#and i love making art so that's never happening

[drchucktingle]

non-dysphoric soul

i am not a religious buckaroo and dont think i ever will be. this universe is so wonderful and my life so blessed that idea of needing something more does not make any sense to me. what we KNOW about existence already takes my breath away, i do not need the unknown. i am so happy and thankful as is

HOWEVER i am also curious and while i do not NEED the grand unknown i find it exciting and romantic sometimes. i FEEL it in art, and i am not arrogant enough to think 'i know everything'. i do not. so there is a door within me that is open to something spiritual for lack of a better word.

lately i feel the door opening wider and wider and while i think most folks think of my agnostic trot as a sort of SIDEKICK to atheism, to me it is really its own thing that has plenty of room for thoughts of 'well maybe there is something more? i do not know so lets bask in it and see what happens'

i think single most important part of my journey as spiritual buckaroo has been self reflection and personal understanding of my own non-dysphoric transness. which is interesting because i think some who CLAIM to be spiritual in the specific american christian sense have a large anti-trans history

and it makes me think ‘kinda wild that you can believe in a soul that is distinct from all the firing neurons and churning cells of your body, some separate trot outside of known matter and energy, and then claim that this soul ALWAYS ends up in a correspondingly gendered slot?’ couldnt wires cross?

REMINDER i am not a religious person. i am not sure if there is a soul out there that defies any sort of quantifiable trot. maybe this SELF i feel is just electrical currents of a brain trying VERY HARD to convince itself of something more. the jury is out. ITS OKAY. in fact the mystery is beautiful

over time, i feel like i get hints from the jury, one or two heads poppin out from the jury chambers to wink and say there is something more. A SOUL. whether that soul is a wonder of science of a wonder of the great beyond will probably never be answered. that is just fine with me. i do not need it

point is, my understanding of my own self and my non-dysphoric trans way can BEST (maybe ONLY) be described in terms of a soul. i have no desire to change, no dysphoria, no plans. it has never had a impact on my life and very likely never will, but feeling is true. id be lying to say otherwise.

so with all the politics around gender and who can identify as what and on and on, i find myself saying ‘well my soul is this, and my body is this, and that is fine. i love my body and i love my soul and they happen to be two different trots’. its easy to miss the SOUL part of that conversation

'A SOUL?' i suddenly think. 'WHAT THE HECK? YOU DONT BELIEVE IN SOULS'. and i have to remind myself, ‘well you dont believe in anything really, you DONT KNOW’ and while most see this proclamation of not knowing as being closed off to all things, i see it as being open to all things

and i am grateful. how lucky that this rare sensation of soul and body disconnection could happen TO ME? because it declares THERE IS A SOUL. i know to others the trans journey is hard and i dont want to diminish that. it can be pain it can be torture. but thats not my story and theres room for all

because every day that i notice MY disconnection between body and soul is a day i get to reach into the great beyond, into the vast cosmos, and feel around for a while. i still do not expect to find anything, but DANG is it fun. and DANG is it exciting to be alive in a way that proves love to myself

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

nanami kento and his certified yapper of a girlfriend, whom he loves very dearly <33

nanami has perfected the art of the “hm.” it’s his go-to response when you’re on one of your enthusiastic tangents. but don’t be fooled—there are different versions of his “hm.” there’s the supportive hm (when he agrees with you), the tired but still listening hm (when he’s too drained to fully engage but doesn’t want to ignore you), and the you’re absolutely ridiculous but I love you hm (his most common one).

he may seem like he zones out, but he retains the important things. you could talk for ten minutes straight about which nail color you should get, and he won’t remember a word. but if you offhandedly mention that you really love those matcha cookies from that one bakery, guess what’s waiting for you the next day?

he’s the only person who can actually get you to shut up—for a moment. whether it’s pulling you into a sudden kiss, placing a warm hand over your mouth, or just giving you that look, he has his ways. you’ll still continue after the interruption, though. always.

sometimes he just lets you talk because he enjoys how animated you get. you’re waving your hands, switching between different tones, going off on dramatic tangents—he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t cute. sometimes he just sits back and watches you, letting the sound of your voice fill the space around him. and you’re so absorbed in your own storytelling that you completely miss his lovesick gaze and his warm smile.

he has definitely fallen asleep to the sound of your voice. you don’t even take offense anymore. it happens often enough that you’ve just accepted your voice as a lullaby for him. sometimes, he’ll wake up to you continuing your story, completely unbothered by the fact that he passed out halfway through.

when he’s in a bad mood, you’re the only person who can make him laugh. sometimes, all it takes is a well-timed, ridiculous comment. other times, it’s just your sheer determination to get a reaction out of him. if he tries to stay grumpy, you’ll narrate his emotions out loud, complete with a fake dramatic voice: “behold! the great and brooding nanami kento, burdened by the weight of existence. will he ever smile again? will he ever—oh wait! there it is! a smirk! ladies and gentlemen, we got him.”

he gets oddly worried when you’re quiet. if you go more than twenty minutes without saying something, he immediately assumes something’s wrong. “are you okay?” “yes, why?” “you’re quiet.” “…so?” “so, it’s suspicious.” if you get quiet for too long, he’ll gently nudge you. not because he doesn’t enjoy silence, but because he knows something might be wrong. “what’s on your mind?” he’ll ask, and when you start rambling again, he knows things are back to normal.

he absolutely refuses to take you grocery shopping anymore. the last time he did, you spent fifteen minutes analyzing which brand of rice was superior, picked up random items purely because they “had cute packaging,” and got distracted by the tiny honey jars again. now, he just goes alone and comes back with everything he knows you like. (or he relents to your endless begging and tells you to not give promises you won’t be able to keep— like you sticking to his side and not prolonging the trip.)

he loves your voice, even if he pretends it exhausts him. he may act like you talk too much (which, to be fair, you do), but if you ever go away for a few days, or if he has a long, quiet work trip, he finds himself missing the constant sound of your chatter. the first thing he does when he comes back? sit down and listen to you ramble about everything he missed.

he’ll never admit it, but he secretly finds your endless talking comforting. it makes the world feel less heavy. it reminds him that, no matter how chaotic things get, you’ll always be right there, filling the silence with something only you would say.

he’s developed a high tolerance for your rapid-fire conversation shifts. most people would struggle to keep up, but nanami has learned to expect the unexpected. you could be talking about your dinner plans one second and then suddenly ask, “do you think sharks are self-aware?” without missing a beat. he doesn’t even flinch anymore—just calmly responds, “if they were, they’d probably be very concerned about their reputation.”

he has a hidden soft spot for your random facts. sure, he’ll sigh when you start a sentence with, “did you know—” but deep down, he’s actually listening. later, he’ll casually use one of your weird facts in conversation, and when you catch him, he’ll just adjust his tie like it never happened.

he’s learned to predict the exact moment you’ll start talking during movies. without fail, right when an important scene starts, you will have a thought. every time. and somehow, nanami just knows when it’s coming. he’ll pause the movie right before you open your mouth, giving you an expectant look. “go ahead.” and you’ll happily share your insight before he presses play again.

nanami secretly finds your over-explaining adorable. sometimes, you’ll start explaining something completely unnecessary—like why a certain restaurant’s menu design is superior to another’s—and he’ll just watch you, arms crossed, pretending to be unimpressed. but inside? he thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world.

he loves when you talk about your day, even if it’s just the small stuff. you could spend twenty minutes telling him about how the barista at the café made your drink slightly different than usual, and he’ll still sit there, listening, occasionally nodding and asking questions. because no matter what you’re talking about, it’s you, and that’s enough.

he will not—under any circumstances—let gojo encourage you. if gojo hypes you up for talking even more, nanami is done. he’ll literally drag you away before you and gojo can start bouncing off each other with endless nonsense.

he may sigh, roll his eyes, and pretend to be exhausted by your constant talking, but if anyone else ever told you to “be quiet,” they’d get a very cold stare from nanami. no one—no one—gets to dull your spark except for him, and even he doesn’t really mean it.

[bbadandboujee]

SOLAR RETURN CHART OBSERVATIONS ݁ᛪ༙💋

mk cus…why is nobody making solar return observations anymore? like you deadazz?? lmk if y’all want a part 2!

OBSERVATIONS:

libra rising: YES YOU WILL CHANGE YOUR ENTIRE AESTHETIC! literally i went from a fucking bum to a whole baddie! i feel like with this placement your skin gets very clear very pretty! you’ll also be interested in anything dealing with the arts, like for example drawing & music, new people will quite literally know you for being attractive/beautiful, however nobody talks about how your butt gets fat with this placement? like lowkey before i had this placement i was shaped like a door fr.

venus in the 6h: ultimate glow up!! especially with your health! going to the gym, or just intaking in foods that are healthy and nutritious! with this placement i feel like you’ll most likely attract many suitors, and also it’s definitely up to you if you wish to pursue them. could have a gym crush with this placement, also intuitively i got that going to museums can be therapeutic for you, or simply listening to music daily could also be therapeutic too. also going to therapy with this placement could be beneficial for you.

uranus in the 12h: worse year ever, you could go thru something traumatic and your mental health won’t be the same. depending on where the ruler of the 12h is can tell you what’s bound to happen or what triggers it.

uranus transit the 12h: mk so ik this is a solar return chart post lol, but i needed to include this in here, having this in the transit chart can indicate going thru something spiritual, like out of this world, for some it can indicate that you will meet God and it can change your life forever. in my personal experience i’ve been having a lot of spiritual encounters, seeing a bunch of feathers in my mirror was one of them as well as seeing tiny light blue lights around my light bulb, as i was seeing them it would come for like 10 seconds and it would disappear, i’m still going thru this transit, if you have this lmk how it went!

uranus in the 8h solar return chart: TW: death i had this placement last year and my childhood friend died, it was so unexpected and shocking honestly, i remember i would cry like every now and then thinking about her death, the ruler of the 8h was in the 5h as well, and the thing that sucked was that she was going down a dark path, and i wished i could’ve been the one to at least talk to her bc we all need at least someone to talk to yk? after her death it was just hard honestly to take it all in. but may she rest in peace, i know she’s at peace now and that’s all that matters.

mars in the 11h: i was surrounded by fake people, multiple group chats outside of a damn group chat, people didn’t even like each other in the group, everyone was negative, bitches was delusional, and just ew like wish i could erase that part of my life omg?? i couldn’t even defend myself at that time either bc it was like i was only like 16? didn’t know shit about life or even friendships i was living in the moment fr, but yeah with this placement make sure to keep that eye out for selener..if yk yk lol. surround yourself with people who not only love you for you but who care about you, because honestly fuck them bitches who dislike you!! they’re not on your level fren.

9h stellium: you could travel or get into spirituality! also if the planets are beneficial you could do extremely well academically. you may learn something new overall, you’ll likely have a positive mindset, this is specific but you could have a mentor that gives you wisdom in life and you’ll never forget what they’ve told you, their words will always stick to you like glue.

mk thats it friend!! sorry if this was short 💔💔, but i hoped you enjoyed boo!

[simonghostlovely]

✗♡ Dry humping and titty sucking ✗♡

(18+)

You knew dry humping and titty sucking were lost arts 💔 but your husband were literally there to prove you wrong, right? He might be drifting off to sleep in front of the tv and snoring lightly right now but you knew a way to wake him up.

A mischievous grin on your face as your knees landed at Simon's sides. You lifted your tank top, freeing your boobs. You held your boob, squeezing a bit. You could barely stop yourself from laughing in his face when you line up your nipple inches from his mouth but when you finally touch his chin and feel his stubble on your soft titty, you gasped. Feeling it between your thighs as you got warmer when your nipple touches his dry, pink lips.

Feeling the goosebumps that euphoric feeling gave you. You bit your lower lip trying to suppress your moan escaping out of your throat. You were humming quietly now and realised how he looked so innocent like this, worry and lines faded from his face, relaxed. He was such a sweet boy. Your sweet boy.

You thought of forcing yourself a little bit further inside and get your nipple wet and risk waking him up. Hoping he wouldn’t be mad at you. -not possible- You pushed a little bit harder and he started grumbling as he opened his eyes. First he didn’t understand where he was, what was happening or what year he was in but then he vigorously held your hips with both hands, forcing you pressed to his chest. Your nipples squishing between you and you felt your cheeks getting red slowly.

“What d’ ya think you’re doin’ mama’s?’’ he was staring at you with those big brown eyes with an intrigued look on his face.

‘’Nothin’ baby….’’ but all the blood rushing to your cheeks and ears now, you really didn’t think this through...

“If my baby wants her titties sucked, she can just ask me, yea?”

“Mhmm mhmm…” you nodded sheepishly, looking at him with big doe eyes. Your lips were drawing a line now from how embarrassed you were. Simon gave a quick peck on your mouth. Hugging your middle section and getting up from the couch.

“Now we go to bed and grant my wife’s wishes”

You were giggling while simon sprinted in the hallway to your bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, putting you on his lap. Then he removed a strand of hair from your face and tugging it behind your ear.

“You’re so beautiful.” your smile widened, now you were grinning like stupid, looking at him with starry eyes.

“and your boobs are too. Sorry for neglectin’ them. I will make it up to you.” then he directly cupped both of your boobs, engulfed one of your nipples in his warm mouth, wetting it. With both hands you wrapped his forearms delicately when you felt the pleasure shooting to your crotch. You felt yourself getting warm and melting even further like hot chocolate.

You swung your head back, swimming in pleasure. Hurling all the air out of your lungs out as he was lapping at your nipple. Flattening his tongue on it and then sucking it deliciously. You were lost in all the sensations when you find yourself grinding on his thigh which you were sure you left a wet patch on by now. He maneuvered your moves, his strong hands on your hips again. Alternating between pressing you back and forth and kneading on them like a dough.

You were at a loss of words as your brain melted to it’s liquid form by now and Simon knew it. Suction of his mouth let go of your nipple with a pop. Leaving your boob all wet and glimmering in the soft light of your bedroom. He suddenly got up and shifted on his feet, throwing you on the bed like a bullet out of a gun.

“On your back, love.”

You laid down slowly on the soft sheets, never breaking eye contact, he neared until there were inches between your lips,

“Show it to me…”

“Show me what belongs to me, now.”

In a rush you lowered your panties, his lust filled eyes and commanding voice already parting your legs without even touching you yet. And you let him see how turned on you were, your knees to your chest. With both hands he caressed your knees while he fixed his gaze on your pussy, examining. He nodded turning to you, and then that shit eating grin.

“God... you're such a slut, look at tha' ”

You were mewling and squirming under his gaze, no words coming out, just a pout. He unzipped like he had zero patience left and lined up his dick to your entrance after giving it few pumps, wetting the tip. He exhaled a sigh of relief as it first slipped inside. Testing the waters. Then he sped up his pace, jolting your whole body until you take him to the hilt.

“You hear tha’?”

The sounds your wet pussy made were downright pornographic but your squishy insides and soft walls weren’t only driving him crazy. Hearing them made you somehow even wetter.

“This is the sound of a very good slut.”

You let out a high-pitched moan at that. Seeing your mouth ajar, he didn't wanna waste the opportunity and quickly put his thumb inside it. You started sucking on it without a thought. Dancing and floating in a haze.

“Tha’s ma baby. Such a good girl fo' me. Take it.”

Then his thrusts were really coming to life as you jolted on the bed. Moaning uncontrollably. When he came inside of you, he growled at the top of his lungs. Spurting his cum into the deepest part of you. But he didn't stop, kept up the pace until you sucked him inside, milking him. After making sure that you had nothing left to give him anymore, he pulled out, watching a mix of his hot cum and your slick leaking out of your pussy. He lowered himself, giving your pussy a soft, wet kiss to show his appreciation.

His voice breathless when his lips neared to your ear.

“Olways gon take tha’ cum inside that lil pussy where it belongs, baby.”

And you did.

[stanart4clearskin]

knight!art donaldson x princess!reader

art had essentially grown up in the castle. his mother was the queen's lady-in-waiting and his father was the king's most loyal knight. in return for their valuable service, the king and queen let art take lessons with their daughter—you. the two of you studied english, art, music, and fencing together. although the start of your guys' relationship had been rocky, the two of you eventually became good friends. the two of you confided in each other when life was hard or simply when you wanted a companion. 

all throughout childhood art had a crush on you but he was smart enough to know not to act upon it. he knew that you were destined for far greater things than being in love with a common citizen such as himself. although he knew he could never be with you, that never stopped him from acting upon his feelings. he complimented you whenever he could, brought you flowers he saw when he helped his dad patrol the grounds, and would sneak into the kitchen to grab you a sweet treat late at night. you were art's first love and he liked to think that he was yours. as you got older, the two of you never talked about any feelings either of you could possibly have because you were to be engaged to a prince of a distant kingdom. art didn't want to get in the way of that. 

on the eve of your 19th birthday and wedding, you had confided in art late at night about your apprehensions for your future. your head was in his lap as art's fingers combed through your locks. you both knew it was improper for a man and woman to be alone so late at night, let alone in your chambers but neither of you really cared. 

"i'm terrified to be married." you admitted, your eyes tracing the lines of the cobblestone ceilings. "i have heard that prince zweig is loud and brash. he doesn't have much respect for women, let alone me."

art's heart clenched at your words. he hated the thought that you were to be married to someone who wasn't him and he hated the fact that your future husband wasn't even that good of a man. "i'm sure those are just rumors." he said but the words seemed unconvincing to both of you. 

"i have heard that his parents have tried multiple times to find him a wife. every time something has gone wrong." you were apprehensive about what the next day might bring. prince zweig previously had his past bride-to-be kidnapped so that they couldn't go through with the wedding. 

art could tell that you were nervous. his nails scratched against your scalp, causing you to release a hum of pleasure. "i'll be with you all day. i'll make sure nothing will happen to you."

the day of the wedding had come and the hours leading up to it had been rather uneventful. no one had attempted to kidnap you nor had anyone attempted to sabotage the officiant. your ladies-in-waiting helped you with your dress, hair, and makeup and soon enough you were walking down the aisle. you weren't sure what the feeling in the pit of your stomach was when you noticed that prince zweig wasn't at the alter. perhaps it was relief or maybe even joy at the possibility of not having to be married. 

king and queen zweig insisted that everyone wait for the prince to show up but night turned into day and there was no sign of him. as you undressed from your stuffy white gown, you couldn't help but feel giddy. a large smile graced your features when art came to escort you back to the castle. the two of you were as giggly as hyenas during the carriage ride back home. that night the two of you snuck out of the castle and took a carriage ride to the nearest town. you spent most of the night at a local bar, drinking and singing your hearts out. when you both returned to the castle at sunrise, you shared a drunken kiss that neither of you would acknowledge for years. 

as time passed, art was sent off to a knight training camp while you and your mother traveled the country looking for possible prospects. many men were interested in you–naturally–but you had very little to no interest in any of them. you would never admit it aloud but your heart was already occupied by art. you couldn’t bear to marry someone other than him but you knew you could not marry him so secretly you vowed to never marry. every suitor failed to meet the mark for you and so after nearly a year of looking, your mother gave up and the two of you returned home. throughout your traveling around the country, you hadn’t been able to keep in touch with art. you had tried but life was too busy to constantly send him letters about your day and he was too busy training each day to respond. the two of you had grown distant but you were determined to reunite with him once he returned from camp. 

the moment you saw the gates opening and a carriage pulling in, you wasted no time rushing outside to go see art. he had hardly even stepped a foot onto the ground before you launched yourself at him. immediately you noticed the changes training had done to his body. he had once been awkward and lanky but now he had grown into his height and had muscle to accompany it. he held you with ease, as if you weighed as much as a feather. 

art beamed when he saw you. he would never tell you but every night while at camp he dreamt of you. his dreams ranged from merely having conversations with you to him completely ravishing you late at night. “hello princess.” he greeted and you noticed that his voice had changed as well. it was deeper and smoother, almost like dark chocolate. 

“i’ve missed you, art.” you gush, letting your feet return back to the ground. your eyes take in the sight of his face–from his crooked smile to his bright blue eyes and the hint of brown they have. 

“that’s knight art to you.” he says and in return you lightly shove him. all throughout childhood art had teased that you would eventually have to call him by his position but it felt surreal now that it had come true. 

“in that case you may no longer call me princess as i am a queen now.” 

for a moment art’s expression faltered and the color faded from his face. “queen? your father passed?”

you nearly snorted at the look of distraughtness on the knight. “no silly! my father abdicated, making me queen.”

pure relief flooded art’s face. he’s sure that he’d be equally as devastated, if not more devastated than you if your father were to pass. 

as the weeks passed the two of you fell into the routine that was new but also similar to the one you had growing up. early in the morning art would sneak into your room and wake you up, claiming that it’s his duty as your knight. during the day he’ll linger outside your office and peek his head in sometimes to watch you do your diplomatic duties. typically knights eat with the other workers but you forced him to eat in the dining hall with you and your parents. at night a knight will post guard outside your room while art lays with you until you fall asleep. he claims that it’s because someone needs to stay close with you at all times but he can’t resist stealing a kiss or two. 

even though the two of you would never marry, it didn’t stop either you or art from loving each other.

[transusopp]

Pls draw zoro & usopp together ?? :D they’re one of my favorite duos & they don’t get very much fanart I think (or just usopp if u don’t wanna draw two people ofc!!!!!!)

look at these goobers. i heart them. idgaf what the haters say they're besties. talk to the wall. also i tried a new rendering thing + also drew their postts designs from memory cause i was too lazy to pull a ref (im so responsible). i hope it looks okay </3

[tacitusk1llwhore]

I think something weird about me is that in-game I personally don’t ship Arthur with anyone. Granted, I think some ships are so, so, so sweet, and the art Red Dead fans make of their ships are just *chef’s kiss* beautiful, wonderful, amazing, stunning. I will always reblog it, even if I don’t ship it because duh, beautiful, sweet art.

But how talented RDR fans are isn’t my main focus. I’ve never shipped Arthur with anyone in-game; sure, you have some interactions here and there, but at the end of the day, I think a huge part of Arthur’s character is his celibacy, his shyness away from intimacy. I mean, the last time he had a one-night stand, he had a baby, then the biggest heartbreak of his life.

Arthur pushes people away consistently and purposefully really until the end. Sure, we see some camp interactions that are heart-to-hearts, but part of his character is this distance from intimacy. I don’t have children, but from people who I know who do have children, say that their child is like their heart walking around outside of their body. With how sweet and loving Arthur is with Jack, I can only imagine how devoted of a father he was to his little boy, how much he adored him, how much he cared for Eliza.

His consistent denial of romantic relationships or even sex in general shows me that he has effectively closed that part of himself off, which for me makes it hard to truly see him with anyone. Don’t get me wrong, I love the “hardened man who denies love finds love.” Trope as much as the next person, I eat that shit up in fan fictions, but in canon, I find it so hard to get on board with ships simply for that reason.

Well, that reason and the whole so much happening means his stress level is 100 constantly throughout the game stuff. As much as I would love to engage in ship culture in the fandom, I can’t. I feel like his distance from intimacy is such a big part of his character that I just can’t. (I love you, Charthur. I wish I could ship you two so, so, so bad.)

Anyway, this isn’t a bash on any ships or saying other people can’t ship Arthur with people, just saying that I personally don’t ship Arthur with anyone and honestly find it hard to!

[ajoure]

its so terrible but i tried it (ive never drawn huggy before), mainly since i saw you mention it HAHA i love your art btw,,,, (you make such edible art and its such an inspo /pos)

THIS IS PERFECT LMAO

Literally what happened in chapter 4

( and thank you!! For meme and for the kind words💞 )

[onebadassunicorn]

Love Lies

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: pining, angst, talk of revenge, death and mind manipulation, mention of smut

word count: 2.3k

Permanent taglist: @motheroffae @tele86 @demon-master-zero @thegoddessofnothingness

Azriel permanent taglist: @kathren1sky-blog

Taglist @sinfully-yoursss @sillyfreakfanparty @phoenix666stuff @ quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @hellohauntedturnstudent @love-over-fears @kk191327 @i-am-infinite @historygeekqueen @yourdarkrose @fr0stfall @dnfhascorruptedme @azzydaddy

Image of Elain owned by Book Art by Sloan.

To see more work by this artist, join Patreon and become a member of this artist's collections!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

********

Chapter 19

Elain arrived in Winter Court under the cover of snowfall, her heart pounding as she stepped onto the frozen path leading toward the small estate where Azriel was staying.

She had never been this far north before, never felt the icy wind bite at her skin, but she hardly noticed it.

Because she was finally here.

Because after everything—after weeks of waiting, of carefully executed plans, of magic twisting reality into something of her own making—

She was finally going to have what was meant to be hers.

Azriel.

He was waiting for her outside, his broad form draped in a thick Winter Court cloak, his wings tucked behind him, his face calm as he stared out into the snow-covered landscape.

He looked peaceful.

And then—his hazel eyes met hers.

A slow, genuine smile spread across his face.

And before she could even speak, before she could even take another step forward—

He crossed the distance between them.

And pulled her into his arms.

Elain gasped, her breath stolen from her chest.

This was what she had dreamed of.

This was what she had been waiting for.

Azriel—warm, strong, real—

Holding her as if he had always meant to.

"Elain," he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "It’s so good to see you."

She pressed herself closer to him, inhaling his familiar scent—night and cedar and something wholly Azriel.

"I’ve missed you," she whispered.

"I’ve missed you too," he said softly, pulling back just enough to look at her.

And then, the words she had waited so long to hear fell from his lips.

"I finally see it now," he said, his gaze burning into hers. "It should have been you. It was always supposed to be you."

Elain’s heart stopped.

Her hands tightened on his cloak, her entire body trembling with pure, undiluted joy.

"Azriel," she choked out, her eyes welling with tears. "I—"

"I was so confused," he interrupted, shaking his head as if in disbelief. "For so long, I didn’t understand what was right in front of me. I convinced myself that the bond meant something. That it was real. But now I know the truth."

He cupped her face in his scarred hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks as her tears began to fall.

"It should have been three brothers and three sisters," he whispered. "I see that now."

Elain sobbed, unable to stop the sound from escaping her throat. "I’ve waited so long to hear you say that."

His lips curved into a small smile. "And I can’t wait to see the Inner Circle again," he told her, his voice full of certainty. "I want to tell them myself—tell them that I’ve made my decision. That I intend to marry you. To make it official."

Elain broke completely.

This was happening.

Azriel loved her.

He had chosen her.

And now—no one would ever take him away from her again.

They walked through the snow-dusted forest, side by side, the trees arching over them like a silent, watching audience.

Azriel’s hand never left hers.

His grip was steady, warm despite the cold.

Every now and then, when the wind picked up, he would pull her closer, wrapping his wing slightly around her, shielding her from the worst of the chill.

It was thoughtful.

Attentive.

Loving.

Everything she had dreamed of, everything she had hoped for.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked softly, his brows drawing together in concern when she shivered slightly.

"I’m fine," she reassured him, squeezing his hand. "But I appreciate you looking after me."

"I always will," he murmured, brushing a stray curl from her face.

Her heart swelled.

This was hers.

There was no trace of his mate left in his voice, in his touch, in his heart.

Just her.

And as they walked further into the winter woods,

Azriel no longer thought of the mate he left behind.

No longer thought of a bond that, in his mind, had never truly been real.

He only thought of Elain.

And he believed—with every fiber of his being—

That he had finally made the right choice.

The winter wind whispered through the towering trees, sending soft cascades of snow drifting from the branches above. The world around them was silent, untouched, save for the soft crunch of their boots on the frost-laden ground.

Azriel and Elain walked hand in hand, their fingers entwined as though they had always been meant to fit together.

For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Azriel was simply content to be here with her, to exist in this moment where everything felt… right.

For the first time in what felt like eternity, his mind was not weighed down with uncertainty.

There was no longing for something distant.

No ache for something lost.

Just Elain.

Soft.

Gentle.

Familiar.

She squeezed his hand, and he turned his gaze toward her, taking in the way the cold had flushed her cheeks, the way the golden strands of her hair seemed to glow against the snowy backdrop.

She was beautiful.

She was his.

He stopped walking.

Elain turned to him, her brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

"Az?" she asked softly.

He didn’t answer with words.

Instead, he lifted a hand to her face, cupping her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin against his palm.

She shivered at the touch but did not pull away.

If anything, she leaned into it.

His thumb traced over the curve of her cheek, and his heart stirred with something unfamiliar.

Something warm.

Something right.

"I love you," he murmured, the words slipping out so naturally, so effortlessly.

Elain’s lips parted slightly, her eyes widening.

"You—" her voice broke, as if she could barely believe what she was hearing.

Azriel’s lips curled into a small smile. "I think I’ve loved you all along."

A soft, broken sob slipped from her throat.

And then she was in his arms.

Pulling him down toward her, pressing her lips against his.

Azriel responded instantly.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, melting into the kiss like it was something he had always longed for.

Like it was something he had been waiting for.

The taste of her was familiar and new all at once.

Like a piece of his life that had been missing but had finally fallen into place.

Elain’s hands curled into his cloak, clutching at him as though she was afraid this was all a dream.

That she would wake and find that this moment wasn’t real.

But it was.

She had finally won.

She had finally rewritten fate.

And as Azriel kissed her beneath the falling snow, murmuring her name like a whispered promise, like something sacred—

He didn’t know that it was all a lie.

A carefully crafted illusion.

His new twisted reality.

*****

While Azriel was falling into the trap, while he was slowly unraveling in Winter Court, his mind no longer entirely his own—

Alatar moved.

His shadows slithered through the forests surrounding the cabin, creeping toward the sanctuary where you remained, mourning the mate who had just left you.

It would be easy.

You were already weak, already broken, already too devastated to even think about fighting back.

And once he had you—once he took you back to Hewn City, to his fortress, to the dark place where he had nearly drained you once before—

Then, he would finish what he started.

He would sever the bond completely.

Not through the Cauldron.

Not through magic meant to be wielded with care.

But through you.

Through your body, your blood, your very essence.

And once the bond was gone—once Azriel consummated his bond with Elain—

It would be finished.

You would be dead, and he would have your powers from the Dawn Court.

Then Elain would be with Azriel.

Soft.

Sweet.

Everything you weren’t.

And this time—Azriel wouldn’t resist.

Because he wouldn’t even remember why he was supposed to.

Alatar’s smirk curled into something sinister as he stepped into the darkness, his shadows stretching toward the cabin.

"Time to finish what I started."

*****

The crisp mountain air whipped around the cabin as Rhysand winnowed in, his power snapping like a storm, his shadows curling at his feet.

But he was not alone.

A presence darker than the night itself lingered just outside the cabin’s threshold.

Alatar.

Rhys barely arrived in time.

You stood frozen in place, terror filling every inch of your body as the warlock's shadows slithered toward you, curling around your limbs like they were claiming you.

A sick, twisted smirk played on Alatar’s lips as he reached for you—

But he never got the chance to touch you.

Because with a flick of his wrist, Rhysand’s power lashed out like a whip, locking Alatar’s body in place.

Paralyzed.

Frozen where he stood.

The warlock’s mouth twisted in shock before curling into amusement.

"Ah," Alatar mused, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "The great High Lord of Night finally figured it out. Took you long enough."

Rhysand stepped forward, power crackling through the air, the weight of his fury enough to crush worlds.

"What have you done to my brother?" Rhys demanded, his voice low and lethal.

Alatar laughed.

Actually laughed.

"Oh, Rhysand," he crooned. "I did exactly what I promised I would do. I broke him. I broke your precious Spymaster and his mate forever."

Your breath hitched, your hands shaking as you clutched at Rhys’s arm, desperate for answers, for clarity, for something.

"What do you mean?" your voice trembled, but there was fire beneath the fear.

Alatar’s smile turned cruel. "You’re already too late. The spell has nearly run its course—within a few hours, his mind will be lost forever."

You felt your knees buckle, but Rhys’s grip on you was firm, keeping you upright.

"You’re lying," Rhysand hissed, but his power flared like even he was afraid of the possibility.

"Am I?" Alatar tilted his head. "Your Azriel is gone, High Lord. He is in Winter Court right now, walking through the frozen woods with Elain Archeron, telling her that he loves her. That he has always loved her. He has already forgotten his mate."

"NO," you choked out, shaking your head violently.

But Alatar continued. "She traveled to him. She is with him as we speak, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, basking in the love he believes is real."

His smirk deepened. "And do you know how the spell becomes irreversible?"

Neither you nor Rhys answered.

Alatar leaned in, his smile a dagger in the dark. "They must consummate their bond."

The words struck like lightning, searing through your body, igniting the deepest, darkest kind of agony imaginable.

You could barely breathe past the pain.

"Once he takes her to bed," Alatar said with a mocking sigh, "Once he claims her, mind and body, the spell will be solidified. The bond he had with you will be nothing more than dust in the wind. Forgotten forever."

"You son of a—" Rhys’s power surged, his rage tangible, his violet eyes burning with lethal fury.

Alatar laughed again. "You should have listened, Rhysand. I warned you that you should have never come for her."

He opened his mouth to say more—to gloat, to revel in his victory—

But he never got the chance.

Because Rhysand lifted a hand and with a flick of his wrist, Alatar disintegrated.

Misted into nothing but a fine spray of blood and ash.

You let out a choked sob, collapsing against Rhys’s chest, your hands clutching at his leathers like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

"We have to go," you gasped between your sobs. "Rhys, please, we have to get to him before—before—"

Rhys wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead for the briefest moment, grounding you.

"I know," he murmured. "We’re going now."

His arms tightened around you, and the next thing you knew, the world shifted, the stars bending, the night folding in on itself—

And when you opened your eyes, you were in Winter Court.

But was it already too late?

*****

The air in Winter Court was sharp and cold, the biting wind slashing at your exposed skin as you and Rhysand winnowed just outside the estate where Azriel was staying.

Your heart was hammering.

Lights glowed warmly from inside, flickering through the windows. A fire burned in the hearth, casting shifting shadows against the frosted glass.

He was here.

With her.

You felt sick.

Rhysand didn’t hesitate.

With a wave of his hand, the doors to the estate burst open with a violent crack, the sound echoing through the empty halls like a clap of thunder.

The moment you stepped inside, you could feel it.

The wrongness of it all.

A place that should have never held him and her together.

"Azriel!" Rhysand’s voice boomed through the halls, dripping with authority, with power, with fury.

There was no response.

You rushed after him, your heartbeat a wild, erratic rhythm against your ribs as you moved through the estate, desperately searching.

Then—

Rhysand stopped.

And you knew.

You could hear the moans and whispers of love being murmured as two lovers came together.

You knew what lay beyond that door.

Your stomach twisted into knots.

Rhysand turned to you, his face hard, unreadable.

"Are you ready?" he asked, soft, but firm.

You could barely breathe.

But you nodded.

And with one sharp push, Rhysand threw open the door.

Chapter 20

[cannibal-walleye]

Skizzpulse band au? Skizzpulse band au! SKIZZPULSE BAND AUU!! SKIZZPULSE BAND AU!! BAND AU BAND AU BAND AU- I scream as I get dragged back to bed

Uh, hi!! I would, LOVE to see more of this lol. Even if you don't have time to actually write/draw for it, I will take literally anything. I cherish any drop of content like crumbs from those delicious sounding apology pastries. If you don't mind, I would specifically love a bit more on skizz & impulses first meeting, have they competed in any band wars? Do they have a lot a mutual friends? And they stupider here than tsots or do they have some common sense? Or just the Heart Fondation! Oh also! What about bdubs and etho? They have a lot of ties (ha. Get it? Ties) to those two! Itd be interesting to see if they have a place in this au.

I will genuinely take anything lol. Your writing FUELS me, and your art is always so pleasing to look at it calms me down?? I don't really know how to explain it. But your doing gods work/vvsilly

BAND AUUUUUUUU

I have LOTS of thoughts on their first meeting--but you don't get to see that yet ;) I have a bunch of art drawn (ft. the most adorable Impulse ever) and all that's left is to write a little blorb of how it went down, which I'll probably do sometime tomorrow :D (I'm very very excited for this lol)

They do have mutual friends, since Skizz tends to know EVERYBODY, but Impulse is a bit of a recluse apart from when Gem and Scott make him get out of the house, so he hasn't met Skizz yet. Skizz happens to have never interacted directly with Gem or Scott either, but they've all heard of each other. As for mutual connections, Impulse does know Tango (who is part of Heart Foundation, obviously), and probably some others, but that's it for important connections I can come up with off the top of my head!

As for stupid levels, these guys are certified idiots, rest assured. However, this one isn't exactly a slow burn! I'd say more, but you'll see soon enough... >:)

Bdubs, I don't have any particular plans for. I'm still brainstorming a lot of the hermits n such. Etho knows everyone, tho (add him to mutual friends list ig), and in particular, the Roomies exist in this AU like they did in secret life, because I love them dearly <3 Other than that, he's a college student, studying tech of some sort, and lives with Cleo and Grian :) (and potentially Bdubs, if I get around to giving him a backstory. Honestly if you have ideas, feel free to share) He occasionally helps out with the sound tech for the Heart Foundation, but it's rare.

And thank you so much! I'm thrilled everyone's liking my silly lil band au thus far, I've kinda hyperfixated on it these past few days lmao. My wrist actually hurts from drawing so much rip, I need to get a proper stand for my tablet so I'm not hunched over the desk like a shrimp. But yeah! I have lots more art and quite a bit of writing I wanna do :D idk how far this'll go, since it's not meant to be serious or anything, but it's a fun experiment

Okie have good day

[msklassickilla]

Prada You Chapter 25 (The End)

Summary:

In the summer of 1998, sparks fly between Nyeya and Jey.

Nyeya is an 18-year-old around the way girl. Jey is older, paid, and fine. He is also the leader of the infamous Prada Bois alongside his twin brother Jimmy.  The two have chemistry. However, Nyeya has plans outside of her attraction. With a birthday around the corner and dreams of living a good life, Nyeya sets her sights on enjoying the perks of Jey's money and hood celebrity.

But baby girl has no clue what it takes to really be down. Nyeya is about to learn some hard life lessons at the expense of her 'Prada' priced dreams.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Nyeya (Nye) Green (OC)

Author’s Note: This story is happening in an alternative universe. It features the current and original Bloodline members along with other WWE stars. So, the characters are themselves, but some things are switched around for the stories sake. This was originally written with all original characters, but I think it could work better this way. Hope you guys enjoy it and I actually finish it...

Warning: Please be advised that this chapter contains violence, harsh/foul language, age gap relationships, violence, underage drinking,

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Chapter 25: Forever Young (The End)

August 30th 1998

Sunday morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting thin golden lines across my bedroom floor. I sat cross-legged on the carpet, surrounded by an array of neatly wrapped gift bags, their glossy surfaces reflecting the light. Jey’s gifts. My fingers hesitated over the handles of one before I reached in and pulled out a small box. Inside lay a pair of red heels, their delicate straps glistening under the morning sun. They were stunning. My breath hitched as I realized they matched the dress I had picked for my party perfectly.

Jey had been paying attention.

Each bag held something I had casually mentioned in passing—perfume, jewelry, even a new journal with my initials engraved in the corner. My hands shook slightly as I reached for the last bag, feeling the weight of it settle in my lap. Nestled under the tissue paper was another pair of shoes I wanted and a white envelope with my name scrawled across it in familiar, uneven handwriting. My pulse quickened.

Tugging it open, a folded piece of paper slipped out and fluttered to the floor. I reached for it, carefully unfolding the letter inside.

Jey’s words sprawled across the page in black ink.

"Nyeya, I don’t know how to say this right, so I’ma just say it. I never learned how to love somebody the way they needed to be loved. I only knew how to take. To claim. To control. Because that’s what was done to me. That’s what I was taught. You know my dad wasn’t around unless it benefited him. My mom tried her best, but I found love in the streets first. The streets taught me how to be a man before anybody else did."

I swallowed hard, blinking away the burn creeping into my eyes.

"I wanted to be like my older cousin. He was everything I thought a man should be. Tough. Respected. Feared. He handled business, and he handled his women the same way. I followed that blueprint. I thought that’s how it was supposed to be. But you… you showed me something different. You made me want to unlearn everything I thought I knew. And I’m sorry, baby. I really am."

Tears slipped silently down my cheeks as I kept reading.

"I should’ve treated you better. I should’ve let you breathe instead of making you feel like you belonged to me in a way that wasn’t love. I don’t know if I can fix that, but I swear to you, I’m going to try. You want space? I’ma give you some. But I need you to know something: I ain’t letting you go. I love you too much. I need you too much. I can’t see myself living in this world without you in it."

My hands trembled as I clutched the letter to my chest. My breath shuddered out of me, my heart beating out a rhythm of confusion and longing.

I had spent days trying to convince myself I was over him. That I was done. That I could move on. But now, holding this letter, reading his words, feeling his pain woven between the ink and paper—I wasn’t so sure anymore.

Images flickered through my mind, moments frozen in time. The first time I met him. The way he looked at me like I was something worth having. The way he made me feel like I was the most important thing in the world when he was good to me. But then, the fights. The control. The possessiveness. The way he took and took without realizing I was running out of pieces to give.

I reached for the phone before I could talk myself out of it.

Jey answered on the second ring.

"Hey, baby," he said, voice low and rough like he had just woken up.

I tried to steady myself, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t go away. "I just read your letter," I whispered.

Jey was quiet for a beat. Then, softer, "You good?"

I wiped at my damp cheeks. "I don’t know. I—" My voice broke.

Jey exhaled into the receiver. "Ask me anything. Whatever you wanna know, I’ma tell you."

I knew he meant it.

I thought about the dozens of questions swirling in my mind. About us. About him. About everything we had been through and everything we might still face. But I didn’t want to do this over the phone.

"Can we talk in person?" I asked.

Jey didn’t hesitate. "Yeah. Let’s go to the lake. Just me and you."

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. "Okay."

"I’ll be there soon, baby. Just wait for me."

The call ended, but my heart kept racing. I set the phone down beside me, staring at Jey’s letter still clutched in my hands.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I was walking right back into something I wouldn’t be able to escape from. But maybe, just maybe, this was something I needed. A final answer to the question that had been eating at me for weeks.

Did I really want to let him go?

---

The car ride to the lake was wrapped in silence, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. It was the kind of quiet that felt heavy with meaning, with thoughts neither of us could put into words just yet. The soft hum of the radio played a song I barely registered, and the steady rhythm of the road beneath us was almost hypnotic.

Jey kept one hand on the wheel, his other resting absentmindedly on my thigh. He wasn’t gripping it possessively, wasn’t trying to stake his claim—he was just… there. Present. And for once, it felt like he wasn’t trying to control the moment.

The sun hung low in the sky by the time we reached the lake, casting a warm, golden hue over the still water. The sight of it made my chest tighten. This place had always been peaceful to me, a sanctuary. A place where things made sense, even when my world felt like it was spiraling.

Jey parked and cut the engine. Without a word, we got out and walked towards a tree-covered spot, the soft crunch of grass under our sneakers filling the space between us. The air smelled fresh, tinged with the scent of water and pine, and for a moment, I closed my eyes, taking it in.

Jey sat down first, leaning back against the thick trunk of the tree, stretching his legs out in front of him. I sat beside him, pulling my knees up, wrapping my arms around them.

I started with small questions, ones that felt safe.

"What were you like as a kid?"

Jey exhaled through his nose, a half-laugh that held no humor. "Curious. Hardheaded. Always into shit."

"Tell me something I don’t know," I lightly chuckled.

Jey was quiet for a beat, then he spoke, his voice lower, softer. "I loved my mama more than anything. She was everything to me. She still is. But my pops… he wasn’t there unless he needed something. A favor, money, whatever. And when he was around, he acted like I was just some little dude that wasn’t worth his time."

I turned my head slightly, watching his profile. His jaw was tense, his hands clasped together between his knees.

"I spent most of my time looking for something to hold on to. Something that felt like…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "I don’t know. Stability? Control? Belonging?"

I nodded, letting him know I was listening, really listening.

"I found that in my cousin," Jey continued. "He was everything I wanted to be. Respected. Feared. Untouchable. When he walked into a room, people moved. They listened. I wanted that. I thought that was the only way to be a man."

His voice was laced with something I couldn’t quite place. Regret? Bitterness? A little of both?

"When he went to jail, everything changed. Me and Jimmy had to step up. People were looking at us to run things, to make sure we didn’t fall apart. But you know what? Nobody thought I could do it."

Jey let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head.

"They thought Jimmy would hold shit together. Not me. They said I was too soft. I wasn’t built for this life."

His hands clenched into fists against his thighs.

"That shit ate me up. My own people, the same ones I broke bread with, laughed with, called family—they ain’t believe in me. Not until I started proving myself."

I felt a lump form in my throat, but I stayed quiet, letting him get it all out.

"So, I did what I had to do," Jey said, his voice rising slightly, like the weight of his past was crashing down on him all at once. "I made moves. I took care of problems. I did shit that made people respect me. But it never felt like enough."

His breathing turned shallow. His shoulders were tense, his whole body rigid like he was trying to hold something in.

"I had to kill so many people, Nyeya," he whispered, and my blood ran cold. "So many."

He wasn’t looking at me anymore. His gaze was locked onto the water, but his eyes were distant, unfocused. Like he was seeing ghosts from his past.

"Every time, it got easier. Until it didn’t. Until it started eating at me. Until I started wondering if I was even a person anymore or just some monster they created."

Jey’s voice broke on the last word, and my heart shattered right along with it.

"I got so much blood on my hands," he murmured, his head falling forward. "I don’t even know who I am anymore."

He kept apologizing, over and over, like he was in some kind of daze. Like he wasn’t even talking to me anymore, but to the ghosts that haunted him.

I couldn’t take it. I reached for him, grabbing his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me.

"Hey," I whispered. "Look at me, Jey."

His eyes flickered up to mine, and I saw it. The pain. The weight. The fear.

"You are enough." My voice was firm, unwavering. "No matter what’s happened, no matter what you’ve done, you are enough."

Jey’s lip trembled.

"You hear me?" I asked, my thumbs brushing against his cheeks.

He nodded slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he believed it, but he wanted to.

"You’re not that little boy trying to prove himself anymore. You don’t have to fight for respect. You don’t have to prove anything to anybody. You are enough, Jey."

Tears welled in his eyes, and for the first time, he let them fall.

I held him. I let him cry.

I poured into him, telling him all the things I wished someone had told him before he had to become the man he was today. I told him he wasn’t just his mistakes. That he wasn’t just the blood on his hands. That he still had time to figure out who he wanted to be.

I didn’t know if he believed me. But I needed him to hear it. We stayed there until the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky painted in streaks of pink and orange.

By the time Jey dropped me off at home, I was emotionally drained. As I lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, one thought lingered in my mind. I was starting to have a change of heart.

But could I really love someone who was this broken?

---

August 31st 1998

The late morning sunbathed the campus in a golden hue as I stepped into the community college, the crisp scent of freshly printed brochures mixing with the faint aroma of coffee from the nearby student lounge. The place buzzed with quiet energy—students moving between offices, advisors speaking in hushed but enthusiastic tones, the occasional burst of laughter from the hallway.

I had never really pictured myself here, sitting in a stiff chair across from an advisor, filling out enrollment forms, trying to piece together a future that felt so uncertain. But now, as I tapped my pen against the edge of the desk, waiting for the next question, something inside me stirred—maybe this was where I was supposed to be.

The advisor, a middle-aged woman with kind brown eyes and a welcoming smile, glanced up from her papers. “So, Miss Green, do you have any idea what you’d like to major in? Or maybe a career path you’re interested in?”

I hesitated for a moment, letting the question settle. It was something I had been thinking about but hadn’t quite voiced out loud. The idea had been lingering at the back of my mind, like a quiet whisper waiting to be acknowledged.

“I think I want to be a psychologist,” I finally said, my voice stronger than I expected.

The advisor’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “That’s a great field. What made you choose that?”

I took a breath, feeling the weight of my answer before speaking. “Because I want to help people heal… people who think they’re too far gone. I want them to see that they don’t have to stay broken, that they can still turn things around and be good people.”

The advisor studied me for a moment before smiling warmly. “I like that answer. The world needs more people who think like you.”

I smiled back, but inside, I felt something shift—a sense of purpose settling deep in my chest.

After finalizing my paperwork and getting my class schedule, I walked out of the building feeling lighter, like I was finally taking a step toward something bigger than myself. I had spent so much time being wrapped up in Jey’s world, in Prada Boi business, in chaos and uncertainty. But this? This felt like a decision I made for me.

That high lasted until I pulled up to my building and spotted a familiar car parked out front.

Him.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I approached. He leaned against the hood of his car, arms crossed over his broad chest, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. He was wearing a white tank top that showed off his tattoos, and for once, he didn’t look tense—he looked… calm. Relaxed. Less like the Jey who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

I stopped in front of him, tilting my head. “What brings you by?”

Jey smirked, pulling out his keys and twirling them around his finger. “I wanted Waffle House. Thought I’d see if you wanted to roll with me.” His eyes skimmed over me with something unreadable. “Plus, I wanna hear how things went at the college.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, surprised by the interest. But I wasn’t about to turn down free food. “Alright,” I said, slipping into the passenger seat.

The ride was smooth, easy. Jey listened as I told him about my advisor, about choosing psychology, about what I wanted to do with it. He nodded along, actually paying attention, which caught me off guard.

“That’s real,” he said after I finished. “I can see you doing that. You got the heart for it.”

His words caught me off guard. I turned to look at him, but he was focused on the road, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. He had said it so casually, but it felt genuine.

At Waffle House, we slid into a booth, the scent of bacon and coffee thick in the air. It felt… normal. No tension, no drama, just two people eating and talking. It reminded me of the times we were good, when things between us weren’t so complicated.

For once, Jey wasn’t pretending, wasn’t looking over his shoulder, wasn’t distracted. He just listened. And when he wasn’t listening, he was making me laugh with some story about Jimmy getting too high and eating three whole boxes of dry ass cereal in one sitting. For the first time in a long time, I felt like we were actually moving in the right direction.

Then his phone rang.

I watched as his entire demeanor shifted in an instant. His muscles tensed, his jaw locked, and the lightness in his eyes disappeared. He let it ring for a few seconds before answering, keeping his voice low. I couldn’t hear who was on the other line, but whatever was being said wasn’t good.

When he hung up, I knew before he even spoke.

“Gotta wrap this up,” he muttered, pulling out some cash and tossing it on the table. “I got some business to handle, mamas.”

I didn’t press. I knew better. The ride back was quiet, not in the comfortable way it had been earlier, but in the kind of way that made me nervous. Jey gripped the wheel tighter than necessary, his mind obviously elsewhere. I wanted to ask, but I also didn’t.

I was done being in Prada Boi business. When he pulled up to my building, I leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Call me later?”

Jey exhaled through his nose, nodding. “Yeah. I will.”

The rest of my night was slow, spent flipping through TV channels and listening to the radio. I tried not to think about Jey, but my gut told me something was amiss. When my phone rang, I sat up quickly, expecting his name to flash across the screen. It wasn’t him. It was Kiyah.

I answered, and before I could even get a word out, she launched into her gossip.

“Bitch, tell me why the Prada Bois are beefing with some old associates over drugs and money?”

My stomach tightened. I stayed quiet, and Kiyah took that as her cue to keep talking. “You remember that dude Damian got into it with at Tama’s party when they we're at the bar?”

I thought back for a second, vaguely recalling the altercation. “I guess,” I said slowly.

All I could remember from that night was that kiss from Damian. A kiss I was wanting to forget.

“Well,” Kiyah huffed. “Jacob told me that dude was brought in by Jey to handle a deal with some new buyer. But the deal went south, and now both crews are blaming each other. Prada Bois lost money and product. And you know what that means.”

I swallowed hard. “It might turn into an all-out war.”

“Exactly,” Kiyah said, clicking her tongue. “And we both know Jey or the others ain’t the type to let that slide.”

I sat back against my pillows, my fingers tightening around the phone. My gut had been right. Something was definitely wrong. Kiyah kept talking, but my mind was elsewhere. Jey had been tense. Distracted. And now, knowing what I did, I understood why.

I should’ve pressed. I should’ve asked him what was going on. Because when Jey didn’t call me that night like he said he would, I knew—things were worse than we all realized.

---

The phone rang, cutting through the silence of the apartment. I grabbed it quickly, hoping it was Jey, but my stomach dropped when I saw Damian's number on the screen instead. Something told me this wasn’t just a casual call like last time. I hesitated for a second before answering.

"Hello?"

"You need to cancel the party, Nye," Damian said, getting straight to the point.

I frowned, sitting up straighter. "What? Why?"

"Too much attention," he explained. "No matter what Jey tells you, this party don’t need to happen. Things are getting too hot right now, and the last thing anybody needs is a big-ass event putting a target on our back especially when we’re all together.”

I exhaled, rubbing my forehead. "Damian, you know that’s not my decision. Jey’s already set everything up. He paid for everything. He’s gonna do whatever the hell he wants."

"Then you need to convince him, mami." Damian said firmly.

I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. "Tell me why you feel this way. What exactly do you think is gonna happen?"

There was a long pause before he finally answered. "I don’t know," he admitted. "But I got a bad feeling, and Jey ain’t listening to nobody right now. He thinks he’s untouchable."

I swallowed, my throat tight. "I’ll try… but you know how he is."

"Just do your best, muñeca (doll)," Damian said before hanging up.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the phone for a moment before tossing it back onto the receiver.

I was alone again. Michael was off somewhere with his friends, and my mama was spending the night with Reggie. The apartment felt too quiet, too empty, and it made my thoughts even louder.

I left my room, feeling like walls were closing on me after awhile. Eventually after flipping through channels on the tv in the living room, I leaned back against the couch, closing my eyes, but before I could fully relax, there was a knock at the door. My heart jumped as I stood up, my mind already knowing who it was before I even checked.

Jey stood on the other side of the door. I wasn’t surprised, but I also wasn’t expecting him. He hadn’t called since he dropped me off the other day. His face was neutral, his posture relaxed, but I knew better. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Still, I stepped aside and let him in.

He walked past me, his presence immediately filling the space like he owned it. He smelled like cologne and a tinge of alcohol, a scent I’d come to associate with him. He sat on the couch, stretching his arms over the back of it like he belonged there, like nothing had changed between us. I studied him carefully. He looked calm, but there was a tightness in his jaw, a stiffness in his movements. He was hiding something.

I sat next to him, waiting. If he wanted to tell me, he would. The TV played in the background, filling the silence between us. Jey’s hand found my thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles against my skin. Normally, it would’ve made me relax, but tonight, it only made me more aware of the tension in the air.

After a few minutes, I finally spoke. "What’s wrong?"

Jey didn’t even hesitate. "Nothing, baby. Nothing, I can’t handle."

I scoffed. A lie. Shit was bad and probably getting worse by the minute. I wanted to press him, but I also knew that with Jey, timing was everything. If I pushed too hard, he’d shut down completely. So, I tried a different approach.

"The party," I said casually. "You excited?"

Jey’s lips twitched into a smirk. "Hell yeah. I think I did a good job."

I forced a small smile, nodding like I believed him. But I didn’t. Not really. His excitement didn’t feel real. Something was weighing on him, something he was refusing to say aloud or admit. I should’ve kept going. Should’ve r him of Damian’s warning, should’ve tried harder to convince him to call it off. But then Jey pulled me into his lap, his lips grazing my neck, his hands firm and demanding as they traveled my body.

I knew what this was. A distraction. He always did this. And I let him have it. I could admit that I missed his touch as it had the ability to take me beyond the stars.

I melted into him. Jey always knew how to make me forget. Forget my doubts, forget my worries, forget everything except him. Lust took over, and before I could stop myself, we were in my room, tangled in sheets, in each other. By the time Jey was getting dressed, his phone rang. He grabbed it from his pocket, glancing at the screen before looking back at me.

"You coming Saturday, right?"

I was still caught up in the wild session we just had, still floating somewhere between reality and whatever spell he had cast over me. I nodded without thinking.

"Yeah."

Jey smirked, stepping toward me and pressing a slow, deep kiss to my lips. "I’ll pick you up at nine."

I watched as he walked out, phone to his ear, voice low as he disappeared into the night. The moment the door shut. Damian’s warning came flooding back. I had completely forgotten about it. And now, I just prayed nothing went wrong.

---

September 4th 1998

My Friday was spent at the nail salon with Kiyah and Natasha. The smell of acrylic and fresh polish filled the air as the three of us sat side by side, picking out colors for our nails and toes. Nataya was off somewhere looking at houses with Jimmy, leaving Natasha in a quiet, contemplative mood. The buzzing of the electric nail file hummed in the background as I glanced over at her, remembering the look she gave Taya and Jimmy at the bowling alley.

I turned toward her, voice soft but direct. “How do you feel about Taya moving in with Jimmy?”

Natasha sighed, watching as the nail tech shaped her almond-shaped tips. “I’m not happy about it,” she admitted. “I just don’t believe Jimmy is as good to Taya as she says he is. I think he’s pressuring her into moving, keeping the baby, and basically altering her whole life for him.”

I nodded, understanding her frustration. She had always been protective over Nataya, and now that her sister was wrapped up with Jimmy, it made sense that Natasha would be wary.

“I love my sister,” she continued, “but I have to let her make her own mistakes.”

Kiyah scoffed, shaking her head. “Girl, I don’t blame you. But you know how Taya is. Once her mind is made up, it’s made up.”

Natasha sighed again, running a hand over her face before her expression softened. “At least I know Sami’s one of the good ones. Like I get what he do for money but outside of that he just a good guy.”

Kiyah grinned, leaning forward in her chair with a teasing smirk. “I’m shocked you into white meat.”

We all burst into laughter, Natasha rolling her eyes but unable to hide her grin. “Trust me, I’m surprised too,” she admitted. “But I really do like him.”

Kiyah wiggled her brows. “Uh-huh. You sure it ain’t just a phase? ‘Cause I seen the way he looks at you, and that ain’t no casual thing.”

Natasha tried to play it cool, but I could tell by the slight blush on her cheeks that she was starting to fall for Sami more than she let on.

After a few more minutes of teasing, Kiyah turned her attention to me. “So… what’s up with all those big ass passion marks on your neck?” she asked, smirking as she tilted her head toward me.

I pretended to be shy, lowering my gaze with a little smile. “Me and Jey are in a good place right now,” I admitted. “Not saying we back together. Just saying that I’m enjoying his company it while it lasts.”

Kiyah and Natasha exchanged a knowing look before Natasha shook her head. “Girl, please. That’s your man. You ain’t going nowhere. And he not letting you go nowhere.”

I sighed dramatically, holding up my freshly polished nails as if they were the most important thing in the world. “I swear, the moment he acts up, I’m out.”

Kiyah snorted. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see about that.”

---

Once we left the nail salon, I headed back home, feeling light from the girl talk but also exhausted from the past few days. The house was quiet when I walked in, the scent of fresh laundry filling the air. My mama was curled up on the couch, flipping through channels, but when she saw me, she patted the spot next to her.

Without hesitation, I slid in beside her, resting my head against her shoulder as she clicked on a movie. A Time to Kill played on the screen, the familiar voices of Samuel L. Jackson and Matthew McConaughey filling the room. We watched in comfortable silence, eating popcorn and occasionally commenting on the movie.

I loved nights like this. Nights where I could just exist, where I didn’t have to think too hard about anything. Where I felt safe.

My mother glanced at me with warmth in her eyes. She reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear before speaking. “I used to want you to stay my little girl forever,” she murmured. “So, I could keep you with me, always. But I see now that no matter how old you get, we’ll always be close.”

Her words made my chest tighten with emotion. I turned to her, gripping her hand in mine. “We will, Mama. I promise.”

She smiled, squeezing my hand before leaning back against the couch. The weight of the moment settled over us, filling the space with a quiet kind of love. And just like that, we fell asleep together, fingers intertwined, the movie still playing softly in the background.

---

September 5th 1998

Saturday arrived with rain coming down in heavy sheets, drumming against the windowpane. I sat up in bed, watching the storm through the glass, wondering if it was some sort of sign. Good or bad, I wasn’t sure. The dark gray sky made the morning drag, stretching time like a slow-moving tide.

Michael came strolling out of his room and peeked into mine, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. “So… you think me and my boys can slide to the party tonight?”

I gave him a sharp look, not even entertaining the idea. “You know damn well y’all can’t come.”

He rolled his eyes, exhaling dramatically. “Man, that’s some bullshit. If we can’t come, then you and your little broke friends shouldn’t be able to go either.”

My eyes widened before I jumped up, shoving him out of my room. “Boy, get the hell on with that! Broke where?” I called after him as he laughed, dodging into his room before I could throw something at him. He always knew how to get under my skin.

The morning passed agonizingly slow. I busied myself around the house, doing small tasks to keep my mind occupied. Anything to make time move faster. By the time the early evening rolled around, Kiyah and Natasha arrived, bringing their usual energy and chaos.

“Taya ain’t coming?” I asked as Natasha set down her purse.

She shook her head. “Nah, she’s been feeling off all day. I told her to rest and meet us there later.”

I nodded, understanding. Things had been weird between them since Jimmy came into the picture. Natasha got to work on my hair, carefully styling it into a sleek updo, while Kiyah sat beside me, drinking one of the wine coolers she smuggled from her house. “I’m tryna get a lil’ tipsy before we leave,” she admitted, taking another sip.

“Same,” Natasha added, popping her gum.

As Natasha finished up my hair, she moved on to Kiyah’s while I started on my makeup. Kiyah added the finishing touch, carefully placing small adhesive gems around my eyes to enhance the look. The three of us danced to the music playing from my stereo, singing along, laughing, and letting the wine coolers warm our veins. Slowly but surely, excitement began to creep into my chest.

When the time finally came, Kiyah and Natasha helped me into my dress. The fabric hugged my body in all the right places, the shimmer of the gems catching the light beautifully. I turned toward the mirror, momentarily stunned.

I looked like a princess. I ran my hands down the gown, taking in the way it fit, the way my makeup and hair pulled the entire look together. My heart swelled.

“Bitch, you look good,” Kiyah hyped me up, adjusting the straps on my dress.

“Grown as hell,” Natasha added, smirking.

I held back the sudden swell of emotion, refusing to ruin Kiyah’s hard work. “Y’all gon’ make me cry,” I admitted, fanning my face.

“Don’t start, ‘cause if you cry, I’ma cry,” Kiyah warned, and we all laughed.

---

By 9, we were stepping out of the apartment, heels clicking against the pavement. A limo sat at the curb, its sleek black frame glistening under the streetlights.

We all froze.

“No fucking way,” Natasha whispered.

Kiyah’s mouth dropped. “Bitch.”

The driver stepped forward, opening the door, and out stepped Jey, Jacob, and Sami, all dressed to impress. Jey smirked, dressed in a crisp suit, his chain catching the light. Jacob adjusted his watch, while Sami shoved his hands into his pockets, his usual cool demeanor faltering slightly.

I nearly squealed. I hadn’t even ridden in a limo for prom. Kiyah, Natasha, and I ran straight to our dates, grins stretching across our faces. I wrapped my arms around Jey’s neck, pressing a kiss to his lips. Kiyah threw her arms around Jacob, and Natasha—without hesitation—grabbed Sami by the collar and kissed him, shocking everyone, including Sami himself.

The group erupted into laughter and cheers, teasing the two of them as Natasha shrugged it off like it was nothing. Inside the limo, we kept the energy going. Music blasted from the speakers as we danced and sang along, the excitement thick in the air.

I leaned into Jey’s side, whispering, “Thank you.”

He looked down at me, brushing a loose curl from my face. “You deserve nothing but the best, baby.”

And for the first time in a long time, I believed him.

---

The limo pulled up to the front of the nightclub, and even before we stepped out, I could feel the energy buzzing through the air. The bass from the music inside vibrated through the pavement, the muffled voices of the crowd merging with the beat. Excitement stirred in my belly, but so did something else—something I couldn’t quite name.

Jey stepped out first, fixing his suit before extending his hand to me. I took it, and the second my heels hit the pavement, the doors to the club swung open. A rush of warmth and flashing lights washed over me as the crowd inside erupted in cheers.

A smile stretched across my face so wide that my cheeks ached. Inside, the entire nightclub was decorated in deep shades of red, black, and gold. Prada Boi colors. Balloons lined the ceiling, the tables were draped in silk cloths, and trays of food were set against the walls. Bodies filled the space, moving in rhythm to the beat the DJ was spinning.

This was my night. The night I imagined when I first started talking to Jey. It had arrived and I was going to enjoy it fully.

As we walked through the crowd, the love was instant. People showered me with compliments, hugs, and laughter. Bronson’s wife pulled me into a hug, whispering how beautiful I looked. Nataya nearly crushed my ribs with how tight she held me.

“You look like a damn queen, bitch,” she squealed.

I giggled, feeling warmth spread through me. “You tryna kill me before I even get to enjoy the night?”

She finally let me go, grinning. “Maybe.”

I made my rounds, speaking to everyone, soaking in the attention and love. Every time I glanced over my shoulder, Jey was watching me. But he wasn’t hovering, wasn’t clinging to me like he usually would. He stood back, letting me shine. Maybe he really was trying to change.

The night unfolded beautifully. Laughter, dancing, drinking, eating— I was having the time of my life. I felt weightless, free. At some point, I pulled Jey away from the crowd, wrapping my arms around his neck, placing my forehead against his. His hands slid to my waist, his grip firm but gentle.

"Again, thank you," I whispered, my voice barely heard over the music.

Jey’s eyes softened as he looked at me, his thumb rubbing slow circles on my hip. “You don’t gotta thank me, baby. I love you.”

His words sent warmth all through my body, but before I could respond, someone called his name from across the room. Jey sighed, kissing my forehead before pulling away. “I’ll be right back, a’ight?”

I nodded, watching as he disappeared into the crowd.

I found Kiyah and Natasha on the dance floor just as Biggie’s "Hypnotize" blasted through the speakers.

"Biggie, Biggie, Biggie, can't you see? Sometimes your words just hypnotize me..."

The three of us belted out the lyrics, moving in sync with each other, hands in the air, hips swaying. The whole club was alive, the energy electric. Tonight felt good. I caught a glimpse of Damian sliding into the club, Dulce tucked under his arm. If Damian was here—with Dulce no less—then maybe the threats had passed. Maybe things really were cooling down.

I exhaled, letting my shoulders relax. As the night deepened, I found myself curled up in Jey’s lap, a plate of food in my hands as I listened to him, Jimmy, Tonga, and Solo trade stories. The four of them laughed loudly, their voices full of ease.

No one seemed tense.

No one seemed on edge.

For the first time in a long time, things felt normal. It felt like nothing could go wrong.

---

The bass from the speakers thumped through my chest as I swayed to the music, a half-empty glass in my hand. I had a buzz, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the emotions swirling inside me. My heels had been abandoned under the table, my feet sore from dancing. I sat in one of the plush bar chairs by myself, watching the scene unfold around me.

Kiyah and Jacob were in the middle of the dance floor, moving in sync like they had been doing this for years. Natasha was wrapped up in Sami, her hands resting against his chest as she whispered something in his ear that made him grin. Nataya and Jimmy dance in corner, his face buried in neck.

I should have been out there with them. I should have been soaking up every moment of this party that Jey had put together just for me. But instead, I was sitting here, lost in my own head. Having the Prada Bois as family could be fun. They were wild, unpredictable, and full of love in their own way. They looked out for each other. Protected what was theirs. I had grown to love them; despite all the things I knew about them. Despite knowing what they were capable of. Despite knowing what Jey was capable of.

Before I could spiral any further, I felt a familiar warmth slide over me, a solid presence pressing against my back as Jey settled into the chair, pulling me onto his lap. I melted into his embrace, letting him hold me like he always did.

“You enjoyin’ yourself, baby?” His voice was low, thick with something I couldn’t quite place.

I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah... I’m having the time of my life.”

Jey leaned in, pressing a kiss against my bare shoulder, his lips lingering. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t wanna live this life without you. I wanna create more memories like this with you… only you.”

His words sent a chill through me, and I tilted my head back to meet his gaze. His brown eyes were soft, too soft, like he was seeing me for the first time.

“You make me better,” he continued, his fingers tracing circles against my thigh. “I ain’t never done nothin’ like this for no other woman. Only one I ever really did for was my mama... until you.”

Something in my chest tightened, my throat threatening to close. Jey made me feel special. Like I was everything. Like I was the one thing he needed in this world.

I kissed him. The kiss never deepened. It never got the chance.

A loud crash echoed from outside the club, glass shattering, followed by the sharp rise of angry voices. The energy in the room shifted instantly. The bass of the music still pulsed through the speakers, but the tension in the air became thick enough to choke on.

Jey stiffened against me, his head turning toward the entrance. My stomach dropped as I saw the Prada Bois move in unison, heading toward the source of the commotion. Jey's grip on my waist tightened for a split second before he turned to me. His eyes were hard, voice sharp.

“Stay inside.”

I barely had time to react before he let me go and disappeared into the crowd pressing toward the doors. The uneasy feeling in my gut twisted as I watched them go. My feet felt frozen in place, my body telling me to listen, but my mind already screaming no. The doors flew open before the Prada Bois could even reach them. Several men stormed inside, their presence turning the already tense atmosphere into something dangerous.

The air shifted again. This time, it was electric. The music still played, but it might as well have been silent. Everything slowed for a split second before it all imploded.

Yelling.

Shoving.

A punch thrown, then another.

A full-on brawl broke out in seconds before my eyes.

My breath hitched as fists flew, bodies shoved each other, people knocked over tables, and glass shattered against the floor. I scanned the chaos, desperate to find Jey. My heart pounded when I finally spotted him locked in a struggle with a man I knew I had seen before, but my mind refused to place him.

I called Jey’s name. Once. Twice. My voice was swallowed by the chaos. I needed to get closer. I pushed forward, dodging people running in every direction. Every time I thought I had a clear path, I got shoved back, my frustration growing with each failed attempt. My pulse pounded in my ears as I lost sight of Jey again.

I turned quickly, spotting Kiyah, Nataya, and Natasha in the far corner. Relief flooded me, my instinct telling me to get to them, to get safe. I didn’t even get the chance to take the first step.

The first gunshot rang out.

Then another.

And another.

Panic erupted like a bomb going off in the middle of the room. Screams tore through the air as people scrambled, running in all directions. The music cut off, but my ears still rang from the shots.

I turned to run.

A sharp, searing pain shot through my arm. It felt like fire had been injected into my bloodstream, burning through me so fast that my body barely had time to register what had happened before—

Another shot.

My side exploded in white-hot agony. The force knocked the air from my lungs, my knees buckling beneath me.

I fell.

The floor felt so far away.

I could hear screams, glass breaking, the heavy thud of bodies crashing into tables, but everything was starting to sound distant. My vision blurred, the edges darkening as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

Shapes moved around me, voices rising, but my body wouldn’t respond.

Through the chaos, I heard one voice.

Frantic. Desperate. Calling my name.

It was Jey’s.

I tried to hold onto that voice, tried to focus, to respond, to move, but my limbs were heavy, my eyelids even heavier.

Someone was crying. Sirens wailed in the distance.

I needed to hold on. I had to.

But I was slipping.

Everything started to fade.

And then—

Darkness.

---

Epilogue

The night was a blur of flashing red and blue lights, sirens screaming through the air, and the sharp scent of gunpowder clinging to the pavement outside the club. The scene was chaos—people crying, bodies scattered, and the Prada Bois standing in tense clusters, their clothes stained with blood, their eyes flickering with something between rage and grief.

Jey was on his knees in the middle of it all, his hands coated in her blood.

He rocked slightly, his grip tightening around Nyeya’s limp body as he pressed his forehead against hers. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving with each uneven inhale, but his voice was clear—desperate, commanding.

“Stay with me, baby. You hear me? Stay with me.”

Her head lolled slightly, her skin look lifeless under the flashing red lights. Jey shook her gently, his grip firm but careful, as if he could anchor her here with him.

Damian was beside him, his face unreadable but his hands steady as they helped apply pressure to the wound in her side. His jaw was clenched tight, his usual detachment gone.

“She’s losing too much blood,” he muttered. His voice was sharp, urgent, the kind of voice that didn’t deal in hope, only facts.

Jey barely heard him. His eyes never left her.

“Nyeya, you hold on. You ain’t done. You ain’t done, you hear me?” His voice cracked, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t above begging. Not for her.

Somewhere behind them, Kiyah was sobbing, held back by Jacob as she tried to push forward. Natasha and Nataya were both crying, their hands clasped together, whispering prayers between broken sobs.

The paramedics arrived, pushing Jey aside despite his resistance. He fought against the hands pulling him away, his body lunging forward, but Damian gripped the back of his shirt and yanked him back.

“Let them work, bro.”

Jey’s heart hammered against his ribcage as he watched them lift Nyeya onto a stretcher, voices barking out orders, someone checking her pulse, someone pressing a mask to her face.

When they moved to close the doors, Jey snapped out of his daze.

“I’m ridin’ with her,” he announced.

The paramedic hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Get in.”

Jey climbed into the ambulance without a second thought, sitting beside her, his fingers gripping the edge of the gurney like he could hold her here.

The ambulance doors slammed shut, and the sirens wailed as they sped off.

Behind them, the others didn’t wait.

Jimmy and Damian jumped into their cars, peeling off in pursuit. Kiyah, Natasha, and Nataya piled into Jacob’s car. Sami followed close behind.

No one spoke.

The only sound was the hum of engines pushing toward the unknown.

Toward whatever fate waited for Nyeya.

Jey didn’t pray. He never had.

But tonight, in that ambulance, as he clutched Nyeya’s cold fingers and watched the heart monitor beep too slowly for his liking—he prayed.

And he wasn’t sure if anyone was listening.

The city blurred past in streaks of neon and darkness, and all Jey could do was hold on.

To her.

To hope.

And to the fear that, for the first time in his life, he might be powerless to stop what was coming.

-----

AN: This is the end, bebe's. Whew... I'm trying not to cry! This book has been so fun to write and it's the first story I've completed... ever. When I started this book I always knew the ending would end like this. But what I didn't know was how in love I would fall with these characters. This may not be the end. I'm debating on it. I think these characters have so much left to do and learn. What you think?

And to the readers who been reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting, I APPRECIATE YOU! Thank you so much. All the love truly gave me the motivation to keep writing. I love you ꨄ

-----

Want to read from the beginning? Click Here

If you wanna join the taglist for this story, just let me know! Taglist: @theusotwinzcom @nbanenefrmdao @queeny23 @punksyeet @partypoison00 @justazzi @southernpree @tian-monique

[phoenixortheflame]

Bound: Recursion (2nd edition) by @tessacrowley

Typeset and bound by: me, @phoenixortheflame.

Featuring art by: @itsphantasmagoria

A process is recursive when it defines or contains itself; e.g., the Fibonacci sequence, which determines the next number as the sum of the previous two. But not all recursive processes are mathematical. Recursion can happen in a temporal context when, for instance, the powerful magical force that is true love drags you back in time so it can create itself, endangering the fate of the Wizarding World—not to mention the very fabric of space and time—along the way.

Having an opportunity to rebind something I bound early on in my journey is one of my favourite things. Which is why I was so thrilled when luciddream_bindings agreed to swap a copy of her signature Sleeves Will Go Ragged bind for a copy of Recursion.

It's so cool to see how far I've come in my craft - and to have the opportunity to make different design updates and upgrades to further elevate the bind.

A few notable updates and/or upgrades:

Moved the typeset over to Affinity Publisher from Word. Bye bye, Word, you worthless piece of trash!

Added drop caps, dingbat scene breaks, and multiple handwriting fonts to the typeset.

Full-bleed images! Yay for printers that print full-bleed!

Cheeky barcode on the dust jacket.

Guillotined edges (surprise! they're not straight at all!)

Hand-sewn endbands.

Hand-marbled end papers from The Paper Place.

Now, the bind is far from perfect (see number 5 above). I'm really struggling with my text blocks lately. They don't want to lay flat - and I can never seem to case them nicely anymore. Still, I'm pretty proud of this one, because it really does showcase how I've improved - and more importantly how much I've continued to challenge myself.

I hope you like the bind, lucid!

[starflungwaddledee]

💋, 💭 and 🎶 with Metastruck for the ask game!!? 👀

>>> kirby ship ask game here જ⁀➴ ♡!

21. 💋 What was their first kiss like? Who initiated it and how did it happen?

in general within my headcanons, Popstarians kiss and hug and show physical affection a lot! forehead touches and pressing faces together is, in many cases, equally as important as an actual kiss. as a greeting, for healing/sharing, and in some cases even to share memories or feelings that are otherwise hard to communicate. it's all very everyday and platonic and nobody is thinking much of it!

starstruck probably plapped a friendly kiss on meta knight pretty early on, maybe after a training session. he didn't think anything of it. he probably gave her a quick one back to share with her after she took a tumble on an adventure one time, just because he was closest. he didn't think anything of that, either.

the first kiss that stood out to meta knight hasn't actually happened in their timeline yet. but it would be initiated by him, and it would be an accident!

the stars were nice but the sun's coming up and he has to get to patrol, as he's always done. and she has to at least pretend to sleep in her own bed before bandee gets there, as she's always done. so they're parting ways at the bottom of the astronomy tower stairs, as they always do. she waves and bumps her cheek to his cheek, as she always does, and he nods and turns away to start the climb, as he always does. but then for some stupid reason with one foot on the stairs he looks back (which he's never done), and she's waiting there watching him (which he doesn't know if she usually does or not because he's never looked back before??? does she always do that??), and a footstep or two is abruptly slightly more distance than he can bear.

so he takes her hand, and he pulls her back in.

and she thinks nothing of it. not really; though she's grateful he's been much more friendly lately! but meta knight runs back upstairs and sits in his room absolutely panicking and going through it for the next 70 hours or so because oh no and also what the fuck.

11. 💭 Do they have a favorite memory involving their partner? If yes, then why is it such a special memory for them?

if they ever get to do it, it would almost certainly be the skyfall, for meta knight, and probably also for starstruck.

as it stands, she'd have delightful memories of any time he takes her flying or stargazing! his fondest currently probably include the others (kirby, bandee, king dedede) as well, rather than just starstruck. he's so stubborn about it, but his most important moments are always those spent with his loved ones.

13. 🎶 Do you associate any songs with this ship? If yes, why do you associate the song with them?

soooo many actually. my god 😂 could make a whole playlist of soggy songs just for these two, i think.

for the purposes of this ask in particular i'm going to go with Landmines by BELLSAINT, which is from meta knight's POV. this one suits the romantic theme in particular, and in fact i already have an upcoming shipaganza art piece for them drawn to it!

[cyanbugremix]

Cyanbug's Redacted Audio Headcanons

(Some of these I might use/did use in fics, but others are just there)

1. Huxley had a bunny growing up. It was potty-trained and very curious about all the flowers his moms' and him would bring into the house. They had to keep the lilies locked away in a different room, to make sure the bunny didn't eat any of them.

2. Babe got a stick and poke tattoo of an outline of a wolf on the lower part of their thigh, as a teen. It wasn't the best, and it's pretty much faded now, but they remember how upset their mom was about it when she found out. They forgot that they couldn't wear shorts or else she'd see.

3. Babe also used to go explore abandoned buildings when they were younger. They mostly went to this one building that used to be an old gristmill, but stopped going there when the roof collapsed after a bad storm. They did it to escape to a place where it was quiet, but sometimes they'd bring a friend along to go exploring. They have a bunch of printed photos from exploring.

4. Asher likes to joke with Darlin' that they should serenade Sam by playing "Your Man" by Josh Turner. (baby lock them doors and turn the lights down low-)

5. Smartass was in love with horses as a kid, and would ask for a horse/pony every birthday growing up (they never got one). But they used to collect horse figurines, and still have them in a box somewhere.

6. Asset's favorite board game as a kid was "Chutes and Ladders".

7. For a year or two, David was a social toddler, but at the end of preschool he started to get really shy (nobody really knew why). The only time he seemed to open up was when Asher was around, but was never as social as he once was.

8. Christian likes to go zip-lining and he and Amanda once went on a date to one of those zip-lining and ropes courses.

9. Amanda had braces as a kid, and in her early teens, but she got them off before she headed into high school. She preferred getting neon pink rubber bands.

10. Sam got the chicken pox as a kid (his Grandma mostly took care of him for that week or so when he was sick), and one of the first good things he realized after he got turned into a vampire was that at least he wouldn't have to worry about shingles (or vaccines in general) anymore.

11. Hush doesn't really care for cheese, but whenever Doc gets something that has gooey cheese, they'll let him do the first cheese pull since he likes seeing how far he can get it to stretch. So far he's managed 16 inches with cheesy bread sticks.

12. Aaron likes Neo-Expressionism art.

13. DAVID AND ANGEL GET A CAT. They originally were going to get one after their honeymoon, but then that didn't happen because life got busy again. David thought getting them a cat might be a good [insert holiday] gift, and the two of them could go pick out one at the humane society. But then one day David found a kitten on the street as he was walking by with Milo. The kitten just waddled right up to the two of them and actually seemed to like David. So he takes it home, especially because if Milo were to take it, Aggro would have a problem sharing his people (someone made a headcanon of that awhile ago and I AGREE. Aggro doesn't like to share. He wants to be the one and only best boy. I'll have to find it later. Shout out to whoever thought of it.) And voila. They have a cute little kitten now and are cat parents :D (I have a draft of this storyline, i just haven't finished it)

14. Treasure is really into bats and has been since they were a kid. Their family would always buy them bat stuff as a kid and into adulthood, so they have a lot bat themed things. They also have an old 3rd-grade informative essay, explaining different types of bats, hidden away in a folder. They wanted to be a zookeeper as a kid, specifically so they could take care of the fruit bat exhibit. Porter thought it was ironically funny when he first was invited to their home and the amount of things related to bats (and in correlation, vampires) that they owned.

15. Lovely plays the Sims A LOT (they like to build houses or other buildings the most).

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek...

Well, hello, you! Were you wondering what fanworks were posted on this day in the Ao3 Schitt's Creek tag? Were you looking to read some older fics you missed or perhaps re-read an old favorite? Well, look no further! Each day, I will post all the fics that were posted Ao3 on that date from 2017 to 2024! Give some of them a read and show the authors some love! At the end of each month, I also plan to post some stats about the fics posted in that month.

Multi-chaptered works or unfinished WIPs will be posted on the date they were last updated. All fanworks included in the tag for that date will be included in the post.

2020

Designated Grape [david/patrick, M, 1,097] by bellalafrella

This is my idea of what went down on that car ride back to the motel after Patrick came to get his drunk fiancé from Herb's fruit winery.

Filling in the Blanks [stevie & patrick, M, 4,493] by Aelia_Gioia

A series of random text conversations that fill in some blank spaces.

In Moira Rosé Veritas [david/patrick, T, 2,283] by Aelia_Gioia

After David and Moira sample all the fruit wine, after Johnny and Patrick have a heart to heart, it all culminates in Room 6.

More under the cut!

Morning Rosé [david/patrick, T, 532] by whetherwoman

Somewhere Near [david/patrick, T, 20,777] by alldaydream

Patrick Brewer suffers from amnesia that has erased six months of his life, forcing him to move back home with his parents. No one knows about the life he spent in Elmdale, so he goes chasing after his lost memories there only to end up in Schitt's Creek instead, taken by the handsome owner of the general store he's supposedly never met before. Before 4x07 The Barbecue

sustineo [david/patrick, E, 10,056] by @rockinhamburger

The bad thing about being a world-famous contemporary artist is… actually, there are many bad things. The clout-chasers and users. The frenzied hoards of tabloid “reporters” and paparazzi vultures. The pressure from interviewers, curators, collectors, and art critics to pigeon-hole himself, or, at the very least, be consistent enough for them to do it for him. The neverending demands that he ascribe an approved meaning to his art. The elitist club at the very top of the art world pyramid, which David has never been a member of, what with his postmodern, mixed-media, performance piece style of art that in equal parts seems to shock and disgust and enthrall. Or, an alternate universe where David is a famous, reclusive modern contemporary artist and Patrick is the art critic who is interviewing him about his new exhibition.

Synchronicity [david/patrick, T, 2,966] by @landofsonlali

david and patrick have a conversation after leaving jake's apartment.

2021

[art] The Roses Reunited [david/patrick, NR, art] by @frizzlenox

The Rose family poses for a portrait at the Emmys when Moira is nominated for Sunrise Bay.

Assistant Direction [stevie & moira, T, 2,378] by bigficenergy

Stevie's lazy morning with Ruth is interrupted by repeated phone calls from Moira, who is nervous about her first day of filming the Sunrise Bay reboot and simply must talk to Stevie.

China [gen, G, 300] by Rosey_Peach

Come Away with Me [david/patrick, M, 6,034] by @flowerfan2

There’s a beauty to David that’s hard to define in words. Patrick prefers to tell him with long, slow kisses and the kind of gentle, drawn-out love-making that gets David to drop his defenses. He had sort of hoped that this weekend would lend itself to a night like that, alone in a fancy hotel in the L.A. he had imagined. It’s a lot less likely to happen in their subpar Airbnb. David and Patrick take a trip to L.A. for the Sunrise Bay premiere. It isn’t exactly what Patrick expected.

Free Marcy Hugs [david/patrick, G, 803] by @goodiecornbread

Marcy Brewer is a hugger. So she puts her mom hugs to good use. TW for implied homophobia/transphobia, but no phobic or harmful language is used.

kiss away the pain [david/patrick, T, 1,008] by @lastchancecafe13

“I can’t say that was something I would have ever wanted to see. I know you’ve told me stories but hearing and having it laid out in front of me like that. And he stood there with that smirk on his face--” Patrick's voice trailed off as he pressed a kiss to David’s lips. Patrick's thumbs traced the tear tracks down David's cheeks. He wiped them away before continuing, "I can’t believe after all that that you’re here and you’re so good David. After all that that you were willing to open your heart to me--" Tumblr kiss prompt #39 kissing the tears from someone else's face

Leaning on Somebody Isn't Easy [david/patrick, G, 2,976] by lucianowriter

A Continuation of “Hate To Say That I Miss You.” It’s been three weeks since the phone call and David finds himself single and at a bar where Patrick is. A conversation happens. Will they get back together or is there too much baggage? Based off Ben Platt’s Temporary Love

The Diamond and the Duke [david/patrick, E, 4,005] by asoftplacetoland

Patrick plans a very special roleplay for David for Valentine's Day based on his latest television obsession.

Mine Own Weak Moments [stevie & moira, 6, 3,644] by @treepyful

When her phone buzzed with a silent call for the third time in eight minutes, Stevie debated throwing it out her open window.

The Moira Rose Story [johnny/moira, G, art] by WrathoftheStag

It's the poster for the upcoming, and highly anticipated, Interflix movie The Moira Rose Story.

this is my confession [david/patrick, T, 791] by @blackandwhiteandrose

Patrick finds a way to tell David the things he wants to say before David is ready to hear them.

2022

About a Boy [david/patrick, T, 13,507, CW: MCD] by the_same_but_different

"How about mac and cheese?” “I’m very uninterested in that option.” “RJ.” “Patrick, I’m sorry, but these lunch selections you’re offering me are just…” “Incorrect?” “You said it, not me.” Patrick’s relationship with Roland Moira Schitt Jr over the years. (With bonus audio commentary from David Rose.)

Make a Wish [david/patrick, T, 1,330] by @goodiecornbread

After having a birthday lunch with Stevie, David planned on sitting alone at the motel, smoking weed and eating cake. Then Patrick offers to join him.

2023

Itty Bitty Living Space [david & alexis, NR, 100] by mallpretzles

David is at his wit’s end with sharing 300 sq feet with Alexis.

Wallpaper Whispers [david/patrick, G, 100] by @legalgal421

Patrick takes one last look at his room at Ray’s.

2024

Easy [david/patrick, G, 1,154] by obsessedwithdavrick

David loves his husband and enjoys his Sunday sleep-in. Patrick loves to spoil David. They both are taking time to enjoy their slow time together.

Making Everything Okay [david/patrick, T, 1,064] by obsessedwithdavrick

After many years of marriage, Patrick could pretend to be okay as much as he wanted. But David knew when his husband wasn't okay, and sometimes he just had to be the one to take charge.

oh honey, you can have me when you want me [david/patrick, E, 2,990] by stereopticons

“Such a good little slut.” He gives Patrick's ass a light slap. “So here's what I'm thinking. I think that you put on that dirty little sweatshirt because you wanted me to bend you over this table and fuck you, isn't that right?” David accidentally buys Patrick a joke hoodie. Patrick wears it, to great effect.

Rosewood [david/patrick, M, 40,050] by @beaiola

Inspired by Jane Austen's Mansfield Park. Patrick and David have been friends for years, their bond deep and undeniable, and there's no one whose opinion David values more. So when a new family moves into the neighbourhood, it's only natural that David should turn to his oldest friend for his advice and support as he tries to work out what this could mean for him and his future. Patrick, on the other hand, isn't as instantly taken with Sebastien and Klair Raine but David's sure when they all get to know each other things will be different. But there's no way he could forsee the impact the Raine siblings will have on the residents of Rosewood.

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017, 2018, or 2019 2020: 7 fics/39,238 words 2021: 11 fanworks (9 fics, 2 fanart)/22,254 words 2022: 2 fics/14,837 words 2023: 2 fics/200 words 2024: 4 fics/45,258 words Total: 26 fanworks (24 fics, 2 fanart)/121,787 words

[aakaneeee]

ALNST: WHAT'S NEXT, MY PREDICTIONS, MY IDEAS.

(art by me)

We know technically nothing about what will follow, except that one of our contestants is becoming the human he never got to be, and the other is completely losing the humanity that made her, her.

But, I've had this idea of a frame that we could see, and I couldn't stop myself!

I feel like there will be a break in-universe between Wiege and what is next. I mean, Luka will probably need some medical procedures done, because I cannot imagine him being able to move on without his health suffering. Which makes me even more upset, because what if Heperu will see it as "disobeying", and punish him in the way only he knows?

I see him becoming a lot more human after Wiege, as I've said. I don't think he'll really want to do what Hyuna told him: I don't even see him wanting to live after this. I've had a small idea of him trying repeatedly to commit, but being "saved" by Heperu, but again, I have no basis, so these are just assumptions. It wouldn't be far off of Vivinos' alley, that's for sure.

I'd love for him and Mizi to team up, but honestly, I'm extremely 50/50 on whether it would happen or not. I have 2 ideas: either they do team up, somehow manage to get along, which would make sense for the "mizi loses everyone she loves" trope (if Luka would simply die without her caring, it wouldn't make so much sense for him to be the only one left with her), and possibly dies in an accident (I tend to believe in the "Mizi will blow everything up" theory, according to the Patreon post from while back), or because of his illnesses, or they don't team up, Round 5 is redone, and it's Mizi's time to mock him (which im not sure if she'll have the energy for).

I am hoping for the first one though, because I want Luka shown in a good light before he isn't alive anymore.

Another theory that I had, but it's not very likely, is that they don't end up killing Luka off because let's be honest, he'd be doing worse alive than dead. Again, it probably won't happen, but I think it would be a really painful route to take, to show that the worst possible outcome, at this point, isn't even death.

The thing is, I don't think we have to worry about Luka's death too soon. I am not sure about the probability of the others coming back. I'd rather be pleasantly surprised if it happens, than be disappointed if they are truly gone. So, if they don't come back, we'd have about 4, 5 episodes with the 2 characters left, so I don't think they can afford to kill him off yet. (Considering Round 6 was approximately the half of the series, and the Vol. 1 album's number of songs, that's the amount I calculated we'd have left.)

Honestly, this is the factor that makes me doubt most of my own theories: I don't know how they would be able make any of these possibilities that long.

Which brings in the idea we might have some videos about the Actor AU, or Modern AU? I don't really believe this, but it would be interesting. Anyways, whatever they have planned for these next episodes, is going to be huge.

I really liked the structure of Wiege: openly centered on Hyuluka, but shows the other pairs multiple times (which, again, ties to my analysis of Hyuluka representing all of them, from before and from what will follow.)

I think it's more plausible we'll get flashbacks from Season 49, like Hyuna's loss and how she went past the system, or Luka's absolute win and how he reacted. Anyways, I'd love to see more of them, since they are still very mysterious (but I'd say they are more known than Sua now).

I personally want to see the exact details of Hyunwoo's death. It's been insanely hyped, in my opinion, we see clips of it both in All-In and Wiege (I'd like to add how fond I am of the fact that both episodes that have Hyuna as center don't have a 'Round' name), but never outwardly shown, so it must be a pretty big plot twist, or revelation. I'm still a believer of the "Hyuna killed Hyunwoo" theory, albeit a bit more reserved now, but we do have that frame in Wiege where Luka is crying, clinging onto Hyuna, and Hyunwoo trying to break them apart. (I love the small showcase of his humanity.)

I might have more to say, so I will probably add onto this if I do, but for now, I can only say I cannot wait, and that I'm terrified for this week's ALNST friday.. I actually tried my best to finish this way before the ALNST friday, so I could say what I have to say completely blinded, and I'm excited to see what of this will be valid in the end :)