#Nobody wants it to be over. But life and peace can no longer exist at the same time

[cryptidcalling]

“It’ll be over soon” always fucking destroys me no matter what the context is. Whatever they’re going through can’t be fixed or helped, they just have to wait until it stops.

[bridalribbon]

　𝜗𝜚　a woman with ocd tells you how to finally stop checking　.

(　✶　)　so, you want to unshackle yourself from the 3d. you want to be free as a bird, living it up in paris, or hogwarts, or wherever the hell you should be right now instead of scrolling endlessly through tumblr at 2am like some kind of digital ghost. guess what, that's completely possible to achieve. here's how i managed to do it, coming from somebody whose brain loves to sabotage itself with obsessive – compulsive disorder. to explain this properly, i have to pull back the curtain on ocd itself, and explain specifically how an ocd episode ( or spike ) works, and how to survive when your mind decides to stage a full – scale rebellion against your peace. or, at least, how i manage to do it.

first, there's a trigger — something feels off, wrong, like a note played slightly sharp in an otherwise perfect symphony. it could be physical, mental, or that sickening combination of both that makes your skin crawl. second, this trigger activates an obsession, a thought that digs its claws into your brain and refuses to let go, feeding on your attention like a parasite. you can't look away from the car crash, you can't pull your brain away from it. the obsession is all – consuming and devastating. third, the urge to perform a compulsion crashes over you like a wave — you have to do something, anything, to fix this wrongness that's eating you alive from the inside out. this action becomes an obsession in itself, performed repeatedly to soothe the original obsession. this is why people with contamination ocd often overwash their hands, to use a well – known example. as you can imagine, living like this isn't just exhausting — it's disabling in ways that people who've never experienced it can't fathom. your life becomes a series of rituals and checks, a prison built from your own desperate attempts to feel safe in your own skin. there are many kinds of ocd therapy, but one of the most effective is erp — exposure and response prevention. it's exactly as brutal as it sounds: deliberately exposing yourself to situations that trigger your obsessions while simultaneously forcing yourself to sit with the discomfort, to resist the magnetic pull of your compulsions however, it's effective. erp is oftentimes hailed as a saving grace for recovering from certain compulsions, and not without reason.

now, here's where it gets interesting for shifters. the way i see many people on this app approach shifting — constantly checking for symptoms, analyzing every sensation, refreshing their awareness of the 3d to see if anything's changed — you're triggering yourself into obsessing over whether you've shifted yet, then compulsively checking your current reality to either confirm or deny your progress. you're stuck in the same exhausting loop, just with different stakes. the solution? apply the same principle that helps people with ocd. stop checking. stop monitoring. stop treating every moment like a test you might be failing. when the urge to analyze whether you've shifted hits you, when that familiar anxiety starts crawling up your spine because you're still aware of this reality, sit with that discomfort instead of feeding it with more checking. let yourself sit with it for longer and longer. accept the feeling is there, acknowledge it, then move on. you are not the exception to the rule, nobody is, you just need to learn to stop checking constantly. practice this, get good at it, erp is a skill developed over time and doesn't come instantaneously — the same is true for not constantly affirming the 3d and your current reality.

assume you've already shifted and then leave it alone. don't interrogate the assumption. don't poke at it looking for proof. don't turn it over in your mind like you're an archaeologist with a particularly interesting piece of pottery. just let it exist, solid and unquestioned, while you go about actually living as the person you know you are. your desire follows you, not the other way around. the more you resist the compulsion to verify and re-verify your reality, the weaker its hold on you becomes. your brain will scream at you to check, to make sure, to gather just one more piece of evidence. this is normal. this is expected. this is exactly when you need to be most stubborn about not giving in. because every time you check, you're telling the universe — and yourself — that you don't actually believe you've shifted. you're reinforcing the very doubt that's keeping you stuck.

break the cycle. stop checking. trust the process enough to leave it the hell alone.

[whereserpentswalk]

It is possible to remove a human soul. For a long time mages thought there was no way to do it. Even the darkest creations of magic, vampires, werewolves, banshees, all still have souls, even if they're twisted and dark. But now, in this industrial age, we've found the way to remove a soul to be simple...

...You have to rip it out yourself...

Only you can remove your own soul. Nobody else can take it out for you. It's a simple spell but you have to remove it for yourself, on your own. You have to decide that you're better off not having one rather then having one. You have to make the choice yourself, that you'd rather be empty.

People without souls aren't some sort of shocking monster like how scifi movies and philosophers texts predicted. They are simply people, except they are entirely without any want or desire. They just passively exist without wanting anything, still doing what they have to do, but not yearning for anything more then what they have. The only physical difference that we've found is that those without souls are ever so slightly desaturated.

There are many people who remove their souls. About 0.2 percent of the population, which is small but not that small for a major curse that one has to inflict on themselves. There are a lot of people in this world who don't want to have wants.

Someone out there there's a worker in a coal mine, her lungs filled with ash, the skin of her feet and hands hardened by labor. She has decided to remove her soul, it was too painful for her to want a better life, so now she doesn't. She used to dream of finally getting out of her poor mining town, of going to university on the emerald coast, of seeing a wyvern with her own two eyes, of being a singer in some shining city, and now she dreams of nothing. She has no desire for a world beyond the mines, though the black air still scratches at her lungs, she doesn't have the feeling that she wants a better life. She still eats little more food then what her father can shoot, but she doesn't let her hunger for more be anything but physical sensation. When the miners form a union her soulless body is the first scab to side with the company. She is satisfied with the pay that she has.

There's a preist out there whose removed his soul and considered it enlightment. He tells the small fringe church that this is enlightenment and hopes to show the rest of them what he's found one day. He is finally what he considers pure and without desires. But the people who know him the most closely are the most disturbed. The other preists say that he no longer bothers to sing songs, or watch the sunrise over the mountains. The children complain that he doesn't take time to read stories to them like he used to. He tells them he no longer has the pain of even the most basic desires, that he has finally reached a calm, but nobody really has seen him happy since the transformation, calm and peaceful, but without any of the things that make him happy anymore.

There is a nobleman living on the shores of the emerald coast, who ripped out his soul waiting for a lover who will never return. He fell in love with a boy when he was young, and stayed with him for nearly a decade. But now the nobleman is being forced to marry some woman his father selected for him, and the man he loved is off somewhere he'll never know. He could have had that grief of mourning, could have remembered that smile, those shining eyes, those flowing locks of hair reaching like the arms of the sea across his chest. But he chose not to cry. Chose not to have happy memories. To be something empty that his father would be proud of.

Some say you shouldn't rip out your soul because some wants can be fulfilled, because the slave can find the freedom they yearn for, for the artist can finish their great works, for there is happiness to be had...

I think there's a simpler reason to not want to rip out your soul, I think it's better to be sad then to be empty. Within yearning for what cannot be there is some comfort, regardless of if the darkest of fates can be escaped or not. When there is only emptiness it the pain my become quiet and calm, but it's not like you won't be hurt, just that the despair surrounds you so much, and the pain is so deep inside you, it doesn't look like pain anymore.

[softiekatz]

Hello, I want to ask for a fic where the reader is Ekko's older (also adopted) sister and she and Claggor have been friends since childhood. In the fic itself, you can describe, for example, a sleepover where the reader pretends to be asleep, and Claggor gives them a peck or something like that! (Give me some awkwardness and a giggles)

Sorry for grammar mistakes :(( English is my third language

“if you were awake”

wc: 1,085

awkward, first love, and feelings neither of you want to think about

In the Lanes, there’s no such thing as quiet safety . Only brief, borrowed peace.

The kind that slips between crumbling walls, rides in on laughter and shared meals, makes a home out of a place the rest of the world pretends doesn’t exist. That’s what your family had built. Not blood, but bond. Makeshift. Sacred.

You were eight the first time you saw Ekko; small, fast, already loud and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stood behind the woman who would become your mother. She offered you a place. Not just a cot or a warm meal, but something far rarer in Zaun: permanence. And Ekko had been thrilled to have an older sibling to look up to. You were his anchor, his partner in crime, his confidant. Your whole life rewrote itself in the crooked little rooms of the Last Drop.

That’s where you met Claggor too.

Big goggles, wide heart. He didn’t talk much at first, but his steadiness was the kind you noticed. Where Ekko burst through rooms, Claggor lingered, thoughtful. If Ekko was your little brother, Claggor quickly became your best friend.

Years passed like steam drifting through alleyways; quick, hot, and full of noise. You learned how to fight. How to run. How to patch wounds with one hand while holding a knife in the other. The older you got, the more you saw: what Piltover stole, what Zaun had to claw back. What kind of people survived here, and how hard it was to stay soft in a place that punished softness.

But somehow, Claggor had never hardened.

You still didn’t know how he did it. He looked out for Powder when no one else had the patience. He humored Mylo even when Mylo was impossible. And with you… well, something shifted over time. At first you didn’t want to name it. Then you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The way he always passed you the last bite. The way he seemed to listen a second longer than he needed to. The way his gaze lingered when he thought you weren’t looking. It wasn’t loud, whatever existed between you, just warm. Steady. Real.

⸻

That night, the underground buzzed with tension.

Vi and Milo had gone topside. Ekko followed them, despite your protests. Powder stayed curled up in her room. And you… well, you were tired of chasing shadows. Of worrying that any day could be the last you saw of the people you loved.

So when Claggor caught you wandering the bar after closing, blanket tucked under your arm, he grinned sheepishly.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Could you?” you shot back.

He held up a small tin of stolen sweetbread. “Figured we could wait for them together.”

The two of you set up in the back room, the one with the creaky floor and dusty armchair that nobody sat in anymore. You spread the blanket on the ground, curled up close, heads tipped toward one another.

“Remember the time we built that dummy for Vi to punch?” you asked, mouth half-full of bread.

“She named it ‘Baron Von Suckerface,’” Claggor laughed.

You chuckled, then looked at him for a beat too long. “We were kids.”

He glanced over. “We still are.”

You wanted to argue that, but you didn’t. The silence stretched. A comfortable kind, at first. But soon, you could feel something else under it ; something nervous, humming just beneath your skin. The room had grown dim, the only light coming from the amber glow of the overhead pipes. Steam hissed through vents like the room itself was breathing.

Claggor shifted beside you, stretching out, one arm tucked behind his head. “You should get some rest. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

You nodded, curled in beside him, and closed your eyes. But you weren’t asleep. Not yet.

Not when you could feel the faint tremble of his hand, the way he kept adjusting his goggles, fidgeting. You heard the breath he took before moving; slow, tentative.

Then you felt it.

A gentle touch to your hair, brushing it away from your cheek. And then…

A soft kiss to your temple.

Your breath caught, but you kept it steady, playing asleep with your heart thundering in your chest.

Claggor hesitated. “If you were awake,” he whispered, voice barely audible, “I’d say I think I’m falling for you.”

He let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh.

“But you’re not. So I guess it’s safe to say it now.”

Your eyes stayed closed. But your face heated so fast you were surprised steam didn’t rise from your skin.

He laid back down slowly. And within minutes, you heard his breathing even out.

You opened your eyes.

The warmth from his body was everywhere. The closeness of it. The way his hand had drifted to your arm in his sleep, relaxed there. He looked younger with his goggles pushed up, mouth slightly open, eyebrows soft.

Your chest ached.

So you moved closer, barely a breath between you now. And with a soft, barely-there brush of lips, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. The faintest touch. A return for the one he thought you didn’t feel.

“I heard you,” you whispered against his skin. “And me too.”

⸻

You woke to light filtering through the high cracks in the wall.

And Claggor’s arm around your waist.

Your face was tucked into his shoulder. His leg was over yours. You didn’t know how it happened, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world , like you’d always fit there.

Claggor stirred, then froze when he realized how tightly you were wrapped together.

“Uh,” he said, voice hoarse. “Hi?”

You smiled, eyes still half-closed. “Hi.”

He looked down at you, his whole face pink. “So, uh. About last night…”

You looked up at him, lips brushing his collarbone. “About you kissing me?”

His ears turned red.

“I—wait, how much did you hear—?”

You sat up slightly, hand on his chest to steady yourself. “All of it.”

He groaned into his hands. “I knew it.”

You grinned, cheeks sore from smiling. “Claggor?”

“…Yeah?”

“I kissed you back.”

He blinked. “Wait. When?”

“When you fell asleep.”

His smile bloomed so fast, so wide, you thought your heart might burst.

“Oh,” he said, quietly. “Well. That’s… kind of amazing.”

“Kind of,” you teased.

And with the kind of sweetness only Zaun kids could make out of soot and sleep and second chances, you leaned in for the real kiss.

This time, neither of you pretended.

[bunji-enthusiast]

HAIII IDK IF REQUESTS ARE OPEN BUT IF THEY ARENT, IGNORE THIS

Howeverrr

Could I request a Dogday x reader where reader is coming down from a bad day and just needs some company?

IF SO THANK YOU IF NO ITS OKAY

Point A To Z

Note || absolutely, such a cute request ❤️

WC || 651

Sypnosis || Even after a bad day, DogDay will always be there for you.

Dilapidated banging of metal and rust resounding all throughout the Factory, if you weren’t among the building at it’s liveliest, how was one even living? You knew better, you knew otherwise. You were close to hanging up your withered wings, to be brought into this world and be nearly wrung out without a care in the world will be your thirteenth reason. Nobody would be capable of convincing you otherwise.

You had debts to pay however, a debt to living the existence you eventually come to know and love. From then and there, you were still learning to love living–ain’t everyone?--sorely enough, though there are moments where it kills you. You’ve had moments where you don’t regret the decisions you made, because you lived it.

Not today however.

Not now.

Life felt cute, deciding to bestow you with a girgaum of paperwork at the foot of your door. 

Audibly groaning, you sat down near the playing area for where the children are currently playing as of now. You just wanted to take a nap, you couldn’t unfortunately, that would be ethically bad manners and not Employee Regulations. So instead, you had opted for finding peace in watching the children be joyful amongst themselves.

Adjacent to your position, a fellow employee had taken notice of your presence, seeing how down to the dumps you looked. 

“Is [First Name] alright?” He spoke out to a playcare attendant, speaking out to DogDay in particular. The employee knew that DogDay had a knack for helping people and toys alike when they are feeling particularly bad about themselves. 

DogDay perked up at the employee’s question, “Oh, the angel? Where are they?” He inquired with a steady tone, wanting to see where you were. It was busy in the playing area, full of children and employees watching over the Playcare Attendants and children alike, so he could not spot you that easily. 

The employee nodded, then pointed steadily in your direction. “Over there by the entrance on the fence, I’m pretty sure.” 

In return, DogDay muttered an audible breath of thanks and stood up, his frame towering overtly every child in the room. From what he could read on your distressed face, especially down to your nerve-wracked body, you were not in high spirits whatsoever. 

DogDay was unshaken, making his way past the bodies of people all the way over to you. He subconsciously made steps to where he could make it to you without tripping and falling flat on his face; DogDay was used to the area. 

Once the giant dog had finally made his way across, you felt his presence looming over you, causing you to turn and look up to get a proper look at–

“DogDay?”

He nodded, kneeling down as he didn’t want to disturb you with any sudden movements. “I notice… you aren’t feeling well, as okay?” DogDay gestures, trying to not imply any misinformation of the sort. Suddenly, a laugh escaped you, that was the first time in a while today you could genuinely feel a longer period of happiness without it being interrupted by anything. 

When you have calmed yourself, you reply with, “Just a bad day, nothing new to me.” You sigh heavily, leaning forward as you propped your chin upon the palm of your hand. 

Upon hearing this, DogDay’s body became denser than usual with concern. He wrapped his long arms around you, cuddling up against you so you would began to relax

“Can you let go now?"

“Do you feel better, Angel?” He replied, not letting up on his hugging. Though, DogDay had relaxed his grip just enough so you wouldn’t feel suffocated. 

“No!” You retorted, yet how your body was had betrayed your angry little spat. Visibly relaxing and just merely reveling in his company. DogDay squeezed you, nuzzling the back of your head as he made himself comfortable.

“Then it hasn’t kicked in yet!”

[n1ghtwr1ter]

At the end of my latest TLT reread and it’s been physically painful attempting to read the last 40+ pages of Nona. Like, the short shrift that Gideon/Kiriona gets given by the people in the story…the theoretical good guys who honestly only see her as a thing, as a means to an end with an inconvenient dead soul attached to it… It makes me want to rip my own heart out of my chest.

Nobody has cared about Gideon her whole life. Most people, in fact, if they remembered about her at all, went out of their way to tell her how much they wished she didn’t exist. In the final chapters of Gideon, she finally gets the thing she’s been desperate for her whole life: somebody telling her that they need her, they care that she exists, and they badly want her to go on doing it. This allows her to make peace with the prospect that at the ripe old age of 18, she needs to die so that that person can go on living and living and living, using the castrated remnants of her soul as fuel to do so. Not a great way to go, but at least Gideon would get to be useful to somebody, would get to be remembered for something.

And then she wakes up in the wrong body, and finds out that her sacrifice - her attempt to be useful in the most selfless way possible, in that her self will no longer exist - has been rejected. And not only that, but the person she tried to give herself to - the one who was supposed to care about her - went to extreme lengths to make completely sure that she no longer remembered about Gideon.

She literally cut Gideon out of her brain.

And now, drifting along in the worst sort of half life where she’s inhabiting her body but it’s no longer really hers, in very obvious fashion - there’s holes in it, her heart is missing, and it’s got her shitty father’s handprints all over it (not even touching how much of a violation that is), indelibly - she finally meets back up with the small group of people who could theoretically be relied upon to be glad to see her again.

But then the one who was supposed to care about her most tries to kiss her (massively OOC for Harrow), and turns out to not even be there - it’s some weird baby inhabiting her body, and doing a really shit job of it too. The rest of them won’t stop talking about how they need her to break into the Tomb - as if she was just another key, same as the ones they worked together to acquire in Canaan House, just bigger and more inconvenient - and/or how they both fucked and killed her mom, who also (surprise, surprise) wished that Gideon had never existed, but saw her as a thing that needed to be done for the good of the mission.

Ultimately, they all make it abundantly clear - Palamedes, Camilla, Pyrrha, and especially Nona, all these people who are supposed to be kind and good and right - that they would prefer she wasn’t there. That it just be her body, with no Gideon attached - at least not Gideon the way she is now, broken and rejected and miserable. They would all far have preferred that she not have her own inconvenient thoughts and feelings and desires and impulses - that she just be inanimate and let the important people, the grown ups, get things done.

They wish she didn’t exist. Same as everybody else in her life, save one, and now she’s left wondering whether Harrow really meant it at all. Because if she did, she wouldn’t have left Gideon to Kiriona’s fate.

And honestly? Really, truly? I know everybody in the fandom loves Pal and Cam and Nona and Pyrrha, but in the end I couldn’t give less of a shit about them. They are fucking side characters, and as intriguing as Nona has been from a worldbuilding standpoint, I ultimately resent having been forced to read 400+ pages of filler bullshit about fucking side characters. I am a butch, and I’m here for my sarcastic, loving, angry, vulnerable, forgiving, and yes, inconvenient sword butch. I’m here for Gideon. But Gideon has been fridged for the last two books of the series in which she is supposed to be a, if not the, main character.

And it feels like almost nobody else in the fandom feels the same way, which, fine. I’m used to that. I’m also used to being told I’m projecting; and I’m used to being told that I’m inconvenient too, in my thoughts and my opinions and the mere fact of my existence. I spent the first eighteen years of my life being told I was inconvenient. Yet another point of overidentification with Gideon.

But in case anybody still thinks that Nona proves that Gideon was an asshole all along, think about all of the above. Think about how it would make you feel to come back from not just death but from the erasure of your existence, something you chose in order to save the life of someone you loved, and be told that you’re inconvenient. Think about how you’d feel if you’d been told all your life that it would be better for everyone if you didn’t exist. And then tell me that Kiriona isn’t in the right and that I should give a rat’s ass what happens to literally anybody else.

It’s Kiriona Hours up in this House, butches. We’ve spent long enough caring about people who would prefer we weren’t around. For once in our entire lives we were told we were important; we were told we mattered; we were told we were the main character. We were going to, if not get the girl and save the world, at least get to do something real, something important, something like being the hero.

But that’s over now; we’re back to being wrong and bad and inconvenient thanks to the simple fact of our existence. So it’s time to embrace it. Let’s be a little shit. Let’s be kind of a dick. Let’s have our own agenda, let’s play our cards close to our heartless chest, let’s allow our circle of empathy to contract to ourselves and maybe one more person. That’s where I’m at right now. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

[dsireland86]

my birthday was this past week.. can I ask for a birthday smut with either all of bad omens or just Noah, I’m happy either way 🥹

Am happy with Dom!Noah as well as Dom!BadOmens 🖤🤍🖤 thank you gorgeous x

HAPPY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY, FRIEND!!!! I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE.

With this I'm going with Noah. It took me bit to write it because I wasn't sure what direction it going in. It's a little longer than intended too, but I could bare parting with anything that's in it, because to me, it's all essential. Hope it brings a smile to your face still, even though it's as late as it is.

Author's Note: This is a tad different from the snippet I posted the other day. I revised some some of it, changing a few things around.

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly @potterheadquinn @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @montgomery-929494 @missduffsblog @lilcazy011 @Lonelydragonlady @Mattysbitchvic @athenexe @pipidoll @flowery-mess  @bloody-spades

He looked around at the people surrounding him outside the huge L.A manor and sighed, groaning and rolling his eyes. All of the fakeness and pretending he saw and heard made him sick to his stomach, reminding him why he hated these shitty parties in the first place. 

Deciding to take a walk around the grounds, past the Lamborghinis and Hummers, Noah hated how all the noise invaded his peace and tranquility. This type of lifestyle was venomous, deadly, and evil and he learned early on how fucked up this type of society was, even with all its money and power. He wanted no part of it. He had chosen something more, something money and power could never buy him. He chose love; her love. It was the kind that saw him through every anxious moment, every sleepless night, every hidden insecurity. She was his anchor, his lifeline, giving his life purpose and meaning. Noah looked at his watch and smiled. 

She walked into the house, overwhelmed by all the noise and sights around her. The exquisite architecture, the size, and the decor of the place was extraordinary, but completely over the top for her. But even with all its beauty she knew it was fake. Nobody’s life was this perfect. 

This wasn’t the evening celebration she had in mind to end her birthday, especially after a day spent laying around in Noah’s hoodie, wrapped up in his arms, and eating her favorite ice cream while rewatching her favorite anime. It was the perfect day, until Noah reminded her about the party. He knew she didn’t want to go due to being a socially awkward introvert herself who was quite content living in his hoodies, yet here she was, walking through the door of a manor that she didn’t know existed until today. 

The long dusty blue backless dress that was held up around her neck by a satin tie looked better on her than Noah imagined. Given the fact that it was picked out in a hurry, it fit her small slender frame perfectly; as if it was made for it. Noah picked it out himself. She wanted to love it, but it revealed more of her body than she cared to show, making her nervous from knowing that if the tie came undone, she would be forced to show the entire place the top half of her naked body. When the dress was delivered she was surprised at Noah’s choice. He was never one to show her off, always wanting her for only himself and even going as far as addressing guys at shows from time to time because of how they were looking at her. So, why of all dresses, would he choose this one?

Every set of eyes were on her as she made her way through the crowd of people in search of him. Whether it was the flow of the dress, the skin of her back on full display, or the anxiousness in her eyes, she could feel the heat of their gaze bearing down on her. Taking a glass of wine from off a passing tray, she drank its entirety, repeating the process not only a second time, but a third time as well as a deep sinking feeling sat at the bottom of her stomach at the thought of never finding him in the sea of fake beautiful people.

Frustrated, she was about to turn and leave, when she spotted a tall figure across the room, leaning against the banister of the elaborate staircase. His eyes were fixed on her, the darkness of passion, arousal, and lust all rolled into the tiny orbs staring back at her. She had found him. Her king. Her Noah.

Fuck… that color on her. It made Noah forget everything around him and all the thoughts about all the fake shit happening around him. With her in his sights now, focusing on everything around him would be impossible and that’s exactly what he was hoping for when he picked out that dress. She was the perfect distraction and everything that Noah needed. She was his solace on dark days, his joy when life felt like it was spinning out of control and every time he thought about her he got so fucking hard,  to the point that it was painful and all he wanted was for her to make it feel better. 

Noah squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose while taking a deep breath and clenching a fist, hoping the feeling of what was building up inside him would pass. Now was not the time and here was certainly not the place, but no matter how much he tried to fight it, the need to make a mess out of her, to squeeze her and spank her ass and use her for his own messed up pleasure. He needed to hear her beg him for more, to watch her take her own pleasure from him and give into him, falling apart with him inside her. He wanted to choke her, just enough to pull the arousing moans out of her that only he could get her to make. He wanted it all and he was going to take it. Adjusting himself, Noah slowly walked toward her as a man with confidence and determination to get what he wanted.

The heat in his eyes followed her everywhere. There was no escaping the sexual hunger she saw in them, the way his soft chocolate, almond shaped eyes darkened the closer she got, driving her insane. But there was something else there, lurking in the corners of them. Something that spoke louder to her yet was silent to those around them. Insecurity. Anxiety. Suffocating. Noah was being swallowed up by them and looking for a way out. Her. He'd been waiting, searching for her this whole time.  

Her eyes narrowed and her brow creased, noticing the way Noah clenched and unclenched his fist and taking a deep breath with his eyes shut tight. It was only when he opened them that she noticed the ache expanding inside her, demanding to be satisfied and fulfilled. The desperate pressure sinking low between her thighs made her wet and she could feel her arousal coat the outer part of her sex. Her mind was telling her to behave and encourage Noah to do the same thing. They were in a public place. But that never stopped him before. 

As he came toward her, her mind flashed to all the other times Noah had quietly taken her away so they could be alone. The bathroom stall, the green room, the car, the closet, all of those places had given them the opportunity to get their fix of each other, enough to last until they got home. 

“You look stunning,” Noah smiled down at her, his voice soft and warm. She lowered her head, feeling her cheeks flush. He stroked her hair then leaned over and kissed her forehead. “You're trying to hide it but you can't, princess. You're fucking beautiful and it's frustrating the shit out of me.” 

She gazed at Noah, speechless as she gazed at him. The look in her eyes was a familiar one, but Noah still wanted to know as he took a step forward, closing the gap between them. “What's happening in that mind of yours? What are you thinking about?” She chuckled, finally feeling the effect of the three glasses of wine that was starting to relax her and make her feel giddy. “More than likely the same thing you are.” 

Noah huffed, grinning. “What? Your body? All this smooth, soft skin,” he teased, dragging a finger down the side of her arm. “Or your soft pink nipples begging for my mouth and those thick thighs wrapped tight around my hips as I fuck you hard and rough; just the way you like it when we play our little game?” Noah heard her shattered breathing, the small gasps and tiny whimpers. 

“Your body is all I've been thinking about.” “Well, then it's a good thing it's yours then,” she replied confidently, running her hands down the front of his black dress shirt and over the red silk tie. Noah's lips curled at the corners. “I heard it was someone's birthday today. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?” whispering in her ear. Raising an eyebrow, he kept steady eye contact with her. 

She held a tight-lipped smile, looking away, only to be drawn back in by the scent of his cologne. “You mentioned our game,” she stated, avoiding Noah’s question. Noah nodded, shoving his hand into his left dress pants pocket and retrieving a part of their dirty little secret. The black tie. “Fuck,” was the only word she could utter as her eyes widened. That’s when Noah knew he had her exactly how he wanted her. The tie was always the trigger for her. 

The room was breathtaking. It had high vaulted ceilings painted white, soft, luxurious gray carpet, and a frameless king-size bed among other small oddities that filled it perfectly. She gasped as soon as Noah turned on the lights that were the two lamps on either side of the bed. 

“I'm guessing you'll be wanting a house with a room like this once we're married,” Noah asked with a chuckle as he locked the door behind him. She gave him a look and slapped his chest playfully. “Relax, I’m only kidding about the house. I know this isn't your thing. It's not mine either,” he said looking around the room. “Kidding only about the house and not the married part?” “Does it shock you that I want to get married?” She shrugged, feeling the smooth silk of the throw that covered the bed. “I don't know. We've never really talked about it, have we?” glancing over her shoulder at Noah. The dark, alluring look had returned to his face as he tilted his head back some and parted his lips. Unable to wait anymore, he grabbed her arm and spun her back to face him, his long arms drawing her to her tiptoes and crashing into his chest. She gasped, her lips slightly parting, feeling the wetness pool inside her panties from the familiar aggressiveness she was yearning to feel from him. 

Noah's mouth met hers with a ravenous hunger that it took her breath away, leaving her no choice but to allow herself to get swept up in ot. She threw her arms around his neck, and when his tongue entered her mouth rolling over hers, she met it, until their kiss became a battle she knew she would lose. Noah groaned, releasing her arm and cupping her face between his massive hands, chasing her tongue hungrily. The air around them felt heavy and charged as she reached up and began pulling at his tie, determined to get him naked as fast as she could. 

They panted in between hot, wet, sucking kisses and as her eyes met his, sultry and seductive, they drew Noah into a trance like state, flipping the intent of their situation from a normal heated moment to their famous game of sex and submission. Noah pulled the black tie from his pocket, mentally praising himself for remembering to bring it. The darkened look she'd become familiar with all these years made his black orbs swell. His arousal twitched against her lower belly, forcing her sex to tighten and release the excitement her body felt, causing her panties to dampen. 

“W-wait… STOP!” Noah yelled, grabbing her wrists, and suddenly she was still. Their chests heaved up and down, their bodies aroused by one another’s to the point they would do anything just to please the other. But there was supposed to be more to this story they were in the middle of making and Noah wasn’t about to let it slip through the cracks. He swallowed hard and licked his lips, running a hand through his hair. Standing up straight, making him more taller than her then he already was, he brought her hands to his tie.

“Take it off,” he ordered, his voice hoarse with dryness. She hesitated. “That’s a command, princess. Are you going to comply or disobey?” Clearing her throat, she nodded then began to loosen the knot. Noah hummed in approval, tilting his head back as she worked. “Very good. Now,” he said, slowly pulling the black tie out of his pocket, “take off my shirt.” With shaking hands, she undid the buttons of his dress shirt, holding her breath when she reached the bottom before removing the shirt. 

“Can I touch you,” she asked, peering up at him through her lashes. “Yes. You can touch me.”

It was faster than a heartbeat. She threw herself into him, attacking his lips dangerously like the drug he was. Slowly, she dragged her lips down his neck and gilded her tongue over the lines and markings of his tattoos, kissing and sucking the taste of him from off his skin. As she moved farther south. her tongue found his nipple and she played with it, swirling and swiping her tongue over it, nipping and tugging until she had Noah moaning in ways that only she could. She moved towards the center of his chest, brushing her lips over the skeleton groom and his bride, over the leaves and the flowers that danced around them all the while her fingers and hands trailed over his skin, knowing every muscle and curve of it. 

Noah threw his head back and groaned, his cock mostly hard, pulsing hard against his zipper. He knew what his body wanted and she knew it, too. That’s why she was already heading in that direction.  

“Stop,” he ordered and she did, straightening herself. “What? Did I,” but Noah's fingers found her lips first. “No. You didn't do anything wrong,” he grinned. “Then what's wrong? Why did you tell me to stop?” The concern in her voice was obvious. She’d always been a people pleaser which is what made this game of cat and mouse so fun. 

“We have a problem here, princess,” he stated simply, running a finger down her naked spine. “And what's the problem, Mr. Davis?” He swallowed hard, trying to control his strangled breathing. “The dress,” he croaked. Her eyes widened. “The dress,” she stated, confused. “Yes, the dress. It needs to be burned,” he replied, breath hot on the skin of her ear lobe as he started sucking on it. “But you picked this dress out, Sebastian.” Noah growled softly, tugging her body closer to his from the way she used his middle name. “I know I did, fuck,” he whispered against her cheek. “But every fucking guy downstairs was looking at you though. If you go back down there, then I'm going to jail.”  “If it's bothering you so badly, then why don't you take it off me?” 

Noah grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. His heavy-lidded eyes drifted over the curves of her face, stopping at her lips. “You know, this smart ass mouth is only good for one thing. You know what that is, Princess?” “No.” “No, what?” She huffed. “No, sir.” Noah smirked. “It’s good for fucking my cock.” Her knees went weak, almost giving out. “Oh, god,” she whispered beneath her breath. “No god, baby. Just me.” 

Without another word, Noah reached for the satin tie around her neck, untied it, and allowed the front of the dress to fall to her hips, revealing her upper torso to his starving eyes. Her breasts were fully exposed. Their dark centers contrasted against her pale skin and their hardened, pebble-like, nipples waited eagerly for his mouth, but instead, he used his hands and smothered them with his massive palms and long fingers, pinching and pulling them just enough to pull the noises out of her he wanted. Snaking his hand behind her head, he grabbed a handful of hair.

“Look at me,” he ordered, yanking her head back. The look of lust in her eyes made the animal in him come alive. “Keep your eyes on me.” Noah unzipped the dress, pushing it down past her hips until it layed in a puddle on the floor, around her feet. He raked his eyes up and down her body, surprised by the sheer red panties she wore. “God damn, those are hot,” he praised her, knowing that she had a praise kink. “I can already see how soaked your pretty little pussy is for me,” he grinned, shifting his eyes from between her legs and back up to her face. 

 Softly, he kissed her forehead, stoking the fire inside her that was burning for him. “You make me insane, you know that?” Noah brushed the loose strands of hair way from her collarbone, placing his lips there and sucking hard. His hands travelled to her bare ass, pushing her pussy harder against his growing bulge. A needy whimper fell from her lips. “I really did think about murdering every motherfucker down there who looked at you the way they did.” Noah confessed, thrusting slowly against her. She grinded on him, meeting each movement he made, speeding up the inevitable. “Don’t be jealous, Noah. You know I belong to you. My heart is yours,” sliding her hands around his neck and pressing her bare breast against his chest. She kissed beneath his neck, ghosting his skin with her lips. Noah sighed, letting his head fall back for a moment before grabbing her wrists and pushing her back. 

“Then on your knees for me, princess, and show your king just how much you love to pleasure him,” he ordered. “Yes?” The heated look he gave her was enough to ignite the explosion inside her. “Yes,” she answered, about to get on her knees, but Noah stopped her. Taking the black tie, he wrapped it tightly around her eyes, blackening everything around her. “Yes, what?” “Yes, sir.”

With a subtle grunt, he nodded and she dropped to her knees. Her fingers undid his belt, yanking it harder than she meant to and the low moan he made told her he didn’t mind. His black dress pants fell to the floor, revealing the tented pair of black boxers beneath them. Shifting into the right position, she began her work, bringing her mouth to the tip of his cock still covered by the dark fabric. She didn’t touch him, only played with it as if it were her favorite toy. The slight sighs and groans that fell from above were beautiful, and she hadn’t even touched him yet. Tugging on the boxers, she pulled them down, freeing his cock that was seeping with precum. Noah brought it to her lips, spreading his juices over them until she was licking it from off her mouth and then his head. 

Oh! Fuck!” Noah moaned loudly. “Fucking, god-”choking on a slight cry the moment she took him entirely into her mouth and all the way down to the base like a pro. He thrusted into her, slighting fucking himself between her lips before the faint choking sounds and the gagging echoed throughout the room. Each time he thrusted hard, he hit the back of her throat, his muscles tightening the closer he got. He ran his hands through his hair, seething when her fingernails dug into his skin to hold him still. Thrust after thrust, Noah ripped intoxicating mewls from her pretty mouth until throbbing and twitching became consistent. “That’s it, princess, fuck your king’s cock with that pretty mouth. Take every bit of what I’m giving you!” he panted, trying to keep himself together. “Use your hand. Jerk me off while you're sucking me, baby. Oh, fuck yeah, just like that. So good, princess. You look fucking beautiful with my dick in your mouth.”

Spit trickled down her chin, and her hand was soaked, making it easier to slide up and down with her mouth. “I can only imagine how wet that fucking cunt of yours is, right now,” Noah said breathlessly. He was almost there. “I want to feel it. I want my tongue inside you, licking you up and fucking you just as good as your fucking me right now. Goddammit, princess,” he moaned, matching the thrusting of her mouth and hand with his hips. He was coming apart for her, and fast. 

She sucked on his head, using the tip of her tongue to trace his tip. “Fuck! Baby, I’m almost there,” he confessed, breathlessly. His hands wrapped around her face, holding her in place as he began to pump his dick in and out of her mouth ruthlessly. “Yeah, put it all the way down your throat. Good girl. Let your king fuck your mouth like the dirty little submissive that you are.” Her eyes watered each time he pounded the back of her throat. Noah was a panting mess. The overwhelming feeling was too much. “Stop! I said stop,” he cried, pulling the back of her hair. But she didn’t. Finally, Noah came, shooting his cum straight to the back of her throat. There was so much, she couldn’t swallow all of it and it spilled out, leaking down the front of her between her breasts.

“Fuck! Oh g-god,” he stuttered. He couldn’t think straight, completely wrecked. “You didn’t fucking listenten to me when I told you to stop,” he barked, anger clearly in his tone. “I didn’t think you really wanted me to,” she confessed without looking up at him. She didn’t need the blindfold off to know he was pissed. 

She was right. Noah didn’t want her to, but that’s not how the rules work. Noah's chest heaved up and down. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, pushing his hair back. “I have to punish you, now. You disobeyed. You know I don’t like it when you do.” “Then, I will gladly accept my punishment,” she said bravely. Noah flinched. She was challenging him and he knew why. 

“Get up.” She rose to her feet quickly. “Get on the bed; all the way up by the pillows. Move them out of the way,” Noah commanded, following her. The bed dipped and shifted until their bodies came together. He grabbed her hips, pulling her back against him, tucking his arms under hers. His hands found her breasts, latching onto them and squeezing them hard, pinching her nipples between his thumbs and fingers while taking the lobe of her ear between his teeth. “You are not allowed to touch me, do you understand?” A soft moan followed by a whimper could be heard. Noah’s hands travelled down towards her pussy, wasting no time in punishing her. He slipped a finger low, teasing the edge of the lips of her pussy that coated the tip with her arousal. With a sharp gasp, she arched her back as Noah sunk into her heat, groaning deep from the feeling of her already tightening around him. A slight cry escaped her, but Noah threw his hand over her mouth. “Don’t you dare make a sound. Not until I say you can,” he said sharply against her ear. “It may be your birthday, but that doesn’t mean you're above your punishment. Lock your arms around my back, now.”

Quickly obeying Noah smiled in satisfaction as he began to finger her harder, plunging a second finger deep into her soaked cunt, penetrating her walls so easily as she writhed against him. “Disobey me again, and you’re getting spanked.” She muffled a moan as Noah fucked her cunt ruthlessly, taking whatever satisfaction he got out of it. She pushed against him, needing to feel him deeper, needing to cum so badly. “Fuck, your pussy is so soaked for me. Uh, god,” Noah sighed. “Look at you, making a mess on me, ,” he said, pulling his fingers out and looking at how they glistened. “Lick them. Taste yourself on me.” Once Noah removed his hand from off her mouth, she eagerly took his fingers into her mouth, sucking her own juices from them and moaning from the taste as she rutted her ass against his hard length. “You’re so fucking sexy,” Noah praised her. The dominant in him was starting to fail as he was slowly unraveling from the way she knew she owned him. Removing his fingers, he yanked her head back by the hair and slammed his mouth on hers, tasting the little bit of her juices that lingered, making him want more. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that. Out of my goddamn mind. I can’t, with you,” pulling her back and ripping the blindfold from off her eyes just so that he could look at her. 

“I love you, Noah,” she said softly, knowing she’d just broken another rule. He smiled softly back at her, kissing the end of her nose. “I love you, too, but you broke another rule. Now, I’ll have to fuck you like the slut you are, and give you a spanking. But something’s telling me that’s exactly what you want, isn’t it, princess?” The sweetness quickly left Noah’s eyes. He forced her head forward, gentle enough for her to know he  loved her, too, but hard enough that she knew who was really in charge. “Grab the headboard,” he ordered, taking her hips and moving her into the position he wanted her in. “You don’t cum on my cock until I say you can,” bringing his hand down on her ass with a hard, loud smack. She screamed his name, just as Noah unmercifully slammed into her, breaking through her inner walls and claiming what was his, just like a ruthless king would do.He fucked her hard, pulling out often just to do it all over again, spanking the other ass cheek and leaving a mark. Her needy moans became cries and screams of pleasure, begging him not to stop when his head hit so deep into her.

“Tell me princess, who owns you?” He growled, loud and clear. “Y-you do, Noah.” “Louder!” “You!” she cried, as the slapping of their skin together filled the room. “Good girl. Your body is mine to fuck whenever I want, am I right?” “Yes, sir,” she whimpered. “Oh f-fuck. Noah, please, I need to cum. I’m almost,” she gasped, gripping the headboard as hard as she could. “No fucking way, I didn’t say you could,” flipping her over onto her back. She was a writhing mess, beautifully fucked to perfection according to Noah’s standards. It was time he gave her what she wanted, a perfect ending to her birthday. Leaning down into her, Noah brushed the hair from off her wet forehead, slowly kissing her lips.

He slipped his swollen cock back inside her, moaning from the way she slipped over him like a glove. “Fuck, baby, you’re pussy was made for my cock. You feel so good,” he whispered, hiking her leg higher around his waist. “Have you had enough, yet?” She nodded slowly, meeting his eyes for the first time in a while. Noah grinned. “I’m going to be mean and say I’ll tell you when you’ve had enough. Now, tell me who’s the king of this fucking pussy?” pushing himself up off her and placing her legs over his shoulders, only to sink deeper down into her until the pressure was too much. “Noah, you are, baby,” she cried, running her nails down his toned, tattooed arms. “It’s yours. I’m yours.” They kept eye contact for a long moment as Noah switched up his pace, making every thrust and drive into her, slower and more full that she could feel the entirety of his length each time he sunk down into her. “Give it to me, princess” he encouraged with no demand. “Let go, let me feel it, baby,” he cooed, kissing her sweetly. “Cum for me, please, do it now,” he begged, taking her arms and wrapping them around his neck. She clung to him as he buried his face in her neck, working every part of her opened as she willingly submitted to his demands.  

“Noah,” she gasped, whining softly. “Don't stop. Please don't stop. I'm so close.” 

“Shhh, I don't plan to, baby. Just please, turn those beautiful eyes up and look at me so I can watch you fall apart with me inside you.” There was a fever of desperation in him that she had never heard before and the second she locked eyes with Noah's, she surrendered completely to him, as she reached her full climax, her orgasm sweeping through her entire body. Muffled screams echoed off the walls. Her nails raked down Noah's back as her toes curled. Noah couldn’t control his urges any longer, cumming for a second time that night except this time filling her with his seed. 

The ride home was a quiet one. She drifted off between staying awake and falling asleep, all the while holding onto Noah’s hand tightly. It was hard for him to keep his eyes on the road. He kept looking over at her, feeling like the luckiest man in the world. “I love you. You’re beautiful,” he told her. She raised her sleepy up and smiled at him. “I love you, too, Noah.” Once she was asleep and he managed to get his hand back, Noah grabbed his phone to send a quick text to Jolly. A few minutes later, Jolly responded with the answer he was hoping for. 

“Hey, princess, wake up, baby, we’re home,” Noah roused her from sleep. She stretched and got out of the car as Noah grabbed her heels and picked her up into his arms and carried her inside. His heart was pounding hard and his nerves were on fire. Noah was starting to think his idea might’ve been a mistake, that maybe wasn’t ready to take the plunge he was about to. Dropping the shoes and keys on the floor, he managed to lock the door before heading upstairs with her still sound asleep in his arms. As he looked down at her, Noah smiled. She was the prettiest, most perfect thing ever to him and he knew right then he had no reason to be afraid. The feeling he had for her would never go away. 

“Hey baby, I’m putting you down. Let’s get you out of this dress and into bed, okay?” She nodded against his chest. “Noah,” she sighed through a yawn, “ I love you. Thanks for loving me,” Noah’s heart exploded inside him. “I love you, too, princess,” he managed to whisper. He placed her on her feet, opening their bedroom door and guiding her in. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth the moment she realized what she was looking at. “Noah!,” she cried softly, covering her mouth with both hands. He smiled widely at her. “Happy birthday, Princess.” She threw her arms around his neck, kissing him over and over. “Thank you, my love! Thank you so much,” she whispered against his lips. “Go look, there’s more,” he urged, taking her hands. He followed her into the room, taking in every single second of the moment as he leaned against the doorframe with his hands shoved into his pockets.

When she turned around with tears sliding down her cheeks, Noah knew he’d found his forever. “Well, will you?” he asked, nervously. She smiled and expelled a slight laugh. “It’s about fucking time you asked me, Sebastian!” Noah grinned, pushing away from the door frame. “Yeah, I know. I’m a little slow,” he admitted walking up to her and taking the small ring from her. “So, is that a yes? Marry me and have babies with me?” he asked, taking her left hand and slipping the ring onto her ring finger. It fit perfectly. “It fits, so I guess so,” she joked, embarrassing him and locking him in a sloppy, yet happy kiss. “Ugh, god, is that the only reason?” he mumbled against her lips, laughing. “No.” she giggled. “I love you, Noah. Yes, I’ll marry you and have babies with you!” “Thank god,” he sighed dramatically. “I was beginning to think you 're going to tell me to get lost.” “Well, you know,” “Hey now!” Noah laughed, poking her in the sides as she laughed. Picking her up again, he tossed her onto the bed full of rose petals. “Happy Birthday, beautiful,” he said, sliding her dress up around her waist, and removing her panties. “I’ve got one more gift for you. I hope you’ll like it,” he teased, giving her sly smile before diving deep into her sex, and giving her another gift she’d always remember.

[8figurehustler]

Why I Would Choose Faceless Digital Marketing | 💰💰💰

So boom—let’s talk about this whole “you have to be an influencer to make money online” narrative. Because… be for real. Every time you go online, it’s the same thing: “Get ready with me,” “A day in my life,” vlogs, skincare routines, cute lil voiceovers, and people’s faces everywhere. And if you’re not doing that?, people make it seem like you’re not going to make it. And listen, there’s nothing wrong with that path. Influencers make bank.

But here’s the thing—I don’t think that’s the only way to win.

Like yes, influencers make money. Big money. No one’s denying that. But what if you’re not trying to be recognized when you’re just trying to buy milk? What if you want the coins without the constant attention? What about the people who want digital success, not fame? Because yes, those people exist. I’m kind of one of them. I’ll show my face here and there, sure, but I’m not trying to make it the foundation of my entire brand. And honestly? I like it that way. I want peace and the bag. Yup, now that’s where faceless digital marketing comes in.

Fame? Cute. Privacy? Cuter.

I’m not hating on influencers at all, but let’s keep it real—most people don’t actually want to be famous. It comes with random people all up in your business. If you’re constantly marketing your face or your body, you’re giving up a part of your privacy. And not everyone wants that. Some people just want to get the bag without the attention. And they should be able to. They just want freedom. Freedom from a 9–5, freedom to make their own money, and freedom to live their lives quietly and peacefully. And yes, that’s possible.

You don’t have to put your face all over the internet to get that kind of success. You can stay lowkey, still run things, and still eat.

Your Face Is Not a Forever Investment

This might sound a lil harsh, but hear me out—looks fade, trends change, and the internet moves on quick. One day your face is the next big thing, the next day… it’s crickets. And if your whole brand is based on your face, that’s gonna be a problem. What do you think is going to happen when you don’t look the same way you did 10 years ago? Your audience might not stay loyal once the hype dies down.

But when you go faceless, you’re not selling your looks—you’re selling your ideas, your vibe, your content. And baby, those things don’t wrinkle. They don’t age. They grow. There’s always someone out there who’s going to connect with your style, your message & your brands content.

You Can’t Leave Your Face in a Will

Let’s talk legacy real quick. If your whole brand is you—your name, your face, your voice—then what happens when you’re not around anymore?

You can’t pass down your face. But you can pass down a faceless brand. A blog. A digital product. A faceless business that’s running even while you’re asleep, offline, or chilling in the next life (not to be dramatic but you get it). With faceless digital marketing, you can actually build generational wealth. This perspective changes for those idols like Michael Jackson or whoever.

Aesthetic Never Dies

You know what doesn’t go out of style? A strong aesthetic. A clear brand. A message that clicks. When you build something that’s about the vibe—not just the face—it can last way longer.

People are always gonna be drawn to a certain style, a certain type of content, a certain feeling. That’s the kind of brand that lives forever, no matter who’s running it or what year it is.

Quiet Money Is Still Money

Let’s not act like loud money is the only flex. Quiet money? Peaceful money? That “nobody knows what I do but I’m living good” type of money? That’s elite.

Faceless digital marketing gives you that. You’re not worried about how you look today, what’s trending, or who’s watching. You’re just running your business, stacking your wins, and minding your pretty lil business.

Real Success Doesn’t Always Look Like a Selfie

Faceless digital marketing gives you range. You can run a blog, build an email list, create digital products, invest, trade, or even flip domains—without ever showing your face. It’s all about strategy, not selfies.

And that doesn’t make it less valuable or less successful. In fact, it often means more freedom, more scalability, and way less burnout.

⸻

Spoiler alert: fast money, don’t last. 💰

That’s my take. Not knocking the influencer lane, but for me? I’m here for the faceless life. I want my money long, my brand strong, and my face nowhere near the stress.

And if you’re feeling me on this, you should definitely check out my other blog post where I talk about why I don’t think influencing builds long-lasting wealth.

Read Why I Think Influencers Won’t Make A Lasting Fortune

⸻

Start monetising your pinterest, through paid ad, affiliates and more : click here

Grow your pinterest account to a million monthly views in less than 6 months and get it ready for digital marketing : click here

[dangopango00]

ABYSS RAZOR CRUSH HCS BC IF I DONT GET SOME CONTENT I WILL DIE

Abyss Razor x gn reader

Prompt: yall r madly in love he has a crush on youuu (boyfail situationship hcs more like tbh)

A/N: sorry if this is rambly i cant live like this i keep rereading the same 4 or 5 posts over and over again ive been waiting for like a year and im getting teased with the tip PLEASEEE WRITE HIM 😭😭🤞 i cant ever escape the ‘nobodys fave but mine’ curse help

Ily losermen

Ily high ponytail men

Ily abyss razor

more utc

- Im gonna jump he is so kewt. Idek what to say im just ill

- You’d probably often compliment his eyes and you have this image that hes so calm and collected— which he is! But! Not with you! So every conversation with you is him just fighting for his life trying to look cool and not implode at the same time

- ^^^ THIS is one thing. But what really gets him falling for you is when you get a bit closer and have a talk with him, telling him in no uncertain terms that he’ll always have someone to return to if others are cruel because you won’t be leaving him

- Gives you things VERY often, usually little things because hed die if he had to directly give you a gift and then have to explain why, so he shows his affection in little ways like letting you have his best pencils and pens if you need it (lets you keep it too)

- oh he absolutely loses it if he sees you continue to use his pen hes so touched that you’re taking good care of what he gives you it shows that it means a lot to you and that he means a lot to you

- The only actual gift he gives you during this stage are things he has an excuse for like origami (idk why but i feel like he makes cool ass origami) he can just say he made too many so hes giving them away yet you and maybe Abel are the only ones who received some…

- He wants so badly to be useful to you he gets so flustered and happy just hearing you say thanks when he answers your question about the assignment or when he lends you his materials

- Immediately stiffens when you make any sort of contact. Dont stop though, he can count the times hes been hugged on one hand

- Speaking of his touch starvation, he’d let you play with his hair and looks forward to it tbh he’d just rather not initiate anything it’s too much for his heart

- If you have him take down his hair and play with it (like braid it or try different hairstyles) he’d feel so content; ofc he’s nervous but at the same time he just feels so at peace as if it’s only you two in the world and all the people who have ever wronged him never existed in the first place

- He’s a little bit delulu, i fear

- He gets so nervous texting and calling you bc what if you tell him ily. No that could never happen. Wait but what if it did— do you see his dilemma?

- He’s a chronic overthinker and in a way its a bit sweet because he used to worry about you randomly saying you didn’t want to be friends with him but now he wouldn’t even consider that possibility; it just no longer enters his mind

- He’d also find himself drifting off, losing himself in thought and end up daydreaming about if you two were in a relationship

- It’s very innocent, it’s just you two being cute and going places together while holding hands and such until it drifts even further to imagining you two kissing

- His face is on fire and he has to stop thinking NOW but hes in too deep hes imagining kissing ice cream off the side of your mouth and other cliches like that it’s so over

- Abel wondering wth is wrong with his right hand; all he said was that he was going to make mother happy by doing his homework today meanwhile Abyss can no longer be normal

- The kissing is just his guilty pleasure but Abyss constantly imagines holding hands with you like if you walk too close to him his hands will get clammy and his fingertips will get cold because he wants to hold your hand but is scared to initiate it

- God forbid you actually hold his hand even for a second while he’s having his entire internal monologue. He will die. You killed him. How could you?

- He won’t let go though like. Ever . Handholding is his favorite thing 5ever and as soon as he gets a taste he’s hooked

- He likes handholding so much that if you held his hand enough times then one time he’d accidentally grab your hand and initiate for once (immediately gets flustered after but it counts)

- Really really REALLY likes when u trace over his magic lines. Ruins his life everytime and he just melts in your touch; subconsciously leans in and his face softens and EVERYTHING

- Ok i wasn’t gonna say it bc itd probably involve sm sneaking but: Sleepovers. IM JUST SAYING 🤞🤞🤞 I feel like this is where most of the softer moments happen tbh like your roommate being out and you two have a sleepover

- I think this is where the playing with his hair and tracing the lines on his face would happen if not this then when you’re bored in class

- Not a fan of PDA even if ur not dating so he does play with your hair but usually during the sleepovers if you’ll allow him (not quite trying new hairstyles like you do but letting it fall through his fingers, running his hands through it or just rubbing the ends with his fingers to feel how soft it is)

- If you are bald he would slightly hold the back of your head and rub your temples with his thumb to help you relax

- Idk ik i just went on about how hes a loser but I feel like when it comes to affection relating to hair or like anything not affectionate in a cliche sense he doesn’t really pay attention and does it without thinking; only realizes its too affectionate if you point it out (please do not, he feels very comfortable right now. He will stop and never do it again if you point it out)

- You have a lot of deep talks and give him encouraging words during sleepovers tbh it just gives you both time to just… enjoy each other uninterrupted

- Sometimes instinctually distances himself from you because you make his heart do somersaults and his head feels like it’ll explode around you though he doesn’t last long, he needs you with him everyday atp 😭

- Although the above is true, sometimes he gets clingy ish (just by your side all the time) and protective over you even knowing you aren’t his

A/N: a ridonkulous amount of these r based on things ive done erm. Ok. Ig next thing i should write is him with an equally loser gf i def fit the bill LOL

[chimggukchim]

Toxicity

As someone who has been in this fandom for over seven years now, and have watched the timeline as both a non-shipper and someone who saw something different with jikook's bond eventually, I can safely say that most of the toxicity we see now on the timeline was not there before.

And I can also safely say that it is because back then...NOBODY CARED to hype up WRONG TAKES and blatant DELUSION.

And I know that some (possibly even most) of you may disagree, and that's fine, but I'm not going to change my stance.

Toxicity/Insults/Lies...these have always been present, but was kept in the background because no one focused on that nonsense. Jikookers just focused on Jungkook and Jimin, and their bond.

I saw little to no Taekook nonsense to the point that I didn't even know that was a viable 'ship'.

But now...EVERYONE feels the need to be a white knight when they spot the DUMBEST post from the most INSIGNIFICANT account, thus giving it life, and allowing it to spread to the masses, and making the entire thing seem like bigger than it really is. And then the toxicity builds.

People need to understand something:

Toxic People, including toxic Taekookers, Solo Fans, Akgaes, and Antis will NEVER CHANGE their outlook no matter how much you argue with them. NEVER. EVER. They're brainless. They thrive on being toxic, riling people up, and getting that engagement. And what you do when you engage, is give them what they want - Validity.

So please for the love of all that is holy in Jikookland...in the great words of Princess Elsa...LET IT GO.

Don't focus on the 'hate' that shippers are throwing Jikook's/Jungkook's/Jimin's way because that is no longer the reality of their existence.

@taekooklover435 posts that Jungkook is being forced to interact with Jimin while being secretly married with 2.5 kids to Taehyung? Sure, @taekooklover435! You go ahead and believe that. Whatever floats your boat.

What we should not be doing is fighting @taekooklover435 down, arguing that this isn't true, that Jungkook never hated Jimin. That's a lie people spread. Go back and look at real content. Believe the words of the boys. Yada yada yada - It won't make a difference. @taekooklover435 will continue to believe that nonsense, and you just gave them more exposure with that nonsense.

Leave them in their own sorrowful, pitiful well.

Nothing...NOTHING they post will change REALITY.

And likewise, non-shipper ARMYs not posting about jikook content like we would like them to, will not change REALITY.

So why fight all that? Why fight against the one thing that no one can win against?...STUPIDITY!

The only thing we can control is the environment in which we interact with each other. WE can choose to cleanse our timeline of nonsense takes that we KNOW is nonsense yet want to fight and bring it back onto the timeline. WE can live in a very happy, stress-free, peaceful jikookland if WE truly wanted to.

I wish my fellow jikookers can hopefully see some sense and just stop engaging with stupidity.

I know it's hard, and we itch to respond most times, but just think of how amazing our timelines would be if we chose to just engage with each other instead? Hype EACH OTHER'S post up instead?

[the-specter]

Hello again Inkfish of the digital realm.

I do not want to start this with a "I have returned" but rather as a declaration of apology.

...I was not in the right mindset. Everything had gotten too much for me to handle over the past few months. From Big Big Run, to the Grand Run, to the return of Wahoo World, I've gone down a spiral of bad mental health. The ghosts of the past roared in my ears, screaming for vengeance of an unfair war, screaming for freedom. I acted out of selfishness, believing myself to be the only one who could make change. I was afraid that if I didn't do something now, the rest of Salmonid civilization would fall.

I hurt so many unlucky Inkfish in Wahoo World, and hurt so many of their families. The horrors of war drive us to do unjust things. Death is a part of life, a part of the cycle, but...it doesn't feel that way anymore. No longer are our warriors given the proper funerals they were promised. They are left to rot.

Inkfish, it is not your fault. It never has been. It's never been ours either.

It's just...a difference in viewpoint. This war will never end, and we will never fully combine our worlds for the rest of time. We all want to preserve our culture, and we all have the right to do that. To live, to die, all in our own cycles in life.

But that way of life and death is being threatened. Earlier this month, Lee received a message, worry some at least and terrifying at best. Lee told me about it, crossing the ocean to find me. The message sent me on a path to reassess my situation and return to a better state of mentality. I know I am a monster to many, and I see myself as that, but I could at least make peace with my existence and become something better.

A mentor, a guide, a fairer of the dead, an observer, a learner, a force of nature, that force being peaceful. As I once was.

Mitraphylysis is one of the multiple Salmonid 'gods' that we believe in. And if Cohozuna, Horrorboros, and Megalodontia tell Inkfish anything, our gods are very real. This creature is the bringer of the end, the king of kings, the summoner of the end of the salmon run. The message Lee received was from it.

It has been growing in strength ever since the Grand Run, and...I can feel it moving under the deepest parts of the sea. It's like my own flesh is crawling beneath my skin and scales, like a slimy eel trying to break out. It disgusts me far more than any interaction with the spirits lost at sea ever will.

The most furious of the Salmonid clans are summoning it, feeding it, nurturing it. If they can't win, nobody will.

I don't want the world to end. The cycle must continue, the cycle of life and death must never break. Despite the damages done to it by Grizzco, it still runs. We still swim upstream despite the odds, clinging onto the hope that our children will live and carry the culture of the Salmonid race on. Life is an experience that is haunting yet beautiful. Life cannot start without death. Death is only a part of life.

We can't let the world end. Lee needs me, just like how a young creature needs their mother. I...I get emotional. Over how much I love the kid. They've been through so much, so much like me. We even have similar face markings. I've hurt them through my madness, and I want to redeem myself to them. I can't redeem myself to the ones I hurt or even murdered.

But I want to help. We cannot let Mitraphylysis destroy the beautiful experience we call life.

I am your ally in this fight. To the young lady who preached for a better tomorrow, I apologize, and I want to say that I recognize you, and I want to help you.

Let us protect the planet from the end of the salmon run.

[the-forests-blessing]

Chapter 12

Summer comes to a slow and gradual end within the passing weeks. The changing of seasons arrives with cold air and ruffling leaves dancing together in the wind, or scattering against the brick pavement in town. Strangely enough, the downpours that typically mark the arrival of fall cease to present themselves, instead leaving the memories of moody clouds and heavy rainfall back in summer. In fact, Lukas hasn’t seen the rain since the evening prior to the day he was introduced to the bakery, and started the cycle of giving the Admin his fresh baked offerings.

     From August to September, Lukas spends the rest of his first official month in BeaconTown, attending to the forest and its mysteries, while also coming to accept that as much as he wanted to avoid the town and its problems, learning about the forest's destruction as well as the misunderstood Admin himself; he knows that avoiding these problems is no longer a possibility. Not when the preservation of nature is at stake, as well as the lives of the individuals who live there. 

     As time passes, Lukas finds it odd that the Admin hunters are no longer seeking him out for questions, nor are they simply getting in his way just to bother him and send him back to the forest in a bad mood. In fact, it's been strangely peaceful around town, something of which keeps Lukas on edge, believing it's a bit too good to be true. 

     Radar and Nell have been more active in his life. This was annoying and unwanted attention at first, the author only really using them to gain more information and then brushing their existence off without another care. This, of course, along with his revelation towards his own rude behavior to the Admin, was a turning point in Lukas. 

     He’s not one to try and get to know people. There’s no point when you’re a traveler like him. Relationships just… don’t work. All his previous attempts in the past have failed, so why get started now? After all these years? Even if he did make that connection, it would all fall through the roof when he has to leave again. 

     Despite all odds, Lukas found Radar and Nell’s company to be surprisingly more enjoyable as time went on. He didn’t come to BeaconTown expecting to make friends. He doesn’t go anywhere expecting to make friends. It just isn’t something that clicks with him, so the first few times interacting with the two, Lukas was sure to keep conversations brief before the awkwardness rolled over into discomfort.

     Now though, Lukas sees them both just about every single day. 

     …And they’re happy to see him.

     Such a troublesome duo. Lukas will lay awake staring up at the pitch black ceiling in his room until the clock strikes midnight thinking of their strange behavior. That is, of course, when his mind takes a break from thinking of the Admin, or the gaggle of rowdy hunters who act like they own the town.

     He’s been going to the bakery on a near daily basis now, acquiring fresh baked goods for himself, Allay, and Admin. It definitely made some brows raise at the sight of a fit person like him coming in to order another generous amount of goodies before returning the next day empty handed for more. Lukas just brushes it off with the implications he’s saving up for when he leaves town officially. 

     Radar and Nell both know of his frequent day trips to the woods, and while both of them in the beginning were quite frightful for Lukas’ safety, their demeanors have since calmed, and the two instead ask about his day rather than quiz him on what he’s seen or hasn’t seen. 

     Nobody will ever know he’s actively seeing the Admin. Even hinting at the idea of Lukas seeing him can put them both in serious danger. He thinks ahead of time with this in mind, going so far as to logging a secondary journal with copious amounts of forest details that keep the two nosy BeaconTowner’s curiosity sated. Radar really enjoys the wildlife passages, while Nell specifically wants all the creepy crawly details on bugs… To Lukas’ dismay.

     That being said, it’s a strange feeling having people be so open and honest with their interest in what Lukas is doing. Typically, in the past, Lukas is always the one going around asking questions and seeking answers whether it be for ecological purposes, or desire for basic knowledge. Radar and Nell have been a strange turning point in his life, actively seeking out his participation with them around town or even just to ‘hang out’. Nobody’s ever… wanted to hang out with him before. Lukas was stuck on that question for hours after it had been said and done. 

     This… friendship… that he’s developing with the two. He isn’t sure how comfortable he is with it. While he does enjoy finally having people to talk to about his travels and learnings of the world, he can only foresee that this connection may cause trouble in the future. 

     After this long week and a half, Lukas has made great effort in mapping out the dense woodland of the Admin’s shrouded territory. He even stored himself up in the library for a good chunk of the late night hours one evening to inquire in some cartography literature. Anything to help him better understand the practice, as well as give him insight on how forest cartography should be handled. At the end of the study, he decided to 'check out' the library book. Taking it with him in hopes of understanding its pages better once he’s actually amongst the dark trees and the maze-like twists and turns they send him in. 

     When he does come back to the forest, he’s drawn to his normal path that brought him here in the very beginning. Climbing up that fallen tree to scale up the steep slopes, past that mossy boulder that sits by its lonesome in a patch of ferns and grass, then absconding into the dense fog that keeps the Admin’s forest overshadowed and protected. 

     When he enters the ancient woods, he is always sure to stop by that small clearing where the azure bluet’s grow. With passing time, the patch has flourished, as well as the grass bedding it. Here is where Lukas leaves his basket of goods for the Admin and his Allay. Lukas has kept up on his own personal promise, which is to keep himself a safe and comfortable distance from the Admin to avoid further conflict or discomfort. 

     Unfortunately, his interest in the Admin is undying no matter how much distance he puts between them both, but he knows this is for the better. If the deity truly wanted him around, then Lukas is sure he’d ask for it, or at the very least attempt to linger for it, but with most interactions that have come between them since he first gave him the cookie, which is already far and few between, well… 

     He’s always met with that pensive, glowing turquoise stare. The very few times the Admin has put himself on Lukas’ path of adventure, the deity does nothing more than gaze ominously down at him. Almost in expectation of something, but that something, Lukas has no idea what it is. So he smiles at the Admin, telling him he hopes he’s having a good day before passing by without another word. The distance between them grows as Lukas walks, and he can feel the familiar chill of being watched, prickling with goosebumps of awareness crawling over his skin. 

     When he looks back, the space where the Admin once stood is then empty. 

     The forest dweller is as much of a mystery as the town surrounding him. Lukas truly doesn’t know what to make of him. He’s spent countless hours researching gods and goddesses, and even religious figures, just to get some sort of insight as to what the Admin could be. Heck, he even indulged in some laugh worthy articles on the ghostly, stalker-like entity, Herobrine. Just like everything else, nothing of value turns up, so Lukas is brought back to square one and leaves the topic alone until his curiosity is piqued yet again. 

     This has got to be some sort of cruel form of psychological torture. In a place where everyone is forced to keep their mouths shut about the one thing he wants to learn, Lukas feels himself getting stir crazy. He’s itching to ask more about the Admin to Radar and Nell, and he’s silent with his desperation for knowledge from the big guy himself. But Radar and Nell are too shaken up to spill the beans, and Admin is, well… Mute, while also very menacing, to say the least. 

     The Allay is the one presence in the forest that seems to be genuine with its intentions of making friends with Lukas. The floaty blue sprite is gentle and playful in nature, always showing up soon after Lukas enters the forest. There've been many bonding moments between himself and this little fairy, from playing fetch with the mouse it's kept in its inventory, to sharing lots of treats, and Lukas even taking the time to show off his journals to it. There was even a day where Lukas had the little creature napping in his lap while he re-read his current draft. As time went by, the Allay was far less timid with Lukas, and has even allowed him to touch it. 

     With a gentle hand, he reached down to where the Allay napped in his lap, petting its head, and frail body. So soft… Almost silky smooth in texture. The feeling of this creature is neither hot nor cold. Lukas wonders how that is. Then there was a brief second of horrified panic when Lukas realized the little creature wasn’t breathing, so he gave its cheek a nudge, to which it woke up and blinked up at him with confusion. Creators, it took minutes for Lukas’ racing heart to ease down and for his nerves to relax. 

     Another log for his journal:

     The Allay cannot be classified as a living organism. Unlike your typical organism, whether it be a mammal, insect, fish, or plant species, the Allay itself lacks the organs, or basic cell structure that is required to qualify it as such. Instead, within its small body resides a faint, blue glow. The longer I watch the glow, the more I am able to notice a somewhat dull, pulsating light emitting from it. I’m uncertain as to if this glow is its lifeforce. Further research will be required.

     On top of notes similar to that, a good portion of his journal is filled out with doodles of the Allay, as well as the research he partakes in when the creature allows it. Like wingspan, height, weight. He even went as far as asking the Allay itself questions like, “what do you like?”, to which the creature would show him the toy mouse. Lukas shook his head. “Other things. What would you play with before you got the mouse?” He asked, and the Allay responded by floating around their surroundings, picking up pebbles, then offering them to him. 

     “Rocks?” Lukas looked down into his palm where the pebbles lay, feeling a pang of pity for this friendly little spirit. Who knows how long it's been out here? With nothing to play with but rocks and other items only found within its habitat. It’s no wonder the Allay jumped at the opportunity to take a toy, a real toy for itself when it did. Lukas has already made the decision to let Allay keep it, with hopes that Dewey will understand. After all, the Allay has taken a liking to it, and Dewey is always excited about getting new play-things. 

     As for the Admin… 

     Lukas’ gift giving has seemingly struck a chord within the deity. 

     Nearly every day, aside from the days Lukas stays back in town, he has brought the basket back packed full of goodies for the Admin and Allay. Allay is always there on time to meet him, which leads Lukas to believe the little spirit has begun to wait for his return. Anyways, he brings the basket back and drops it off at the azure bluet’s clearing. Here, he leaves it for the day, his offering to the Admin for allowing him to continue to tread through his forest. 

     The first week was what he’d expect. The occasional run-ins with the Admin lead to a staring contest that always depicts Lukas as the famed loser. The second week though… Lukas was shocked to return to the clearing as he was heading back to town. He was going to grab the now empty basket just as usual, only to find its surface sprinkled with dirt and… something being left in the confines of the cloth? 

     Lukas immediately knelt down and dug into it, wondering if an animal had come by in an attempt at tampering with the food, only to unravel the cloth and find…

      Rocks?

     Lukas’ confusion could not be any more plain as day. He sifted through the bundled up cloth and found not just any ordinary rocks, but… “Basalt?” The blond holds the igneous rock up, turning it over in his hand. “But.. how? Basalt only forms in volcanic environments.” Looking around, he stuffs the basalt into one of his chest pockets on his adventure gear. As for the other two rocks in the bundle, they all look to be different pieces of fine-grained basalt. 

     Lukas doesn’t know what to make of this. 

     Is this Admin trying to tell him the baked goods he’s been bringing him are dense or bland, tasting like rocks? Today he’d brought honeybuns, ones that he tried and thoroughly enjoyed taste and texture wise. He certainly didn't catch any rock-like attributes to the honeybuns.

     Lukas takes the rocks with him anyways, hoping to examine them closer to see if this basalt is anything different compared to the types in his Nether notebook. 

     The next day, Lukas returned and offered up something entirely different. Radar and Nell showed him to a small farmers market that shows up outside of town on certain weekdays. Too scared to set up in town, the farmers in the surrounding biome come together just on Beacon’s outskirts to offer their fresh produce. Lots of colorful tents, consisting of not only produce vendors, but also many craftsmen as well. Someone had a whole tent dedicated to their own custom birdhouses, something of which nearly made Lukas tear into his wallet. 

     The only reason he didn’t purchase one is because he realized, where exactly was he going to put it? He himself doesn’t even have a home yet, therefore Lukas promptly exits the tent and explores elsewhere. 

     Many of the BeaconTowner’s seem to enjoy this farmers market, as do Nell and Radar. Lukas certainly does, because it’s here he finds not only fresh fish, but was able to pick berries and fruits far sweeter and tastier than what the stalls in BeaconTown had to offer.

     The sweetberries were too good to pass up, and knowing that Allay and Admin both enjoy them, he decided to get a variety of berries. Sweetberries, blackberries, blueberries, they even had glow berries! But those were borderline sour. Good grief Lukas almost died resisting the urge to spit it out. After obtaining his own groceries, and what he wanted to offer the Admin, he went back to BeacInn and readied up. 

     That same day, the woven basket was filled up again once Lukas returned. Our author walked over, eyeing the basket with suspicion. Kneeling down, he searched through the confines of the cloth, noting that there was less dirt sprinkled about, but what he opened up to took him totally off guard. Lukas gawked down at what looked to be a piece of wood, but when he lifted it up, feeling along the glossy exterior with curious fingers, he realized what it truly was with a glimmer of excitement shining in his eyes. 

     This is petrified wood. He can’t get a notable distinction as to what colors reside within its layers due to the overshadowed forest, but feeling over its surface, he can tell this piece is something extraordinary. 

     It’s here where Lukas comes to a bone-chilling realization that made his stomach drop.

     These things… Could they possibly be gifts the Admin is offering him in return for the treats he brings back? While it does sound like a reach, he can't think up any other reason why the lonesome deity would offer him overworld rarities like basalt and petrified wood. 

     “Auugh no..” Lukas shakes his head. There's no way.. I feel like he hates me being here. Maybe he's just trying to return the favor because it's the kind thing to do, Lukas thinks with a shadow of guilt looming over him. I hope he doesn't think he has to do this for me. 

     The ecologist holds the wood in his hands, pondering on it in his gloomy surroundings. He feels bad, but he stuffs the wood piece into his satchel, then uses the straps to adjust the bag off his back and return it to reside over his shoulder once again. 

     That night, Lukas sat at his desk examining the petrified wood closely. It's unlike anything he's ever seen before in his life. The exterior is black, while the interior fades into a mix of dark purples and blues. Holding it under the warm lighting of his desk lamp, he can see that the object seems to glow at different angles as it reflects against the lighting. 

     “So cool…” Lukas draws out in a mesmerized whisper. “This specimen must have been buried somewhere where something extraordinary occurred. I can't imagine wood would go through the petrification process and turn out like this anywhere else in the world.” He turns it over in his hand, looking into the blurry and misshapen reflection of himself over the jagged surface. “Dewey, this has got to be the greatest thing our crystal collection has acquired to date,” he says, turning around in his chair to show the ocelot.

     Dewey, however, doesn't respond. Poor guy is knocked out on the bed for the night, exhausted from yet another adventure. 

     Lukas sighs, turning away to gaze down at the crystal he holds in his lap. He wishes he could express to the Admin how much he appreciates this object without the risk of annoying the grumpy god. 

     Lukas is at the point where he truly believes the deity may very well be incapable of expressing any other emotion. Maybe he's just.. the god of being in a bad mood. It certainly doesn't bother him like he feels it would if it were any other person. The Admin himself is something that would be talked about in folklore, or perhaps talked of in some obnoxious cryptid encyclopedia.

     Lukas always thought those books were such jokes. 

     …Now he isn't so sure.

     The Admin could very well fall in line with that, but Lukas is more confident with the godly descriptors as the man does wield strange powers beyond human comprehension. His existence absolutely baffles Lukas to this day, even after having knowledge of him for weeks now. He's got telekinetic powers. A broad, massive form that is an outlier to any normal human. That dark blue skin Lukas is finding himself captivated by as of late.. And those glowing eyes. 

     The pink tint on his cheeks goes unnoticed to the blond as he stands up from his desk and changes into his sleepwear. Lukas is aware he's become… conflicted with some emotions towards the Admin. He knows he's supposed to leave him alone and focus on his work, but it's hard to do that when the lonesome god is all he's thinking about as of late. It's a very strange feeling… Wanting someone's attention for once. Attention that isn't just being stared at, waiting for Lukas to say or do something when he knows he's better off not saying or doing anything. 

     Lukas grasps a pillow as he settles in bed, holding it in his arms while he shimmies in under the heavy duvet, also attempting to work his way under the sheets without disturbing Dewey. Before he closes his eyes, Lukas takes a long look outside the window, gazing out at the distant tree tops before nuzzling his face into the pillow and falling asleep. 

     Up turns a little black nose, pointing up towards the trees as it takes a few sniffs. A long, spotted tail flicks, while wide emerald eyes soak in all that surrounds them. Dewey stands on a tall rock, its surface overgrown with lush moss, making the jungle cat look stoic in the way he stands tall above the ocean of foliage encompassing the boulder. There’s a familiar scent that caught his attention. His black ears swivel around, zeroing in on the rushing sound before he finally pinpoints the direction its noise comes from. “Mmrrooow?” He meows, looking back towards his owner, the tall blond approaching him now with quite an impressive walking stick. 

     “Ahoy, Captain Dewey. Have yee found the treasure we seek?” Lukas gives his best pirate impression, making the ocelot deadpan and look back at him with the most unimpressed expression. “What? Can’t blame a guy for trying to have a little fun." Lukas reasons innocently, making his spotted companion roll his eyes and jump from the massive rock. He lands perfectly on his paws only a few feet from Lukas. Dewey gives the air a few good sniffs again, then points the white tip of his tail towards the direction of the distant sound. 

     “Well, lead the way, buddy.” Lukas gestures for him to press onward. The ocelot nods, then the two return to hiking their way through the forest.

     Another lovely day out in the Admin’s forest, though not as lively as usual… Allay has been nowhere to be seen for hours. The little sprite usually waits for Lukas to make his appearance at the clearing where he leaves sweet treats. He’s pretty confident that the spirit has caught on to his gift giving and eagerly waits for his return with something new in the morning, so it makes him feel terribly guilty the few days where he has decided to stay back in town and either catch up on rest, or work on his own writing. Just imagining the poor little guy waiting and waiting, just for nobody to show. 

     Lukas brought, and left cookies at the clearing again today, so he’s hoping that will make up for the missed time and treats. 

     Dewey bounds over twisting roots, springboards off flimsy limbs of fallen trees, and kicks up leaves as he surges across the forest floor. Lukas takes his time catching up thanks to the desire path he’s found himself following. The path is wide, providing a useful shortcut through the dense undergrowth. Lukas pays close attention to the ground at his feet, following a trodden path that’s been made from years of use from which he can only imagine who. 

     Soon enough, his ears perk at the sound of running water. Ocelot instincts ignite like a roaring fire, picking his boots up off the forest floor in an enthusiastic run. He runs closer and closer to the sound, and when it comes down to it, he’s having to bend down, pushing branches out of his way so he can squeeze himself in through a dense thicket of shrubs. 

     Lukas’ teal eyes widen, catching the glow of the warm sun reflecting in them, making his pools an ocean at sunset with the way he gazes up into the unbelievable sight he beholds. Emerging from the thicket, he walks out into a grassy space, and a view the massive gap in the trees that lies ahead of him. Between his side of the forest and the other lies a widespread river. The river is like that of a painted art piece. The water is calm, the trees around him are outstanding, and the sunbeams filtering in through the gap of the trees sheds an entirely new light to this part of the Admin’s forest. 

     Lukas closes his eyes and breathes in. The wind kicks up just in time for it to tussle his blond tuft, which lay delicately over his forehead now after that energizing run. The temperature here is warm, unlike the cold and dreary climate the rest of the biome offers. 

     He’s not sure where Dewey ran off too, but he knows his ocelot will be okay. He’s got a keen sense of taste and smell and can catch Lukas’ scent with ease. It won’t be difficult for him to find his way back to the author. 

     Taking careful steps, the only thing keeping him from the river's edge now is a small slope of rocks and dirt. His boots scuff the soil as he adjusts his footing, easing himself down slowly but safely until he takes his first steps onto the rocky shore. Our adventurer grasps the strap of his satchel and peels it up and off of him, laying it down on a large, flat stone nearby. 

     Rocks shuffle and clack together under his footing until Lukas comes to a full stop just a few inches away from the water. Looking out over the water, he can see dragonflies fluttering over the moving river, occasionally landing on the tall reeds sticking out of the rocky riverbed. The sound of quacking makes his own ears perk and he turns in the direction of a duck wading just a few feet away from the shore, and with her follows a line of four fuzzy yellow ducklings.

     Lukas’ breath is shortly taken by the tranquility of it all. Despite the darkness that overshadows the massive coniferous woodland, where there’s sunlight, there is life living amongst it. The human looks up, gazing up past the dark treetops, watching the same normal clouds drift in their own lazy river overhead. 

     Turning his head down, he notices his reflection in the crystal clear water. So he bends down, crouching and looking in past the swaying ripples, noticing the colorful, yet natural rocky riverbed underneath. 

     Lukas sighs, taking another deep breath. He raises his head and closes his eyes, focusing on listening to the sounds that surround him. He can hear the beat of the dragonflies' wings, the quack of the nearby duck family, as well as the chatter of birds up in the tall pines looming above. He smiles, basking in the serenity, feeling like new… 

     After a few moments of silence, his eyes flutter open and the author looks back down into the water. His attention to his own reflection instantly drifts over to a strange glow residing in the water to his left. Lukas’ brows knit and he leans in, focusing on the glow and then.. He realizes the distinct shape that flows over the water's surface with them. 

     Lukas gasps, throwing his hands down into the rocks and turning his body to look up at the massive presence he somehow failed to notice. “A-Admin?” Lukas stutters out, his voice small with surprise. The deity stands directly beside him, a foot back and to his left. The sun glows over his impressive build, shedding light upon an entity who still shrouds in his own eerie shadow. The man, despite the warm light surrounding him, his complexion stays dark, his face overshadowed and his eyes baggy with unspoken exhaustion. 

     The little blond human scrambles to stand up, stuttering as he does. “G-geez.. Persistent with the element of surprise as ever.” Lukas brushes off any dirt on his exposed knees, then stands fully, looking up from the worn boots, all the way up past that warm flannel and leather chest armor, then landing on the god’s… blank expression. 

     Lukas grasps his arm, looking down and away once that awkward feeling begins nagging him almost immediately. “H-hi..” He says with hesitation, weary of his own word choice when it comes to the stoic, yet silent presence. The dark blue man breathes in, then huffs in response before turning away and walking towards the river.

     Lukas’ sparkling eyes widened, his jaw fallen slack, utterly speechless with the Admin actually returning his greeting, albeit in his own mute way. He watches the towering man walk away, listening to the rocks on the shore crunch under a significantly much heavier weight as compared to what Lukas was capable of creating earlier. The human is rooted to his spot for a few silent seconds before he too is strung along by the string of curiosity pulling him closer to the gloomy entity. Nervous hands fumble together just below his chest pockets, uncertainty making him anxious as he defies his own promise and.. brings himself closer to the deity.

     Lukas approaches shyly, coming to stand a couple feet away from the deity, right next to the gentle river current. He takes his chances, glancing up at him. From his short stature, and from this angle, he gets a good view of that gnarly scar that splits the right side of the Admin's cheek. Its delicate turquoise color looks.. strangely nice against the dark blue skin.. despite it being what it is. The Admin doesn't look at him. He only stands and stares out over the moving water. 

     “U-uhm.. Thank you, Admin. For the basalt and petrified wood. I'm quite the rock enthusiast,” the blond utters a small chuckle, “Lame, I know. Heard it a million times, but I really appreciate it.” Lukas raises a hand and scratches nervously at the back of his neck, feeling that.. weird feeling again. 

      Something isn't right… Lukas catches on quickly, then dismisses it immediately the moment he feels the prickle of goosebumps rising over his pale skin. He perks up and looks over, finding the god apparently still watching the flowing river in front of them both. Lukas too looks out, and within passing seconds, he hears the Admin draw in a big breath of the clean, crisp air, then sigh it back out. 

     Lukas’ cheeks warm, and he can feel a rush of relief and excitement mix together inside him. He's actually standing here with me.. And doesn't look, or seem grumpy at all. 

     This motivates Lukas greatly. The blond suddenly decides to kneel back down, settling upon his knees just a few inches from the water licking at the pebbles. “You know, rivers are the perfect place to go rockhounding,” he says as he dips his hands into the running water, inciting a chill to run through his body at the stream's cold temperature. “ Brrr .. Cold..” He shifts his hands within the pebbles under the rippling current, continuing as he does. “Pieces of rocks get chipped away and become rounded with time. Abrasions like that can cause pebbles tiny like this-,” he plucks one from the water, then holds it up to the deity, “-to erode, and it's likely this tiny pebble could have started out as big as this rock here.” Lukas leans over and grasps a rock at least three times the size of the pebble from the shoreline, holding both out for the Admin to look at. “Or maybe even bigger! Pretty cool, huh?”

     Lukas is met with that familiar silence, as expected, although he keeps a close eye on the Admin's expression, searching for any sort of disturbance. Thankfully, that blank stare rests easily on him. Lukas can't help but wonder…

     “Would you like to see?” He asks, risking his own cheerful mood by staying hopeful. A pause… Then— Lukas tenses as the deity shifts, hearing a grunt emit from him as he settles his hefty weight down onto the pebbled shore beside him, keeping a comfortable distance. Lukas is breathless with elation at the gesture. “O-okay..” A small smile of disbelief as he looks down at the rocks in his hands. He swallows the block in his throat and shuffles a little in his spot, getting comfortable. 

     “A couple years ago, when I was in the beginning of my travels, I visited this small village out in a grasslands biome. It was surrounded by tall hills, and the villagers built their village tucked nice and right in the middle of the valley. Lots of little streams ran through it, and while I was studying Villagerese, one of the sessions I had with my mentor was learning to make rock and gem bracelets.” Lukas turns his attention back down to the water, dipping his hands into its current. “He brought me to one of the streams, and he had me choose a bunch of different pebbles I liked from the riverbed. Then he took me back to the village stonecutter and they were able to turn the rocks into beads.” 

     Lukas plucks a pebble from the water, then turns to the Admin, showing off the little white stone. “This is diorite. Super common, but still really pretty with its white and gray speckles.” Lukas keeps the pebble in his palm while he sifts for more, then adds a couple more to the mix. “Here's granite, andesite, and calcite. Most people call these kinds of rocks trash-rocks, but I think they're all unique in their own ways.” 

     He watches the Admin closely. The glowing gaze lingers for a few moments on the author's hand before he turns his attention away to the water in front of him. Lukas watches a pebble pluck straight from the water, floating in the air– immediately striking a nerve. 

     “Whoa, whoa, hand on a second.” Lukas gestures for him to stop, causing the pebble to plop back into the water and the Admin to snap his eyes back at him. Lukas quickly corrects his tone. “Sorry.. It's just that it's more special if you experience it hands on . Your powers are amazing and all, but part of the beauty in rockhounding is feeling each and every rock individually, searching for your favorites, rather than just pulling whatever you decide out of the water.” 

     The Admin’s gaze doesn't strengthen with annoyance or frustration from Lukas’ interruption, instead his tired eyes turn away from the little human, taking a moment of consideration before dipping his gloved hands into the water, just as Lukas encouraged. 

     The blond beams with joy as he watches the silent deity sift through the current just as he did. I can't believe this is happening.. He thinks, unable to shove down the wobbly smile he makes watching this.. big, strong god do as he suggested. If he wasn't beet red already, he almost certainly is now that his stomach did a strange flop. Lukas feels.. wonderful with this development. He doesn't remember the last time he's ever felt this ecstatic. 

     He tears his eyes away to avoid staring, focusing himself on his own collecting. The rocks in the water here are beautiful, no matter how common they may be. Amongst the rocks he already named, he found ordinary stone, tuff, and even some small specs of iron shimmering within the riverbed. When he looks back at the Admin after a couple of quiet minutes, he notices a nice collection of wet pebbles in his own massive palm. The novelist sits back, digging into one– then two, and three of his adventure gear pockets, searching until he finds what he’s looking for.

     “Here. Check this out.” He pulls out the bracelet, showing it off to the deity who now glances up from his own search. “This is the bracelet I was talking about. Find enough of the rocks you like, and I can bring it back to BeaconTown’s stonecutter to get them tumbled and cut into beads.” Lukas smiles, hoping the Admin would accept his offer. 

     He watches the Admin’s eyes flick from the pebbles in his own hand, over to Lukas’, then up to the human’s eyes. Both their gazes lock together while the Admin seemingly thinks of his answer. In one slow movement, the deity outstretches his arm and opens his hand to Lukas, flicking his gaze to the rocks in the ecologist’s hand, then back to his own palm, then at Lukas, waiting expectantly. 

     “Oh.. you want mine?” Lukas scoots a little closer. "Here," he then leans in with his hand and pours what he has into the Admin’s waiting palm. The pebbles all clack together once they meet the gloved palm of the Admin. Lukas feels choked up at the visual, unable to take his eyes off of how close their hands are together. Their shared difference in size is something Lukas finds very captivating. His own pale hand is so small compared to this god’s mighty fist.

     Lukas sits back once the pebbles are delivered, and watches with great attentiveness as the deity closes his hands together into a ball and squeezes. The Admin makes a scrunched up face, his dark eyebrows furrowing, and his eyes flash bright before returning back to normal. The sound of stones cracking and crushing together comes from within the balled up hands, then when all is done, the Admin draws in a deep breath and sighs, uncovering his hands and revealing…

     Lukas throws his hands down onto the rocky shore, getting on all fours to get a closer look, his eyes glimmering with newfound amazement, utterly enthralled by the Admins power. The Admin had somehow crushed and smoothed out every single one of the pebbles within seconds, making them gloss over in a way that is incomparable to any of the rocks Lukas owns in his collection. The stones have a sparkly gloss that, only up close, is one able to really see with the naked eye. That, and they’ve all acquired tiny holes somehow.

     “That’s so cool!” Lukas blurts out without really thinking, then tenses, quickly sitting back and correcting himself. “I-I mean that’s.. Wow. Just wow. I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life! How’d you do it?” Lukas prompts without much of a thought, but to his further shock, the Admin responds with a shrug and looks away. An entirely new gesture for Lukas to obsess over later. “T-that’s okay, all I need you to know is that it’s amazing.” He smiles sheepishly, then reaches into another pocket and draws out long, thin pieces of woven string. “Here, let me show you how to put it all together.” 

     The Admin is surprisingly receptive with everything Lukas shows him. After the ecologist proposed to show the deity how to make the bracelets, Lukas realized that all of their chosen rocks had been mistakenly mixed together when the Admin took them all into his palms. This does not bother Lukas. In fact, he is extremely pleased with this outcome, because having the rocks that the Admin chose mix in with his own on the string that he’s currently working on makes this bracelet more special than it would have ever been if it were the other way around. 

     The Admin follows Lukas’ lead, tying a knot at the base of the woven string, then adding the pebbles one by one to its cord. They gather more rocks as time goes on, which Lukas shyly requests Admin to work his magic with. To Lukas’ relief, there is not an ounce of grumpiness coming from the deity. That, and now they only sit about three feet apart, something of which Lukas cannot stop thinking about considering the last time he got this close to the shadowy man, the Admin stamped his foot into the earth and growled angrily at him. 

      So what changed? Lukas wonders, glancing at the deity who sits quietly beside him, working away on his own string of rocks. Maybe it's the treats? He did seem to like those cookies I brought for him..

     By the time they are finished, Lukas ties his string around his wrist and, “Ta-da-! See? Pretty, isn’t it?” Lukas asks as he lifts his gaze up to the Admin, noticing how much longer the string of rocks is that the deity now holds up in front of his own face. His shadowy expression is unreadable, yet no longer blank as he stares at the beads. The Admin’s illuminated gaze feels less imposing, less threatening now with this short amount of time they’ve spent together.

     “All finished?” Lukas asks, and the Admin responds by holding the dangling string closer to Lukas. “Okay, sweet. It looks wonderful, nicely done, Admin. Mind if I..?” The writer reaches forward and takes the string of rocks into his grip, looking over the craftsmanship. “Hmm.. Might be a bit big. Mind if I try fitting it?” Lukas takes both ends of the strings between his index fingers and thumbs, scooting a bit closer to the deity. 

     Lukas tries not to look up at him, focusing on the gloves leather cuff that hides the man’s wrist. “Hmm..” The human hums thoughtfully, then looks up to the Admin curiously. “I don’t think I can tie it around your glove.. Would it be okay to take it off?” The hesitation that follows suit is to be expected. There’s a few moments of silence that pass where the only sound between them is the running water beside them both, as well as the distant chatter of birds up in the trees. Lukas is about to backtrack and never mind the idea, that is until he watches those big arms move, the sound of heavy clothing shifting, and a large hand grasping the cuff of his right glove, then slowly drawing it off his hand. 

     Lukas’ breath snags in his throat, choked by a block that developed at the immediate sight of the deity’s hand. Dark blue, just as the rest of him, but the amount of scars that litter his skin make Lukas’ heart lurch and his stomach twist with deep remorse. He has never seen someone so… broken and tattered. Dark freckles like the ones on the deity’s cheeks can be seen speckled here and there, but turquoise scars take up the most of his hand. Lukas frowns deeply, looking up at the Admin with empathetic softness in his gaze. Poor thing…

     The Admin doesn’t look at him, instead keeping his head turned and his glowing eyes fixated on something else in a different direction. Lukas forces himself to shake off his own emotions, quickly making a move to try and fit the bracelet on. Unfortunately, the string of rocks is much longer than he’d realized, and it's a bit too big to fit onto the Admin’s wrist. “Ah.. It’s a bit long.” Lukas says, gaining the Admin’s attention, making him turn his head back down to the human working the string around his blue wrist. “That’s okay though, nothing a couple adjustments won’t fix.”

     The deity reaches with his still-gloved hand, asking for the string, which Lukas is happy to return to him. To Lukas’ surprise, the Admin doesn’t make any adjustments with it, instead opening up one of his own leather utility pockets and sticking the string of rocks inside it. The Admin then moves, grunting as he comes to a stand. Lukas quickly stands too, placing his hand onto the rocks beneath him to help lift himself up and off his knees, which, ouch.. Kind of ache after resting on the rocky shore for so long. 

     “Well, that's alright. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. This has been a lot of fun! I never really get to sit down and have someone to show stuff like this to.” The blond runs his hand up the back of his head, rubbing it a bit while he looks around, feeling suddenly awkward. Lukas looks up to the deity now, finding his tired gaze focused on him. “I gotta go find Dewey. It’s getting a bit late and I was hoping to head back soon, but… uhh…” Lukas’ cheeks warm at the way his voice cracks and he fumbles. “Thanks for spending time with me. This has been so fun..” 

     The Admin’s tired gaze softens on him, then, with his scarred hand, reaches into the right pocket on his utility belt, retrieving something that hides within his massive fist as he then holds it out, waiting for Lukas’ hands. Lukas’ heart rate picks up, his own teal eyes sparkling with joyful cat-like curiosity. Cupping his hands together, he offers them out to the Admin, who drops a tiny reflective shard into his palms. 

     Lukas looks down, bringing his cupped hands inward, then plucks the little shard with his fingers and holds it up in front of the river, watching with adoration as the sun reflects against its many purple crystalline sides. “An amethyst shard..” Lukas breathes in disbelief. The shard is gorgeous, and quite unlike any he’s ever seen during his travels. This one is completely clear of dust and dirt. Each side is just as translucent as the other. Lukas grasps the amethyst shard in his palm, holding it in his fist close to his chest. “ Thank you..” 

     The Admin merely offers him a short nod in return before he turns and fades into black shadow, then disappears in the blink of an eye entirely, leaving Lukas to stand alone with his gift, as well as the fluttery feelings he experiences.

     Back at the BeacInn, Lukas has changed out of his adventure gear, and into some black sleep pants and a cozy woven light blue sweater he typically wears on cold nights like this. The clock on the wall reads 9 p.m. He’s been attempting to sleep for quite some time, but the amethyst shard he holds up above his head has kept his mind captivated and restless, too busy thinking of the day to sleep. He turns it over, watching the way the moonlight from the nearby window reflects against its crystal surface. It’s beautiful, he thinks again. 

     He drops his arm, keeping the gem held with his enclosed fist and stares up at the ceiling. This is going to be a long night…

     A long night indeed… 

     After about thirty minutes of debating, Lukas exits the door to his room quietly, making his way to the stairwell and descending each step carefully. The BeacInn is usually quiet, with not many guests staying, but it's even more quiet in the dead of night. Lukas exits the front door, and once out on the front steps of the inn, he tucks his jacket in on himself as a chill from the cold night air makes him shiver. He takes in the peace and quiet of the completely empty streets. The street lamps have come on, preventing any monsters from spawning, thus encouraging our restless author to take his steps out into the street. 

     A late night walk might just be exactly what he needs to calm his mind enough to allow him to finally rest once he returns to his room. Dewey stayed back in the room, finishing up his late night snack when Lukas left. Now all the human can do is hope the ocelot is sleeping peacefully, and with a nice full belly. He had quite the adventure while Lukas was at the river with the Admin. When he found Dewey again, his ocelot had many burs sticking to his ruffled pelt. 

     He stuffs his cold hands into his pockets as he walks, thinking back to that strangeness his body kept experiencing while he was spending time with the Admin. It’s a very peculiar feeling, something he’s never felt before, and the weirdness of it all is beginning to make him feel so much more awkward and clumsy around the mute deity. Surely it must have something to do with the tension he feels around the Admin. Wanting nothing but positive feedback from the dark man of shadows. 

     Lukas thinks of him… Thinks of the tiredness in his eyes. His scars… He wonders what the rest of his—

      Step step step step–

     Lukas stops, hearing the sound of steps running up from behind him, he quickly turns. Only to be grabbed by the collar of his sweater and shoved up against the brick wall of a nearby building. The air escapes his lungs on impact and his fingers claw at the strong grip keeping him rooted against the bricks. His vision shakes and he coughs, blinking until his vision focuses and he sees none other than that damned Aiden on the other end of the arm keeping him pinned. Behind him are those two other hunter’s who he followed up into the Tower.

     “Sup, Losekas.” Maya says with a taunting smirk.

     “Haha, nice one,” the tallest of the three, Gill, chuckles.

     Lukas’ eyes have widened like a terrified, cornered ocelot. “Wh-what are you–?”

     “I knew it -” the green-eyed brunette spats, curling his lip in anger. “You have been going to the Admin’s territory.” Aiden growls, tightening his leather-gloved grip on the sweater and pressing inward on the author’s collarbone. 

     Lukas grits his teeth as a flourish of pain spreads where the hunter’s bony knuckles press inward on his flesh. “What on earth are you talking about?” He strains. 

     “Don’t play stupid with me!” Aiden gives him a frustrated shake, causing the blond to scrunch his face up. “All those traps out there have been destroyed! Not a single animal has been caught in them. We need those traps to keep the Admin distracted, and I’m not going to let some stupid ass nerd like you keep destroying them.” 

     “W-why are you assuming it’s me? I-I followed Petra’s wishes– I haven’t–” 

     “Shut up!” His aggressor snarls. “You listen here, Lukas.” Aiden’s eyes narrow, piercing Lukas with a sharp, furious glare. “Everything was going perfectly until you showed up. Those traps haven’t been tampered with in years! I didn’t make it this far in the ranks just to have my plans foiled by some sniveling author who doesn’t know how to keep his big nose out of other people's business.” Aiden releases Lukas, causing the taller male to fall back onto his feet with a gasp. But Aiden doesn’t stop there. 

     Suddenly, a sharp blade is being pointed up, its deadly tip staring Lukas straight in the eyes. “You listen to me, Lukas. If I so much as see you out there, I’ll do away with you myself. You know why?” The blond opens his lips to respond but Aiden shakes his head, a dark, ill-fated laugh falling out of him. “Because I know what you are. You’re a spy. The Admin’s little rat doing the dirty work for him since he’s too much of a bitch to come out of those damned trees and face us himself.”

     “Hah– yeah, and once he does, we have something that’ll re-” 

     Aiden drops the knife and turns, lashing out on Gill. “Shut the fuck up! What are you? Stupid?”

     “S-sorry! Sorry. I just–” 

     “Just what? Spell out every plan of ours to the spy who’s here to hear just that?” Maya puts her hands on her hips, joining Aiden by his side. Aiden sneers at the tallest hunter, shaking his head and sticking his knife back into a holster at his hip. 

     “Whatever. We’ll talk about this later. For now we–” Aiden turns and stops, realizing now that the blond human who had been held up against the wall has since disappeared. Aiden’s fists clench and his lip curls in a tremendous growl. “Dammit!”

     Lukas doesn’t stop running. The author booked it down the alleyway nearby the moment Aiden and Maya focused their attention on roasting Gill. His heart pistons out of control in his chest, his hand covering his mouth, utterly wracked with disbelief that he’d just been threatened at knife point. He runs through the alleyway until he reaches the massive wall that keeps BeaconTown protected, keeping it up until he finally makes it back to the BeacInn. He comes to a skirting halt, shaking horribly, absolutely terrified at what just happened.

      No… No, I can't go back to the BeacInn yet. I need… Lukas’ guiding heart tilts his head up and over into the direction of the blasted out wall.  Whether it be his anxiety, or his gut talking, he has a feeling, with this new development, that this wall will be getting patched very, very soon. Lukas doesn’t waste another second. 

     He knows who he needs.

[marshmallowprotection]

Been having a really shit time lately

Is it possible to request some post-GE Suit Saeran headcanons? (I like to explore suit and ray being separate alters from saeray sometimes because I miss them as individuals so much and want to see them grow as such)

Thank you!

Absolutely! I don't typically write them that way but I enjoy seeing the different takes on them! Just so you guys know, and I feel the need to point this out, the game never does officially confirms Saeran's mental health in terms of what he may have. We don't know if he has DID, OSDD, Bipolar, etc. So, there's no wrong way to interpret him as long as you're working to make sure whatever you're writing is done so respectfully.

Make sure to listen to people with the conditions you're writing with if you do not experience them personally, because representation is important and you do not want to demonize personality disorders or dissociative disorders. Media does that enough to people and that's harmful as it is.

We can all learn a thing or two by listening to others. I wouldn't want anyone to get things misconstrued because of the way I personally headcanon and write the characters.

When I'm writing Saeran, I write with DID in mind. I also write GE Saeran as a fusion of Ray and Suit Saeran after the events of Day 10. A lot of people get sad that I write it that way, because they feel as though those two disappear and no longer exist, within reality, they come together to create GE Saeran, or Saeray, as I lovingly call him.

Suit Saeran and Ray exist within him, because they are him, if that makes sense. Their experiences, memories, feelings, actions, all of that live on in GE Saeran. He knows them well because they were him.

Now, let me clear this up as well, the "fusion" of alters does not mean "cured". It doesn't magically make you "cured" all of a sudden. I better not see anybody spreading that kind of misinformation because that is not the case. DID will always be a part of someone with DID, it does not matter if alters have fused or not. Integration and fusion may be a goal for some systems, but it isn't for others.

It's a case by case basis.

Systems together decide what works for them, and nobody better tell them how to decide what's best for them.

Alright, now that we've cleared that up!

GE Suit Saeran is... struggling, for the lack of a better word. He told you his intention that night.

That night when he apologized for everything he ever did to you and how he wants to take accountability for it even if it takes him forever. He told himself that he would leave as best he could because it's not as if he has control over when he is fronting or not.

He wanted to minimize his contact with you as much as possible, to show you that he wants to work on himself as a person, and to heal the wounds that have been inflicted on him so that he can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Even if you accept his apology, he doesn't accept it for himself. He can't forgive himself.

That's one of the reasons why the after ending has a huge emphasis on GE Saeran working to forgive the people who hurt him. He just... perpetuated everything that was done to him by those people on to you. He learns how to forgive them so that he can forgive himself. It helps him find peace, too. To let go of the anger and move forward in life. He'll forgive but he'll never forget or look back.

In an instance where Suit Saeran and Ray exist as themselves, he would be minimizing himself as much as possible in the beginning if he could help it. After all, he told you that he knew Ray could take better care of you than he could. Ray has his own demons to work on, as well, because you also need to talk to him about accountability and how he feels about moving forward to accept what he did.

But, the difference between him and Ray is that Ray doesn't want to hurt people… and Saeran never had a qualm with hurting someone if it protected Ray or you, later on. Ray’s heart is truly gentle, and even if he’s done wrong as well, he won't hurt you... not like Saeran is very acutely afraid of doing. He knows he doesn't want to hurt you, but he also knows that he's not in a good headspace. He won't hurt you with the intention of doing so.

But, accidentally?

He could hurt you that way.

And as he is right now, he can't stomach the thought of hurting you more than he already did. Forgiven or not by you, once again, he can't forgive himself until he confronts his demons... and his way of doing that wouldn't look as close to GE Saeran's way. It'd be messier, mixed with his exhaustion, anger, and fear. He'll get there, I know he will, but it's a long road.

What would his interactions look like with you? Well, he would make a point to step away from you in the beginning and you would know why he's doing that. Every time he's around, he makes a point of giving you space, of letting you decide what you're comfortable with and what you aren't. Sometimes, you don't mind him sticking around, in fact, many of you may say that you don't mind him around at all, but it doesn't change the fact that he wants your express consent at all times to know it's okay to be there.

He is aware of everything he's done, and he's not going to corner you. He's afraid of doing that, actually.

That makes most of his interactions with you not as direct as they might have been in the past. There's a weariness about him that doesn't go away. Even when you try to talk to him, he tries to pull away, because, in his heart, he's going to feel like you're better off without him for quite a while. You have a gentle heart and so many people can abuse that.

He doesn't want to be someone like that, he doesn't want to become someone like the people who hurt him, and he can't imagine the thought of you making yourself vulnerable to him again on the off chance he has a bad day. His awareness of what he's done and what he needs to hold himself accountable for can sometimes go over the edge.

He may end up beating himself up more than anyone else would, and I imagine that sounds familiar, but what can you do? This is a difficult road... and even if he'd hate the idea of being like Jihyun Kim, there is just no denying this aspect they share. The only difference is Saeran wanting to do better and not wallow in self-misery... but it'll take him a while to figure out how to make the best choices for himself. At the very least, he wants to try.

Outside of the guilt in pain he's carrying, what good can you expect once he's found a place of peace? What can you expect after he's confronted his demons and he feels comfortable in his relationship with you? A partner who values spending time together, that’s for sure.

Saeran is happy you love him, and he doesn’t take it for granted. As hard as it is to talk about it, his favorite thing to do with you is to make meals. Far more than Ray, he likes making sure you’ve eaten well, and it’s not just to make up for what he did. He likes seeing you enjoy a meal. He likes being able to being teased by you, to feel your hand on his face as you nudge a spoon against his lips. He likes that you can do this together and it doesn't sting... it stings less and less the more you work together to make better memories.

(It was awful, horrible, and wrong. But, he later told you that not only was it meant to hurt you, it was meant to protect you, too. He knew they drugged the food with elixir and his not letting them feed you in that moment was because of his hurt and fear. It made no sense to him at the time but later on, it clicked.)

Parallel play. You don't have to be doing the same thing to enjoy time with him, and he just likes being in the same space as you. Sometimes, his health should have the two of you doing something separately so he doesn't feel as though there are odds stacked against him. He's still learning how to exist as himself, and as much as he wants to learn more about his existence by your side, he needs time to make sense of what he likes and what he doesn't like.

He wants the space to make mistakes and to learn from them by himself, but he knows if he needs help, you'll be there to help.

I will say if you want something light-hearted, the goofiest thing about him is that despite how it may seem on the surface, he's quite gullible, and you can trick him into doing quite a few things.

Of course, you should only use this for good, like getting him to try something new for dinner. In the end, he likes it when you do that, because something is empowering about knowing that you can push his buttons and stand your ground even in Normal situations. It's not that he wants you to push him around, it's just that he wants to know you can stand as his equal.

[strox-the-entertainer]

AN OPEN LETTER TO DREAMERS

Dear dreamer,

It’s been a while since I heard from you, the hype and graceful talks about your life goals. It’s starting to seem like you’re giving up, are you?

Look, I know it’s hard to do what you love especially when there’s pressure and walls stacked against you. I understand all your efforts and improvements aren’t adding up due to the constant rejections, and the validations you aren’t getting. Just a minute of your time, let’s see to this.

I think I’d have to give you accolades. It hasn’t been easy for you, flying under the radar. 

To everyone, you’re their last card – hope – so whatever step you take, it is no longer the one you love. It is the one that feels safe, less risky and gives them peace of mind and (of course) big dreams. Really big ones. Keeps everyone anticipating…. Except you, though, the dream you once had, I see you giving up on it to follow the safer route others have always wanted you to take.

Chill. Reflect. Let it flow. Recharge.

Do you remember those folks you’ve boasted to? The folks who doubted and mocked your dreams the same way they did to theirs? You don’t want them to have the win over your life, do you?

Like the kids in your hometown, your hood, looking up to you so they could use you as a mirror to write their own story, I’ve replaced you with someone else. Not my fault, I once saw you holding on to a life nobody has ever visualised but now, I can see your grip losing it. 

You begin to live life, confused, depressed and purposeless (because you’ve traded the one valuable thing). Trying so hard to bury your talents and passions, and forgo your dreams so you don’t look heartless, irresponsible and rebellious to the people who thought they’ve helped you paint the perfect picture of your life.

Maybe the only validation you need is yourself and you can still go after those dreams. Certainly not when everyone expects you to make up for their loss and still yield their investments on you – that’s like 3x of what you ever thought of! — then those who doubted and rejected you start to thank their stars that they did what they did.

Question.

Even if you dump these dreams and chase the safer ones they have for you, how certain is it that you’re not getting blamed if at the end, it doesn’t work out like they thought it would?

Let’s come to a confluence. 

Will you rather kill the passion or reignite it?

Remember, killing it means everyone placing unrealistic expectations on you is happy. But! Those who really invested in you, whispered to you, “Stay strong,” and have given their blood plus reputation and whole existence to your dreams, are probably somewhere up, looking at you with tearful eyes; heartbroken and regretting they ever did for you what they did and stood for you how they…..

Dreamer, I need answers.

Well, you too will prolly become teary in your older years, regretting that your weak self couldn’t handle the storm and gave up too easily. 

See, in the beginning of a thousand miles, an inch was made. You haven’t made that. Yeah, I know the problems and pressure: family, parents, society…. 

For Christ's sake, just stop! Think.

At the end of the day, whatever happens is always your cross to bear. I can see you’ve been given a chance to ace it, will you?

Well, I’ll be leaving you with my words (treasure) and I hope your reply is you answering my question in the former paragraph (Yeah, I did or no, I didn’t).

Your bud forever,

Feranmi Okungbowa (Strox).

[flowersinurdustbin]

Have you ever confessed your love to someone? I did. I begged them to love me, but there is no forcing love. I never received a response. My letter went like this.

Hey You,

It’s hard knowing that someone like you exists. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you exist. Yet you’re out there in the world, and I can’t seem to forget about you. But like Dr. Suess said, don’t be sad it’s over, be happy it happened, right?

I’m writing this letter because I’m not sure when we will meet again, and I don’t think I’m capable of holding onto my truth in silence any longer. I love you, and I miss you. I love you like fire loves water. I miss you like I miss home. It is a feeling I can’t put words to, but I know I am still in love with you.

There’s no expectation for you to reply, but I need you to know that I feel this way. I don’t love you rationally, meaning I’m not about to argue that the problems we used to have would magically go away. And I’m not hurting from the breakup. This isn’t coming from a place of lust. What continues to hurt is my own denial of these feelings.

When I begged you to stay all those months ago, I didn’t know what learning to be alone would be like. I was so scared of the unknown. I was scared to lose you, and therefore to lose myself. In learning how to be alone, I had to come to terms with the depth of my love for you. I lost myself, and I found myself again. And who I am now is still someone who loves you.

I wonder how my feelings persist, considering the amount of time it’s been, but I do not wonder why the feelings persist. I love you because I can see the future in you. I don’t mean a future together, necessarily -- I mean the future of the world. Your kindness, your grace, your laugh, your nature, are one-of-a-kind. Your existence is proof that the world can be a good place.

Truthfully, I am probably insane for still loving you. But this year, I learned that being authentic and honest is worth any price, even that of rejection. I learned how to hold onto love and optimism despite fear and pain.

When I think about you, it is in two senses. First, in the ‘someday, maybe’ sense. I hold onto a hope that if we were ever to cross paths again, and it was truly right, we could have a healthy love. Mainly, I don’t worry about it ‘working out’, though. Realistic or unrealistic, I want to be more than friends. That’s the second sense; I do want to be with you.

You’re still in my head and my heart. From what I can tell, you don’t feel the same. However you truly feel, I hope you can be authentic and honest with me.

You know I think the world of you. I love you unconditionally, and unconditional love is scary, but it is also really special. I may not express a traditional kind of love, but I’m not a normal person. Independent, yet emotional. Strong, yet sensitive. Intelligent, yet aloof. I’m a screwed-up kid, but my heart could stretch the lengths of the Earth.

I am a lover, not a fighter. Some nights, the memories of arguments past cross my mind. I have to apologise for the pain I caused you. I am sorry. I never wanted to fight with you. I wanted to love you and feel loved in return.

Everyone deserves to feel emotionally understood in a relationship. In the past, I felt misunderstood by you, and I misunderstood you, too. But I’m no longer looking for ‘happiness’ as feelings of elation in a hopeless romance. I’m searching for happiness as contentment, peace, fulfilment, understanding in a soft, stable, and supportive romance.

Human connection is one of the only certain meanings of life. I feel a real connection with you. If I didn’t tell you, I wouldn't forgive myself.

You might be interested in somebody else. You might be interested in nobody, just taking care of yourself. You might tell me it’s one-sided, or be completely caught off-guard. You often say that you don't feel much emotion, but clearly, I feel emotions for you. Whatever the reality, don’t let this be cause to worry. I only want you to know the truth.

No matter how you receive this, I hope you think of me as someone who loves you, depth over distance. Life is short, and the days are long. I can't waste time waiting anymore. If you love someone, tell them, right?

Yours,

t

[taysdorothea13]

tay hearing wrenny sing for the first time

i cannot wait to write this scene! i’ve been thinking about it for days because i need a full scene and play-by-play of how it goes down, but let me give you my cliff notes thoughts because these chapter updates are taking longer than i wanted them too (thank you life and my inability to find even a single hour of uninterrupted peace)

wrenny’s at the piano playing never grow up. at the time, taylor didn’t even know wren could play the piano at all, so that’s what initially pulls her to go see what her kids up to. it’s definitely not perfect, the tempo is rushed at certain points and not all the right keys are being played, but it sounds good enough for taylor to know what she’s attempting to play. when wren notices taylor watching her, she gets shy, there’s a blush that forms on her cheeks, and it seems like she forgets where she is in the song because her fingers keep playing the same note over and over again. taylor can only laugh softly at the sight of wren like a deer in headlines, but she sits beside her on the bench, and she plays on the opposite end, and can i just say that it’s the prettiest version of never grow up that exists. taylor starts singing first. they restart the song and wren is watching taylor play with intent, and it’s very clear that her walls are up, but it’s also giving taylor insight as to how wren even knows how to play at all. she’d always thought wren was just blindly watching her, fascinated with the process of creating music as a whole more than actually creating it from scratch piece by piece, but she was so wrong. she’d never noticed how intensely wren watches her fingers, and how her little eyes flicker on the keys as she commits to memory where her own fingers are supposed to go. selfishly, this is taylor’s favorite moment of motherhood; getting to watch her kid fall in love with music the same way she did when she was only just learning how to play guitar. once they reach the second verse, every wall is down, and for the very first time ever, wrenny’s just letting herself sit with taylor and the music, and then her little mouth starts moving and it takes a couple seconds for taylor to realize she’s singing too, and she has the most beautiful voice. eventually taylor stops singing all together, but she nods encouragingly for wren to keep going, and she wants to cry at how beautifully toned and controlled her kids voice is, but it had that element of childlike pitch to it that makes it just slightly imperfect. after that, wrenny never stops singing. she’ll dance on the island while taylor makes cookies, singing at the top of her lungs like any other normal kid, but she focuses on her vocals and healthy ways to channel the sound, and taylor doesn’t think wren even realizes she’s copying her every move and technique, down to the way she breathes in between lines of the chorus and arches her back whenever there’s a relatively high note to match. taylor desperately hopes nobody ever steals this passion from her baby, because even if wren never wants to grow up to be a singer, she has the most beautiful voice and taylor knows that with time they’ll create the best things together