#digger is helping take the toll

[timethehobo]

//Aggressively squeezes him for stress relief.

[spidybaby]

Gold Digger | Part Two

Summary: A broken plate can't be fixed.

Warnings: cursing.

A/N: hello, it's been a long time, but here it is. I want to apologize for the wait, I was sick and ended up at the hospital, but now I'm good. Thank you all ❤️✨️

Part one | Part Three

It's been a week since the whole incident. In that time, Kylian was blowing up your phone with calls and texts. He even tried to talk in person, but Ethan and Fayza weren't having it.

You were thankful with both Ethan and Fayza. They made sure you were okay. The night you left Kylians house, his mother was the shoulder you cried onto.

She was so embarrassed for his actions. Ethan even called him to berate his actions.

They loved you as family. For them, you didn't need a paper or a ring to become part of their family, your loyalty and unconditional love for the whole family was enough.

You planned on leaving Fayzas house and going to a friend's house, but she refused. Insisted on you staying for a little more.

But at the same time, the fact that you couldn't really mourn the feelings was taking a toll on you. So you explained that and your best friend and you became roommates.

Kylian wasn't at his best either. He fought with his father. But also blame himself for being so naive, believing things he knew you would never do.

He missed two games, faking being sick. Missed a whole week of training. Until Sergio and Achraf went to his house to check on him.

When he explained the whole situation to them. Sergio slapped him, and Achraf almost did the same but control a little more.

"You're so stupid," Sergio says angrily. "Es que, si sabes que ella no lo haría por que no la defendiste? Kylian, what the hell?" (It's just, if you know she wouldn't, why didn't you defend her?)

"Okay, time out." Achraf says, pushing Sergio away from him. "Go get something to drink, calm down."

Sergio did that. He was so mad at his friend.

To sergio, you were like a little sister, always helping him and Pilar with everything you can. Even Achraf held you to a big standard.

You were that person who's always looking for everyone and trying to help as much as you can without expecting anything in return.

"Bro. Look, I'm not judging, but why did you do that?"

"I'm so stupid Haki, I'm so fucking stupid."

"You fucking are" Sergio yells outside the room.

"My gosh, fucking kids. It's what you are." Achraf says, hands caressing his forehead. "My child is more mature than you, and he's not even five years old."

"Tell me what can I do?" Kylian cry out. "I don't want to lose her."

His friends didn't even know how to help him.

"Take this, you look like the shit you say you're." Sergio hands him some water.

"Sergio." Achraf growled. "Stop it, we both know he fucked up, he knows it, his mother, brother, and whole family knows it. Stop it."

"Hey, that's mean." Kylian says, finishing the water Sergio brought him.

"But the truth, asshole."

"Enough, I feel like I'm with my kids. If I wanted to fight, I would've called my ex-wife." Achraf says frustrated.

"Mira Kyky, I'm going to be honest with you, I don't know if you can get her to forgive you. Maybe some therapy, maybe some expensive ass gift, but you already know that's not her." Sergio sighs. "What you need to do is let her breath, take her time to cool down, as much as you think you can't fix everything. This is not a match. This is your life. So what I recommend is for you to let her have her time. Text her saying that you'll wait as much as you have to, for her to be able to listen to you. And then apologize, man, because that shit was terrible. Pilar me hubiera cortado los"

"We got the point, Sergio, thank you." Achraf interrupts. "But he's right. She needs space. This shit is fresh. You also need to think what you're going to say. Apologizing is not enough. But don't make excuses. That's not cute."

And that's exactly what Kylian did. He texted you saying that he was going to stop with the text messages and the calls. He was giving you the space you need. And it was up to you to decide how much time you need for him to be able to see you again.

You never answered, but you did read the text. Thankful for his decision.

When Kylian texted you that as much time as you needed, he meant it.

What he never expected was for you to take a whole two months. And counting.

His mother and brother were in talking terms with him. It wasn't easy, but he apologized with them too.

Now, his father was another story. Wilfrid tried everything to reach him. Nothing.

Kylian understood that it was his fault. But, he didn't feel comfortable with having a talk with him.

On the other side of the city, you were closing a very hard finals week. The last finals of your whole college career.

"So, now that we finished with everything." Your friend says. "Are you going to text him?"

You told her that as soon as your finals ended, you were reaching Kylian. Two months in her head were enough of a punishment for him.

Not for you. You want him to understand that what he did was something you were not okay with.

You could take his father disliking you. But you can't take the lies and accusations. You weren't a thief.

You can tell how many times you denied your boyfriend to pay for things for you. Dinners, vacations, even your college debt.

You also were the one in charge of his whole financial situation. You knew how much he earned in a month. You helped him with the payments and saving.

So, for him to even believe you were in possession of his cards was crazy. Even after you made the calls to block every single one of them. Making sure there wasn't any new charge.

"I don't know." You say. "I'm not sure if I feel ready."

"Well, you know you can always count on me. But if you ask me, it's been enough."

After that, you both said goodbye to each other.

You were walking back to your new place. It was close to your college and it was pretty.

Just when you were about to get there, you smelled the fresh coffee aroma, coming from a small coffee shop you loved.

"Well, I deserve it."

And you did, after the amount of deprived sleep and hard study sessions you went through.

You order your usual to go. Wanting to go home and relax.

"Y/n?" Someone calls you from behind.

You knew who it was. You even thought that acting as if you didn't hear was the best, but when he repeated your name, you couldn't.

"Hi," you say.

You felt lucky when, after that little, "Hi" the girl called your name and handed you your order.

"I have to go." You say getting out quickly.

"Can we talk? Please". He asks following you outside.

You wanted to be nice, you do. But you can't do it. His words, his accusations, everything is replaying in your mind.

"If I'm not even giving that benefit to your son, why would I do that for you?"

"Just let me apologize."

"I don't need your apology, sir."

"One minute."

You stare at him. You didn't want it. But at least after this he was going to stop.

"One minute, after I'm leaving." You say watching the time on your watch.

"I'm sorry for the accusations, for telling you those awful words and treated you like a thief and someone you're not. I'm sorry for ruining the best thing Kylian ever had. But you had to understand me. He's Kylian Mbappé and everything he has worked so hard for it's been also my and Fayzas work."

You scuff.

"Of course." You say laughing. "He's Kylian Mbappé and I'm just a broke college student who was ready to take all his money, right?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh, you didn't?" You ask sarcastically. "So let's see, if all his hard work is also Fayza and yours. Why does she trust me? Why can she see me for more than just my school debts? Why can she see me as someone who loves your son and not his net worth?"

"I worded this wrong."

"No, you didn't. And even if you want to fix it," you say, quoting the last two words. "Your time ran out. Please don't bother me again, I'm done with this situation for good."

You walked to your apartment, mad at everything. At him, at Kylian, at yourself. Even when you didn't even have a reason to be mad at yourself.

Without thinking you texted Kylian.

"Let's meet up at your house in an hour."

It was not the smartest thing to do, but the rage inside wasn't helping much.

You ask for an Uber due to the time all the cabs were busy. Plus, his house was a good forty-five minutes from where you live.

You knock on his door.

Even when you have your own key, this wasn't your home anymore. This was his.

"Hey," he says happily, opening the door for you to get inside. "It's kind of chill for just that cardigan."

You ignore him. Walking to the living room. The house feels different. The home you used to love is now just a place.

You feel like crying. It's like having an intense flashback.

"Can we talk?" He asked.

You nod, blinking the tears away.

"Yes, go ahead."

"Don't you want to sit?" He asks, confused. Your posture is like a rock. Hard and not easy to break.

"No, go ahead."

"Okay." He clears his throat. "I have to apologize. I know I fucked up. I was so wrong for not saying anything to defend you. I just want you to know that I don't believe any of that, never did, never will."

You interrupted his speech by laughing. "You don't? Then why did you let your father belittle me in that way?"

Your question take him by surprise. He wasn't expecting this.

"Well."

"No, I'll tell you why." You interrupted him again. "You're so up your ass, Kylian. You don't have an idea of what the real world is like anymore. You've been so glorified by everyone. Specifically your father."

The way his eyes are about to pop out of his head.

"And I'm so mad at you." You laugh again, trying to calm yourself down. "I've been the one who denied your offer to pay my whole debt, I was the one who helped you with money, with savings, with payments. I was the one who turned your additional cards when you offered them to me. Because I wasn't here for the money, I was here for you. I was here because I love you. Because I saw myself staring a family with you. I saw myself growing old with you."

"Let's just pause." He says breathless, even when he's not the one speaking.

"No, I'm not pausing."

"Okay, just, please let me finish."

"Save your apologies." You say.

"Amour. Y/n. Wait, I need."

"I needed you." You interrupted again. "I needed you to defend me. I needed you to say something, and not doubt me. I needed you, Kylian. And you failed me."

The burning sensation was consuming you.

"Please, we can go to therapy." He tries.

"Kylian, don't you get it?" You ask. "Even if I say yes. What's next? You stop talking to your dad for good? That's not what I want. Do you really think I can come back here? I can hear his words in my head, I blink and see him accusing me of stealing from you, and I see you taking his side, even when you didn't believe it."

"We can sell the house," he grabs your face. "I can have a new property tomorrow morning. Better, pick one, the one you want, as big as you want, as expensive as you want. But please, don't give up on me."

His eyes are shining with tears.

A part of you is saying, "forgive him," but the rational part of you is throwing that option out of your head.

"It's not about that, Kylian."

"Then what do you want? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. Everything." He cries.

You shake your head. Tears rolling down.

"I want you to let me go."

"No. Everything but that."

"Let me go, Kylian." You take his hands off your face. "I can't do this."

He hugs you, crying on your shoulder.

"Please don't go. You're my everything."

You only caress his back. Letting him cry.

He keeps begging, and with every word, with every sob, every tear you feel yourself breaking more.

"Kylian. Please let me go."

He hugs you tighter. "Please, no."

"Baby, please."

You can feel him tense because of the nickname. He let go enough for him to be face to face again.

"Tell me you don't love me anymore, and I'll let you go."

You shake your head. You can't.

"Don't do this to me."

"Tell me, look at me in the eyes and tell me."

"Let me go." You repeat. "Please."

"You can't say it because you love me. And I love you. We can get over this. I promise even if I have to spend my whole life apologizing, even if I have to tell you every day, how important you're for me."

"Stop, please." You cry. "We can't. I can't. I need time kylian. You say everything, I need time."

"How much?"

"I don't know, but I need it. I can't just forget and swipe this under the rug like it's nothing. We can't build each other again if we're both broken." You say holding his face. "You promised me years ago that you would never doubt me. And here we are, so I need you to give me space. Let me heal and heal yourself in the process. Make up with your family, go to therapy. And then we can go back."

His eyes were burning, and the tears fell like cascades.

"Can you promise me that you will be back to me?" He asks

You didn't have an answer because time and life were unsure. Life can change in a moment, just when you less expect it.

"I promise you that I'll work on healing. I promise you that if you need me I'll be here. I'll be your biggest cheerleader from afar. But I can't do it alone, you have to make your part."

He hugs you again.

It wasn't a goodbye.

But it hurt like it was.

He let go of you. Looks you from head to toe. It's like if he's taking a mental photo of you.

You pick your purse from the floor. Walking to the front door.

"Y/n" he calls.

You turn around.

"I love you."

"I love you too." You smile at him, closing the door.

Tag list:

@slayweirdosaway @voguebikini @ironmaiden1313 @magicalfundragon @nightlockcornucopia @christianpulisic10 @bellinghambby22 @noodle81937 @moonlightholland22 @germanapples @paniwiaderko

[kaiga555]

Some drawings of slugcats.

Slug cat oc's:

The pearl keeper aka keeper. They can spit up pearls when swallowing something like a rock or bomb (food and neurons don't count) or they can spit pearls up with nothing but that causes a food pip. Their mission is to go to any near by iterator cans and give them a pearl they made themselves, with a code scratched into it by keeper them self, asking for help for their iterator (iterator oc who I haven't finished drawing). They has a surprisingly low scavenger rep. Despite their frail form they are quite strong, giving spears 2 damage, rocks 1.5 damage and pearls .8 damage. Yes they can throw pearls like rocks. They are carnivorous. Their original purpose before their maker shut down was to make pearls for them when they couldn't hold anymore info on any of their other pearls.

The mappers aka Sprinter and digger. Sprinter is extremely fast. faster then rivulet when running but sucks at swimming. He is smaller then digger and stands on his hind legs to appear taller. He is chaotic.

Digger is a great swimmer but much slower and timid. Most of the time their on look out due to their keen senses. They can enter any den, or pipe (unable to drag sprinter with) and can dig a short while to get away from predators (takes food pips to do).

Their tail can split making it easier to run away from things. They will slowly die if apart for to long. Sprinter can pass a scav toll without pay, while digger can't. Digger won't get attacked by lizards (-salamanders) but is still terrified of them.

[whinecrate]

13.9.23

Reasons why I'd be a difficult person to marry:

1. Idw kids ever. Def not my own cuz pregnancy childbirth not my cup of tea too exhausting and painful and takes too much of a toll on your body even in the best case scenarios. And don't want babies or toddler or teenagers or even adult kids really tho beyond an age they're easier to look after. Adoption is too complicated. Expensive. People have opinions on how they should be raised. Subject to change tho but that should be my decision.

2. Not gonna be Christian enough for the Christians and too Christian for the non Christians.

3. Wanna live separate from parents just the two of us. Larger families more drama and resentment. And fitting into the guys family isn't what I want. There would be no freedom in that and too much criticism. I want my own family.

4. Idk how I'd manage my priorities with Amma and sa. Cuz id need to look after them. Whoever i marry has to be fine with that. More than fine with that.

5. Complicated mess of a family that they should be fine with. I'm not asking them to like them because Idl them either. But they should be fine with the fact that I'm related to them.

6. Except Amma and sa. He needs to like them atleast to some extent. And they need to like him too or approve of him for me.

7. Extends to his family too. Doesn't have to be perfect but there needs to be some support someone to turn to for help etc cuz atleast one side of our family should have safety nets support network etc

8. Wanna have separate rooms and separate finances..? Maybe..?

9. Not completely mallu not completely anything else either

25.12.23

10. No dowry ig?

11. Financial situation. Cuz I'm not well off enough and idk how feasible it is to survive with someone else at the same financial status. But marrying above hurts my pride I'm probably pretty insecure about it and i would hate hate hate to be thought of as a gold digger or for anyone anywhere to think I'm marrying them purely for the money. And difference in financial situation implies difference in lifestyles and if they're too used to it and can't live down if necessary idt i can accept them for it.

10.4.24

12. No wedding fuck that

[dasher85]

featuring our Inexpressible duo

Kamisato Ayato X Reader | you | y/n

Little happenings (before Part 6) 

[’Surely, food is even beyond me. Nobody can compete against that.’

A note, written in Ayato’s notebook. ]

A snippet:

You looked at it for a moment but tried it anyways. Dipping it into the perfect mixture of soy sauce. "Taste... like?" you take another bite of it while thinking of a perfect word to describe it. "Me" "It's like..." you heard him quite well but decide to completely ignore it. "No matter, it's delicious" you nodded, agreeing to your own opinion. "You've been ignoring me, aren't you?" You kept on eating, carefully savoring the taste of the freshly prepared sushi. "Ohh... I've never try this one before" you excitedly exclaimed with a smile. "Take some of mine, if you'd like?" You carefully eat the sushi and only replied after you finished eating the ones on your portion. You didn’t even spare a glance over the food he recommended to you.

"That's the sticky girl, Miss talkative and, hmm" You pointed each pieces of different letters, reading each name and casually give personal naming based on how you think their personality, in one glance. Until the last one appeared. "money... no, it's" You tried to bring up a word but forgotten what was the exact term for it, a deep frown appeared on your face. Your index finger tapping on the piece of letter. "what is it this time?" He sighed, thinking you shouldn't be taking it too seriously. "Ah, the gold digger!" you exclaimed, once again pointing to the name written on the envelope. "How about you? How would you label yourself?" He finally placed down the quill pen, focusing on you. An amused grin was slowly appearing on his lips. "This isn't about me" you quickly stacked the envelope of letters neatly back to its previous place. "and certainly I have no time to answer such questions. Now that I've helped you, just choose one already." Such questions didn't bother you at all. Perhaps hunger was already taking its toll over your patience. It was two hour past afternoon and yet the person who has personally asked you to assist him has yet to finish writing a reply for the letters. Some were important and yet some were from nobles that was interested about engagements. "Just answer that one question and then we'll eat lunch" A scheming look was obviously displayed on his usually calm face. You intently looked at him, as the side of your head rests at the edge of your knuckles, eagerly trying to read him. "I'm a nobody... Right, I've answered it" you quickly stood up and walked out from his office with a victorious grin. It seems like he was still talking about something but you legit ignored it and was too quick to be stopped. Once you were already outside, he too has miraculously managed to catch up behind you. He was talking all the way to the dining room. Although you knew he was talking, you weren't even listening to whatever words he was saying. It was as if you couldn't understand what he was saying, your auto brain translation have long stopped working. Yes, you specifically learned Inazuman language but perhaps having lunch later than usual was the reason. 'Rice, miso soup, onigiri... I hope sushi is there??' your lists of preferred food goes on... If people have sleep deprived then you were probably having hunger issue. You sat down and pour a cup of tea. Diligently have a sip of the tea, as you wait for the house head to properly sat himself. Somehow you still has the conscious that it's improper to just start eating by yourself. He sat opposite to you, suddenly looking overly concerned. You just smiled at him, unable to even notice the difference in his face expression. Your thoughts have never left, thinking about the food on the table. Eventually he gestures to take whichever food you'd prefer to eat from which you gladly take it. One could obviously notice the rare sparkles on your eyes. Ayato silently eat his portions of food while observing your little expression over each food you've eaten. A gentle smile on his lips, seemingly enjoying the moment. "What's this?" You've been curious about this particular green servings for a while but finally decided to ask about it. "Umi budo, sea grapes just a different seaweed version" You looked at it for a moment but tried it anyways. Dipping it into the perfect mixture of soy sauce. "Taste... like?" you take another bite of it while thinking of a perfect word to describe it. "Me" "It's like..." you heard him quite well but decide to completely ignore it. "No matter, it's delicious" you nodded, agreeing to your own opinion. "You've been ignoring me, aren't you?" You kept on eating, carefully savoring the taste of the freshly prepared sushi. "Ohh... I've never try this one before" you excitedly exclaimed with a smile. "Take some of mine, if you'd like?" You carefully eat the sushi and only replied after you finished eating the ones on your portion. You didn’t even spare a glance over the food he recommended to you. "That was delicious! Thank you for the food. If there's another time, I'll definitely teach the chef some of my nation's specialty dishes" you beamed a smile and continued to stack some of the emptied plates. You were about to stand up to send the plates back to the kitchen but obviously someone wasn't going to let that happen. As quick as lightning, his hand was already holding on to your wrist. You looked at his long slender fingers encircling your thin wrist. 'It wouldn't be convenient to fight against this' you thought, seemingly giving up on trying when it comes to physical strength. "What is it?" you casually asked. "Are you angry?" His other hand was still holding the chopsticks. "What a childish question." You laughed "No, I'm not" and yet a hint of irritation was visible. "Then what are you not telling me?" He carefully placed down the chopsticks and suddenly become more serious. "Is it about the questions I've asked you?" He tries to guess due to your lack of response. You shook your head unhesitatingly. "Then, is it about the letters?" You just silently stared at him. The letters wasn't actually on your mind ever since you walked out of his office. It was something you never thought about. "I've long declined all of it. Have you not listened to what I've said?" He quickly adds after seeing the frown on your face. You shook your head because truthfully you wasn't paying attention aside from thinking about food during that time. 'What did he even said?' you attentively thought to yourself trying to remember but nothing comes to mind. He sighed, "It's you, I chose you" "I have never written you any letter of such" you innocently adds. "You don't need one, I'll take you myself" Ayato carefully looked at you expression but he can only sigh, seemingly helpless after seeing that you still have that same poker face. Absolutely not the slightest moved by such words. Truthfully he was out of idea. He couldn't decipher what has happened. "Alright, I plead guilty. Please do enlightened me with my wrong doings" His other hand was now holding on to your hand. Never did he thought that he had to give up on guessing it. Perhaps when it comes to figuring about you, he couldn't help but felt desperate and couldn't take any consequences. For a moment you only stared at him. "Never eat late, especially for lunch" you finally told him the core reason. He blinked at that, trying to digest those words. After a moment did finally a soft smile adorns his face. "Unless if you're not with me, I wouldn't mind" you casually adds. "Understood, we'll be on time when it comes to breakfast, lunch and dinner. Also including evening tea and supper" he excitedly exclaimed. The way he actually understood is actually overly extreme with nothing but admiration towards you. This person actually defines 'never eat late...' part as caring with love for him so extremely to the point that you could get angry over it. Although he isn't wrong about caring but it is undeniable that you were just so hungry yourself. However, 'unless if you're not with me...' went overboard because what you actually meant by that was to remind him that you're not trying to control him for saying the core reason but just as a reminder. If you were to spend time with him, at least he should consider lunch time. Working without energy does makes someone less efficient after all. Hence, he just confidently assumed that you were willing and want to have more lunch time with him. In fact to exaggerate it more, he defines it for a lifetime which is rather unexpected. If only you knew about this... "I did say for lunch only, besides-" you try to clarify your words. "No, I won't take back what I've just said" You helplessly sighed at your failed attempt trying to even talk with this man. You gave up. "So, is this the only offer you're giving for the chosen maidens?" You decides to change the topic way too quick even he couldn't keep up. Such sudden question left the Commissioner blinking in thoughts. Eventually he laughed, slightly shaking his head side to side. A bit too slow to react. "Not that I've chosen anyone before... So, naturally that would be you to decide" 

[deepseavibez]

Drowning Too Deep_1 || KNJ || JHS

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-> Picture Source - Pinterest

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Drowning Too Deep [Namjoon x Hoseok x Reader]

Part 1 || Part 2 || 2.1 || 2.2 || Part 3

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Genre - Explicit Smut; established!Boyfriend(s) au; Poly oneshot; Punishment;

Summary - Alone at home, nothing but thoughts, pent up emotions, roaming fingers and a wild imagination... that is... until your boyfriends catch you in the act.

🎶- I Feel Like I'm Drowning - Two Feet

Warning - 21+!Only; Smut; Poly; Explicit; Edging; Fingering; Choking;

Word Count - 5.3k

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To be fair, you didn't expect either of your boyfriends to be home soon.

Namjoon never drops by when he's working with Yoongi and Hoseok might come and go, but being this deep in comeback season took its toll fast.

Usually able to sneak a breakfast meeting that involved light airy kisses and touches, sleepy eyes and words falling over each other, sometimes a lunch date, one by one or together, but recently, it was morning, barely the evening sometimes, and a whole lot of extra hours.

Schedules busier than ever you didn't want to bother either of them. You didn’t want to explain that you were restless for cuddles, for their hands, their lips, them. Like an itch under your skin far beyond missing each others’ presence.

So you left it alone. Patient and supportive, you would have them again soon enough.

Alone, with your thoughts, feelings, you could just as well handle yourself, but you also knew the rules - no touching yourself.

At first the rules didn't take well to you, feeling limited more than anything, from doing what you had before you met them; you didn't see what the big deal was.

But once you had a taste of them and had seen them touch themselves, you didn't want them to do it without you either.

It was an irrational reaction. Something like possessiveness, the feeling instinctive and overpowering. It made a bit of sense once you explored the adverse reaction to them touching themselves without you - why, when there was a perfectly capable kitty in the next room.

Sure, you weren’t a sex toy, and it was about love and support and so much more, but you were available, always ready, down to try new things or for licking them up like a lollipop.

So you agreed, no touching yourself as long as they didn’t.

The thing was, disobeying them before you explored your sexuality was very much about playing up your independence, proving yourself, taking a stand, now, it was because you loved the punishment that came after.

Of course you did try more often than not to get away with it, but if you were caught the thrill was too exhilarating to pass up.

Oh but they could be brutal. Two dominating males that felt they owned every inch of you, that would do anything to keep you happy, that would try anything to have you pleasured and sated.

You were treated like a queen to the outside, to anyone that actually knew about you, and a slut of the same level in the bedroom.

Sure you earned your own money, bought your own things, but they bought you gifts anyway, jewellery, shoes, a diamond necklace that was once the only thing you wore as they fucked you.

You weren't a pet though, and definitely not a gold digger, being a social media analyst, when you knew what you were doing and remained adaptable, was a pretty good job to hang onto.

It helped that you stayed in the shadows as a private advisor for the studios own social media department. That was how you met them.

You tried to convince yourself that what you knew of them could be different, it could be the complete opposite of what they actually were, and you really tried to make it seem like you weren't that much of a fan.

But Namjoon with his quirks and words, Hoseok with his optimism, the addictive vibrating energy that buzzed around him - you were right, those weren't who they were. Well...all of the time.

Namjoon could be hard and protective - he could shut down and shut out, Hoseok could be sad, energy levels a straight line, no peak, no pop and both balanced each other on their worst days. It was just a bit of a cluster fuck to get through when their bad days came together.

But to privy of those days, to be allowed in the personal bubble, it made you instantly understand you were different.

You didn't expect them to be open to having a third person, let alone you but here you were sitting on their, no, on your blue couch, in the lounge where you now lived.

Two years now, you moved to Seoul. The time before that was as hard as it could be when dating an idol whose face was recognized all over the world. And you had two.

They were still single to the public and you would be lying if some of the posts and comments didn't get to you. You'd also be hypocritical, because not long before, you had been on Twitter and Tumblr, reading fanfictions, 'simping' as they call it.

Sure some fans took it a bit too far, but you were not delusional, knowing of them and knowing them were two completely different concepts; it was also long before you met them. You had to hand it to them - they were sexy as hell and it was actually surprising how feral the reaction could be with a bit of exposed skin, and how shockingly overwhelming, the music and the performances were.

Turning off the television when the credits of the movie rolled through you stretched your hands up and unfolded your legs from under you. The slight click in your knees an indication of how long you’d had them folded and you groaned as the blood rushed through your legs, the numb pain lasting a few seconds.

Sinking back down you glanced towards the balcony on the left, the mid afternoon sun waning behind a cluster of clouds - skies blue and orange in an effort to be cloudy and sunny at the same time.

Staring at the ceiling, you thought of what to do now. You'd finished your work, finishing up meetings in the early morning so you knew you had nothing pending, you'd watched a movie, ate earlier during it and your boyfriends wouldn't be back until later, if at all.

Ah, your boyfriends. Two of them! Lucky bitch you smiled internally.

The feeling faded as fast as it came, as you frowned slightly, thinking about them at work. You could go to them, with the excuse of food, or just yourself, but that would disturb them. You could text them to come early but that would be selfish of you.

Thinking of Hobi now, you remembered this morning, his smirk as he pulled away from your goodbye kiss, the same smirk that he had on when his fingers thrust inside you and his satisfaction as you made a mess for him. Shower quickies were a must when they were this riled up and stressed out, and especially for you when you couldn’t take your time with them or them with you.

You’re so spoiled, y/n.

And Namjoon, don't even get started, he didn't have to smirk, his eyes said everything. He liked to watch as Hobi pushed you, his gaze smoldering, taking in every inch of you - it caused a thrill to run through your body every single time.

Like a brand, a reminder that made you feel owned, a need for you to obey any command that left his lips. When he did take you, it was his lips that found the softest parts of you, his hands that held you in place, a controlled dominance that coveted every part of you.

Your submission was only ever behind closed doors though, and despite earlier concerns, they never questioned your independence when you did give yourself to them fully. You learned later on it was simply never in the picture.

You learned that no one lost respect by going on their knees to pleasure their partner. No one degraded themselves by listening and wanting to please their significant others. No one who felt that flash of heat when they were tied, choked or following orders, was any less of themselves after they did any of it.

It was quite possibly the biggest gift they could give you. To help you explore yourself and accept who you were. That the things that felt absolutely right were not wrong and would never be anything to be ashamed of.

Sometimes they switched up the dynamic, Hoseok directing Namjoon's actions. Hoseok was more vocal, the dirty talk, the compliments, calling you his. The pair on the same page, on the same level of dominance in the bedroom, their bond a balance that worked. When you were adapted around the dynamic you fell in the middle, where one pulled, the other pushed and you leaned in accordance with them.

It’s why you remained a priority, your moods and happiness, preferences and choices, because if you fell, you pulled both ends with you. Part of why your heart was raw for them. Because when you did fall, they came willingly, ready to stay down with you, and be the strength to pull you up and find your footing again.

Not having trustworthy partners or the particular knowledge and experiences needed to be on par with them, had you at a disadvantage for a bit.

But Namjoon and Hoseok encouraged communication with you more than anything else. You talked before doing anything. Even the vanilla stuff. Once they noticed the flush on your skin, wide eyes and excitement to their blunt words and detailed explanations - dirty talk became more frequent, the images running through your mind had you breathless, your reactions leaving them hard and wanting more. The verbal part became just as important as actually carrying out the deed.

They constantly checked on you in the first months of your already deepening relationship. The safe word came first. Safety first with both of your cautious men. Always asking if you were hurting, if they should stop, suggested compromising and having sex with one person at a time instead of both at once, explaining their kinks and what they preferred and constantly kept tabs on yours.

They were wonderful and you were totally in love. And you really wanted them right now.

Opening your phone you hovered over the call button on Namjoon's contact, thought the better of it and did the same for Hoseok, again second guessing yourself. What would you say 'Come home? I miss you.' Fucking headass.

Picking an app to aimlessly scroll through you stopped on Tumblr, your dashboard pulling up a set of gifset. They both had access to your phone and though they never touched it or kept tabs on you, Tumblr had a password. Because there was no way, they were allowed to see the amount of fanfiction you had read and re-blogged about them. Old habits die hard.

Checking the links you found a particular favorite of yours. Hobi as a dominant, this particular Hobi knew how much his y/n needed to be tied up. The act of not having any chance of control, a release in itself. You knew firsthand how addictive the feeling could be. When you controlled every aspect of your life, exercised your emotions and masked them meticulously, when you had two talented, breathtaking boyfriends - you had to be strong, independent and make sure everyone knew you could handle yourself.

So when you were tied down, having no power, no control, the right to any of it stripped away from you, you could only be yourself, vulnerable, raw and give your whole trust in their waiting hands. Bondage had become a guilty pleasure after the first time and they took their sweet time with you. Edging you, teasing, whispering in your ear all the dirty things they could do to you, what they loved about you, kissing you everywhere besides your lips, nipping and touching and coaxing you until you were floating, where everything was cloudy, where you needed them to find you when they had finally pushed you over.

You read the fanfiction, indulging yourself and played it out in your head.

Feeling the slight breeze roam across you in the humidity of the afternoon, you rubbed your thighs together, and chewed on your lip as Hobi played with his y/n bringing her over with his fingers and his mouth, and driving her insane as he teased her with his tip and before you knew it, you were discarding your phone next to you.

Your head fell to the back of the couch and your eyes closed. Your hands trailed under your shirt, teasing yourself as you felt the pads of your fingers on your skin, a slow caress, you imagined Hobi's hands on you. Your breathing labored as you reached your nipples, and sighed as you squeezed them the way you liked, the way he knew you liked it.

Imagining Namjoon, he'd be pulling at your clothes, wanting you as naked as possible, but taking his sweet time about it. Like unwrapping a present.

Moving to unbutton your shorts, you stopped and opened your eyes. If you went any further, you didn't have the control to stop. And you'd be breaking the rule.

But the devil on your shoulder was a slut. Reminding you that they weren't home, reasoning that they wouldn't be here for at least a few hours.

You could take care of yourself, clean up, change clothes, all, before they came home.

Decision made, you unbuttoned your shorts and panties and kicked them off. Your hand pushed your shirt up, and closed over your breast, the other finding its way between your legs.

Squeezing your breast lightly your mouth fell open as you trailed two fingers around your folds, pressing lightly at your bud. Feeling the build up as you clenched around nothing, you nibbled at your bottom lip, and whimpered as you pressed down harder on your bud.

Your hips lifted up, as if trying to find the men that were usually behind these ministrations. Lowering your fingers and fitting one inside your hole, you whimpered at how wet you were, at Hobi's voice in your head telling you how ready you were for him, his dirty girl. And you suddenly felt empty because of how small your fingers were.

Trying a second finger helped, but you needed more stimulation, so you reached your other hand down for your clit. As you worked yourself slowly, you groaned as you imagined Namjoon's face, his gaze would be focused on you, he'd watch you, he'd lean down to grip your exposed nipple between his lips and suckle it, pulling hard, palming the other through your shirt.

Imagining him nipping at it, you bucked towards your fingers, trying to quicken the pace. Hobi’s fingers, Namjoons hands, their lips at the shell of your ear, your neck - breathing hard, pushing your fingers as you approached an almost release, you - 'Don't come until we tell you to.'

Eyes flying open, you caught sight of the two men in your imagination who had come to life.

Hoseok leaned casually on the door jam behind the couch in front of you, hand in his pocket, his head slightly tilted as he stared at the space between your legs.

The statement had come from Namjoon who sat opposite you, your shorts in his hand, his expression contemplative, as his tongue poked at the inside of his cheek

They were not happy.

Cautiously, you raked over their forms, unable to help yourself, now that they were here, that there was a chance they could finish what you started. Straying to their pants, your breath caught in your throat as you spotted a distinct bulge in both their jeans.

Swallowing audibly you thought, they were definitely not happy.

Their eyes took in your form, your fingers still between your legs, your exposed breast and you knew damn well your eyes were blown wide, body ready for a release you were now sure, if their hard gazes were an indication, you would not be getting any time soon.

Part 1 || Part 2 || 2.1 || 2.2 || Part 3

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[itstittycitybaby]

 A/N: thank you @darlingimmafangirl for this request! I really enjoyed writing it :)) also reader is semi pro equalist. not really but she can understand amon’s pov even though he took it to the extreme of things. curious about yall’s stance on amon’s whole revolution thing. feel free to flood my inbox about it ;))

You could hear the whispers and feel the stares. You weren’t ignorant; being the girlfriend of the beloved chief in Republic City caught a lot of attention. Lin Beifong wasn’t one to make friendships, let alone have a girlfriend. From bystanders eyes she was cold but determined. It was the age gap they whispered about.

Normally, the two of you would eat in after work. Lin was exahausted from the long days of her job. Something about more reports to file and sign (that’s what you got from her grumbling anyway). It had been another boring day at the studio and you wanted to go out. Your art was coming along great, but you were tired of being cooped up all day. Now, however, you regretted it.

 Lin was older;her hair had grayed and the crows feet around her eyes told a story. However, she was still gorgeous with her green eyes as they glittered underneath the light of the booth the two of you sat at. She was incredibly strong both physically and mentally. Lin was in her early fifties, while you were in your mid twenties. 

Your relationship was difficult to even start. Lin already had trouble with relationships as a whole, but to be with someone more than a decade younger than her? That was another problem in itself. 

“You’re doing it again,” Lin murmured as she took a sip from her drink. “Hm?” “Thinking. Getting lost in your thoughts.” “Oh,” you replied softly, trying to forget about the waiter’s surprised expression after you squeezed Lin’s hand over the table. “Just...a bit nervous is all.” She shot a brow in response. “Everyone’s staring,” you mumbled, folding your hands into your lap. Lin hummed, “I suppose we make an odd couple.” “Doesn’t matter,” you said, shaking it off. “I’d rather be here with you.” She smiled softly, yet you could tell her gaze wavered. “You shouldn’t care so much about what everyone thinks,” she murmured, cutting her fork into her food. “I know,” you replied, “I just need to be here in the present.” “Atta girl.”

There was a ceremony for the avatar after Amon’s defeat. Your joints and limbs ached from protecting the people from the equalists. Even the fire in your blood weakened but Katara assured you you’d be back in no time. All the fighting and all the emotional drainage took a toll on you. Though, you couldn’t say much. At least you were fortunate enough to protect your bending. You sat at the bar of the ballroom, swinging your legs as you waited for Lin to join you. She had to stay with councilman Tenzin and Korra while the reporters flocked around them. The red dress clung to your figure tightly and stopped mid thigh. You swirled a wine glass absentmindedly, mulling over the past couple of months you had been through. The disappearance of Amon took a huge burden off of Korra and Lin, but you still couldn’t help but feel unhappy. Amon wanted everyone to be equal, and yes he took it to the extreme of things, but he strived for balance. He was right about the haughtiness in benders and how they carried themselves. Even you had trouble with the ego of bending. Even though Amon had escaped, your bones felt heavy. Something told you that he was dead. It didn’t matter anymore did it? “Mind if I buy you a drink?” Glancing over, a man around your age slid in the stool next to you. You raised a brow taking a sip before replying. “I’m fine thank you.” 

“C’mon don’t be so uptight sweetheart.” You shot him a glare, your jaw clenched together. “I said. I’m fine.” The man snorted. His brown eyes glanced to your ears and his glance became curious. The gold earrings you wore twinkled in the light. They were an anniversary gift Lin had given you for occasions such as these. Two precious rubies dripped from each earring along with the necklace you wore.

“There you are.” The anger in your veins dissipated from the voice you’ve been waiting to hear all night. You smiled, turning to Lin. Sliding out of the barstool you sighed,“Finally, I’ve been waiting for a while now.” Lin hummed, “I was kept up by the reporters.” You giggled at the annoyance in her tone. She wanted to go home and rest while everyone else danced the night away. You couldn’t really blame her. 

Glancing back, you noticed the man’s eyes bulging out of his head. He looked like a toad as he stared at that two of you. Lin’s eyes narrowed, holding his stare. “Is there a problem,” she snapped, crossing her arms. The man shook his head quickly, “N-no.” “Carry on then.” He turned quickly and you giggled as he stared down into his drink.

He muttered the words “gold digger” as the two of you left the bar.

“You’re dating?” Lin could feel the headache already starting to form. For god’s sake the two of you just got here. “Yes, we’re dating,” Lin confirmed, albeit a bit harshly. Tenzin’s brows raised in surprise while his kids squawked around him. Lin’s distaste for children didn’t lessen slightly. You stood next to her fumbling over your words and twiddling with your fingers. Your cheeks were pink in contrast to Lin’s tugging frown. ‘So much for secrecy,’ you thought. Tenzin gaped like a fish and closed his mouth. This proceeded to continue for several seconds until eventually he kept it shut. “Out with it,” Lin huffed. Her posture was rigid and she seethed with anger. It was supposed to be a nice picnic with just the two of you. Tenzin and his family seemed to have other plans, however. “I-I’m not trying to be rude,” he sputtered. “But Lin you’re definitely much older.” These types of conversations were nothing new. However, Lin seemed to be very upset. “Councilman Tenzin,” you murmured sharply, “With all do respect, it is none of your business.” He deflated at your response. You were known for keeping your cool, going against the stigma of firebenders. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my girlfriend and I will be going home. Have a lovely day.” Grabbing the supplies you and Lin trekked back home.

Lin groaned as she flopped on the couch. The picnic’s failure soured her mood. “It seems like we can’t go anywhere these days,” she grumbled. “I take one day off from work.” You sighed as you finished putting away the uneaten packed food. “I know dear, I know.”

Lin huffed in reply. “Getting called a gold digger, or being told “I could take care of you soooo much better” gets really tiring after awhile,” you said through gritted teeth. Lin’s eyes softened. Slowly she made her way into the kitchen where you unpacked the basket. “I didn’t know you were being called that.” You sighed, “It’s fine really, I shouldn’t let it get to me.” Her hand gently grasped your arm. “It’s not fine, you should have told me.” “I know,” you muttered, turning to face her, “but every time I commented about it, it seemed to make you feel bad.”

Lin’s hands grasped your cheeks softly. She gently kissed your lips. “They’ll get used to it,” you said once you both pulled away. “I’m sorry if I made you upset.” Her brows furrowed. “What?” “Yknow, how I handled Tenzin. I didn’t mean to blow up like that. But I guess that’s what’s expected, being a firebender and all. You chuckled humorlessly. Lin laughed, “You handled it perfectly. It was rude to comment on it.” “Besides,” Lin continued, “You’re the calmest firebender I’ve met. Better than that Mako guy.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around her neck.

“He can be a pain,” you agreed. Lin’s arms wrapped around your lower back.  “It’s hard with the stigma firebenders have. They think we’re all hot headed and destructive. “Nonsense my dear,” Lin replied, leaning down to kiss your head. “You’re the best damn one out there.” You grinned at her response. “And you’re the most hot headed earth bender Republic City’s ever seen.” Lin snorted, “Alright moments over.” You laughed, squeezing her tightly. “Ohhh come on Lin, you know it’s true.” She rolled her eyes and scoffed but you could see the smile on her lips.

[introvertguide]

The Best Years of Our Lives (1946); AFI #37

The next film on the AFI list is the epic drama, directed by William Wyler, about the men coming home to their families after WW2, The Best Years of Our Lives (1946). The timing on the films\ was perfect to help families deal with the struggles of returning war veterans. It deals with unfaithful partners, loving partners who have to learn to except injuries of their loved ones, and families who have made a life out of being without a father in the household and nobody is quite sure how to proceed. The movie was nominated for 8 Oscars and took home 7 of them including Best Picture and Best Director. Harold Russel won Best Supporting Actor as well as a special award for encouraging fellow veterans. Mr. Russel was the only actor to ever win two acting awards for the same role in the same year. There is more to be said about the actors and the story, but it seems now is a good time to go over the plot of the film. This, of course, involves...

SPOILER ALERT!!! WHAT HAPPENS IN THIS FILM IS NO BIG SURPRISE, BUT I WOULD STILL RECOMMEND WATCHING IT FIRST AND THEN COMING BACK AFTER TO READ THE REVIEW!!!

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The plot follows the lives of three veterans returning from service at the end of World War II to the fictional midwestern town of Boone City: USAAF bombardier Fred Derry (Dana Andrews), naval petty officer Homer Parrish (Harold Russel), and platoon sergeant Al Stephenson (Fredric March). Before their respective military service, Fred was a soda jerk who married Marie (Virginia Mayo) shortly before shipping out. Al was a banker living with his wife Millie (Myrna Loy), adult daughter Peggy (Teresa Wright) and teen-aged son Rob. Homer was a star high school athlete living with his parents and sister, next door to his girlfriend, Wilma (Cathy O'Donnell). Homer lost both hands during the war and returns with mechanical hook prostheses.

Each man faces challenges integrating back into post-war society. Homer deals with the adjustments he and his family and Wilma face in light of his disability. Al's penchant for alcohol and the adjustments of returning to the banking business cause tension with his family and business associates. Fred, who experiences flashbacks of his bombing raids, becomes frustrated with the wife he barely knows and an employer who fails to appreciate him, and who eventually fires him when Fred punches a man in defense of Homer. Fred and Peggy become attracted to each other which puts the married Fred and Al at odds. Fred eventually leaves his cheating wife, and with no seeming future in Boone City, he decides to catch the next plane out. At the airport, Fred visits an aircraft boneyard and has another flashback. He is roused by a work crew boss who agrees to hire Fred to help disassemble the war planes for prefabricated housing material. Now divorced, Fred serves as best man at the wedding of Homer and Wilma, where he sees Peggy and they reunite.

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I have watched this film 4 times in the last 6 weeks because I kept meaning to do the review and then something happened. I had a move out of state, my dad was sick, I got a sudden group of students...it has been interesting. It has allowed my to really digest what this film is all about. A couple things that surprised me are how the women play all the tough characters, which was very abnormal for the time. Fred plays second fiddle to a cheating wife. Al tries to get his family to go out on the town. Homer doesn't want to talk about what is bothering him while Wilma shows undying love and loyalty. All of the men's roles basically described how Old Hollywood expected women to act at the time.

Let's go into depth with the characters a little more. Fred is having some kind of PTSD issue caused by seeing a man burned in a bomber. He apparently saved a bunch of men, but his memories still haunt him. He married a gold digger that loves a man in uniform before he left and she turns out to be a dud. He falls for Peggy Stevenson, daughter of one of the men he met on the plane home. He moves in too early and gets told off by her dad but his garbage wife divorces him and he goes back for Peggy. A lot of men got married right before leaving and returned to a wife they didn't really know. This was a real and present danger at the time this film came out and it was brave of them to address it so head on.

Al was the big man around the house and made all of the money for the family and his wife and children basically served him before the war. Al went off and became a sergeant so he became used to people doing what he said. He returned to a family that had learned to get by without him and had their own life so he is at a loss of what his place is in the family so he just gets drunk to cover up the awkwardness. His wife, Millie, and his daughter, Peggy, have angelic patience with the unsure man of the family and help him find his place again. This aspect of the movie was more about the strong women of the family although Fredric March was the one who received an Oscar for his performance.

Homer is the character I think most people remember about this movie because he was missing his hands. He was afraid to see his girlfriend and family because of the hooks that replaced his hands might be frightening. It did take some getting used to, but his girl seemed to love him just the same. Homer seemed to think that she would not like him anymore because he couldn't do all of things he could before. He had a little difficulty with tone because he would go from demanding independence one minute to wallowing in self pity the next. What is so good about the film and the character is that injured veterans tend to go through the stages of grief over the loss of a limb or motor function of a limb. It is likely that he would be all over the spectrum emotionally.

There were quite a few racial slurs about the Japanese people because there were very hard feelings for the bombing of Pearl Harbor, especially from the Navy and Air Force. It is a little hard to listen to today, but it does convey they American sentiment of the time. It also makes sense that you really have to hate somebody to want to fight and kill them, so I understand why all of the these characters would feel that way about people from that country.

Some of the scenes were a little uncomfortable to watch because awkward feelings about returning home and fitting back in with their families and society is not a comfortable subject. Al was especially hard for me to watch because he tried to hide his feelings with copious amounts of drinking. His first night back when he hit on his wife thinking she was somebody else and when he made a speech at his company's "welcome home" party both stand out as especially cringy.

So does this film belong on the AFI top 100? Of course it does. It is multi award winning and gives the viewer a feel for that moment in time right after WW2 when all the military people were coming home. Would I recommend it? Yes. It is one of the few movies of the time period that weren't touting America's superiority and instead focused on the toll that going to war took on the people who fought and those waiting back home. It is quite a long film with some cringy moments, but it is well worth it and very memorable.

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Breaking the Cycle || Adam, Alcher, Ariana, Layla, & Nell

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @walker-journal @zahneundklauen @letsbenditlikebennett @laylacooke @nelllraiser SUMMARY: Alcher and Layla seek out Adam for retribution, while Ariana grabs Nell to assure no one else dies tonight.  CONTENT: Suicide ideation, disease, violence

Lyssa’s Peak was a jagged spike against the violet sky. Its wooded slopes were choked with mist as canyons and cliffs gradually succumbed down into gentler foothills whose trees occasionally thinned around an old quarry or abandoned timber operation that was gradually being swallowed again by the relentless march of the montane forest. 

It was in one of these abandoned mountainside quarries that Adam had chosen to spare, due to it being one of few clearings with reasonably level ground. Whatever unfortunate company had been tempted to sink investments into Lyssa’s Peak had long since cut their losses when the inevitable ‘incidents’ took their toll on the workforce and equipment. Abandoned cranes, dozers, and digger trucks lay quietly rusting in the quarry’s lower basin. The once clean cut and precise terrace steps of exposed rock that had formed the quarry’s sides now sported outcroppings of trees and bushes as nature reclaimed the excavation layer by layer. 

Adam’s sleeveless workout T-shirt stuck to his body with sweat as he took a break to chug down a water bottle. He offered a spare water bottle to Layla. “So ...why’d you wanna train up anyway Cooke?” 

Since Ariana had admitted the news about Adam being Winn’s killer, Layla could think of nothing else, but why and revenge. The last time anger had been harbored so deeply inside was right before she had hypnotized herself, and while she didn’t exactly have that option at the moment, she at least knew that she’d have backup sooner or later.

With sweat running down her fair face and her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, she easily caught the water and began chugging it down, “I’m tired of being the weak one in everything. It’s like…” She took another drink of water, “Everyone either wants to protect me or use me for my nose. I’m not a fucking bloodhound. And if my parents ever show…” She didn’t finish her thought. Instead, she took another drink of water and capped the bottle, “You ready to go again? And don’t go easy on me. Go hard. If you hurt me, then so be it. I’ve gotta learn.” Tossing the bottle to the side, she found her fighting stance readying herself for Adam’s attack; the energy from Lyssa’s Peak fueling the fire and anger inside of her small fit form. She hadn’t quite got a good hit in on the hunter yet, but she would before the night was over with.

The hunter was a child, but Alcher had decided long ago that that no longer mattered. They were marched out of their cribs and turned into war machines as young as five, four-- perhaps even three years old. Handed swords and told that they were born with a duty, a destiny, and that only they held the power to destroy monsters. When in truth, monsters were arbitrary. To a wolf who was left alone after their family was slaughtered, the hunter was the monster. And prey was just prey. Human was just...human.

Tonight, Alcher would show this young hunter what real monster’s looked like. He was well trained, she could see it in the movements of his body. But he had come unarmed to this sparring match. Well, perhaps not completely unarmed-- she knew true hunters always carried a weapon with them, she’d learned that lesson the hard way long ago-- but there were no swords or silver bullets in sight. Sweat mixed with the smell of the forest floor. The energy of Lyssa’s Peak made the shift easy. Now, while he was distracted. Her light body was more silent among the dead leaves of the ground, but she needed to be quick-- he would hear her soon enough. She tore from the brush quickly and bee-lined for the hunter. Layla would follow suit or she would incur wrath. Golden eyes bore down on Adam, teeth and claws following quickly after. 

From what she could piece together of the messages, Ariana knew she needed to get to Adam and get to him quickly. While she was still pissed, she couldn’t just let him get killed. That’s exactly what Winn didn’t want to happen. The thought of warning Adam had crossed her mind, but then he’d likely just kill Alcher and Layla. It was enough to make her heart race as she panicked and called Nell who had of course been willing to help. She always was. Once she’d picked Nell up, a tracking spell and her nose led them to Lyssa’s Peak. The sky was getting darker and the place had a certain energy about it that made her feel stronger. The smaller hills around the area were easy enough to navigate and she could hear the sounds of a fight though it seemed friendly in the moment, but she could smell Alcher here. It was a trap. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and stayed tucked behind a tree. “We’re not far,” she whispered to Nell, “There’s something about this place, I feel stronger. I think I should go in first and you can provide magical backup as needed?” 

Part of her knew Nell may want to be more on the frontlines, but she couldn’t stand the thought of her becoming a werewolf snack. She kept herself low below the brush and made sure her steps were quiet as she approached. As she saw Alcher lunging toward Adam, she called out, “No! Adam, watch out.” No longer caring about being seen, she darted across the way to try and stop the fight without any casualties. 

Nell supposed that she could only be thankful that Ariana had told her what was happening in time for her to get her ribs healed. Desperate measures, in her terms, had been taken when it came to making sure the bones were sound enough to withstand the potential clash that was brewing. The warm tingling of a fresh healing from her mother was still settling into her chest, mixing fluidly with the buzzing beginnings of her adrenaline. She’d put the interaction as far as she could from her mind, focussing instead on the task that was now at hand. Her eyes flicked to Ariana at the werewolf’s suggestion, and Nell took a beat to chew on it before replying. “I’ll let you go first. But if I think either you or Adam’s about to go down— I’m not gonna hesitate,” she warned, knowing that she wouldn’t toy with the lives of those that were important to her. 

As Alcher leapt forward, Nell did her best to fight against the urge to rise and meet her. A lack of reaction went against every fiber of her body’s current demands, and her jaw was clenched as she forced herself to watch and trust Ariana. Instead, she fiddled nervously with the hilt of a silver dagger clenched in her hand, drawn from its hiding place. Nell’s patience only lasted so long before her gut won out, and a quick spell was dropped from her lips to raise an invisible shield between Adam and the lunging wolf. 

Adam’s too focused on sparring with Layla when a burning-ice sensation running up his spine and across his skin let Adam know a few seconds too late that another paranormal being had descended into the quarry. 

Ariana’s voice called out and Adam spun, reaching back to draw a concealed survival knife in one fluid movement born from years of conditioning that’d made such an economy of motion pure instinct. But the wolf was already on him in a blunt impact of pure accelerated muscle.  

A moment of blinding pain later, Adam jumped up from the stony ground into a guarded crouch, clutching the silvered survival knife in the hand not currently bleeding from lacerations. The impact had thrown him down and torn open his shoulder and left arm, but Adam racing thoughts recognized that he’d probably have a giant ass wolf ripping open his throat right now if ...something … hadn’t suddenly blunted the wolf’s charge. 

“You should probably go to Ariana and get the hell outta here,” Adam noted to Layla in a low voice as he warrieing stared down the three legged wolf, painfully aware that a survival knife and one good arm weren't exactly great odds. 

Everything had happened so much quicker than expected. The sparring had resumed only to be interrupted by Alcher lunging for Adam, and Layla quickly backstepping to get out of the path of the angry wolf. However, it was Ariana’s voice that had thrown her. Why was she here? She was supposed to be home or with Luna. Not around to bear witness to what was taking place.

Seeing the wolf go down and Adam freed from Alcher’s wicked grasp gave Layla the opportunity she needed. It was his warning that had only seemed to anger her more, “Why? So you can kill another one of my friends?” Head low, she could already feel the painfulness of wanting to shift, and before long, she was bearing blood covered fangs and sharp claws out of shaky hands; a sickness hovering as her body wanted more from the shift. But she had no time to waste. Adam was down, and without thinking about the consequences of her own actions, merely revenge, she lunged on top of the hunter and let her claws sink into his skin dragging them downward in advance to make him suffer just like Winn probably had.

Alcher, focused on her target, had not allowed herself to believe she had smelled Ariana’s scent in the forest around them. Or, perhaps, she had found herself hoping that the young wolf had come voluntarily to help with their mission. But her voice rang out and it called not for her or Layla, but for the hunter. And even as Alcher’s teeth sunk into flesh, and claws scraped at cloth, she could not revel in the taste of hunter blood. Instead, a rage burned inside of her, for in the next moment, something was pushing her from the hunter’s body, stopping her forward movement. Another smell, a new smell. Human-- so human. Teeth still coated in blood, she growled, low and dark, expressing her anger. Gold eyes flashed again and she turned, glowering down at the young wolf standing next to the human. Anger and disappointment ravaged Alcher’s mind, but she could not entirely fault the young wolf for her weakness. She was not raised with other wolves, she did not know properly.

Punishment would have to come later.

A small swell of pride filled her when she smelled the hunter’s blood again and she turned to see Layla digging into him. The other two would have to wait. Alcher bared her teeth again and made for the hunter’s neck. She would not kill him, though. No, that...she would leave for Layla.

There was no time to focus on the stupid decision she’d made in telling them about what really happened to Winn. Instinctively, her feet moved her forward and Ariana snarled at Layla who was now on top of Adam trying to rip into him. The energy of this place was seeping into her. Her legs were stronger, her motions more swift, and everything in her body was screaming for her to shift. Maybe that had been a little bit instinct, too. With Alcher fully transformed and Layla on her way there, there was no stopping them without allowing her more wild nature to take the lead. Still, she pleaded momentarily, “Layla, stop! This isn’t-- Winn didn’t want this, okay? This is the last thing Winn wanted.” God, she hoped he’d moved on and was at peace already so he couldn’t see this. It seemed there was no stopping the fight, especially not with Alcher here, so she focused on her breathing. 

 A few deep breaths later and she let the shift happen. The feeling this place gave her was worrying, but she had to keep her head on straight. If she didn’t, it was Adam and Nell who would pay the price. Her bones twisted and broke as she grew into her wolf self. The clothes on her back were ripped up on the ground behind her and the smell of blood was calling to her. Instinct called for the hunter’s blood, but her anger led her paws straight to Layla. The wolf ran at full speed, pummeling into Layla and knocking her off Adam. She wasn’t entirely a wolf yet, but she could still feel the resistance as she pinned her down. A loud growl in Layla’s face echoed in the hills around them. 

Nell had only recognized one of the two wolves. Layla was one she knew from having tried to execute a wrongful bounty on the girl, but the other werewolf was a mystery. Coincidentally, this was also the wolf that had been left in the clear when it came to attacking Adam. Ariana had thrown Layla off course, but there was a clear shot between the other wolf and the now bleeding Hunter. It seemed that Ariana had given up on solving this peacefully, which brought a new sharpness to Nell’s eyes and movements, shifting quickly into fight mode rather than defense.

“No!” Nell’s heart pounded out a frantic beat as she surged forwards, reminding her that there was much more hinging on this clash than usual, the literal lives of her friends being the ones dangling in danger. Performing another often-used spell to grant her temporary, heightened speed, the witch surged forwards to run interference, leaping towards Alcher, silver knife extended to plunge as she aimed for the wolf’s shoulder with a slash. Hopefully, if anything, it would serve as a distraction. Another moment later and she was using the knife on herself, drawing a line of blood down her forearm to fuel her next magic, creating two more Adams next to the original, trying to make it harder for the wolves to choose their marks when there were three apparitions giving off his scent. 

 The quarry’s stone’s bit deep as Adam struggled on his back, the muscles of his claw-raked arms and neck straining to ripcord tautness as he tried to hold off the three-legged wolf’s jaws now inches away from his throat. The creature’s breath was hot and wet against the Hunter’s face, thick with the coppery scent of Adam’s own blood dripping down her fangs. 

In that moment with death quite literally staring him in the face, Adam looked up into Alcher’s golden eyes  and also saw the eyes of Elias, amber lupine irises slowly becoming human as the knife of a football teammate ended the Turnskin’s curse. Adam saw Lucas’ pleading eyes as the hunted wolf knowingly placed his life in the hands of a killer. After that were Miles’ eyes regarding him warily, conditioned to distrust after a lifetime of regret. Adam saw Kaden’s eyes, transfixed by pain as his familys’ blood feud sought to swallow up yet another life. There were Mina’s eyes, afraid but not surprised as a stranger held her at knife-point for not being her father’s daughter. In there were Orion’s eyes as he saw Adam glance at his scars and finally grasp a depravity that’d been right in front of his face for years. Regan’s eyes were wide with confusion as she was held at gunpoint for being different in a way neither she or her assailant truly understood. The light died from James’ eyes as he was cut down by someone sworn to be his protector. 

Some unconscious part of Adam finally grasped what Celeste had already known and what Winn had died trying to get him to understand. 

But it was too late. Adam was an oathbreaker, a betrayer, a coward. 

Adam’s arms adupbtly started to give out as the wolf bore down on him. Far more than blood bled out of Adam on the quarry stones. It was like something within him snapped, pushed beyond the farthest brink of exhaustion for so long that it was finally giving out entirely. The last of embers of Adam’s dwindling faith went cold, leaving him to hopelessly fight a primal creature of myth with only a mortal strength. 

Reduced from predator to prey, Adam would’ve likely died beneath Alcher’s mauling right there if Nell hadn’t intervened, her distraction and illusions giving him just the narrow break to struggle free. 

“Nell ..Ariana,” Adam coughed hoarsely, struggling to stand but falling back to his knees as his now-human stamina. What was left of his clothes, shoulder and back were a ragged mass of claw of dirty claw-gouges. “You need to go,”

He looked up to Nell, eyes pleading with her not to perpetuate this cycle of death that’d begun generations before Adam and Winn were born. “This has gotta end with me.” 

Layla couldn’t hear Ariana’s voice because of the blind rage going through her body. All she could focus on was destroying Adam, but the jolt of another fully grown figure hitting her and knocking her off of him seemed to stun her enough to let out a yelp, before she realized she was being pinned down by the younger wolf. However, it didn’t stop the anger and frustration looming in her heart or the sense of rage Lyssa’s Peak was casting over her on an amplified level. She could feel the sickness of the bite; it’s poison as it raced through her veins and animal instinct became more prominent. And without making any attempt to stop the change, she embraced the excruciating pain as the shift took control leaving her cries soon turning into howls. And before long, golden eyes stared back into those of her best friend as she growled, before using all the hurt inside of her to push the other werewolf off.

Scampering to her feet, she noticed Adam on his knees. He was at the mercy of the beasts, and in that moment, she no longer saw a friend. She saw an enemy. One who had reminded her so much of what she was taught to do as a child. One that saw no mercy, when he aimed his gun and fired upon creatures, now like herself, that didn’t always deserve the fate they got, because a human with enhanced abilities felt it was his right to play God.

Lowering her head and snarling, spittle glistening from her open maw, she was going to make Alcher proud. Avenge Winn’s death. And take out a man who walked around so pompously pretending to be a God, when he was nothing more than a mere mortal. And without hesitating any longer, she made the mad dash in his direction with claws fully extended and teeth bared, ready to rip and tear his flesh like that of paper and snap his bones like twigs, not knowing if she would choose the right Adam. Only going off of instinct. 

Her two wolves were fighting each other and it tore at Alcher’s heart to see. But she needed to focus now-- she would have to trust that Layla could hold her own against Ariana. And hope that the confused wolf would come around to their thinking. Because in the next moment, pain tore through her shoulder. Alcher howled loudly, turning to face her attacker. The witch. She was becoming more than a nuisance, and if she prodded any further, she would also become a threat. Which meant she would have to kill her. Alcher threw her off quickly, and turned to face the hunter again-- but then there were more of him. Copies. They smelled the same, looked the same. Alcher roared angrily and leapt at one, tearing at its throat. It disintegrated in her mouth. She turned to the other two. They were weak. Staggering on their feet. Trying to sacrifice themself like some sort of martyr. She spit out blood and turned to look back at the spellcaster. The hunter deserved death, but perhaps she would let him suffer first. Unable to save his friends, he would watch.

She feigned as if to go for him once again, turning on her heel at the last minute to spring towards the spellcaster. She ran her full weight into the girl, claws curling in as if to hold onto her. And then jaws closed around her wrist, savoring the taste of her blood, while simultaneously preventing her from using her silver knife anymore. Next, her throat.

For a moment Nell hesitated, trying to make sense of Adam’s strangled plea. Was he asking for an end to the age old battle he’d been fighting for all his life? It was all she could do to shake her head in denial even though she’d told him not a week before that letting it fester would break him, giving her refusal to let him be the price for peace.  Because it wouldn’t be peace if he died. Not for the cycle, and certainly not for her. “It won’t stop, though,” she managed to grind out. It would be another turn of the gears that kept the killing machine of Hunter versus wolf still moving, the cogs bigger than this single clash. Beyond that- she was too selfish in the matter. Selfish enough to ensure that Adam lived, and selfish enough to forfeit any good that might come of seeing him die. Too many people had died, and he wasn’t a sacrifice she was willing to make. 

Her moment of stillness had stretched too long, and before Nell knew it she found herself tossed to the side. Alcher’s feint towards Adam was enough to have the witch launching herself in the wolf’s direction once again, but her eyes went wide as she realized Alcher was rising to meet her instead. It was over within a moment, a gasp of pain slipping from her as the wolf’s teeth found their mark. The deeper meaning of a werewolf bite was lost on her in the midst of the fight, not even having a moment to think of the obvious consequences it might hold when the very same teeth that had broken her skin were seeking her throat. She reached for her magic, the same that had exploded the Lamia’s head at the Ring, and unintentionally put Kaden on his knees in Bea’s kitchen. Focusing on the wolf’s leg opposite the one that was already half gone from some prior injury, she tugged with the intent to bend the leg into an unnatural position, hoping to shock the wolf into missing. A loud crack rang out as bone snapped, and Nell lived to see the wolf still above her, no doubt readying her next strike.

A snarl echoed through the clearing as Ariana saw Nell being attacked. Had she not been buzzing with wild energy, she may have been able to approach this more tactically, but as it stood, she had seen Adam in danger and ran on instinct. Now Nell was paying the price and the smell of blood in the air was calling to her. It was hard to ignore, but something about seeing Nell hurt propelled her forward. Layla was likely going to need a minute to find the real Adam and Nell didn’t have that long. Alcher’s ferocity was unnerving, especially when it was directed toward her friend. She darted forward, paws barrelling against the brush, and crashed into Alcher before she could sink her teeth anywhere more dangerous. 

The wolf in her felt out of sorts, fighting her own kind, but this was senseless. Even with her own ferocity threatening to spill over, she had to hold on to what Winn had wanted. If he could see them now, he’d be hurting and the thought only made a low growl rumble within her smaller form. Hopefully the moment for Nell to recover would give her the edge she needed. This felt like it would never end and she wished she’d thought of a better plan as she found herself craving the taste of blood.

Adam didn’t feel worthy of these two women risking their lives for him. Layla was right. He had killed Winn, a friend who’d trusted him, and there were consequences for that. He’d ignored all of Winn, Celeste, and Ariana’s warnings  about continuing the cycle of violence. 

Ari and Nell shouldn’t get killed trying to rescue Adam from something of his own making. 

But if they weren’t going to let him go, Adam needed to make sure everyone here made it out alive. 

Even just trying to keep standing seemed more than Adam had left, but even as the Hunter’s powers bled out of him, that lifelong mental conditioning to fight past the pain and focus on the mission still remained. His feet stumbled on the rough stones of this hillside quarry, and the summit of Lyssa’s Peak spun like a wheel of fortune in Adam’s blurry vision as the violet sky and bloodstained earth swapped places a couple times. But the singular goal of getting Ari and Nell out of here gave enough clarity for Adam to push back the impending blackout for a little while longer. 

He began to back away from Layla and Alcher towards the abandoned quarry’' ruined entrance, the only way out Adam could handle in his condition. He held the survival knife, a short utilitarian thing ill suited to holding off a supernatural predator, clutched in bloody-knuckled grip and pointed it towards the three legged wolf. 

“Nell, Ari,” he shouted hoarsely, “we gotta get outta here!” He motioned towards Penelope, making a stubborn but dubiously effective attempt to cover her escape away from Alcher.

Layla let her nose lead her forward, but she was confused by the scent. For the briefest of moments she thought she had sensed the right version of Adam and pushed forward, but guessed wrong and hit the ground in a lunging attack that left her stunned. Again. She had failed as she slowly came to her senses and watched as Adam backed away, his focus mainly on Alcher, proving that not even an injured hunter found her a threat.

She was sure she would hear an earful later from both Alcher and Ariana, if Ariana could even forgive her and any hope of still being in Nell’s good graces had gone out the door.

Anger was the only thing left. Even as pain ripped through Alcher’s body as her bone snapped. Even as Ariana’s body collided into hers. With a swift motion, even from the ground, Alcher turned her claws on Ariana. She smacked her square across the face and stood as much as her limbs would allow her, snarling angrily at the younger wolf, golden eyes piercing her. She raised a paw and smacked her again, shoving her away. Challenging her. Would she leave with the hunter and his witch? Or would she tuck her tail in shame and stay? The hunter was retreating, as well as his witch. They were wounded. But as Alcher looked around for Layla, she found that they, too, were injured beyond movement. It was time to retreat. They would finish this another day. Dying here was senseless, not when the hunter still walked.

They would find him later, when he was alone. And Alcher would let Layla finish it herself. He was weakened, she could sense it, and he couldn’t hold on much longer. He would be alone at some point, and they’d be waiting. 

Alcher hoisted herself up with her front paws and dragged her dangling, broken leg behind her as she made her way over to Layla. She gave the three retreating forms a glare and let them know that they could leave for now, but that this was not over, before looking to Layla. She had done good. She would be rewarded. Despite the droop in her shoulders and the tensing of her body, she had proven today that she was a real wolf. That was enough for Alcher.

Perhaps the claws colliding with her face shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Ariana. Even if she’d made an effort to not hurt anyone here, she had stood in the way of what they considered to be justice. Still, she snarled as the claws hit her face only to be met by another hit to the face. The gesture itself somehow stung more than the actual wound. It had never occurred to her that Alcher would use considerable force on her and it hurt more than she anticipated. She growled lowly, backing away, but making it clear she wasn’t going to let any further harm come to Adam or Nell. She could hear Adam in the back suggesting retreat and she was thankful for that. The last thing she wanted was for anyone here to die and if they kept going, she knew that’s what the end result would be. 

Alcher seemed to be directing Layla to follow her away. There was no fully relaxing with the energy of Lyssa’s Peak influencing her and though Layla and Alcher were now off in the distance, the wolf in her craved something more. The smell of blood in the air was a bit overwhelming and she honed in on some shuffling in the brush. Without thought, she lunged forward and dug into the rabbit. It wasn’t quite enough to satiate her appetite, but it was enough to take the edge off. A few deep breaths later, she slipped back into her more human looking form. She glanced around the clearing for her abandoned bag and was quick to grab it before slipping into the quarry. 

“We need to patch both of you up,” she directed as she kept a close ear out for their surroundings, “And I should probably throw on a change of clothes.” She threw on a t-shirt and gym shorts but kept her feet bare as she went over to Adam who had taken a brunt of the beating. She cleaned him up the best she could, but she’d need better lighting if she was going to attempt anything more serious like stitches. “We need to get him back to one of our places. Is your wrist okay?” 

Nell wasn’t sure what to make of the way Adam seemed to crumble in on himself. She’d seen him fight before, watched as he managed to bounce back from shoving his arm down a lamia’s throat. So where was that strength now? Something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite manage to put her finger on it. Retreating wasn’t something that came naturally to Nell, but even she could see that they’d done what they came here to do. Adam was safe if not battered and the same could be said for Ariana. Now what mattered most was getting out of the quarry with their lives so that they might heal. 

While Ariana changed, Nell went to work on Adam as well— recognizing that he was in much more danger than she at the moment, the claw marks running deep and long. Calling on her magic she prioritized the wounds that looked most serious, scabbing them enough to at least staunch the flow of blood loss, but building new flesh to cover them was beyond her abilities. “It’s gonna be okay,” she said almost reflexively, though she wasn’t sure if the words were meant for her friends, herself, or both. Ariana’s question hung in the air as she thought of her wrist for the first time since it had been bitten, and her stomach dropped even further towards the ground beneath her knees as she knelt to continue her healing alongside Ariana’s work. She’d been bitten. Bitten by a werewolf, and that meant— Nell promptly shut the door on that train of thought, refusing to let it hinder her in these moments when what was most important was making sure the three of them were alright. Instead she answered the werewolf’s question with another. “Are you alright?” The last blow the other wolf had gotten in had looked nasty. “Mine’s closest, and I have more healing stuff there, too.”

With the three of them huddled there beyond the shadowing peak of Lyssa, Nell forced herself to focus on what they’d succeeded at for the moment being, knowing this wasn’t the time to be weak with dread. No one was dead. The fight hadn’t been won, and blood had been spilled, but for these few moments they’d managed to stop the cycle of killing, and shoved a wrench into the murderous dance of Hunter and supernatural that had been fought since before either side could remember. So though the day was lost, perhaps they’d won another in its place.

[mythgirlimagines]

Monitoring your every move, ready to strike when least expected, is this week’s talent swap! Introducing Myth, the Former Ultimate Chess Player!

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BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Having an overly analytical mindset ever since she was a child, Myth solved the puzzles she was given quickly and burned through mental stimulation toys like it was nothing. It really put a dent in her parents’ wallet, and they needed to find some way to entertain her daughter before they become flat broke. One day, when Myth and her parents visited the toy store to find a new toy for her, Myth became enticed by the board games section, particularly a chessboard, which her parents managed to buy. Myth picked up on the rules of chess very quickly, and dominated both her parents and older sisters in the game. Eventually Myth signed up for chess clubs and defeated each and everyone of the other participants, and in turn, managed to reach grandmaster rank. One tournament, Myth decided to wear a chess themed dress to throw opponents off and make them underestimate her, before completely decimating them. She is still wearing the dress to this day.

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RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Freelance Artist

Having garnered fame on the internet for her realistic drawings of animal corpses and dinosaur bones, Wyre has been Myth’s friend ever since childhood. In fact, Wyre was the one who came up with the original design for Myth’s dress. Wyre regularly attends Myth’s chess tournaments as a bodyguard of sorts, with Wyre’s intimidating glare and feral personality scaring anyone who decides to toy with their little friend. While Wyre is a great friend and everything, Myth is heavily concerned with her friend’s work schedule and the toll it has on their  mental health and fortitude. 

Outfit: A black ski cap with a skull pin on the front, a black leather vest with a white dragon design on the back over a brown hoodie with bone designs on the sleeves, black fingerless gloves with skull designs, black shorts, socks, shoes, glasses and piercings from original designs.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Grave Digger

Being the daughter of a mortician and a funeral planner, Scar has been interacting with the dead ever since she was a little girl, and is currently working in the funeral home as a grave digger. Being ostracized for both her interest in the dead and her middle school persona, (aka. Death’s Messenger) Scar tried her best to shake the facade, but she can’t help but fall back on that facade. Scar seems to be fully convinced that Myth is some sort of esper, for she managed to uncover her true personality within the first couple minutes of meeting her. ”The Pawn’s Empress” is one of Death’s Messenger’s biggest foes yet.

Outfit: Original outfit but with dirt stained boots and gloves and her funeral home’s logo on the back of her jacket.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Boy Scout

Having collected all of his scout troupe’s merit badges in record time, Fusion currently works on educating younger scouts in getting merit badges and even teaches his fellow con-mates the art of the boy scout. Ever since coming to the Kibo-Con, Fusion has established leadership amongst the younger Ultimates, a bit like a father to the group, and gives them seminars on scouting skills. Myth’s natural genius made her ace Fusion’s seminars with ease. Fusion’s happiness at showing off his knowledge and scouting skills seems to imply a less-than-stellar self-confidence/an inferiority complex.

Outfit: A green visor, a tanned cargo jacket with badges sewn in, bandages wrapped around his hands, a green sash with badges crowded on it, glasses, pants and shoes from original design.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Private Investigator

Despite her lackadaisical and sarcastic attitude off of the job, you would be hard-pressed to find a more capable private investigator. Fusion II claims that she went for a private investigator as her job as opposed to a detective, because she can turn down cases she deems too easy or not worth her time. But Myth eventually realized that underneath Fusion II’s memey, rebellious, and sarcastic demeanor, Fusion II is secretly very insecure about her detective skills, especially after getting an innocent man convicted once. Fusion II is currently working to uncover the mystery that is Myth. 

Outfit: A light blue fedora with a black band and a red rose, a light blue trench coat over a white shirt and a red necktie, a long blue skirt, black and white laced boots, sunglasses from original design. 

Just Anon, Ultimate Toymaker

Famous for his expertly-crafted stuffed rabbits, Janon usually spends all of his time either sleeping or insulting people. Within the first few minutes of meeting Janon, Myth has already uncovered a fear of failure, a perfectionist attitude when it comes to making toys and a soft spot for children, particularly the two Jr. Ultimates that are attending the Kibo-Con with him. Janon is sick and even more tired of Myth constantly exposing him like this. Janon is currently trying to make a voodoo doll of Myth to make her suffer, as revenge for constantly exposing him and making him seem like less of a jerk. 

Outfit: A lazily buttoned up shirt, an untied red tie, a tool belt, a face mask with a “w” mouth and blushy cheeks, pants, boots and hoodie from original design. 

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Seamstress

Famous for being the scion of the ”Spectacular Threads” company, Sparkle is famous for her glittery and elaborate hand-crafted formal wear. While Wyre designed the original design of Myth’s dress, Sparkle was the girl Wyre sent the design to, to get it created, which means Myth and Sparkle go further back than one would expect. Myth knew Sparkle before they both reinvented themselves with new flamboyant personalities, and when Sparkle was just a shy magical girl and theater fanatic. Even as an adult, Myth can still see Sparkle is still the same nerd she was when Myth first met her, deep down. 

Outfit: Same outfit from her original design, but with sewing supplies attached to her clothes.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Ghost Hunter, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Police Officer

Despite their two different talents, Egg and Wet Sock have many things in common, with the biggest similarity between the two being their appearance, their uniforms, and above all, their penchant for cursed comments. Even Myth‘s analytical attitude is no match for the nonsensical and violently cursed comments of the freak duo. It’s very clear that years of dealing with violent criminals and supernatural horrors would take a toll on anybody’s psyche. Even Myth doesn’t want to think about what horrors the two have witnessed within their careers that twisted their minds to such cursed degrees. 

Outfits: Gakurans, police caps, white gloves and a golden badge. Egg has a purple uniform, and Wet Sock has a black uniform, glasses from original design.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Tutor

Despite their age, Curious has college-level academic prowess and uses that knowledge to help tutor students of all ages, and can turn underachievers into overachievers with their infinite patience and flawless study strategies. It didn‘t take much time for Myth to realize one of the main flaws of Curious: their passiveness and willingness to let people walk all over and take advantage them. Myth would often organize tea parties disguised as study sessions to talk to Curious more, for they are basically an open book, despite what their vocal and facial range would suggest.  

Outfit: Hair pulled into a small ponytail, fake glasses, a green vest over a white button up shirt, tie, pants and shoes from original design.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Lifeguard

Originally getting the job purely for some extra pocket money, Nerd quickly rose through the ranks and quickly became an emergency technician for beaches. Nerd’s good looks were seen as both a blessing and a curse by him, for many admirers purposefully drowned themselves, just so Nerd can give them mouth-to-mouth. This, along with poor pay in the early parts of his career, lead to his hostile attitude towards everybody, particularly people with a crush on him or people he has a crush on. Myth told Nerd the truth, and got thrown into the nearest body of water by him, and he didn’t save her. 

Outfit: A tight grey muscle shirt, red swim trunks with black stripes on each side, red flip-flops. 

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Competitive Eater

Despite Eldritch’s small size, Eldritch has an appetite rivaled only by Fusion’s. Eldritch originally entered the competition as a poison tester, in order to prevent the participants from being sabotaged and perhaps murdered, but Eldritch managed to dominate the competitions. Eldritch has now participated in 255 eating competitions all across the country, and even outside of the country. Eldritch seems to be the first person to look past Myth’s little cutesy facade, and seems to want to avoid Myth at all costs, which makes it difficult for Myth to get a read on him. 

Outfit: A purple jersey with “Poison Tester” on the front in yellow letters, dark grey cargo shorts, white socks, black and yellow sneakers. 

Dream Anon, Ultimate Street Artist

Dream is famous for her paintings of rainbow clouds on random buildings and roads. Despite Dream’s rough life on the street, somehow she remains as bright and cheerful as her infamous murals. After being busted by the police for her vandalism, Dream got accepted by the Hope’s Peak scouts, and got to get out of jail, in exchange for food and shelter at her Hope’s Peak dorm room. You will bet that Dream would accept the offer full-heartedly. Myth totally didn’t expect someone as cheerful as Dream to have one of the roughest pre-con lives, but Myth now wants to adopt Dream.

Outfit: Wild hair, a denim jacket stained with paint over a pink shirt, black paint-stained boots, skirt and shorts from original design. 

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Child Prodigy

Having one of the highest IQs for a child her age, Iris already graduated college with several degrees, mostly in science. Iris’s determined attitude and love for learning made many universities consider her for their adorable mascot. While everyone else views Iris as a clumsy and dorky optimist who never gives up when it comes to her work, Myth knows the truth behind Iris. Because of her status as a child prodigy, lots of pressure was put upon her, which only served to arouse her already existing anxiety. From that point onwards, Iris and Myth gather for weekly chess games. 

Outfit: A dark blue sweater over a white sailor uniform with a red tie and skirt, grey stockings, blue Mary Janes, glasses from original design.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Couples Dancer

Growing up in a high-class family that is known for their equally high-class masquerade balls, Purple’s skills on the ballroom dancing floor are unparalleled. Unfortunately off of the dance floor and deprived of her masquerade costume, Purple is superbly timid, regularly staying in her room, until Hope’s Peak accepted her. Purple’s vocabulary is about as elaborate and old-fashioned as her family’s masquerade balls. Luckily Myth is smart enough to understand her vocabulary. Myth is currently working on giving Purple confidence lessons, knowing that it could help her find her chosen one. 

Outfit; Mid-back length hair, a mask that is black on the left and white on the right, a black sunhat, a matching black dress, black gloves, purple heels. 

This series revolves around this enigmatic chess champion exposing people for their emotional problems, while some people (read: Scar and Fusion II) try to find out the secret behind her.

—————————————-—————

PERSONALITY

The best way to describe Chess!Myth would be a more benign version of Celestia, right down to the fashion. She is very intelligent and analytical, which is how she discovered chess in the first place. Myth gets easily bored and needs constant mental stimulation, usually by competing with chess champions or buy simply kicking back and watching people interact. People are unpredictable creatures, after all. But perhaps the most prominent trait about her would probably be her ability to read people like a book. It’s very hard to lie to her face, for she will expose your lies to YOUR face. This helps a lot in chess, but this also makes her a very empathetic and kind-hearted individual. 

——————————————————-

APPEARANCE

Myth wears her purple-dyed hair into twintails with a black and white scrunchie in each, and wears a black crown with red gems embedded into and on it. Myth wears an entirely black and white dress with asymmetrically-colored sleeves and dress tails. On her nails is black polish on her left hand and white polish on her right hand. 

——————————————————-

I hope you like this version of you, Myth! Let me know what you think! See you soon, kiddos!

-Fusion Anon

---

Two things! One, love this!!! Two, when you said “Celestia” I automatically thought of the MLP:FIM character XD I’m so used to calling Celestia Celeste, lol

[blackstonesandtrapnest]

Hi lovely! I believe you follow my QPR Nana fanfic tender rain? Could I please request some Nobu x Reader fluff? Have a lovely day!

OMG hey :D Thanks for stopping by and thanks for the request! ^_^ Go check this lovely lady out on Quotev! Reader is female btw! Sorry it’s too long! It’s under the cut due to the length!

~~Birthday Relaxation~~

Working 12 hour night shifts in a factory was quite exhausting and taking its toll on Y/N. But just because she was the girlfriend of a rockstar didn’t mean that she was a gold digger. While she definitely appreciated her boyfriend Nobu’s offer to help her pay for college and most other basic necessities since BLAST’s debut turned out be a raging success, Y/N preferred to pay her own way hence why she was currently working in a factory. Luckily her schedule was planned around her studies and her parents still sent her money every month as long as she kept her grades up so everything was pretty excellent on her end.

Right now, Y/N was currently asleep in Nobu’s apartment wearing some rather....interesting pajamas that she had decided to buy when she got paid last week. Y/N had the weekend off and it wasn’t just any weekend. It was her 25th birthday and to celebrate, she had decided to spend the weekend at Nobu’s place like they planned. However said boyfriend wasn’t present at the moment since he had attended a party with BLAST last night after another big concert which Y/N couldn’t attend due to being at work but she definitely got some pics and texts from everyone alongside birthday wishes which made her shift a lot less boring and more eventful!

Y/N felt the bed shift and warm arms wrapping around her which made her coo and smile. “Hung over I assume?” She giggled at the look on Nobu’s face as she spoke. “No Y/N I’m not hung over. Well at least not anymore. Did you come straight here after you got off from work? Now I feel like crap for not being here.”

“It’s ok Nobu. You’re here now and that’s what matters. We have an entire weekend to spend together remember?”

“Happy birthday Y/N. I’m gonna make this the best birthday you’ve ever had! Starting with your present! A gift from BLAST to you!” Nobu also had secretly planned to take her to dinner at a fancy restaurant where the others would be waiting for them but it was obviously a surprise.

Nobu picked up a rather long box that he had hidden underneath his bed and gave it to Y/N. “We all pitched in for this but it was mostly my idea so feel free to thank only me!”

“Shut up you dork! I’m thanking all four of you when we go out for dinner later on!”

Y/N opened up the box and gasped at what she saw. The box contained a gorgeous black leather jacket and pants complete with skull earrings and a matching necklace. “What in the world Nobu?! It’s beautiful!”

“Look and see what’s on the back of the jacket.”

Picking up the jacket and turning it around, Y/N saw that it had her name on the back of it along with her birthday. With tears leaking from her eyes at this point, she launched herself at Nobu and hugged him tightly, peppering his face with kisses. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome Y/N! I love you too!” Nobu laughed as he returned the hug and kisses with just as much enthusiasm and love. Eventually breaking apart from her boyfriend, Y/N hopped out of the bed with her gift in hand and Nobu sputtered when he saw her pajamas.

“Wait a minute! When did you start wearing stuff like that?! Not that I’m complaining of course!”

“You’re just now noticing my pajamas Nobu? I bought these last week when I got paid. I assume you like them? Good cause I got even more of these!”

Taking off her pajamas, Y/N slipped on her new outfit (not caring that she didn’t have a shirt or bra on) and twirled around, showing how well it fit her body. Striking a sexy pose, Y/N gave Nobu a sultry wink. The poor boy looked like he had seen a ghost and was as red as a beet. His reaction was nothing short of priceless.

“Put a shirt on Y/N!”

“Nope! I wanna make you suffer some more! Do you like what you see?”

“Yes now cut it out! If you keep that up, then your birthday will be ruined!”

“Ruined how? Nobuo what are you hiding?”

“I’m not telling you! Put on a shirt so we can go! You’re not spending your birthday all cooped up in here!”

Not feeling like interrogating her boyfriend, Y/N put on a black crop top that clung to her body and zipped up her jacket before putting on her boots. Nobu snuck up behind her and wrapped a blindfold around her head which made her jump and tense up. “Sorry Y/N but I gotta do this. Can’t spoil your surprise now can I? Just trust me. You’ll love it.”

This was gonna be one hell of a birthday.

[tev-the-random]

Je t’aime

(Another Miraculous One Shot, because yeah.)

Oh man, it’s been so long since I wrote so much, I’m happy! Anyways, enjoy the angsty Lukanette I thought about when I was wondering what tearjerker scenarios I could come up with.

Also on AO3!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was supposed to be just another normal day.

Of course, the concept of a normal day in Paris was very different from other places. If you take into account the magical terrorist attacks that happened every twice a week – sometimes more, sometimes less. Usually more, because the universe is apparently an ascending comedian with quite the twisted sense of humour – and the (also magic) superheroes that swung around the city in an almost daily basis, Paris was pretty far from ever being normal. But honestly, you get used to it; you have to, unless you want the aforementioned magical terrorist to target you and your fear.

Sometimes people do fall victim to their own negative emotions, however. That’s when the akumas happen. That’s when Ladybug and Chat Noir enter the scene. They were the superheroes, the dynamic duo responsible for stopping super-villains, re-establishing peace across Paris and, occasionally, fixing some major security issues – crazy hero wannabes included. They were powerful, strong, invincible, miraculous…

And Luka was just a guy on a bike. So obviously, he chose to stay out of the way once the latest akuma decided to wreak havoc on the streets. A quick detour from the centre of things should keep him out of trouble, right? But then, the “quick detour” ended up becoming a gigantic detour as the fight of the day heated up, and he couldn’t keep much further away unless he left Paris. You see, battling six versions of the same akuma took a much larger area than battling just one. It’s only reasonable that Ladybug and Chat Noir used a lot of space to take on six versions each.

That sure was a harsh battle.

Luka was once magic too. He got to be magic a few times, actually. As Viperion, he had the ability to call for a Second Chance. A powerful ability, he might add; one that, albeit very useful, demanded its bearer to be wise. So even if circumstances might never allow him to become Viperion again, Luka felt honoured that Ladybug deemed him the right person for the job. He was glad he got to be a superhero.

But right now, he was just a guy on a bike. And there was only so much he could do to help – or rather, there was only so much he could do to not make matters worse, and not throwing himself in harm’s way without a miraculous felt like a great starter.

There was a loud “crash” sound in the distance, followed by the quake of the floor and the screams of people. The centre of Paris was engulfed by light and filled with smoke that spread to the outskirts of the city.

Luka was all but hoping Ladybug and Chat Noir were alright; he was all but praying his loved ones were alright.

The akuma’s name was Truth Digger. Whether it was a reporter desperate for a scoop or a person who had been lied to one too many times, Luka didn’t know. What he did know, however, was that the truth had many versions, and so did Truth Digger. And at the moment, all of those versions seemed set on uncovering people’s secrets, be it by stripping them of their disguises or by making them spill everything they previously kept to themselves; the akuma also seemed to have a knack for destroying things with what appeared to be a sword-like pencil – that wasn’t exactly the weirdest thing Parisians had seen so far, to be honest.

To fight an akuma worth twelve villains – unbeknownst to him, there were now sixteen of them – without ever being touched and having their identities revealed was a challenge Ladybug and Chat Noir hadn’t faced yet. It’s not that he didn’t believe in their saviours, but Luka had seen it before: Paris’ favourite superheroes, despite all of their might, were only human. They had feelings the young musician could translate into a more than a little chaotic melody.

Maybe they were invincible. But that didn’t mean they never felt the toll of it. So Luka wished the battle ended soon; if not for Parisians’ sake, then for their heroes’. And the universe had better keep its jokes to itself for another week, otherwise he’d be having a strongly worded conversation with it.

The blue-haired boy got off his bike and peered at his surroundings. He was in a more deserted part of the city now; there was nobody around except for him. Smoke and dust filled the air like a faint mist and the floor still rumbled from impacts far away. A flock of pigeons passed him by, trying to escape the noise, for even pigeons knew how to identify a threat. The wind made an eerie sound as it hit the dirty graffiti-filled walls, like it rehearsed to be the symphony of disaster.

Luka ignored the ominous atmosphere. He was fairly sure he would reach the Seine if he took a series of turns starting with the third street to the right. He would probably reach the Liberty before dusk and, if he dared be so hopeful, the akuma attack would also be over until then.

The boy was about to hop on his bicycle again and head off, but something made him stop. It wasn’t the tremors of the floor nor was it the pigeons or the wind. It sounded like footsteps. Very slow and dragging footsteps, accompanied by panting.

Despite his better judgement, Luka decided to put his bike aside and follow the noise before it died out in the distance. Of course, it could pretty much be a deadly trap – that was another thing you learned with time: you have to be careful with your surroundings, for even little butterflies held an unbelievable amount of danger in Paris –, but it could also be someone in need of help. Maybe he wasn’t a superhero right now, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t pay assistance if he could.

His own steps echoed along with the wind, and the boy hurried through the streets he barely knew how to navigate, his tuned ear guiding his way. Then he saw it: a short figure walked down an alleyway a few meters away. It stumbled about in a weak manner, each breath it took sounding extremely agonizing. It groaned in pain, and Luka quickened his pace as he heard a loud thud. He only stopped in his tracks once he looked at the path the stranger had walked on– it looked like sheet music written in red. Bloody footprints stained the floor; bloody hand marks stained the walls; there were splotches of blood here and there, and it all went on and on in what seemed to be an endless trail leading to wherever that person had come from. It looked like a horror movie scene.

A chill made its way up Luka’s back, and he was starting to doubt his ability to help out.

There in the alleyway, the person lied on the floor, bleeding out and quivering. The torn dark jacket went up and down slowly under the painful, deep breathing. Their pink jeans and once-white flowery shirt were stained red everywhere. Their dark hair was hanging loosely from two messy pigtails, and bluebell eyes struggled to stay open.

It hit him.

This wasn’t just a random horror movie Juleka put on to try and scare him. This was a nightmare. A true nightmare. It had to be a nightmare…

The floor seemed to have disappeared under Luka’s feet, yet somehow he managed to trip his way over to her. There was such a major tug in his heart he actually felt like someone had pulled it out of his chest and stepped on it. Had he noticed he stopped breathing, he’d be gasping desperately for air. How does one keep level-headed again? Is it possible for a human mouth to go this dry?

However Luka imagined his “normal day” would go, it surely never included a bleeding-to-death Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

‘Marinette!’ he called. His hands were shaking, yet he touched her shoulder with most delicacy ‘Marinette, do you hear me?’

She responded with a low groan. Or maybe it was actually a mumble and Luka’s usual mumble translator was just broken under the panic that filled his mind. In anyway, he turned her around so she’d face up.

‘Can you understand me? Are you awake?’ He tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. His hands immediately went to her sides to try and stop the bleeding; he soon found that she had already tried to take care of that. Despite it being soaked with blood, Luka recognized the beautifully patterned cotton scarf Juleka had on earlier that day. She did say she was going to give it back to Marinette at school.

Oh God, was Juleka ok?

‘Hey, Marinette! Talk to me!’ he called again, undoing the weak knot on her improvised bandages and tying it again more firmly. He could feel the deep, wide wound under it, and was quite sure skin and muscle were not the only things that were damaged.

‘Chat… Noir…’ Marinette murmured closing her eyes.

‘Hey! Marinette, look at me! Right, that’s right- keep your eyes open… What happened?’

While he waited for an answer, Luka reached for his phone to call for help. He could barely hide his horror and annoyance upon seeing that there was no signal at all – the absolute perks of destructive akumas doing their thing, he thought with sarcasm.

The building anxiety he felt did Luka no good when he got up and felt his legs falter under his weight. He left the alleyway, looked around down the dust-filled streets. There was no one in sight, and half the windows of every house were shut tight; the other half was wide open to completely empty places. Luka wouldn’t discard the possibility of the akuma having wiped out the area of its residents.

The blue-haired boy went back to the girl in pigtails. He unconsciously reached for a guitar he didn’t have on him in an attempt to calm himself. In the brief seconds of silence that followed, Marinette blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the blurry in her vision.

‘Luka…?’

‘Yeah,’ said Luka, relieved she was conscious enough to recognize people ‘Yeah, it’s me. Don’t worry, we’ll get you some help…’

He wasn’t so sure, and he could hear it in his own voice. Mixed thoughts of fear and coldness swirled in his mind like ink on water. All Luka had were his bicycle – his guitar was in its basket, although he wouldn’t remember that – and his phone with no signal while a devastating akuma battle went on not far from them. He couldn’t call for help, but he couldn’t just leave Marinette there, either; he couldn’t possibly balance her on his bicycle in the state she was and, despite considering himself strong enough to carry the girl, he would be too slow to take her anywhere before it was too late.

Meditation never prepared him for this! Oh God, what should he do?!

‘W-we’re going to get you help, we’ll- I will-‘

‘Luka,’ Marinette cried hoarsely, and the boy was startled at her firm tone ‘The akuma...’

She held his wrist – cold. Her fingers were horribly cold – and pulled it closer. Luka soon understood she was asking him to take whatever she had secured in her firmly closed hand. He held his palm open, and she dropped something on it.

Her earrings.

… Of course.

‘Don’t let them take it,’ Marinette said without taking her eyes off the jewels. Her breathing increased again, raspy against her throat. ‘Whatever you do, don’t let the akuma have it! Keep it safe, they can’t- you can’t let them-!’

‘I won’t,’ Luka reassured her, pointedly putting the pieces of jewellery inside the inner pocket of his jacket. ‘They’re safe with me, ok?’

‘Don’t let them even know you have it!’ she added as if his statement only worsened her worry ‘I-I don’t want them to hurt you!’

‘Marinette…’

‘They’ll be coming for the earrings, and then it’ll be the end! The end of everything!’ She winced at that ‘All because I couldn’t protect- I’m- they’ll finish me off and all I’ve ever done was-‘

‘Marinette,’ Luka intervened in a firm yet soothing tone. To keep that tone when he actually felt like yelling had to be a talent. ‘I promise I’ll keep your earrings safe. They are safe. You are safe.’

‘Am I…?’ Marinette’s voice went suddenly so quiet and yet so anxious, Luka felt another tug in his heart.

The more he looked at her, the more painful it felt. She was pale – not like paper or chalk, but rather in a very ghost-like manner, especially in contrast with the strong red tinge of blood streaming down her lips. There were bruises everywhere on her visible skin and a particularly bad-looking black mark under her right eye; there was a trail of dry blood going down her neck from her dilacerated ears – those earrings certainly weren’t taken off the way they should. Her eyes had lost their usual brightness; they looked tired, afraid… but there was still something in there that could only ever be found in Marinette’s eyes.

Really, was she safe?

Luka noticed that the designer girl still had his wrist in her increasingly weak grip.

He held her hand.

‘You are’ He put on the softest, most tranquilizing smile he could manage. ‘You’re safe and nobody will hurt you… see?’ He squeezed her hand gently ‘I’m here.’

Marinette watched him for a moment and opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something, maybe force a smile or fake a soft giggle. She gave his hand a trembling squeeze in return.

‘I failed,’ she stated weakly.

‘No, you didn’t…’

‘I did. And I don’t want them to die because of that. I don’t want Chat to die because of that, I don’t want you to die because of that…’

Marinette’s eyes filled with tears. Luka was at a loss for words. He wished he could play her something to make her happy. But he couldn’t.

‘Luka…’ she choked ‘I don’t want to die…’

Marinette placed her free hand on her injured torso, seemingly ignorant of the pain that shot through her entire body; or perhaps too aware of it.

‘I don’t want to die! I don’t want to-!’

Keeping a soothing smile – a smile he was so used to keeping – seemed like a nearly impossible task. Maybe because he couldn’t bear seeing her distressed, maybe because he knew why she was saying that, despite how untrue he wanted it to be.

Luka lifted the girl up as delicately as he could and shifted so she would be laying on his lap, cradled in his arms, head against his chest and her hand on his.

‘I know. It’s alright, Marinette,’ he murmured ‘I’m here. I’m here with you. It's alright…’

Marinette didn’t sob. She didn’t have enough strength in her to do so. There was just the harsh breathing and the slow stream of tears. Something inside Luka completely shattered, and he felt tears well in his own eyes.

When was it that he last cried? Truly cried? He had a very faint memory of a day in the park, when he had fallen from a tree and broken his arm. He and Juleka were only kids back then, yet he remembered the tears only went on for a short while before he was smiling again; because, to Luka, his pain meant way less than seeing his sister panic for him. He knew Marinette was just the same.

‘I don’t want to go.’

‘You’re here right now, aren’t you? And I’m here with you. We’re both here, you see?’

She was simply the sweetest melody Luka had ever heard. She was the kind of person who would put others before herself and put herself in others’ place, even if it meant lowering her own volume.

She fumbled with her words and actions in a way that made for a very confusing set of notes, but she never meant anyone any harm.

She would try to do everything and a little more in order make the most of herself every day, which often sent her mental state for a worrisome crescendo. But she never backed down.

She was brave, but not fearless. And she was smart. And just. And funny. And kind. And sincere. She surely was a little miracle of her own, and there was so much she could still do…

The truth is that Marinette was powerful. She was strong. But she was not invincible.

Luka felt helpless. Hopeless. Death wasn’t something he was afraid of, neither were loneliness or silence. But his melody was fading away and the silence she left was the deadliest he’s ever heard.

And there was nothing he could do.

‘I love you,’ he whispered.

It was a simple thing, and one he was so sure of, he almost felt selfish for letting her know now. It sounded like something he’d played for her before, albeit not with those exact same lyrics; those simple three words that didn’t really mean much more than what he had already said.

Luka was bad with words. So he played. And with so many options to take, “I love you” was the song he decided to go with.

He didn’t really expect Marinette to make it a duet:

‘I love you, too.’

He locked his gaze in her bluebell eyes. She looked at him with sincerity, even if between the tears that were still lingering from her lashes.

He wanted to be happy. He really did. Because in normal circumstances, he would be so, so happy. But then again, it would have been so much better had she never said anything, if it meant he could see her well. Ups and downs and well. Away from him, if she wanted, but well.

If there was ever a moment Luka wished to use a Second Chance, that moment was right now. But if he had the chance to be magic once again, could he have stopped it all before things got out of hand? If she allowed him to have a miraculous again, could he have been of use? Ladybug was the true heroine, not him. He was just a guy in a nightmare.

He should be wiser than that, shouldn’t he? He should be better than that, shouldn’t he? He should have helped her out, shouldn’t he?

‘Luka?’

It was her whisper that brought him back. She still looked at him, her eyes going in and out of focus. There was still something in there that he could only ever find in Marinette’s eyes, and Luka was afraid he was going to be the last one to see it. It didn’t feel fair.

He breathed deeply and gave her a gentle smile. He was a professional at that, even if his smile was a bit quivering, a bit sad. It didn’t matter. With his free hand, he brushed her bangs out of the way and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

‘You did really well, Marinette,’ he said.

Luka didn’t dare look at the girl anymore. He only held her and pressed her head against his chest, a soft hand on her hair. He could feel her smile for a second as her breathing quieted out and her grip on his hand became weaker, limp. As her melody came to a close.

It didn’t even get to be a full minute.

And Luka was left in the silence.

[rapeculturerealities]

Unlike women, who are encouraged to foster deep platonic intimacy from a young age, American men—with their puffed up chests, fist bumps, and awkward side hugs—grow up believing that they should not only behave like stoic robots in front of other men, but that women are the only people they are allowed to turn to for emotional support—if anyone at all. And as modern relationships continue to put pressure on "the one" to be The Only One(where men cast their wives and girlfriends to play best friend, lover, career advisor, stylist, social secretary, emotional cheerleader, mom—to him, their future kids, or both—and eventually, on-call therapist minus the $200/hour fee), this form of emotional gold digging is not only detrimental to men, it's exhausting an entire generation of women.

The idea of an “emotional gold digger” was first touched on in 2016 by writer Erin Rodgers with a tweet that continues to be re-posted on social media—both by women who married self-described feminist men, and by those with more conservative husbands. It has gained more traction recently as women, feeling increasingly burdened by unpaid emotional labor, have wised up to the toll of toxic masculinity, which keeps men isolated and incapable of leaning on each other. Across the spectrum, women seem to be complaining about the same thing: While they read countless self-help books, listen to podcasts, seek out career advisors, turn to female friends for advice and support, or spend a small fortune on therapists to deal with old wounds and current problems, the men in their lives simply rely on them.

It’s for this reason that artist Lindsay Johnson jokingly calls herself everyone’s “Beck and Call Girl.” Not only does she take care of her husband and children, she just moved in with her mom to take care of her as well, because she knows her brothers won’t. Both recently divorced, her brothers are already turning to her (but never to each other) to provide the support their wives used to.

“Men drain the emotional life out of women,” says the 41-year-old, who lives in Nashville, Tennessee. “I love ‘em, but good lord, they’ve become the bane of my existence.” Johnson admits she enables her brothers by saying yes all the time—partly out of guilt, but also partly because she loves being needed—“to feel important,” Johnson explains. “It’s a catch 22, eventually it becomes too much and I end up exhausted and resentful.”

Like Johnson, most of the women I spoke to for this piece believe that their ego and self-worth are often wrapped up in being a man’s crutch. But the older women get, the less willing they seem to be a man’s everything—not only because we become more confident, wise, and, well, tired with age, but because our responsibilities pile up with each passing year. All the retired women I know are busier than ever, taking care of spouses, ailing friends, grandchildren, and parents, then doing some volunteering on the side. Meanwhile, things only get worse for women’s aging partners.

read more

[hockey-yesplease]

Pre-med 3/?

Warnings: None

Mentions other Dallas players

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken like a year for me to come back to, school has taken up so much time for me I haven’t had time to do much of anything else. But here is part 3 and I hope all of you guys enjoy it!

Word count: 1578

Gif by: emotionalsupportrookie

After the date with Tyler, you had to move on with the week. Classes had be brutal to say the least and shifts at the hospital were long, but the texts from Tyler had made the week pass by better. Once Friday night came around, you receive a text from him:

Seguin:

Hey babe, are you free tonight?

Doc:

Oh yeah, big plans of cuddling with Auz on the couch. Why? What’s up?

Seguin:

Well, I would like to invite you out with me and some of the guys tonight. Would you be interested?

Doc:

I guess I can postpone cuddling my cat. Where do I meet y’all and what time?

Seguin: 

We’re going to Lizard. I’ll pick you up at 9.

Doc: 

See you then Ty.

Seeing as it was only 11am, you decided to get some studying done. Classes this semester have been taking a toll on you, so you had some catching up in a class. Three hours later, you had caught up on everything you needed and Auz was at your feet wanting attention so you decide to stop studying and lounge on the couch with him and watch TV. While watching, you ended up falling asleep. When you wake up, you notice that it’s 4pm, so you decide to make some dinner and figure out what to wear for tonight.

After making some tacos and eating, you make your way to your closet. You had one particular dress in mind for tonight, it’s a white mini dress that accentuates your curves just enough, but is still sophisticated paired with black heels. You knew that you would look good and feel good tonight. It’s finally 8pm so you decide to get ready; after you shower, you go through the usual hair routine and decide to leave it down and with it natural curls. Since you’re not big into makeup, you do some simple eye makeup along with foundation and red lipstick. As you’re finishing up last touches, you hear a knock on the door. Looking at the time you see that it is 8:50pm and figure it’s Tyler, so you run barefoot to the door and open it. Tyler takes a second to look at you, “Wow, you look incredible.” “Thank you Ty. I’m almost ready, I just need to grab my shoes real quick.” “Okay babe, take your time.” You run back to your room and put your shoes on and realize that you didn’t want to carry a clutch so you grab your ID and debit card. “Hey Ty, would you-“ you stop as you see Tyler laying on the floor playing with Auz and it melts your heart some. “Sorry I was distracted” Tyler says as he stands back up. “Oh, I was just going to ask you if you would mind sticking my cards in your wallet so I don’t have to carry a bag tonight.” “Of course babe, but you don’t need your debit card.” “Wait, why not?” Tyler takes a second to look at you seriously “Because you’re going with me and I won’t let you pay.” You start to protest, but you know it won’t do any good and hand him your ID. “Alright, lets go!”

You two arrive at Lizard and walk in. The music is blasting, the smell of alcohol and sweat. Tyler leads you to the VIP section, where you immediately spot Jamie, Ben, John, Jason, and a few others from the team. You internally sigh, because you still don’t understand why Jamie has an issue with you. “Hey guys, this is Y/N” Tyler announces once you approach the area where they are seated. “Hey Chelsea!” You hear most reply back. You notice Jamie doesn’t say anything which makes you upset. He is Tyler’s best friend after all. You can’t seem to figure out why he doesn’t like you. So you make it your mission tonight to figure that out. “Hey Ty, I’m going to grab a drink” you tell him suddenly feeling a little out of place as you look at the other WAGs. “Okay babe, I’ll go with you so they know to put you on my tab.” You really wish he hadn’t said that since you don’t want to look like a gold digger in any sense. As you walk toward the bar, you think about asking Tyler why Jamie seems to not like you, but you hold your tongue and decide to ask Jamie directly a little later. 

A couple drinks and explaining your tattoos later, you decide to hit the dance floor with Tyler following. You can’t decide what is more intoxicating, the alcohol or Tyler’s hands on your waist as you grind and sway back into him. You can’t help but think about the possibilities that could happen tonight when Tyler takes you home, and those thoughts send your mind into a frenzy as Tyler moves his lips to your neck and shoulders to press gentle kisses to the exposed skin. After a few songs you see Jamie sitting by himself at the table so you believe that this is your time. You tell Tyler that you’re going to sit down for a little as he goes to grab drinks. 

You sit across from Jamie when you get to the table, “Jamie, can I ask you a question?” Slowly he looks toward you, “hmm?” “Why don’t you like me? And don’t try to lie and say that you do, because it’s pretty obvious that you don’t.” “So you want the complete truth?” “Of course, I may look like a little girl that can’t take it, but you don’t know my story.” “Okay, Y/N, I think you’re too young. I can’t help but think that you’re dating Tyler for his money or fame or status.” “Jamie, I wish you would’ve just tried to talk to me because you would’ve learned that I’m basically on a full-ride scholarship. I volunteer to better myself for the future. I grew up with the basic necessities. Everything that I have to this day, I had to work for. Yes, I know hockey. But that’s because I played.” Jamie looks at you with shock and confusion on his face. “Yes Jamie, I played from the time I was 5 until I was 18. Me dating Tyler has nothing to do with money, fame, or status. I enjoy spending time with him, and I just hope he feels the same way. Sure, I’m not sure where this will lead to, but I really hope that it leads to more eventually. I knew that if you didn’t like me then there was a possibility that it wouldn’t happen. I want Tyler’s best friend to like me. We don’t have to be friends if you don’t want that, but I felt like you should at least know some of my story.” Jamie is still looking at you with sincerity. “Y/N, I’m truly sorry that I judged you before I got to know you. Even though I only heard part of your past, I can tell that you are level-headed and humble. I’m sorry I let your age bother me so much, you are clearly more mature than most others at your age.” “Jamie, it’s okay, like I said. I just wanted to figure this out. And I want to talk directly instead of going through Tyler because I know things can get lost in relaying thoughts.” Jamie stands up and pulls you into a hug and you can’t help but feel like a little sister to him. “If Tyler does anything to mess this up, I’ll hurt him myself. You’re truly a sweet person.” “Thank you Jamie. That means a lot coming from you.” 

Tyler sees the two of you talking and decides to wait until you’re finished because he had a feeling that you were trying to figure Jamie out. This means a lot to him since Jamie is his best friend and you are trying to become friends with him as well. He sees the two of you hug ands smiles to himself before walking over to the table. “Y/N I got us some waters.” “Thank you Ty. I’m practically dying over here.” The three of you laugh and spend the rest of the night.

A few hours and a lot of laughs later Tyler stands and looks at you, “Babe, you ready to head out?” Smiling you look at him, “I’m ready if you are.” “Okay, Chubbs, we’re out of here. Tell the others we headed out.” Jamie stands and gives Tyler a “bro hug” and gives you a hug with a tight squeeze. “You two drive safe, and you have my number Doc. Call me if he annoys you.” “Har-har, Chubbs.” You and Jamie laugh at Tyler’s fake annoyance.

Once the two of you are outside you can’t help but notice Tyler’s eyes on you. “Ty? What’s wrong?” “Nothing babe, you just look amazing.” He says as he walks closer and puts his hands on your waist and leans down to kiss you. This kiss feels different than the previous ones, this one has passion in it. It almost makes your knees give out. Once you pull apart, Tyler looks at you, “Want to come back to my place for the night?” Taking a second to think about it, you answer and can’t help but wonder what would happen tonight, “Yes, Ty. I’d love that.”

[hellofriendhawke]

No one ever asks me questions so I decided I'm just going to answer all of these Mass Effect Asks by @rock-paperback-scissors

This is Joshua F. Shepard, full Paragon and full of love.

Medigel - How does the character react when someone asks them for help? How do they feel about asking other people for help?

Joshua really likes others asking him, makes him feel relied on and trusted. And he's up for anything that helps the war effort in any way. He's not a big fan of asking for help, and won't if its an issue that will only effect him (nightmares and such), but if it effects others then he will ask for help, but only the people he trusts.

Omnigel - What strategies do they prefer to use when trying to solve problems?

He really likes to think things through, talk before doing anything rash. He's super paragon tbh. He likes to collect all the facts and take everything including his morals into consideration.

Omniblade - How temperamental are they? Do they show their anger or keep it hidden? What’s the fastest way to provoke them? 

Joshua is a super calm dude, he rarely gets angry. He's quicker to get sad than angry. If he does get angry he's not likely to show it (anger causes rash decisions). But he does get angry very fast at racists, he's especially protective of the quarians and krogans.

Ultralight materials - What’s a burden they carry that they wish was lighter?

The death toll of war, all the friends he's let down, having to work with Cerberus, feeling like the entire war effect rests on a thread, asking his friends to work with him on crazy death missions.

Serrice Ice Brandy - What, if anything, is a memory that the character looks back on fondly?  

There's probably a lot of them tbh, but a few would be: all the times he's cooked with his mom before she died, when he met Anderson, almost the entirety of Mass Effect 1.

N7 chestplate - How difficult is it for someone to become close to your character? What (if anything) would someone have to do to earn your character’s trust and respect?

He kind of has two walls? One for strangers, he uses his "Commander Shepard" persona. Then for friends, even close friends, he keeps them from knowing what's bothering him, because he's still their leader and needs to keep up morale. Everyone on the normandy hates this.

N7 helmet - Why did the character choose their current career (and class)? Do they believe it’s the right occupation for them?

Funny thing about Josh is he used to be very anti-military, super against the Alliance, went to rallies and protests. Then Anderson, (who wasn't trying to recruit him just ask him to keep an open mind) told him that he was right about the military for the most part, but if he wanted change he had to make it for himself. So Joshua joined to become the type of soldier he wanted to see and while it's hell, he's glad that he joined, or maybe glad is the wrong word. He doesn't have regrets joining the military. "Had to be me, someone else would have gotten it wrong."

Thermal scope - How does the character go about reading people? Do they take people’s words and actions at face value, or do they tend to dig for other motives?

Joshua is a total digger, never takes anything at face value, not because he lacks trust but because he always wants the big picture so he can make an informed decision.

Prothean relic - How does the character feel towards other species? Do they believe that their own species is exceptional in some way?

He has no special feelings for humans, all aliens are equal to him. Though he does love quarians and krogan (he feels like they get mistreated far too much) he only helps them to even out how discriminated against they are.

Dogtags - How do they want to be remembered?

Joshua doesn't really care if the universe remembers him, he hopes he is seen as good but he knows they'll never have the full picture of him anyways. He just wants his friends to remember him, and to think of him as a decent guy.

[thirdhostage]

Cared for

(( gif not mine ))

(A/n): lowkey hate myself

JACKSEPTICEYE x FEM!READER

Request:  I don't know if you do smut but...Sean (Jack) were you're a youtuber that focuses on more filmy arty type of stuff but you're somehow affiliated with his yt friends? & you've both been kinda flirty between each other for awhile , but recently you've been super tired & sad because you work so hard & there's bad rumours going around about you. So he tries to talk to talk to you but it doesn't work so he starts touching you & he tells you he can look after her tonight? So kinda fluff but still hot?

Warnings: THIS IS NOT SMUT only at the end does it get a bit frisky but no actual sex guys this is PG 13

Listened to: this

_____

“NO.” she screamed as her canvas tumbled to the floor for the ninth time in one set.

(Y/n) crammed both her hands onto her head, tightly gripping her grease slicked locks. They sighed sharply, eyes widening in spite.

Dropping both arms with lame joints, the girl’s head shot back to glare at the roof.

“Lord, go fu--”

Her anxious mumbling was cut off by a stray voice of the opposite gender. It radiated from down the stairs.

“The fuck was that? Ye’ alright, (Y/n)?” it asked. Of course, the voice belonged to none other than Sean.

(Y/n) fought back the urge to cuss him out and yell ‘no’ once more. She instead offered the voice a not-so-convincing ‘yes’ and pushed some hair behind her ears.

“Ugh..” she groaned grossly, smudging around hair grease between her pointer finger and thumb “I need to shower... again..”

The thought seemed to tax (Y/n)’s mind while she hesitantly snatched a towel from her mess of a bed. The (h/c) girl yelled out her door that she was about to shower- informing Sean. Her heavy steps led her to the in suite bathroom.

Her cramped hand shut and locked the door.

Jack, from in the kitchen, was confused and worried. He knew what (Y/n)’s ‘sad’ voice sounded like. And that’s what bothered him; what he heard wasn’t her sad voice..

In the bathroom, the girl stripped and ran the water, slowing stepping under it.

“My camera died, my canvas keeps falling, I haven’t uploaded in weeks- I don’t think I can get this done....” she talked herself out, hands pawing gently at her scalp.

“Maybe I can go on a hiatus.. and like...” biting her tongue and tightening her face- she groaned.

“I don’t fucking know...”

After the events of the shower, (Y/n) stepped out once more.

Tenderly, she placed a towel on her head and was about the begin drying her damp hair... but she was stuck staring at the floor, towel pulling over her face as well.

The soft buzzes of (Y/n)’s phone charmed the hollow sounding bathroom walls. It lulled (Y/n)’s mind into a daze until it was clear her phone wished to be looked at.

Its screen showed off many messages when she finally turned it over. At first from her friends. Mark inviting (Y/n) to a late lunch, Tyler asking how her day was treating her thus far.

You scoffed at the very thought.

Tolling down more, she viewed several twitter notifications. Arguments that were about her.

Snide comments, directed at (Y/n).

Insults, for (Y/n).

Rumours, that centered around (Y/n)..

“Jesus Christ..” she whispered, not being able to tear her eyes away from her phone screen.

From the people on the other side that called her clickbait, for knowing Mark. A fake, for talking to Tyler. A distraction, for laughing with Ethan.

A gold digger, for dating Sean.

“..Jesus Christ.....” she said again, weaker this time.

⟵     🢞   🢞   🢞   🢞   🢞     ⟶

(Y/n) slipped from the bathroom, towel around her neck and clad in nothing but a shirt and underwear.

Did she care? Yes. Should she care? No.

No, they shouldn’t be able to say anything like that. They should be forced to be kinder. No one could be that rude and mean it.

But they had their rights. They had the freedom to express anything they’d like online or in person. They had the choice to be rude or malicious or harmful.

The contradicting thoughts set (Y/n)’s mind ablaze.

The girl fell harshly on her bed. Head aching, eyes aching, chest and back tight. Why?

“(Y/n)?”

Sean’s voice came as a surprise. It’s naturally soft and caring base flooding the room, bringing a quiet warmth.

“Sean?” (Y/n) mocked sadly, (e/c) eyes flushing with salty tears.

The boy gently sat himself next to her on the bed..

“What’s bugging you...” the male pried. He rubbed a reassuring hand along “(Y/n)’s knee “..can I help?”

She shot up wearily, glaring at her boyfriend with a pained expression. Several times, (Y/n) opened and shut her quivering mouth.

“II’m confused... and I’m hurt.” (Y/n) relished bitterly, leaving her mouth hang open at the end- like she had something to defend.

Sean’s eyes hardened with spite then flashed back to understanding; his hand tightened on (Y/n)’s knee a little as he talked.

“Well, maybe if you just.. rest it out. Have a long nap, you know?”

His suggestion was genuine, but the brunette harboured more ideas.

“I can’t do that.” she denied sourly “I have too much pent up energy. If I-I slept, I would wake up exhausted..”

Something about (Y/n)’s oblivious demure costed a wave through Jack’s body. At this moment, it might have been obvious to some others what his intentions were. Not to (Y/n), of course.

Sean took a moment, allowing a smirk to tug at his lips. He dropped it and removed his hand from her.

(Y/n) missed it’s promising warmth.

“(Y/n)...” Sean spoke lowly.

The Irishman, facing the youtuber, leaned in slightly. His eyes drooped to her lap and remained there.

“Can I help?” he opted to repeat his line from earlier.

In a needy fashion, Jack twisted one of his large hands to take (Y/n)’s smaller ones and place them by her sides.

He now would not be able to see she tightly gripping the bed set.

“I’m quite caring if you let me be such...”

Sean’s voice sounded menacing, his accent soundly wrapping each syllable of his enduring speech.

The male’s mouth briefly hovered over her neck, offering it a ghost of a kiss. The simple contact left the girl’s skin feeling overly warm.

“I really can..” the male youtuber continued, placing a similar kiss above the last. He made his tedious way up.

After reaching her jaw, Jack pulled back slowly and passed her conflicted face to attack the opposite side of her neck.

One kiss to slide half way down her tender neck before he bit down painfully slow.

The (e/c) eyed girl froze and consciously compressed her throat. Her hooded eyes blurred for a second.

“Don’t keep your moans from me, love.”

(Y/n) had something to retaliate with, but didn’t care to say it.

“Look, darling, see...” finally the boy leaning back, pushing forth to (Y/n) a blessed smile paired with polite eyes.

In some moment, when (Y/n) peered into his eyes, stress and rapid build up melted like warm wax. Something in her gut fluttered wildly, but something different was beneath it.

“I care about you, deeply,” Sean’s words were more than genuine, honesty bleeding through them.

He loved (Y/n) and had no idea what was going on with her. He knew, he had to do something to make his girlfriend feel better. Otherwise guilt would kill him. 

“So let me care for you.”

_____

(A/n): LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE GUNNA WAKE UP EXHAUSTED EITHER WAY