stroking-hair

So whatever you do don’t think about Jace when he’s embracing what appears to be an unconscious Alec and crying stroking his hair, the back of his neck, his back, as if he can’t believe he’s real and he’s here and how he probably just almost died and he almost lost his best friend, his brother, the person connected to his soul, and he rocks Alec back and forth in his arms and chokes out an, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Alec,” and his chest is heaving and tears are streaming down his face as he holds his parabatai and doesn’t plan on letting go for a very long time

“A Second Chance” - Aelin

“Oh gods,” Dorian breathed. He held Manon to his side tightly, stroking her hair. Chaol stopped short by his side, obviously wary of the witches. He gripped Dorian’s shoulder tightly. The Thirteen surrounded them and Dorian swore again, “Oh my god” 

“Who is that?” Manon and Chaol whisper-asked at the same time. Dorian hushed them both and he stared in shock at the boy with chestnut brown hair and brown eyes. Sam Cortland. 

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M,

I wrote so many letters on here. Then you broke my heart and I said it was over. But I knew it wasn’t.

You spend at least a night a week in my bed. Despite us both saying it would stop. I’ve never known anything feel so right as when I’m with you.

You say you don’t want a relationship with anyone. But there’s no difference between a relationship and what we have now. Except there’s no guarantee it will happen again.

You have your issues, and it breaks my heart that you feel so messed up. And I try to understand that this is just what you say it is. I do try. But when you roll over just to stroke my hair, or kiss my cheek when I’m half-way through a sentence…it’s all confusing again.

I want to tell you how much I love you - when I’m not blind drunk this time. I want you to know how much I will be there for you, as a friend, as a whatever I am, if you want me to.

I’m still fairly sure I’m going to marry you. But it’s hard sometimes, you know?

Still, for now you’re mine. My what? I don’t know.

All my love,

A

…Pride clears up a worry you have.

Pride

Pairing: Pride x Reader

For  @labeca

Prompt 84: “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?

~*~–z–~*~

You hummed softly as you curl close against Pride. He tenderly strokes your hair as you smile softly. Your heavy eyes slowly look at him as he smiles tiredly at you. He dips his head and kisses your nose as you start to doze.

“You’re so beautiful.” His whisper is soft and slurred with sleep as he gently strokes your hair. You hum happily and lean into the touch as he continues, “Ah love you, {Y/n}.” The words are said so softly as slumber overtakes you that you feel like they’re a dream.

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To whoever is lucky enough to be her next,
She’s jealous. Furiously, viciously, desperately jealous. It’ll annoy you, fuck, it’ll annoy you. But don’t get angry, learn to love it. It means she loves you, she cares. She cares so much. She’ll think every girl can see what she sees in you.

She’s scared of the dark sometimes, she has nightmares, bad ones. Hold her. Hold her so tight, stroke her hair, kiss her forehead, and don’t sleep without lingering your arm around her limbs, please don’t let her go.

She has a sense of humour you’ll never find in anybody else. She’s so funny, a dark and honest humour that will make you laugh until your stomach hurts. She’ll love to laugh, make her laugh. She throws her head back and her hair brushes off her shoulders and her eyes light up so bright it’s indescribable, you’ll know what I’m talking about.

She’s insecure, heartbreakingly so. She always has been and she probably always will be. She’ll put the duvet over her body and she’ll turn the other way if you look at her for too long, but she is beautiful. In every light, in every season, at every time of day and in every dimension of the universe, she’s beautiful. Remind her, every day. She’ll blush and shrug it off but she’ll smile when she thinks about it lying in bed that night, and that’s worth the stars in the skies.

Lastly, she doesn’t give second chances. She didn’t give me one. I didn’t deserve one but I’ll never stop wishing I got one. At every opportunity, kiss her in the street, buy her flowers (she loves orchids), dance with her at parties and don’t break her heart. Please don’t break her heart. Because that’ll end up breaking yours twice as bad. You’ll fall asleep to the sound of her closing the door behind her and you’ll never fucking forget it.
Love her, because she’ll love you. She doesn’t do anything in halves, she’ll love you whole heartedly and she’ll do it so very gracefully. Love every single one of her flaws, if you ever manage to find any, love her how she deserves and don’t make my mistake.

Yours truly, I lost her.

The Artelier
— blue-delusion

4

Just you and me, buddy. Just you and me. 

Jonathan Joestar fancies some boiled sweets so he decides to go shopping. His enormous shoulders knock thousands of dollars of merchandise off the shelves. The girth of one arm sends an elderly lady into a barrel of taffy. His gargantuan horse body blocks the sun, killing many flowers. He cries himself to sleep