each of us deal with it in also different ways. i want to comfort myself and also others that unfortunately might relate with it.

you're so strong, don't forget it. ❤️‍🩹

——————————————————————————

Most of the time you weren’t trying to get the attention. You were always the quiet girl that sat on the corner. So, most of your life was focused on being the best at whatever you did. That was your way of standing out, to be noticeable. That brought you there, one of the best restaurants of high quality in all of Copenhagen.

You’re not mean.

But most people wouldn’t believe that.

They think you are — sharp-tongued, stiff-backed, untouchable. Firm and always giving the orders as you should.

You’re not trying to change their perspective either. It’s easier, in some messed-up way, to be seen as cold than to be seen as scared. Because scared invites questions. And you’ve spent years building your silence like a shelter. It’s ugly, maybe. But it’s safe.

Mostly.

So, when you were transferred to another restaurant and met your coworkers you couldn’t help but notice the tall blonde man with arms covered in tattoos.

After you find out that his name was Luca and you see him working in the kitchen two nights a week.

 He’s quiet. Keeps to himself. Polite, but not too much. The kind of person who speaks only when needed moves like he’s thinking about something no one else can see.

Your favorite kind of person: the one who doesn't ask for anything.

It’s the third or fourth time you end up near him during closing that you start to pick up on the small things.

He wipes down surfaces with method, but not perfection. Doesn’t like wasting time on pointless steps. Don’t look over your shoulder. Doesn’t interrupt.

He doesn’t touch people, either.

He’ll pass a container to someone without making contact. Stand just a little further back than everyone else. Not in a way that draws attention. Just… aware. Careful.

You notice. But you don’t say anything.

He doesn’t either.

Which is maybe the first thing you like about him.

Weeks pass like that. Easy, distant rhythm. The kind of neutral space that doesn’t ask you to be more than what you are. You don’t think he’s watching you — not like that. But he notices things. You can tell.

You drop a tray once. Reflexive flinch. He doesn’t comment.

Another time, someone at the bar gets too handsy with one of the waitresses. You freeze, can’t stop watching. He watches too — but not with interest. With concern. Quiet, unreadable.

Then he’s gone for two weeks.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter.

But when he shows up again, something in you exhales.

You hate that. Why him? Ew.

The day he returned to the restaurant was quiet. His polite salute to everyone when he arrived made you look at him. He nodded easily and kept his gaze at his work.

Clearly you tried not to gaze at him, but that day was full of interactions between you and him. “The flour” or “Hand me the stir.”

After the shift, there were just the two of you.

“Thought you left,” you say, first words you’ve spoken to him directly.

He shrugs; eyes focused as he put his coat on. “Just went back to Chicago for a bit. Had to check in.”

You nod, even though you didn’t ask for details.

He doesn’t offer them.

Another reason you like him.

The first shift after that is normal. Or as normal as things get for you.

The kitchen’s loud. Someone blasts music. You keep your head down, do your part, stay out of the way. But the air is tight today. Your chest is already aching from tension you didn’t know you were carrying.

And then someone — one of the newer guys, trying too hard to be funny — throws a towel.

It hits your shoulder.

Not hard. Not even meant for you, maybe. But you freeze anyway. You feel inexplicable anger.

Your hands are numb. Stomach drops. You feel heat behind your eyes.

You hear laughter. Not cruel — just unaware. And as you wanted to burst for something so simple as that you hear: “Hey. Not cool.”

Luca’s voice.

Quiet, low, calm. But firm.

The laughter stopped.

You don’t look at him. Can’t.

But your hands stop shaking. And you sigh softly.

Later, after closing, you’re wiping down the stainless steel by the sink when he approaches. Not close. Just near enough that you can feel his presence shift the air.

“You okay?”

You could lie. Say yes. Say you didn’t even notice.

Instead you say, “Yeah. Just hate surprises.”

He nods like he understands. Doesn’t push. Doesn’t say you’re overreacting.

Just nods, and says, “Me too.”

And you don’t become friends. Not really. You just… exist near each other. You talk a little more. Exchange dry observations. Share long silences that don’t ask to be filled.

It’s nothing. And it’s everything.

Because for once, someone doesn’t make you feel wrong for being how you are.

One night, it gets quiet.

Too quiet.

You’re locking up alone. Everyone else has gone. You thought Luca left too.

But then you see him — in the back alley, smoking something slowly. Leaning against the wall, staring up at the sky like he’s trying to memorize the darkness.

You pause.

He glances over, lifts his chin in a silent greeting.

You hesitate, then walk over — stopping a good few feet away.

He doesn’t move.

You stand there, silent, unsure why you came.

“I thought you had left.” he says suddenly.

“No, I needed to check out some things for tomorrow.”

He nods.

“I leave tomorrow to Boston again.”

Now you nod.

“I was wandering if you want to dinner with me when I come back.” He says confident and now looking at you.

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“You need something? I mean, we can talk if you do.”

He looks clearly confused.

“No, I don’t need anything. I just want to dine with you.”

You swallow.

“Right.” She says sarcastic. “Just say that you want to fuck me, that’s it.”

He finally straightened, his eyes locked on her, completely wide.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He says firmly.

You look away.

“I mean…”

He sighs and turns his cigarette off.

“Goodnight.” He mumbles as he walks away.

You close your eyes and scoff in anger as you leave too.

Why did you say that?

That night you had the same dream, unwanted hands, the tears, the physical ache, the secret you were forced to keep over the years. The pain you learned to live with and the anger that it caused you. 

Because you never asked for it, you were a child, and he was supposed to take care of you.

So, you learned that it was all they wanted from you, and you coped with it, you learned to use it at your favor, but you despised it. You despised yourself for that.

When he came back, you didn’t speak to him. He didn’t either.  And you weren’t going to be the one to fold first, not against him. And even if it wasn’t a competition, you felt like it.

He kept his politeness, and you kept your indifference.

The next shift, someone pats your back in passing.

You flinch. It’s quick, involuntary. You look at the guy as you hear a scoff. “Jesus, Relax.”

You’re ready to snap. Already pulling words like weapons from your throat.

But Luca’s voice cuts through first. “Mate, it’s simple, just don’t touch her.”

The room stills.

You blink, stunned.

He doesn’t look angry. Just… firm. Protective, without being loud.

The guy mutters something and walks off.  You frown silently and look at him.

Luca doesn’t look at you. Just keep working.

And somehow that’s worse. And better. You don’t know how to thank him. So, you don’t.

He noticed how much you didn’t want to be touched, and you thought about it in your room at night.

You wonder if you had to apologize, if you should call him… No, you don’t even have his phone number and what for? 

But you think about his voice. The way it didn’t waver.  You press your forehead to your knees and breathe.

Maybe, just maybe, you could finally dine with him.

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

studying Philosophy is really like

you think this is going to help you understand the world and your place in it better,

but actually all it does is confuse and befuddle you farther than ever before

and also you make friends with the most annoying (read: great, smart, lovely, kind, but argumentative as ALL GET OUT) people in the world and then you realize you've BECOME one of those people and you kind of want to just curl up in a nice quiet little hole in the ground with all your books and read and think until a complete and total understanding of the world falls out of your noggin and everything makes sense; but actually you just want to take a walk in the woods with a friend and not think about anything for at least a year.

[berthiindeath]

@lone-blade liked for a starter

Her blade tears through the darkspawn's skull with a sickening squelch; it howls a piercing death rattle before she kicks it as far from her as she can muster. It never ends. Her chest heavens from exertion, eyes surveying just how little ground they've made up as the onslaught batters against the fortress.

Weisshaupt, the pinnacle of a legendary order—and it's crumbling under her feet.

This is a cluster fuck.

Cacophony reigns as horns blare, a perpetual cloud of smoke stinging her eyes, and a relentless sea of darkspawn motivated by their ancient master. This couldn't be going worse, but at least her life remains cleaved to her bones, for now.

As they begin making their way toward the library, they reach a pocket of remaining wardens fending off an incoming overwhelming horde. Unwilling to leave them behind, Gwendolyn diverts her course straight for the wardens. When she's within range, the necromancer slams her staff hard into the ground, sending a pulse of necrotic magic that sends darkspawn sprawling back, buying them precious few seconds to flee. " Come on! There's too many of them, we need to fall back! "

[devilishdanse]

@doublejango ; Vepar gets to turn Lucifer into a stress ball or whatever happens. . . . .

"Listen, I'm clearing my schedule for today and the next two. No meetings, no calls, nothing! The only exceptions are if it's an absolute emergency, or it's Charlie. Otherwise, they can leave a message and I'll get back to them wheeenneevver. Okay? Great! Thanks!" He leaves his assistant with that information before anything can be said or argued.

Lucifer's hair is an absolute DISASTER, and even worse are the feathers all mussed from the wind. Realistically, he should have just used magic to get to his destination, but it felt improper and a bit disrespectful to take such an easy method to get from point A to point B. Today it did, anyhow. Besides, he needed the opportunity to stretch his wings. Lucifer had even insisted on making the trip to him, rather than the other way around. He needed out of those walls; needed to separate himself from too familiar shadows and the thoughts that crowded in. There he went, running away from one problem to the next, and away, away, away. . . .

What he did not need, however, was the wind attacking him from every Sin-forsaken angle no matter how he made the flight to the mountains. Lucifer understood the WHY for choosing such a remote location. . . . it was the HOW that rattled around and made him antsy with frustration. Even upon landing and magicking his wings away, the king still nearly found himself blown to the ground with an invisible force. He had half a mind to ask if some of it were magic more so than natural.

He takes out his phone, finds Vepar's contact, and taps a short series of messages.

: HEYYYY BUDDY! : Just flew in! It is WINDY up here. : You wanted to chat?

[cannimumsable]

izuku who doesn't remember or know kacchan is trans will always be so fucking funny to me. he just sees kacchan in pants/skirt (depending on transmasc/transfemcchan) in UA and he's like mm. anyways

[racke7]

My internet has been investigated by a professional.

There might be something weird with the big cables (to quote the guy: the "inner-pair" and "outer-pair" of the eight-cables are of different lengths, but by all accounts still work just fine), but my own equipment has at least passed (no extra-fine for crying wolf for me).

The weird stability-thing continues to be weird. And current test is for them to switch my internet-provider (internet-provider has a use-contract with the cable-operators, who are the ones investigating) over the weekend. See if the problem is on that end.

It's possible that this is the case (at which point I guess I'll try to switch permanently), or that it's that weird cable-length resulting in the problem (which is... a whole different can of worms).

[botanikos]

Perhaps he was earning a reputation beyond the Goetia name. This wasn't, after all, his first time being taken captive for one reason or another. Though it certainly isn't surprising anymore. Conveniently enough, Stolas hadn't been near his phone at the time; not that he needed it. He chides himself for near instantly thinking of reaching out to Blitz. He was always the first thought in his flustered mind when in distress - among other moments as well. Perhaps that alone spoke volumes. All he wanted was to enjoy a nice, luxurious bath surrounded by warm candles and his prized crystals with lavender and jasmine floating on the surface. But no. He hadn't even had time to remove his attire, not even to dip a talon in to test the water!

Stolas had been blindfolded up until recently, and now he peered around the room attempting to analyze his surroundings and gather his bearings. Vibrant red eyes narrow as he struggles against his bindings. Blessed rope. How delightful. Someone did their homework. Nevertheless, surely he wasn't in any real danger...

❝ Honestly if it's money you seek, I have no problem providing it without the use of these nightmarish restraints. I would have also preferred to remain in the comfort of my own palace as opposed to.... This quaint place. ❞

-- for @hazbinned

[hazbintales]

@musehotpot - ♡ starter with charlie.

Charlie looked around the newly made hotel, a smile on her face as she greeted anyone she came across until she saw her father. She stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath in before starting her walk again, moving towards him with her smile still on her features.

“ Afternoon, dad. ” She greeted him as she approached and came to a short stop once she felt she was close enough to him. “ What are you up to? The hotel looks great, thanks for all your help. I don’t think I uh.. thanked you properly… ”

[moldcursed]

@praynot said : ❝ don't go... ❞ && [ LEAD ] : lee takes ethan by the hand, and leads them to the bed.

ethan stands in the hallway outside lee’s hotel room ; the expression on his face is one of a man lost and adrift, unsure of what exactly he's doing here in the first place. he shouldn't be here, bothering lee this late at night. most certainly not. this isn't like him. she's got enough on her plate without bringing even more of ethan's bullshit into it ( she has done enough for him already ). he's almost talked himself out of it, ready to turn and head back to his own room, but then lee opens her door and he's stuck standing there in the hall like an goddamn idiot. ethan can't leave without giving an explanation. he knows this.

“ i'm sorry for waking you. ” the words are out immediately, tone immensely apologetic. “ i couldn't sleep, and i just ... ended up here. ” there's a small laugh, soft and quiet, albeit humorless. “ sorry, lee. i'll get out of your hair. ”

ethan doesn't even give her a chance to reply before he’s turning to head back in the direction he came — only for the agent to reach out and grab his hand. don't go, she says as he turns around, and ethan's chest tightens with a sensation he can't quite place.

relief, he thinks it might be. relief that he doesn't have to be alone in that damn room, where the walls are closing in around him and the thoughts in his head are getting to be far too loud for his own comfort. lee represents something akin to safety — after all, she's the one who came to save him from the baker house and all of its horrors, the one who believed him when no one else did. she's something familiar, something comfortable, something that ethan knows well enough to be at ease with. he can trust her, and god knows that's not easy for him to do these days.

“ i don't want to impose — ”

there isn't any room for argument or resistance though, he realizes. not as she gently tugs him into her room with an understanding expression, shutting the door behind him. not as she leads him towards her bed, hand wrapped tight around his. she’s welcoming him in, no questions asked, and ethan would be a fool not to take her up on the offer.

[starsmuserainbow]

[[ Starter for @needlenxggin !]]

Okay, that was definitely a first in all her times of travelling through space.

Starfire had been flying like normal, using her communicator to make sure she stayed on course while making her way back to Tamaran. Then, suddenly, she was completely thrown off course, as if an insanely strong gust of 'wind' would have hit her. She could only assume it must have been a ship passing too fast for her to even see, or perhaps even an actual attack aimed for her for some reason; but right in this moment, she couldn't really assume or think much. She completely lost control of her flight through this force pushing her, getting flung around hard enough to just spin and fall along with the force, and she could sense that she was entering an atmosphere at some point. Until the crash, she still was unable to do anything or stop herself. Needless to say that she left a huge dent in the ground, though thanks to the tamaranean sturdiness, at least she wasn't knocked out or any badly wounded.

Groaning as she got herself back up, the first thing that Starfire realized was that her communicator, which she had held in hand as whatever this was happened, did not survive the forces and all that she was holding anymore was a shattered piece of technology. Tucking it away, she lifted herself up further to now stand again, and then looked around. Starfire definitely didn't recognize the planet, but the more important part was that she was stared at. No wonder by that entrance she must have made. "I... I greet you. I do not mean harm," Starfire spoke, repeating as she was going through the languages she knew, like any tamaranean usually did when making contact with someone they didn't know what language they would speak.

[requiemofrebellion]

@multianime - starter

A soft sigh left the blue haired male as he slowly stood up from the ground. His body was a bit sore from the training he was trying to do on his own before he had to reluctantly go home. Nagisa gathered up his things around the forest before heading out and back towards the class E building. He was sure a lot of the students had gone home by now. He wondered if the teachers even went home, knowing Koro-sensei though he was probably off across the planet to attend something. So, Nagisa didn’t think there was much use to check inside the building to say his final goodbyes until he saw them tomorrow. So, he turned away from the building, ready to head out towards the main campus when his eyes laid on a familiar redhead. 

“ Karma? ” At first it was a question, before a smile formed on his lips and he started up a walk to get closer to his friend. “ Hey, Karma. I didn’t think you’d still be around after school, what are you doing? ”