#she reminds you of them. she's not them. she can't be them.

[shouyuus]

sry sry blame @vifilms for showing me a pic of vi's back and now i can't stop thinking about just... lying behind her, or even sitting over top of her waist, tracing your fingers gently over the shape of her back tattoo as she lies on her stomach, her cheek pillowed over her crossed hands.

"these are beautiful..." you say.

she chuckles, "i guess they are but... i didn't feel beautiful when i got them."

you run your index finger along the light curls of powder blue smoke.

"doesn't make them any less so."

she laughs again, shifting slightly beneath you, letting her eyes fall shut. and as you run your fingers down each of the designs, she begins to talk --

"i had two brothers once, too -- i dunno if i ever told you that."

you shake your head, before realizing that she can't see.

"no, you haven't. i thought powder -- jinx -- was your only sibling."

vi hums, "yeah, we had the same mom and dad but mylo and claggor... they were family too."

your eyes drop to the pair of twin keys notched at the base of her spine, the teeth carved into the shapes -- m and c. you touch them gently and she shivers.

"down in the lanes... family just means the people you watch out for, and the people who watch out for you."

you laugh, walking the tips of your fingers up the length of her spine, tracing the dark cogs that turn against her skin.

"i think that's how family works everywhere, vi. you're born with one... and as you grow up... you can choose another one."

her eye peaks open as she glances at you over her shoulder, her gaze impossibly soft.

"yeah... guess so..." she shifts slightly beneath you as you trace up to the swirls of blue smoke twisting over her shoulders.

"and i'm guessing these are for..."

"jinx," vi answers, her voice faraway, "or i guess... she was still powder to me then."

you draw your fingers along the bends and curves of smoke, before you trace over each of the dark mechanical lines running over her shoulders and down the backs of her arms.

"and... these?"

vi sighs, "those were... reminders, i guess. when i was -- in stillwater... there's only so much you can do to keep yourself sane in there. and... i guess i just wanted a way to prove to myself that i could still... feel something. and..." a small laugh escapes her, "i thought that if i could ink these metal cogs and spires on my skin that maybe... somehow, i could be stronger, harder, less..."

her voice is bone-porcelain thin.

you lean down to press your lips to the nape of her neck.

"breakable?" you offer.

she puffs out a breath.

"stupid, isn't it?"

you kiss down the slopes of her shoulder, ghosting fingers behind the warmth of your lips. you shake your head so she feels you against her.

"not at all."

"and... powder always seemed to love her mechanical toys so much that i thought... well --" her voice shudders for half a second before it breaks, and she clears her throat, turning to bury her face in her arms, sighing into the soft linens of the bed below.

"that maybe... if you made yourself a bit more like them..." you say, pressing your cheek to her bare skin, "that... she might love you like she used to?"

vi makes a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a sigh. she doesn't turn, but her shoulders shrug up ever so slightly as she answers --

"or... forgive me... just a little."

you hum against her skin.

"will it help if i told you that it's not your fault?"

that makes her laugh, and she shifts just enough to peer up at you from beneath her dark lashes.

"it took me a while to get there, but i... i think i've forgiven myself for it... most of it, at least."

you feel her tap your thigh, and you lift up just enough for her to twist around. you grin as she settles you over her hips again, running warm palms along your legs, up to the bend of your waist, a loped grin slung lazily across her lips.

"good," you say, leaning down for a brief kiss. she groans against you, biting down on your lower lip. "anything i can do to help with the rest?" you ask, pulling away just far enough for her to dig her fingertips into the plush of your hips.

vi's eyes flicker, and her smile goes snake-bitten and sweet before she rucks you down over her hips and a gasp stitches out of you.

"sure... i think i've got a few... ideas."

[reikomizuao3]

I prefer multichapter fics because I read too damn fast, lol

both?

My muse and i scream at each other for hours until a chapter gets written. sometimes hours turns into months

mostly in music but sometimes reading other books/fics

I would appreciate more constructive criticism, I don't get very much of it

I am my own beta and it is an extremely important process to me

I prefer third-person narration so that's how all my stories are written

The climax is the best part

I try to comment on every story I read but sometimes I genuinely can't think of anything to say

Nothing came up!

Mama Bear by ArcticVulpix; She's Mine Then by ArcticVulpix; The Liberating Power of Radical Forgiveness by green_carnation_product

Not getting feedback is EXTREMELY UNMOTIVATING. I want to know why people read my stories, I want to know what my readers like and don't like.

writing an idea as soon as it pops up in my head. I have ADHD and am likely to forget the idea within literal seconds

I put myself into the shoes of the characters, I often end up crying

I uh.....have to get off to write smut, and I'm not very good at it

Right now I'm just trying to finish the fics I currently have posted

I like nature, so I tend to go for long walks when I have the opportunity. Mostly just try to get through life until the inspiration strikes again

It depends on the story. most of the time, I'll write a plot summary before the title

"Bad Grandparent Alma Madrigal" and "Alma Madrigal Bashing" kinda go hand in hand together

I noticed that I use Alma from Encanto to vent my anger and trauma from my mother a LOT

I WOULD LOVE TO!! Where oh where are you dear co-author?!?

Incest, pedophilia, rape. Pretty much my worst triggers.

Don't give up, and don't be afraid. There's someone out there who will LOVE your work

I don't think I've ever actually gotten bad writing advice

Bad Miracle. It's an Encanto horror AU, horror is my favorite genre and it's my first time writing a horror story.

Tres Oruguitas. It's my longest fic and I'm currently struggling to finish the final chapter

The actual writing process, lol

Sometimes a sentence, sometimes 3000 words

Refer back to answer 3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO SEE MY ROUGH DRAFTS BUT ME

Depends on the story

TheCuriousCalico (RIP), ArcticVulpix, GamerBearMira

I'm currently working on three different novels

Published and living comfortably

Sometimes people are just fucking evil. Not every villain needs a tragic backstory

Very badly

When it feels right

Sounds fun

I REFUSE

@gamerbearmira has done amazing fanart from my fic Whatever it Takes which really warmed my heart!

I'm ALWAYS rereading fics!

Would You Rather? - With Your Lovely Host, Casita! Yes I would recommend

I don't take joy in it, but it's great for venting

Refer back to answer 6

BOTH!!! MUAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

driven by trauma

it depends, lol

Refer back to answer 6

Block and delete

Tres Orguitas at 87,110 words

Total word count: 170,234

I don't always respond to comments, I'm a low energy potato

50/50 split

finally posting a chapter

I just love Mirabel Madrigal so much, she's my little cinnamon roll

I like using big words, call me pretentious

I edit as I write

Brainstorming

I tell everyone, I'm not ashamed

I was a little starstruck, lol. don't have to be a celebrity to get that out of me XD

cause i like it

I have a love/hate relationship with cliffhangers

When a woman's vagina is referred to as "her sex", I click off IMMEDIATELY

lesbians written correctly

I can't wait to finally write the last chapter of Tres Oruguitas

When people pressure me to update, I remind them that I'm a human being and you cannot force me to write faster. Also I WORK FULL TIME, I barely have time to write fanfic!

I love a good prompt. A couple of my stories are inspired continuations of other fics

listen to music, watch tv, take long walks, read books

I'm not embarrassed of any of my current works, though I do think this fic is the worst: The Accident: Alternate Ending (note: If you've never read 'The Accident' by Diane Hoh, you will not understand the context)

ENTHUSIASTIC AS FAWK

I have several notebooks dedicated to each fic and I will fine comb them before updating my stories (but my ADHD will still scramble things up a bit, lol)

most of the time i write the ending first only for the plot to end up completely different

My love of tormenting the Madrigal family (Encanto has become my vent fic fandom XD)

Does it have the "Alma Madrigal bashing" tag? Do the Madrigals suffer before getting a happy ending?

Currently, this last chapter of Tres Oruguitas is KICKING MAH ASSSSSSS

In Tres Oruguitas, Alma was going to have a brief reunion with the family at Antonio's request, but would have been banished/killed by the miracle

In Tres Oruguitas, Bruno and Alejandro cuddling in the library for the first time. Allow me to sample you a snippet:

Deciding he needed more cuddles by virtue of being adorable, Alejandro lifted Bruno up with ease, causing him to yelp loudly as the floor was suddenly no longer beneath him. Alejandro chuckled, cradling the startled man close to his chest as he settled them down on the couch. Bruno clung to him, face redder than the tomatoes in the garden, and only loosened his grip when he was sure he wasn’t going to fall.

“I-uh—heh. You startled me. Maybe a little warning next time?” Bruno hid his face in the large man’s chest, wondering how they’d gone from discussing books to cuddling on the couch.

“That’s fair. I couldn’t help myself, you’re just so cute, and I wanted to cuddle you forever.” He gave Bruno a gentle squeeze, running a hand through his curls.

“U-um, that’s—wow, you think I’m cute?”

“Yeah, you’re my adorable ratoncito.”

Bruno’s face may as well have been glowing at this point, and he let out an embarrassed squeak. Alejandro cooed at him, giving him another gentle squeeze.

Get to know your fic writer!

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What scene in [Fanfic Name] took the longest to write? What was difficult about it? 

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[authorhjk1]

Hi! It's my first time to use tumblr ask/post functions. I'm glad to see your ideas about colorful dress and SNSD. Here are some Seohyun in this elegant pearl dress you would love.

(181230 SNSD Seohyun at 2018 MBC Drama Awards)  https://kpopping.com/documents/02/4/800/DvryzVOUUAElz74.jpeg?v=593d1  https://kpopping.com/documents/d3/4/800/DvryzVOUYAAImie.jpeg?v=1981c  

Pearl

(Seohyun X Male Reader)

You wake up to your phone ringing. As you reach for it, you glance at the time. Why would someone call you in the middle of the night? You groan in frustration, before answering the call, still half asleep.

"C-Can you come over?"

The woman on the other side of the line sounds desperate. You hear her breath hitch.

You move the phone away from your ear to check the caller ID.

"Seohyun?"

Her answer is a long, drawn out moan.

"What is going on?"

"I can't help it."

She finally responds, her breath heavy.

"For the last five nights I watched our video to get off, but now..."

A disappointed, almost frustrated whine leaves her lips.

"Now I need the real thing again."

You hear her sigh and while she waits for your answer, you also hear her playing with herself. Her fingers seem to move in and out of her pussy, the wet sounds clearly audible when she doesn't speak.

"I was sleeping, Seohyun."

You remind her of the time, but she doesn't listen.

"Please, I'm begging you."

Another moan leaves her lips, before she can continue.

"I came home from this one award show an hour ago and since then I've been playing with myself non stop."

Her whining tone and the mental image of Seohyun getting off to you fucking her for over an hour has your cock hardening.

"I feel like I keep edging myself again and again. But I can't get off properly."

Another loud moan follows her words.

You sigh, slowly getting out of your bed. There's no way you're able to go back to sleep now.

"Send me your address."

After hanging up the phone, you get dressed and get your car keys.

You wait a good minute for her to open the door once you arrive at her place. When she finally does, you are greeted by a mix of elegance and lust. She still seems to be wearing the dress she wore to the award show. But her hair is slightly disheveled and her cheeks are red.

"Why are you still wearing this?"

You question Seohyun as you step into her apartment.

"I can't take it off by myself. An I left early because I couldn't stop thinking about this."

She reaches forward and cups your cock through your pants.

"Didn't you tell me that you aren't a very sexually active person?"

Seohyun shrugs her shoulders.

"Your cock changed that."

You would've laughed if it wasn't for her desperate look.

"Fine. But before I give you what you want, I want to feel those."

You nod towards Seohyun's beautiful mounds, which seem to look even bigger than last time.

"Of course."

She almost moans, before getting on her knees in front of you.

You watch how she looks up at you, teasingly biting her lip. Then, Seohyun pulls down her dress a little and frees her alluring tits. She quickly gets rid off your pants and underwear and leans forward. After gathering a little saliva in her mouth, she lets it dribble off her lips and onto your cock. The sudden warmth almost makes you sigh. Seohyun wraps her boobs around your length and holds them together with her hands.

"Do you like them like this?"

She knows you do. You can only nod in approval when Seohyun starts to move her upper body. Up and down she moves, your now wet cock gliding through the gap between her smooth tits.

After a couple of moments, she lets a second load of saliva fall onto your tip. Her mounds soon spread it all over your length. You can't help but rest a hand on her head, when your knees begin to buckle. You didn't expect this to feel so good.

"Damn, Seohyun."

You groan and she looks up at you with a proud smile playing around her lips. Her tits feel amazing wrapped around your cock. They're soft and smooth, making it easy for her to move along your length.

Soon, she leans down again, but instead of adding more saliva, you feel her tongue dart out to lick your tip.

"Don't."

You hiss, which makes Seohyun do it again immediately.

"You're gonna make me cum soon, if you keep this up"

You warn her, but Seohyun's smile is now mischievous.

"I don't mind. As long as you give me that pounding afterwards."

She adjusts her grip on her tits and lowers her upper body a little. Now, more of your cock appears between her tits, whenever she moves down. You watch her opening her mouth and capturing your tip with her lips.

"Damn it."

You groan, your fingers slightly digging into Seohyun's scalp. The combination of her soft mounds and her luscious lips leaves your head spinning. You should probably be used to this at this point, but you didn't expect Seohyun to be this good. Her tongue dances around your tip, while her lips move up and down, just like her boobs, which are wrapped around most of your cock.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum all over you."

Your grip on her hair tightens, which makes Seohyun lift her head off your dick again. Looking up at you, she gives you her best fuck me face, while her tits keep gliding along your length. Your breath hitches when she applies a little bit more pressure, the friction around your cock suddenly increasing.

You groan, almost in disappointment, when you finally orgasm. On instinct, you pull Seohyun's head back a little to protect her face, which just means that you cover her soft mounds and her collarbone with your cum. It looks amazing on her porcelain like skin as it glistens in the lights of her apartment.

Seohyun lets out a satisfied sigh, feeling the warmth of your semen coat her skin. Your cock between her tits is still hard and you slowly start to thrust in between them.

"How do you want me to fuck you?"

Your question makes the heat rise inside of her. The slight tingle inside her pussy urges her on to jump into action.

"First, get me out of this dress."

Moments later, Seohyun stands completely naked in front of you with her tits and collarbone still covered in your cum. You can't help but marvel at her effortless beauty. When you eventually snap out of it, you remember Seohyun's words from the interview last time.

"Take control."

With two big steps you close the distance between the two of you. Before Seohyun can say something, you push her against the wall behind her. One hand grabs her waist, the other reaches under right thigh, making her lift her leg a little.

"How bad do you want it now?"

You whisper, your lips brushing against hers as Seohyun feels your tip graze her own wet folds.

"Take me until the sun comes up."

While pulling her in, you thrust forward, sliding your cock into her tight wet cavern. Her lower lips desperately grip your cock as it goes deeper into her. Seohyun moans into your mouth, finally feeling your cock stretching her out again.

Soon after you start to fuck her into the wall behind her, her right leg wrapped around your torso, you feel her hands on your back. Her nails dig into your skin and as you make Seohyun moan your name again and again, she scratches at your back, finally releasing all that pent up lust.

[lscullzthegreat]

Headcanon that:

the Fëanorians HATE Beleriand, not its peoples but the land itself. It's too cold and too wet.

Maedhros misses being warm, he misses not being in pain, he misses the quiet steady drama of the court in Valinor, he'd trade anything to deal with pettiness again over the cruelty and death he encounters now.

Maglor misses his language, he's grown to despise Sindran, it feels blunt and obvious, it provides no subtlety, no place to hide poetry in the corners of the words. he can't remember how long has it been since he's heard his real name.

Celegorm misses Orome, it's as simple as that he misses the wild safety of knowing your god loves you, he misses hunting as a form of worship rather than just to survive.

Curufin misses his father father's forge how the fires never went out, he misses the collection of knowledge that had been available to him at home, he misses the ability to be a craftsman, not a sword smith.

Caranthir misses quiet, the peace to read book, to work out a math problem or a technical issue in silence, without it being an emergency or someone breathing down his neck for it.

The Ambrussar miss their mother, they miss her work shop, they miss the safety of her arms, the closest thing they have seen to her face in centuries is their own, they should have listen when she entreated them to stay behind.

But the Nolofinweans oh they love Beleriand. from the moment they saw the first sunrise out on the ice of the Helcaraxë they loved it.

Fingon can feel in his bones he's become who he was always meant to be, he holds his head higher than ever, the cold stinging his nose and the tips of his fingers merely reminds him he is alive and that the sun will always rise again.

Aredhel has more space to roam, to ride to explore than she could ever imagine, the deep forests are hers, the coasts are hers the sky is hers, she is freer than ever before and twice as wild.

Turgon has done more good than he ever thought, with his secret white city, a hidden jewel tucked away in the mountains. He has seen crafts perfected, he has seen healers save lives. He lives in ardent worship of the gift of life.

For the line of Fingolfin is ever destined to rise to occasions where the line of Fëanor falls and fails. They are indomitable even in death, they are hopeful when hope is gone.

[yrlocalwerewolf]

s1 ! vi x reader hcs ! ✩ (MEN DNI.)

this girl is MESSY. books, clothes, alcohol bottles everywhere.

she loves romantic gestures. if she sees anything that reminds her of you, she's getting it. flowers, records, even a rock that looked cool.

she never minds spending money on you, no matter how much you insist on her not doing that. she loves to spoil you.

vi loves date night with you. even though she never dresses up much, she still savours every moment with you.

picks you up all the time. oh you can't reach the top shelf? no problem. she also just feels like it sometimes.

sometimes she'll 'jokingly' ask to benchpress you. if you agree it'll give her a high for the rest of the day. if she can't benchpress you, then she can't. yet.

biggest fattest puppy eyes ever. if she doesn't get her way she uses them.

loves your hands. she loves running her thumb over your knuckles and kissing them, or tracing the lines on your palms.

if you beg her, she'll let you sit in her lap and do her makeup or her nails. does she understand why you like it so much? no, but because it's you she'll do it.

she gets into fights with you, but if you ignore her for more then ten minutes she'll beg for your attention and apologize your ear off. if you can manage to ignore her and her pathetic puppy eyes, that is.

always playing with your hair. she loves to put your face in her lap and running her hands through it.

she's teasing you all the time, no matter what. but if you tell her to stop, she'll listen and back off.

WORSHIPS your body. light kisses here and there, always touching you.

loves giving you hickeys. it's just the best thing ever for her.

she doesn't shower unless you agree with her. she's used to freezing cold water due to the lack of warm water (and water overall) in Zaun, but she slowly gets used to hot water for you.

gets drunk all the time. when she's drunk she's holding you and telling you how much she loves you and how you deserve someone better then her and is just. really emotional.

has tons of nicknames for you. calling you your name is a sin for her.

"hey, darling," "come 'ere, cupcake," "have i ever told you how much i love you, pretty girl?"

it was love at first sight for her <3

a / n : this one was fun to write !!! send requests for who yall want next :3

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 129 (Nancy Landgraab and the SanMy Ballerinas)

Nancy Landgraab loved when Ash was in the city with her family. Where he belonged - if it were up to her, anyway. Her reputation for coldness preceded her, and she used it to her advantage in the cutthroat world of business, but those who managed to get beyond her icy exterior knew a different woman.

Her grandchildren were all but immune to tough judgment from Nancy, and she was thrilled to have them together at the penthouse for Easter. Today, she had both Ash and Bridgette with her to visit one of her pet interests - the SanMy Ballet School at the Performing Arts Centre.

"Pearl said she's even better at ballet than the last time I saw her," chattered Ash from a stool at the back of the room. "I asked if she can do the splits and she said of course she can."

"Most ballerinas are flexible enough to do the splits."

"Can you do the splits, Nan?"

"When I was a ballerina, I could."

"Nan! Nan! I'm a ballerina!" babbled almost four-year-old Bridgette, tearing off her coat to copy the dancers.

(Ash has called her Grandma Nancy before, but since Bridgette started talking, now they both call her Nan. I wanted something different than Grandma since that's what Ash calls Daisy, and I can't believe it took me this long to come up with Nan for Nancy!)

Ash's friend, Pearl, was the best young dancer in her age group, and Nancy had kept an eye on her for years. In her youth, Nancy almost made it herself, but a broken ankle ended her dreams and pushed her to focus on the family business.

Did this leave her bitter? Maybe. But she channeled it into serving on the board of the SanMy Ballet Company, focusing her interests on helping young dancers develop through the connected school.

The older girls were hard at work teaching their students. Elyse Rockwell was a classic beauty, quiet and reserved. She didn't talk much, but she was polite. Nancy liked her.

Natasha Lobo was the girl Nancy thought would drop out of ballet when she was young. She fought struggles at home, she was short, her hips too wide (this chapter is written from Nancy's POV and I disagree but Nancy's a cow), and it took her forever to learn simple grace. But now, Natasha was just as good as Elyse - probably better. Natasha reminded Nancy of herself and she respected her work ethic.

Then there was Sierra Prairies. Oh, Sierra. They could be the best ballerina to ever lace on a pair of slippers, but he insisted on being, well...zirself. Nancy didn't understand Sierra, but she was a good ballerina and great with the younger students.

As practice ended and the girls dispersed, Nancy applauded with a scowl as the girls nervously made their way to the intimidating CEO. "Sierra, we've been over this. Ballet is all about performance, but it's not a clown circus. What are you wearing on your face? And your leotard..."

"It's just animal print, Mrs. Landgraab. How aren't you itching through that drab wool coat?"

"This drab wool cost four-thousand simoleons."

Sierra laughed, unbothered by the wealthy woman's disdain. "You've got to learn to thrift, Mrs. Landgraab. Way better designers at way better prices, just because some rich trendsetter tossed them away when they were ready to spend another four grand on another ugly coat."

"Sierra, maybe don't talk to the school's top donor like that," Elyse suggested carefully. "It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Landgraab."

"I think your coat looks amazing, Mrs. Landgraab. You rock whatever you wear." Toddler Bridgette grinned up at Natasha, pulling at her tights until the blonde picked her up with a smile. "Your granddaughter's getting big. She'll be with us at the school in no time."

Sierra cleared her throat. "Suck up," she said, pretending to cough. "Tash, you're pretty, but you're so obvious. She comes in to see random practices over Easter break! She already cares about the school."

"Sierra Prairies, bite your tongue. Flattery will get you anywhere." Nancy smiled warmly at Natasha. She wasn't sucking up for the sake of the school, but herself. If students wanted to be considered for the company after they'd finished their training, Nancy was the SanMy Ballet Company's most influential board member.

She introduced her grandson as a friend of Pearl Richards, the school's prize student, forgetting entirely that Ash's cousin, Tetra Bell, had recently enrolled.

"Hey Ash," Tetra said, joining the conversation as the girls finished up after class. "My mom says to tell Aunt Heather to plan her wedding to Uncle Conrad already."

Nancy pursed her lips quietly. She was learning to hold her opinion of Ash's mother when her grandson was around.

"There's no time to talk about weddings. I came today to let you know I'm bringing in a film crew next week to show off the new studio. We'll finally be able to get out of this basement that smells like a sewer, and get some great promotion filmed for the school."

"We?"

"Practice before then. Get your spray tans early enough so they're dry when you put on your leotard, dye your roots neon pink if you must, but leave the face stickers at home."

Sierra opened her mouth to protest, but Elyse and Natasha both shushed her.

"I'm asking for one afternoon without stickers on your face, Sierra. I can't imagine they're all that good for your skin, anyway."

Sierra raised her hands apologetically. "I'm joking, Mrs. Landgraab. I can take myself seriously, believe it or not."

"Does that mean you'll show up in a leotard that doesn't look like you stole it from a showgirl in Lucky Palms?"

"What's a showgirl?" Ash wondered innocently.

"It's what your grandmother thinks becomes of every failed ballerina just because she-"

"I didn't fail as a ballerina, Miss Prairies. I broke my ankle and it ended my career."

"It can happen to the best," Elyse said warmly. "We really appreciate everything you do for the school. Even Sierra."

The pink-haired ballerina frowned. "Were you really the best?"

"I could have been big," Nancy admitted proudly as the children began to head home. "Took me a decade to work the ankle back to strength enough just to run on a treadmill."

"Could you still do some moves?"

Nancy shook her head. "Not many. But I still have more grace in my fingertips than any of you."

Easily persuaded, the girls got Nancy out of her expensive coat and into a pair of ballet slippers. She bent and stretched her toes over the polished hardwood, reconnecting with the moves that once flowed through her with as much muscle memory as walking.

She practiced the long forgotten skill as the students packed up to leave, and Elyse kept Bridgette company while Sierra and Natasha goofed off in the corner. Maybe they were showing off for her, which Nancy the board member certainly didn't mind. The company was sorely low on male dancers these days, so Sierra filled the masculine steps while he danced with Natasha.

Sierra whispered something in Natasha's ear with a flirtatious grin. Nancy chuckled to herself, seeing something between the girls that maybe they hadn't even recognized themselves. But they were stealing her thunder.

"Oh, go put that spark inside in a Layla Delarosa book," Nancy laughed. "I'm practicing here." ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Tetra Bell, Ash's cousin and the daughter of Holly and Kris, is literally five years old and should not actually be in this ballet class with these older girls. She's no prodigy like Pearl, but she aged up recently and I wanted her to be here to fill the class and show her off. The other girls in the class besides Pearl are Cristal and Noemi Zest, Nancy's nieces who she ignored.

I made them skill and then got them chatting with Nancy and just kinda let what happened happen before setting up the poses. Sierra really did make Nancy angry before I had Nancy practice ballet, and Elyse spent the most time autonomously chatting with the kids after practice ended. Natasha autonomously picked up Bridgette when she asked and also autonomously sucked up with that hand on chest compliment for Nancy. Natasha skilled up in ballet and fitness the fastest of the three.

A huge, enormous, gargantuan thank you to @changingplumbob for sending me these beautiful sims and letting me play in the sandbox with them and the Ballet mod by @janesimsten! I know @paracosmic-sims created Sierra, @bloomingkyras created Natasha, and Elyse was created by @simmerbeans, and they're all stunning! Thank you! Additionally, thank you @paracosmic-sims for sending me in the direction of some awesome and colourful cc for Sierra, which I love even more because it really blows Nancy's goat!

And an extra shout out to @fallstaticexit's Nancy in The Art of Being Seen. She made Nancy look so good as a teenage ballerina that it altered my head canon for her forever! (But in this timeline, she loves to get freaky with Geoffrey!)

WCIF Poses: Pearl doing the splits is from Child Gymnastics Poses by @flowerchamber. Sierra and Natasha are posed using Ceci's Couples Dance I poses (before cut) and RayGun @rayw05771's Ballet Duet poses (after cut). Bridgette was posed using Toddler Ballet poses by @daisylove126, which are so cute, and since they come with an all-in-one option I just played that through while the other girls skilled and it looked like she was dancing along. My heart!

WCIF cc? Elyse and Natasha's bodysuits and tights come with Jane Simsten's Ballet mod (same for what they wore in yesterday's promo). Sierra is wearing @candysims4's Let It Go bodysuit and Marzmerizingsims' Decora face sticker accessories. In yesterday's promo, she wore @joliebean's Cindy leotard with tights.

[mushgloomz]

Modern Love

dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader

• A/N: you asked and i shall provide. presenting my new magnum opus, dbf!Joel x reader slow burn realness - i want this shit to last, so it will be a series (apologies if you were hoping for a one-off, i can't bring myself to do it). also probs good to mention that this is a shameless self-insert fic bc us british girlies need some JM love okay? title and chapters inspired by 80s songs bc i'm insatiable.

• Warnings: no outbreak au, language, alcohol consumption, pet names, reader is afab, british and has hair - no other physical descriptions (and the british thing is only mentioned in passing dw).

• Word Count: approx 2.5k

1: Let’s Hear It for the Boy

You pottered around the kitchen, the countertops left messy in your wake; you weren’t a baker by any stretch of the imagination, but you’d tasked yourself off with making a birthday cake. If it came out edible, you’d gladly consider it a successful endeavor.

It wasn’t your birthday, nor your father’s - ever since your parents’ divorce and your father’s subsequent mid-life crisis move to the States, you’d lived with your dad in Austin, Texas. Both of you had been there for the best part of six years. You’d visit your mother back in the UK periodically, usually over the summer, and return just in time for the neighbourhood’s favourite celebration: Joel Miller’s birthday BBQ.

Joel and your father had become fast friends; meeting at a trader’s warehouse by chance, and bonding over their appreciation for a cold one in front of the TV. Both men were reserved by nature and were single fathers to their kids - that being yourself and Sarah, Joel’s daughter.

You ducked your head, peeking into the oven to check on the progress of your passion project. Nothing looked burnt as far as you could see and, much to your surprise, a pleasant smell was emanating from the cake tins and wafting around the kitchen.

When your father had asked why you were so insistent on making a cake for his best friend, you fell short of an answer. The reality was that, since you’d known him, Joel had been at the centre of near enough every fantasy you’d had. He was hot, funny, and surprisingly kind given his reputation for being a bit of a grouch.

You’d almost developed a sort of secondary friendship with Joel, branching off from that of him and your father. He’d ask for you to ‘babysit’ Sarah for him, even though she was sixteen and arguably more capable at taking care of herself than you were. A fledgling friendship grew between her and yourself each time you visited; letting her talk about the drama at her highschool.

Another ten minutes passed before you finally conceded and opened the oven door, a waft of steam hitting your face as you did so. From what you could see and smell, the labour of love had been successful. You pulled the tins from the rack, and set them on the side to cool. You’d deal with them later - now, it was time for you to get yourself sorted.

You hopped into the shower, rinsing batter from the ends of your hair, scrubbing at every inch of your body. Despite the painfully obvious fact that Joel Miller was not the kind of man to date someone half his age, you preened and polished yourself until you were silky smooth and quite literally glowing - you opted to live in hope, after all.

After your shower you traipsed into your room, slumping onto your bed, still wrapped in a towel. You scrolled through your phone aimlessly, reading through messages that you'd been sent whilst you'd been distracted by your newfound baking talent.

tell the DILF I say happy birthday ;)

The message from your best friend back in the UK elicited a small laugh. There was something pleasantly nostalgic about tittering over someone entirely unattainable; it reminded you of being back at school, taking it in turns to gush over whatever boyband member took your fancy at the time.

Enjoy the party today, don't make a tit of yourself xx

Your mother knew you all too well. In all fairness, she had dealt with the consequences of your drunken teenage years most of the time, so it made sense. You scrolled through a few more generic messages; the work group-chat, a discount code from some mailing list, and...

Excited to see you kid :)

Oh. Oh. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. Joel was excited to see you. He probably sent the same message to several other people, but you relished in the attention nonetheless. If anything, it spurred you on to finally get dressed and get back to the cake downstairs.

You slipped on a summer dress; it was light and airy, perfect for the brutally hot weather. It was ankle length, a soft pink and white paisley-style print over the soft cotton, and a split to the thigh over the right leg. It hugged where it needed to, and honestly? You looked fucking fantastic.

Trotting down the stairs and back into the kitchen, you groaned under your breath. The mess that you'd made whilst baking was worse when you saw it with fresh eyes. The cakes were cooled now on the wire rack that you had left them on; your dad would just have to dodge the splodges of batter and eggshell scattered across the countertops.

After a futile attempt at decorating, you gazed down at the cake. How you'd managed to cock up the icing this much was beyond you, but it would have to do. Your dad was waiting impatiently by the front door, grumbling under his breath, a six pack of beers and a card tucked under his arm. You grabbed the cake, wrapped it in tinfoil, and headed out, balancing it on a platter as you and your father made the short walk to the Miller household.

It was only a few minutes before you'd arrived, stepping up onto the porch behind your father, allowing him to knock whilst your hands were full. A moment passed, and then the door opened. A wide grin and sparkling brown eyes revealed themselves; a charcoal grey t-shirt clung to tan arms. It took all of your self-restraint to not gawp every time you saw Joel - he just got better and better.

Joel clapped a hand on your father's shoulder, mumbling something and essentially shoving him through the threshold of the door. Then his eyes turned to yours, glancing quickly down at the tinfoil wrapped cake in your hands, before speaking with a chuckle.

"Run outta wrapping paper, huh kid?"

You felt your cheeks warm. "Bold of you to assume this is for you, huh Joel?", you quipped teasingly. Much to your delight, your retort elicited another gravelly chuckle from the man. He leant against the doorframe, and you raised an eyebrow, trying not to stare at his bicep. "Well, are you gonna invite me in?", you questioned with a smirk. Joel stood upright, shrugging playfully as he did so.

"'Spose I'd better. Go on, get your ass inside kid."

The giggle that escaped your mouth was entirely involuntary as you ducked under Joel's arm and into the house. A fair few people were milling around indoors, but a majority of the guests were situated in the backyard. You made your way through the back door after perching the cake on the kitchen table.

A few people turned and gave polite waves when you stepped outside, others started their beeline toward you to exchange mundane pleasantries - ‘you’re looking very well!’, and ‘how’s that job of yours?’, and the dreaded ‘have you found a nice boy yet?’. You rinsed and repeated your answers for each person, smiling politely.

Sarah was sat on the grass with a friend; your father was swigging from a bottle of beer and laughing animatedly amongst a group of middle-aged men. Your heart nearly leapt of your chest when someone tapped you on the shoulder, causing you to spin around quickly, eyes wide. Tommy Miller, Joel’s younger brother, stood with a smug grin plastered over his face.

“Well ain’t this a surprise? Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a drink in your hand at these get-togethers.”

You scoffed, feigning offence at the all too real accusation. “Big talk for a man that isn’t offering to get me a drink”, you retorted, smirking. Tommy threw his hands up, palms toward you in mock defense, laughing.

“Whoa now! I’m a fine southern gentleman, ‘course I’ll get you a drink. All you had to do was ask, doll.”

The conversations you had with Tommy consisted of little more than playful flirting; sometimes you wondered if he was actually flirting with you, but seeing how he acted around women he was actively trying to pick up resolved any doubts. Any fire and sass was quelled, and he would become almost meek and reserved - the embodiment of flushed cheeks and a coy smile. It was nice being able to know where you stood with him, especially since you didn’t have a fucking clue when it came to Joel.

~~~~

As the hours passed and alcohol swilled around the mouths of every adult in sight, the polite affair that was once a celebratory BBQ had devolved into a raucous cacophony of laughter as a very drunk Joel lured everyone inside the house, stumbling as he went. You were drunk, but not to the same degree; with everyone settled inside, you decided it was the ideal moment to bring out the cake.

You peeled the tinfoil from the confection, grimacing slightly as you looked at it once more - even with beer goggles, it still looked akin to a toddler’s cooking class attempt rather than a 50 year old man’s birthday cake. You stuck a single candle in the centre and used the lighter you had stolen from Tommy earlier that afternoon to light it, before lifting it carefully and carrying it toward the lounge.

As you entered you nodded once at your dad, who was just sober enough to understand your signal, and started to lead the group into a pitchy chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’. You grinned as you walked over to where Joel was sat, setting the cake down on the coffee table in front of him before backing up, snapping a photo of the birthday boy as he held a hand to his chest, a soft smile on his face. He looked at you as he leant down to blow out his candle, mouthing ‘thank you’ before blowing out the flame.

“Y’all sure know how to make a man feel like one lucky son of a bitch. Thanks for comin’ everyone.”

Joel chuckled, smiling widely as he spoke. You glanced at the faces around you; the single women of the neighbourhood doting on his every word, a couple of the married ones too. Your dad held up his beer, calling for a cheers. Picking up your own bottle, you held it up in Joel’s direction, beaming at him as others held up their own drinks.

People began to engage in their own conversations again, shifting and mingling amongst themselves as more drinks were poured. Joel sidled up beside you, standing over you as you cut slices of cake.

“You make this yourself, sweetheart? Just for me?”

Heart thumping in your chest, cheeks burning, you nodded with a shy smile. Before you could raise the knife again, a thick finger swept up some of the icing on the cake’s border. You turned around and watched as Joel put the same finger in his mouth, shooting you a wink as he pulled the digit out with a satisfying pop. He leant in close, so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath melding with his cologne.

“Mm. Tastes as good as you look in that pretty lil’ dress.”

Like a fish out of water, your mouth dropped open ever so slightly and you inhaled sharply. Before you could even comprehend what had just happened, Joel had turned away, shouting out to someone setting up karaoke by the television. Did that really just happen? You must have been hearing things, surely? You considered pouring the rest of your drink away, but fuck it; if you were hearing things like that, it would be worth the hangover.

Karaoke was a shambles, as expected. This wasn't the first birthday BBQ that Joel had relished in the karaoke machine being dragged out - despite his usually very collected exterior, he loved to sing, especially once he had a few drinks in him. It was never the song choice you'd expect someone like him to go for either - the man had a soft spot for 80s music and always requested a power ballad.

Perched on the arm of the sofa, you had a front row seat to Joel's latest performance; in fact, you were one of the few people actually paying any attention. It felt like he was singing to you, the way he crooned the words to 'Don't Dream It's Over', his eyes glancing over your form every once in a while. God, he was gorgeous.

The song concluded and you couldn't resist snapping another photo of the man as he took a swig from his bottle in front of you. It was one of the few occasions that you could get away with it, under the guise of taking them for memory's sake. Joel caught you, and smirked as he lowered his bottle.

Your dress had slipped from one of your shoulders a tad, and before you could lift it once more, Joel had stepped forward. He took the soft cotton between his fingers, letting the tips of them graze your shoulder ever so gently as he slowly shifted it back into place. Your eyes were wide, gazing up at him, your tongue swiping over your bottom lip just so. Joel hummed, low and rumbling, barely audible.

"Sweet girl... better keep that tongue in your mouth 'fore I forget who I am."

Swallowing hard, mouth running dry... did he actually just say that? Did he mean to say it in such a sultry tone? "I-I, uh...", your response was unintelligible at best as you stumbled over the flurry of thoughts in your head. The lounge had since cleared out; Joel chuckled softly under his breath. With a tender touch, he raised a hand to your cheek; a calloused thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

Your lips parted slightly as your breath caught in your throat. Every beat of your heart reverberated in your head. Joel leaned down, still smirking, as he pressed his lips against yours. A breathy gasp left your lips as his moved firmly against yours for just a few moments. He pulled away sooner than you had wanted, leaving you sat there with your chest rising and falling heavily.

Joel's jaw clenched and he scrunched his eyes shut as he stood in front of you, dragging a hand down his face with a sigh. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like an apology, shaking his head ever so slightly, before he turned to leave. You watched as he left the room, stomach turning all the while. Nausea rose up inside you, and as you made a sprint for the bathroom, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was your fault he had responded in such a way. Shit.

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 1

Gadriel x Childhood Friend OC

Inspired by @beckyninja ' Titus x Reader fics and @hatsubara-8chan' s Titus x Theia art. Thank you guys for giving me the confidence and inspiration to finally do something with my own oc :)

I know x reader stuff is my forte, but it would mean so much if you guys checked this series out too. It was super fun to write and I think you all will really enjoy it.

As always, apologies for grammar and spelling mistakes. While this part is sfw, some future parts will be nsfw but I'll note that up the top. Typical 40kness and violence, also I've just gone and made up an entire og backstory for Gadriel lol.

Hope you guys enjoy! And thank you so much for reading xoxox

Love, Memestrider :)

Ellicent sobbed into his shoulder, soaking his collar and staining it dark. She'd been like this for ages; she didn't know how many, but it was enough that the grimy windows in front of them had darkened to black slabs with the disappearance of the sun and rolling in of night. She felt embarrassed by it. Ashamed. Kids down here lost their parents all the time, and her Dad had been sick for a long time. Knowing that should've made it easier, but it didn't. Her heart was still shattered. Her soul split in half by a stake of grief and anguish. She sobbed like a baby. Like a weak thing that the Underhive should and would eat alive.

But he didn't seem to mind.

His grip was as gentle as it was tight, as if he were trying to wring the sadness from her very being. He stroked her hair, rubbed her back, let her hide her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he said. He'd said it many times before, but this one was no less genuine or earnest. Ellicent's throat ached too much to reply, so she only shook her head.Tentatively, he drew away from her. Not enough to break their embrace all together: just enough so he could look her in the eye.

"You know we have to leave him here, right?"

Swallowing another sob, Ellicent nodded. Down here, there were no medical services or law enforcement to collect the dead: there were only scavengers and cannibals. They'd find her Dad eventually, but if they kept her Dad in here, he might stay safe for a little longer.

"I know," she said. "But... but what about me? I can't- I can't stay here."He answered without hesitation or thought. "You can come stay with me."

"Wha- what?"

"I know Mum will let you. And if she says no, I'll make her. But she won't say no. I know she won't."

A dozen questions sat on Ellicent's tongue, but she was either too tired or too sad to ask. Sinking into his arms again, she wiped her eyes on his shoulder. "Okay."

"It'll be okay, Ellie. I promise, it'll be okay." Ellicent closed her eyes.

"Thank you, Gadriel," she whispered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Remind me," Chairon says, using the box so he could be heard over the rumble of the Thunderhawk. "Which xenos is our target supposedly allied with?"

Gadriel checks the slide of his bolter for the umpteenth time.

"The dark eldar," he replies. "Specifically, the pack that has made this planet their favoured hunting ground."

"What about the necrons?"

"What about them?"

"Did the briefing not state that Severus' gang often makes use of necron technology?"

"It did," Gadriel says. "But that technology is stolen. Pillaged from only the Emperor knows where."

Through the static of the vox, Chairon's scowl sounds particularly vicious. "Damned heretics. Have they no pride or dignity to speak of at all?"

"Of course they don't."

Gadriel looks to his left where Titus sits beside him. Like his and Chairon's, the face of the lieutenant's helm is cast as a mouthless, red eyed glare. Somehow, though, Titus' glare appears even more intimidating.

"Creatures like Severus are among the worst kind of heretic," he says. "Chaos can corrupt the unwilling. Mutancy can affect the innocent. But to work with the alien? To turn one's back on their own species? That is a choice. One that is made willingly, without coercion or subterfuge.

"An uneasy silence settles across the vox. For a long while, the only sound comes from the roar of the Thunderhawk's engine and the collective of the three Astartes' power armour. Eventually, Gadriel is the one to break it by clearing his throat.

"Forgive me for saying so, sir. But, it sounds as if you speak from experience."

Titus turns his head towards Gadriel. The dim bar lights lining the Thunderhawk's interior reflect sharply off the golden laurels welded around his helmet's crown.

"You remain as sharp as ever, brother," the lieutenant remarks. "And you would be right. Severus' gang is not the first group of xenos collaborators I've encountered."

He pauses for a second. "As I said, they are the worst kind of heretic. Worse than political dissenters or atheist zealots. By a long, long way."

Silence falls once more. This time, however, it is morose. Sober. Behind his helmet, Gadriel chews the inside of his cheek in thought. It's a habit he's had ever since he was a boy- one so innate, not even Astartes re-education could snuff it out. He's reviewing the mission briefing in his head. Specifically, the intelligence regarding their target. Archibald Severus- a rogue trader turned planetary crime lord. Typically, such a man would not be a concern for the Astartes- such things were usually handled by the Inquisition alone. But Severus has been particularly problematic; almost all of his people wield necron weaponry and his Drukhari allies have all but brought the planet to its knees. Also, the Ultramarines just so happened to be in the area. Fortunate for the people who live here, though not so much for Severus. The last thought amuses Gadriel enough to make him smile. Yes. Very unfortunate for him indeed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Thunderhawk drops the fireteam amidst the exterior district of a hive city. The street upon which it lands is wide, dusty and long abandoned. Blade and plasma scars line the walls of every surrounding building, reminders of the countless dark eldar attacks the city has endured over Severus' tenure here. The Astartes quite literally hit the ground running. Bolters in hand, their objective's location marker pulsing in the top centre of their heads up displays. The objective in question is a warehouse- once a hangar for Imperial Guard aircraft, now just as abandoned as the rest of the district. Severus will supposedly be there, though the exact reasons why are unknown. But that doesn't matter to Gadriel. If the man is there, he will die. As surely as the blood of the Primarch flows through Gadriel's veins, that traitorous xenos-sellout will die.

The warehouse in question emerges from around the next street corner. It looks like a giant concrete brick dropped in the middle of the district block. Gadriel falls in behind his brothers, covering the rear while Titus leads the way and Chairon covers their flanks from the centre. But the area is empty. As if the entire district had been evacuated or disappeared. Considering what this place has endured over the last several years, that is probably not far from the truth.

"Gadriel," Titus says over the vox, breaking Gadriel's reverie. "Auspex."

The team halts against a nearby wall. The warehouse is now directly in front of them. Moving in perfect unison, Gadriel switches position with Chairon. He sidles up beside Titus, takes one hand off his bolter to extract the Auspex scanner clasped to his belt. He holds the device up and studies the screen for several seconds.

"Motion detected," he reports. "Ten hostiles, one hundred and fifty metres ahead. Baseline, by the sizes of the pulse."

"One must be Severus," Chairon says.

"Hopefully," Gadriel replies.

"But not certainly," Titus says. The lieutenant says nothing more, but Gadriel hears his unspoken order nonetheless: maintain your guard.

Despite their size and weight, the Astartes move like panthers on the prowl. As it is still light outside, they stick to the shadows where they can. Reaching one of the warehouse's walls, the fireteam lines up, Gadriel in front with time with Titus and Chairon covering him.

"We will breach the wall here," Titus says. "Overwhelm them with speed and surprise."

Chairon and Gadriel both acknowledge the order with a curt "yes sir". Internally, however, Gadriel is somewhat amused by Titus' choice in tactics. *One would be forgiven for thinking we were White Scars. All we're missing are the jet bikes.*

Chairon moves in between his brothers. He holster his bolter to his hip before reaching for his belt and extracting a fist-sized breaching charge. He plants the explosive on the wall, primes it with a button press, then motions for Titus and Gadriel to stand clear. Gadriel crouches down on one knee. His secondary heart joins his primary in beating, flooding his body with adrenaline. He looks between his brothers. Both give him nods of acknowledgement. Chairon touches his forearm, ready to activate the charge. As his fingertip brushes the button, however, Gadriel's Auspex let's out a chime.

"Hold," Gadriel says before pulling up the scanner. He furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

"What is it?" Titus asks.

"The Auspex has changed. All but one of the pulses have vanished."

"Vanished?" Chairon asks.

"That's what I said."

"But how?"

"I do not know."

"It matters not," Titus growls. "Chairon, blow the charge n-"

Before he can finish giving the order, the wall explodes on its own.

The shockwave slams into Gadriel with the force of a meteorite. It throws him backward, knocking him off his feet, sending him rolling over his side before landing on flat on his front. All three of his lungs are emptied of air and his ears ring as if glass were being shattered inside his skull. Gadriel ignores it all. Recovering his footing with staggering ease before raising his bolter in the direction of the enemy.

Only he can see nothing. Just the charred concrete debris at his feet and a wall of thick black smoke. Even through his helmet's filters, the smell of it is choking. Like the polluted air of an Underhive amplified and condensed. Gadriel clenches his jaw.

A gas grenade. Only it exploded with the force of a breaching charge.

It has to be Severus. He must have known they were coming, that they were there. Gadriel curses to himself.

We were too loud. Too forward. Not cautious enough...

"Brothers! Status!" Titus' voice crackles over the vox. Gadriel whips around to try and find the lieutenant, but the damned smoke is too opaque. "Alive and unharmed," Gadriel hisses. "But can't see a damn thing."

"Acknowledged." By contrast, Titus' voice is calm and level. "Chairon? What's your status?"

No reply. A fury like fire ignites in Gadriel's chest. "Brother!" he shouts. "Are you there? Tell us where you are!"

A flash of light catches his peripheral vision. Gadriel spins to face it, snapping his bolter sights up as he does. It's small, but sustained, growing in luminosity with every second. But that isn't what makes Gadriel's breath hitch. It's the colour. A shocking, neon green. Too vivid to be natural, too bright to be electronic.

Gadriel's eyes widen. His thoughts scream a single, terrible name.

Necrons.

With an plasmic screech, the particle beam blazes towards him. It aims for his chest, right over his primary heart. Gadriel manages to twist out of the way in time, but not before the beams edge grazes the top of the aquillia on his breastplate. Gadriel aims his bolter in the direction the green light, only for it to vanish as he opens fire.

"Contact!" he shouts down the vox to Titus. "Necron weaponry confirmed!"

The light reappears on his left. Much closer than before. Gadriel fires upon it and he hears his bolter round sing as they slam into alien metal. He dive-rolls to the side, anticipating another particle beam. But no such shot comes. Instead, the light swells. Growing from a dot to a long, curved streak.

"Throne!" Gadriel hisses. Throwing his bolter into the holster on his thigh, he draws his power sword. Just in time to parry the crackling, green energy blade that comes careening towards his head. Both weapons spark and hiss when they make contact. Faster than a blinking eye, Gadriel surges forwards to slash at the arm holding the necron blade. But his opponent is quicker. Smoke swirling about them, they duck his attack before launching a kick at his knee. Pain spikes through Gadriel's leg and he feels his balance slip. It surprises him. There aren't many things that can kick out an armoured Astartes' knee.

A necron warrior, though, is definately one of them.

The energy blade comes for his head again. Gadriel throws his chin up to avoid it, but in the process looses what little balance he has left. He lands on his back hard, grunting as the last of the air in his lungs is forced out by the impact. In the same instant, his opponent is on top of him. Erupting from the smoke like a daemon from the Warp pinning him down by crouching on his breastplate.

Now close enough to see them through the smoke, Gadriel lays eyes on his attacker for the first time. What he sees, he can only describe as abominable. At first glance, they are human- female, from her shape and build- clad in tattered, studded leather characteristic of those from an Underhive. Her hair is a stunning shade of scarlet and she has it up in a pony tail so long it flows behind her like a cape of ribbons. But that is where all semblance of her humanity ends. Instead of a left arm, she has a robotic appendage, the clawed, green-veined forelimb of a necron warrior, with a green plasma blade bursting from its knuckles. The same is true of her right leg, the foot of which is pressed savagely into Gadriel's chest, strong enough to keep the Astartes pinned. A necron rifle- the source of the particle beams, surely- hangs from a strap looped across her back.

Hatred contorts Gadriel's face into a snarl. Abandoning his power sword he reaches for his bolter, which is still holstered to his thigh. Wrenching the weapon free, he throws it up just as the cyborg-abomination above him raises her energy blade. Her face, too, is twisted into a snarl.

Time suddenly slows. Gadriel's finger stops shy of the trigger.

Her face...

Hatred turns to confusion turn to shock. His thoughts are a racing, jumbled mess. His mouth opens without him realising and he hears his own voice. It speaks a name he hasn't heard in over fifty years.

"... Ellie?"

The cyborg freezes. The snarl on her lips dies.

"G- Gadriel?"

Both of Gadriel's hearts stop. His mind is simultaneously paralysed and raging like a warpstorm. His bolter falls from his hand, clattering off his breastplate to land beside him. Gadriel doesn't even notice.

"Sergeant!" a voice bellows over the vox.

Sparks suddenly burst from the woman's back. As quickly as it had vanished her snarl returns. Leaping off Gadriel, she whips around. Her energy blade retracts into her arm and she reaches for her rifle. Gadriel turns his head to see Titus charging for them with his bolter raised.

The woman hesitates. Glances at Gadriel. Behind his visor, Gadriel meets her gaze. His eyes become wide and watery.

It can't be.

More of Titus' rounds slam into her, this time pinging off her necronian arm. She staggers backward, dropping her rifle so it's swinging limp against her hip. Another moment of hesitation. Gadriel opens his mouth to call her name again. But before the word can leave his lips, she's moving again. Turning her back and vanishing into the smoke screen. When it finally fades, there is no sign of her. Not even a drop of blood.

Gadriel swallow thickly. A lump has formed in his throat, large enough to make it difficult for him to breathe.

"Brother!" Titus clasps his arm, hauling Gadriel up into a sitting position. "Are you alright? Are you wounded?"

Gadriel says nothing. He doesn't remember how to speak. Nor can he even see his brother kneeling beside him. The only thing his mind can see is her. The day her father died. The day on the rooftop. The night they had spent together in her bed.

"Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise."

"I love you."

"I-"

"Brother?" The concern in Titus' voice is palpable now. "Gadriel. Can you hear me?"

Gadriel finally looks at the lieutenant. He nods, but still refuses to speak. He doesn't trust himself to. He's afraid that if he did, he might start to weep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

That's it! I hope you liked it! The first part of any story is always kinda slow, since you gotta set everything up, but I tried my best to keep things moving fast-like.

Thank you again for reading xoxoxoxo

Part 2 will be up in a few days probably. Hopefully I'll see you all then :)

Update: pssst, you can read part 2 here!

Tag list: @yurihasurunbara @beckyninja @nereidof40k @hatsubara-8chan @moodymisty @solspina @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @wolf-feathers12 @egrets-not-regrets

[loveandleases]

Ooooh here's a fun ask, though I think I can guess a few of the roles: if you've seen Leverage, what roles do you think the ROs would take in a heist crew? I feel like Ardent would be the hitter, obviously, and Kara or Isaac would be the grifter. M as the hacker, mayhaps? Cam feels like he'd be a fun thief. I can't really pin G down though...anyway, just thought it'd be a fun thought experiment!

I've not got to watch it yet! It's on the list though. ❤️ Cam - Definitely "The Thief". He will always leave the others on edge though. Cam's eyes tend to be bigger than his belly, so you know he's planning something. He tries to keep it on the down low but he'll end up telling MC/G about it. (And then get yelled at for coming up with such a scheme that could get him caught.)

💙G - Alright, choosing a role for G is a bit hard. I'm thinking the one that fits the most is "The Mastermind". They're pretty methodical, tend to overthink. Would easily have three back up plans in case Cam decides to try something.

💚 Kara - She would like to be a hitter like Ardent, but he refuses to help her. So she would probably flit between a few roles if she can't find one she really likes. Probably joining Isaac, even though she is holding out for punching Arde- I mean, picking up some combat skills.

💛 M - Yeah, Mar is definitely "The Hacker". They already enjoy tech, and they could go on and on about the specs of something. (like talking to Cam about the many cameras he uses.) Probably argues with Ardent about not breaking things he finds on a mission so that M can reverse engineer. (For funsies.)

💜 Isaac - "Grifter" works. Isaac would probably have a few long cons going (gotta keep that influx of cash.) Would likely need someone to remind them to step back sometimes because Isaac can easily go down a rabbit hole.

🖤 Ardent - Oh yeah, 100% "The Hitter". He's been in fights before, and people tend not to mess with. Especially since Ardent is big. Big arms, big thighs, big... Anyways, perfect role for Ardent. I think he would take really well to a form of Martial Arts.

[sharklovingaquarist]

I am genuinely letting myself go insane and I think that's beautiful. I think women are unfathomably restrained when it comes to radiating honest emotion from themselves, contrary to beliefs bloated with male priority and lazy manipulation. That's why there's incredible stigma around passionate mania within women. I abhor how it's portrayed in every bit of manufactured observable material. It's something robotic or devoid of intention. It's one of the most freeing and sentient things the female mind can do. Let yourself become unhinged, let the true soul of a caged human come through. "Male emotional stigma" is a joke in comparison to how women have been treated for their strong, complex emotions. Don't let the pigs we call men manipulate you to crouch on your hands and knees more than they already have. They're like hens who pretend to be hurt in front of predators to protect their chicks. However, their "chicks" are just symbols of their greed. Remind yourself who made you believe you were hysteric for demanding humanity. Remind yourself what procedures they performed on your grandmother when she misbehaved. Shoving needles in our brains then having the audcaity to cry about... how they can't cry? Its all an elaborate show to keep us wiping their ass for them. Prove to them how your crazed fits are indicative of humanity. Take what they have granted themselves. Let your intuition take over and release any thoughts on your mind. Even if it doesn't make sense in the moment, you can always reflect on it. Don't be afraid of touching anything. Speak about what you feel, not what you need to say to appeal.

Anyways love you guys I'm eating Tillamook brownie batter ice cream and it's got me scratching my skin like a crack addict

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Fourteen

*gif not mine. credit to owner*

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice

The office was a comforting quiet, the noises of my keyboard clicking, soft music playing from Bucky’s office, and me humming along to that said music. It was Friday, which meant the end of the week and a nice relaxing weekend in the sightline ahead. I didn’t have much planned, maybe seeing if Bucky would come by for a late night rendezvous but as he mentioned to me countless times, the weekends are harder for him to leave Natasha because she always had something planned for them. 

The jealousy nibbled away at my heart, picturing the two of them getting to do all of these sweet, romantic things out in the open while I was hidden in the darkness, almost forgotten. 

It’s what you signed up for. 

Shaking the thought from my mind, I forced myself to focus on my work. 

“Where the fuck is he?!”

I glanced over the top of my computer screen and saw a very angry Clint Barton barging his way into the building, making a straight line towards Bucky’s office. 

Bucky was on the phone, unable to deal with Clint, so I quickly stood and shut his door. 

“He’s busy,” I told Clint, blocking his path from Bucky. 

“This doesn’t concern you,” Clint stated. 

He tried to walk around me but I was a tad bit faster, blocking his path again. 

“You can come back when Bucky has time to see you. Make an appointment.” 

Clint’s jaw clenched. “Barnes didn’t have an appointment when he barged into my house last night to drag Natasha away.” 

I swallowed. “Well, it must have been for a good reason if he dragged his wife away.” 

“Do you know how disrespected I felt, having him come into my home, in front of everyone I had there, to drag out his wife? He’s so jealous that he refuses to let her have a friendship with me.” 

I ignored the pain I felt and shook my head. “It doesn’t sound like Bucky.” 

Clint chuckled darkly. “You don’t know him well enough then. Now, move out of my way.” 

“Can’t let you in there,” I backed up against the door.

The anger radiated off of him now and he gripped me elbow tight, undoubtedly leaving marks, and practically dragged me away from the door. I ripped my arm out of his grasp and swung my fist into his cheek, knocking him away from me as he stumbled back over his feet. 

“Keep your fucking hands off of me!” I seethed. 

Clint pulled his hand away from his lips, blood dripping from it onto the ground. Darkness clouded his iris’ and as he advanced towards me, Bucky stepped out of his office and leaned against the frame of the door, arms over his chest. The amusement on his face didn’t go unnoticed by me. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here and putting your hands on her, Barton.” 

Clint scoffed while wiping the blood from his lip with the sleeve of his shirt. “You’ve pissed off the wrong guy, Y/N.” 

“Oh, fuck you Barton. I’m not worried about you,” I spoke. 

Bucky nodded towards the door of the building, telling him to leave before it got worse and reluctantly, Clint walked out while licking his wounds. 

“Asshole,” I grumbled while looking at Bucky. 

He was already watching me and slowly licked his lips, desire pooling in his eyes. 

My panties soaked with my own desire at the look he was giving me. “What?” 

“That was fucking hot,” he moaned. 

Our naked bodies lay tangled together in a heap on the couch in his office, both coming down from our shared high. Bucky’s vibranium fingers dragged up and down my back while I pressed my cheek deeper into his bare chest, my own fingers ghosting over the scars on his shoulder, leaving a kiss there every so often. 

“Bucky?” 

He hummed, eyes closed from the pure bliss he felt. 

I linked my hand with his vibranium one. “I’ve noticed you never wear a wedding ring.” 

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve never been big on jewelry.” 

With a nod, I snuggled closer into his embrace and allowed myself to enjoy the last few minutes of quiet solace before Steve or Sam came to work and caught us. It was risky being together at work but yet Bucky and I continued to fall into one another when we were alone here. 

Figuratively and literally. 

Suddenly, Bucky’s phone began to ring quite loud, eviscerating our solace together and with a sad sigh, I pulled myself away from him. He reached down to the floor and dug out the phone from his discarded pants. 

His eyes jumped from the phone to me, a frown pulling at his lips. He didn’t need to say who was calling, it was evident in the way he stood and walked to the other end of his office. 

I marveled at the way his back muscles twitched with every movement, as he stood with his backside towards me, naked, baring his entire self to me. My bottom lips caught between my teeth as I fought the urge to go up to him, wrap my arms around him, and kiss his entire back. 

“Hi, Nat….wait, slow down. What are you saying?......Yeah, he did show up about an hour ago, upset about last night….You can’t get upset with me, you knew what you were walking into last night when you went to Clint’s house. I’m glad I got there in time. I don’t care that the two of you are good friends, he put everyone there in danger. Including you.” 

I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened last night that Bucky had to drag Natasha out of Clint’s house. 

“I'm not going to fire her, Nat. Barton put his hands on her first. she was defending herself…..Of course I'm defending her actions because she did what anyone should do….. You're being ridiculous, she works for me.”

Bucky never said my name, he didn’t have too. I knew they were talking about me. 

He turned to face me with guilty eyes and breathed deep. “Nat, there's nothing between us. I would be doing the same thing if it happened to Steve or Sam….Yeah, we can have a date tonight, just me and you…Of course sweetheart.” 

I could hear Natasha’s voice rambling on about something but it was white noise to Bucky as his eyes raked over my bare body while I lounged on the couch, legs spread wide for him. It wasn’t my intention to distract him from his call, this was the only way my body would fit on the small couch. 

Bucky’s pupils were blown wide with lust, the blueness of them a thing of the past, as he chewed roughly on his bottom lip. 

“I have to go, I’ll call you when I leave the office.” 

He didn’t bother to wait for her to say goodbye, him ending the call and placing his phone on his desk, making sure to silence it this time. 

“You’re such a fucking tease, doll.” 

I didn’t have a chance to explain myself before Bucky was on top of me once again, the tip of his cock pressed at my entrance. 

A small grimace crossed my features as I did my best to gather up my things, ready to go home for the weekend. My knees were weak and the bruise forming on my ass from the smacks Bucky pressed with his vibranium hand were causing me a bit of pain as I walked. 

This time in his office was rough, in the most euphoric way. I blamed it on the sheer thought of us getting caught that caused Bucky to act so dominant. 

Not that I complained one bit. 

Vibranium fingers wrapped around my throat while Bucky slammed his hip with vigor behind me, pulling my back close to his chest, flesh fingers digging deep into my hips. 

Absent-mindedly, I rubbed at the small bruises on my hips as the memory of us together kept replaying in my mind like a movie. 

“Bucky, we’ve got a problem!” 

Steve’s voice boomed throughout the office as he came running out of his office. His eyes landed on mine as Bucky emerged from his own office, curiosity on his face. 

“What’s going on?” He asked. 

Steve didn’t say a word, simply handed his phone to Bucky, who read whatever was on there. The fear that took over Bucky’s expression made my stomach flip. 

“What is it?” I asked, taking the phone from Bucky. 

“Doll, don’t-.” 

He tried to stop me from taking it but I smacked his hands away, eyes scanning over the email that had both Steve and Bucky scared to death. 

Hit for Y/N Y/L/N. Preferably alive but dead works too. Half a mil. 

C.B. 

All of the blood drained from my body, it began to tremble with fear. I stood frozen, unsure of what to say or even do. 

“Clint put a hit out on me,” the words forming but faltering just the same. 

Bucky punched the wall behind me with his vibranium hand but the noise did nothing to deter my current state. 

“Motherfucker,” Bucky cursed. “He’s dead.” 

Sweat gathered at my forehead, the thoughts of some random people trying to either kidnap me or worse taking over my mind. 

“What are we going to do?” I asked, looking between the two men. 

“I’m going to stay with you tonight, make sure you’re safe, until we can think of a plan,” Bucky said. 

I nodded. “Wait, aren’t Natasha and Clint friends?” 

There was a flash of something unreadable in Bucky’s eyes. “There’s no way she knew about this. She wants nothing to do with the mob part of my life.”

Even with his own words, Bucky couldn’t believe it one hundred percent. 

“I think we should keep this between us, as far as Clint goes, he has no idea that I know about this. One of my informants forwarded this email to me,” Steve said. 

Bucky nodded, the idea of keeping a secret from his wife becoming easier to him. 

Then the front door to the building opened causing both Steve and Bucky to put me behind them, ready to fight whoever stepped inside. 

“Woah, jumpy aren't we?” Natasha chuckled. 

The three of us breathed a bit easier; for now. 

“Nat, what are you doing here?” Bucky asked with a pinched expression. 

Her face faltered. “Our date. You promised.” 

Bucky’s shoulders dropped. “Right. Well, something came-.” 

“Nope,” I interrupted him. “His schedule for the night cleared up.”

We needed to make sure that Natasha had no idea about Clint and the best way to do that was to keep up the same appearances before, even if that meant Bucky wouldn't be with me tonight. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she had to know something and the only one of us that could possibly find that out was him.

His eyes sliced into me. “I thought that-.” 

I shook my head, stopping him. “Steve can come with me. It’ll be a fast errand, won’t take up most of his night. Right?” 

Steve quickly picked up on what I actually meant and nodded towards Bucky. “I’ll make sure nothing happens.” 

Bucky’s jaw clenched with spite but eventually nodded in agreement. 

“Perfect, let's go!” Natasha linked her arm through Bucky’s in hopes to urge him along. 

“I’ll check in later, alright?” Bucky said while being pulled from the building, gone from my line of sight.

Steve placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze, and I looked up at him with an immense amount of fear. 

“I’m scared, Steve,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

He pulled me into his warm embrace, lips ghosting over my hairline. “It’s alright. I’m not leaving your side tonight.”

[bn-stands-for-book-nerd]

None of you have seen the film, did you ?

The song is satire about the mirage of simple solutions, and seeing change (and transidentity) as merely a matter of changing the flesh. The trans person in the film, Emilia, doesn't even fall for it for a split second. She just send a goon to her lawyer to rough her up and tells her "Stop wasting my time on bullshit."

But you can't even represent something bullshit in a moovie, even to call it for what it is, right ? Even for a broader parable ?

Nooo. Idiots on the internet will take it off context and say you endorse it.

Reminds me of the time some dude called Hayao Myazaki an japanese imperialsit (A.k.a a fascist) to my face because he "represented the WWII japanese military" in The Wind has Risen. Nevermind the film is calling them world ending idiots.

Representing is endorsing, so never talk about anything and stop malking films.

I've experienced some godawful earworms in my lifetime, but all of them have been blown out of the water by "man to woman, woman to man, man to woman, peeenis to vaginaaaaaaaaa".

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Well.... this is me at 18, the summer before college, vs me three years into my Master's program. College has been a lot of fun but it's taken its toll on my body so fast! Not that it stops lots of guys from fucking me. Sure they used to call me sexy and hot, and now they call me a hucow slut or a dumb pig, but they still fuck my brains out just as much, if not more since I've, um...... bulked up.

This is my fourth pregnancy, I'm about six months along and my belly is gigantic. Granted it's kinda always huge because of all the beer we drink at my sorority. Every single girl has a big round beer belly and it's like we're all competing to see who can grow the biggest gut before we graduate. I actually kind of like being so fat, feeling my ass and my thighs jiggle as I walk, my boobs slosh around, getting sweaty constantly. They used to be so small but after a couple pregnancies my body knew I was always meant to be a cow and ballooned my boobs from, like a DD, to these massive udders. 90% sure I couldn't even breastfeed a baby with these things without suffocating them, which means my body grew these things for guys to enjoy. Nothing more. I started out as barely a B-cup, thankfully all this overeating, chugging beer, and fucking bareback has reminded my body what a girl is really supposed to look like!

I never thought I'd be 21, weighing over 400lbs, having already pushed out fourteen kids (triplets, quintuplets, sextuplets, if you were curious!), and now I've got at least six in my belly again. I don't know if I have another three years of this in me, I feel like my heart is gonna pop any day now from getting so unhealthy and fat so fast. I'm putting so much strain on my body but I can't stop now, I'm having way too much fun. If I have a heart attack at 700lbs in a couple years, having pushed out over thirty kids, then I'd say I've served my purpose as a woman perfectly fine. Loads of guys got to enjoy my body, breed me, cum all over my tits, use my holes, and call me all kinds of demeaning names as I drank a twelve pack of beer every night and stuffed my face all day with my sorority sisters. Since we were all competing to see who can have the biggest, fattest, grossest body! Oops, already referring to myself in the past tense.

But it would be super hot if half of us croaked from being such big fat breeder slobs, wouldn't it? We sit around in the lounge, drinking, eating a stack of pizza, rubbing our pussies as we talk about this stuff, how hot it'd be if we got heart attacks before graduation or kicked the bucket pushing out octuplets. It happened last semester to our friend Reilly! She was pushing out ten kids and bam! She moaned and came as she pushed out baby seven, drooling and smiling, sweating like crazy, looking perfectly eager to push out the last three. But then she passed out! Gone, just like that. The school had to cart her sexy, preggo body off and open her up to get the last few kids out. I was soooo jealous it was the hottest thing we've ever seen! Hopefully most of us follow her example, guys even tease us on campus when our bellies get really big like mine is now and tell us they can't wait for us to wind up like Reilly...... fuck, I'm cumming so hard just thinking about it. I need to go to the Chinese buffet and drink so much beer I piss myself at the booth! Gotta not disappoint my sorority sisters and all the frat boys..... A girl's got to put on a show. ❤️"

[harpieisthecarpie]

looking at how Goro Akechi became a foil of Akira Kurusu thru their childhood (attachment styles)

(Content Warnings for discussing all the stuff in Akechi's childhood specifically, bad parenting, neglect, mental illness. Take care of urselves)

waking up to the tags @1derpu2 added on another post of mine about Akechi ("#I don't think I could survive in his position") had me thinking of a 15-16 year old Akechi, and how survival even feels to him.

Because arguably Akechi has been in survival mode since he was born. Even with a mother doing her best to provide, poverty fundamentally rewrites the brain especially at such a young age−

(Tangent: Akechi's dessert blog actually reminds me of Brennan Lee Mulligan during the d20 Misfits & Magic actual play discussing his character [Evan Kelmp, an unhoused orphaned kid] ordering from desserts at restaurants in order to maximize caloric intake for his money bc stuff on the dessert menu actually tends to contain the most calories– ANYWAYS)

–and he also can feel the underlying tension in how his mother is treated, how he himself is treated, how there is no support network for them. I can imagine that's part of the lure of an ensemble kid's show like Featherman: reliable companions who take your hand rather than slapping it away.

I've done a lot of reading into attachment styles and attachment trauma (bc it's interesting and also haha ;] trauma) and it is a really cool lens to view the differences between our two Wild Cards Akechi and Akira.

adding a reblog with an attachment theory rundown! actual discussion of akechu attachment stuff below cut

There is no better fit for Akechi than a Disorganized Attachment style after finding his sole caregiver and financial (his mother) dead by her own hand after years of her focus being split by the work she needed to do for them to afford survival, before being passed around by distant relatives who viewed him with contempt, if they acknowledged him at all.

The world treated him and his mother like vermin, so of course no one else is trustworthy, of course the people who take advantage are evil. Of course everyone takes advantage. Just like his father, who is the root of this whole horrible thing (the thing being Goro's life, the thing being Goro)

His mother left him violently, voluntarily (from his pov, suicide & mental illness are complicated), so he must be someone repulsive. Incapable of being loved. If he wants others to love him, and he must in order to get close enough to his father to kill, then he must be anything other than himself.

One of the symptoms of disorganized attachment and attachment trauma is the inability to regulate emotions, leading those with it to feel things with an intensity they can't control, soothe, or explain that can fluctuate between emotions rapidly.

And doesn't that markedly fit with a kid who has awoken such disparate personas that are both him? His entire relationship with the world (there must be justice but there is no such thing as justice) and his inner psyche does explain why he brings up Hegel. If you have both Loki and Robin Hood inside you, thesis and antithesis, then isn't it a comfort to know their existence somehow makes sense? That you are synthesis rather than just chaos and pain.

Meanwhile, from the little we hear about Akira's parents and how Persona 5 frames the adults around him, the Avoidant attachment style fits best. He is fiercely independent, with such a strong sense of identity despite with the masks he wears for others that he has the true Wild Card ability. He stands his ground with his morals, even when everyone around him is telling him his life would be easier if he gave up.

He has a strong internal moral center because he was never attached enough to his caregivers that they'd be able to influence his cognitive assimilation. Why trust someone's moral judgment when you can't even trust them with your vulnerability?

This is why Akira and Akechi are so fascinating as foils, as rivals, and as people who know each other better than anyone else could. Akechi walks around as a fake, appealing version of himself that Akira sees through clearly. And Akira likes the bitter, vicious, angry version of Akechi because it's honest. That is the underlying intensity of people he knows is hidden behind the masks adults are convinced are their faces. (Where's your rage? RISE RISE RISE)

Akira and Akechi match so well not because they have a hidden ugliness, but because they view the pleasant masks people wear to excuse or ignore injustice as what are truly ugly. And their difference lies in Akira's belief that there is good in people while Akechi's upbringing has him convinced that humanity is rotten to its roots.

And Akechi wants Akira's beating, caring heart between his teeth because there is still a lonely little child in his own chest who loves Featherman and just wanted a better life for his mom. And who won't fucking die, no matter how Akechi tears the world apart to match his perception of it.

Akechi has spent years trying to kill his heart, which has done nothing but soaked his masks in his own blood.

Akira looks Akechi in the eyes, straight through those masks, and steals his heart from off the chopping block. And he keeps it close even as Akechi turns the blade on him in a rage borne of fear.

They're gay as hell thanks for coming to my ted talk. might improve after work

[edgarbright]

tl;dr Caleb is innocent until proven guilty + the game already told us who is responsible for the house explosion and it's not him

There's been a surge of popularity over the theory that Caleb himself staged the house explosion and it reminds me of how, for months and months, people kept accusing Rafayel of leaving MC to drown in chapter 7--despite MC immediately stating afterwards that it was Rafayel who was in danger, not her. And she also explicitly thanked him for saving her so that she didn't drown! But people still kept accusing him.

MC: "You're the idiot. The whirlpool was obviously a death trap, but you just swam right into it..."

MC, a few lines later: "Anyway, thanks... You were the one who pulled me out of the water, right? Thought I heard your voice before I blacked out..."

I'm excited to learn Caleb's POV of the house explosion incident, because it was his idea to return home and not to keep Grandma waiting! And it was MC who stated he should go inside, alone. They literally parted ways in the worst way: after an argument. Like what was going on in his head at that moment when he first felt the heat on his skin and knew MC was, blessedly, still outside?

Plus what would Caleb have to gain by killing Grandma except MC's hatred? Grandma was already dying!

And I point all of this out because the game already showed us who was responsible for the house explosion in the World Underneath, chapter 6 part 6 of Sealed in Dust: it was the rogue agents from Xavier's Backtrackers working for Ever Group!

Raincoat: "You silenced Josephine and retrieved the research material from back then. Good work."

The "You" here is to the Backtracker, the "hat-wearing man." And we know it is a Backtracker because Raincoat further says: "Your Prince Xavier has been glued to her side watching over her, right?"

And the Backtracker confirms his own association by saying: "Hmph, Xavier can only guard her for so long. He's too busy dealing with his own issues. Don't say I didn't warn you. It's not just Ever who wants her."

Plus the item exchange in this transaction is the research information taken from Grandma's house before the explosion and a drug to help the Backtracker survive longer on Earth. Ever Group, as we know, has a strong hand in the medical science.

Remember the Backtrackers are turning into Wanderers--Xavier already killed one of his men, Isaiah, and later straight-up murders another Backtracker who is in the process of turning (see below). Remember that MC on Philos was used as the fuel in the planetary machine that kept everyone and everything alive. Many of the Backtrackers want to sacrifice her again to save their lives! And Xavier tells them to back off. He's using his sword to make sure they back off. He knows his own people are a danger to her. (How tragic that he brought a danger with him on his expedition to save her...)

So in conclusion, Caleb is innocent until proven guilty, the game already told us the main people responsible for the explosion are Ever Group and the Backtracker rogue agents, and with all the trailers reminding us again and again, we really shouldn't be questioning that Caleb has only ever wanted to look after MC. Caleb wants to be with her! So you honestly can't have your LIs doing unforgivable things like murdering beloved Grandmas, like let's be real here.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk! We're less than 3 days until Caleb's homecoming!

[aquatic-armageddons]

Team "Whore"tress 2

CW: Not well proofread, foul language, unprotected p in v, double penetration, deepthroating, cunnilingus and tit fucking

---

Today was supposed to be Y/N's day, a day she'd been planning for since she joined the RED team. She'd even been grilling them about it when it was steadily approaching. Days like this were supposed to be happy, cheery and all around memorable.

But who would have thought it'd end in sheer hurt and disappointment?

Y/N just wanted at least one birthday wish, just one tiny gesture that shows her how much she is cared about, but apparently, that was too much to ask for.

The team acted like they never knew and just went about their normal business. And when Y/N tried to speak to them about her special day, she was not even allowed to finish her words, as they grew aggravated with the constant pestering.

"Goddammit, Y/N! Can't you stop getting on my case?! I do not want to hear what you gotta say right now!" Medic exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Medic, I didn't mean to-"

"You have been getting on everyone's final nerve, Y/N." Spy interjected. "Do you not know the meaning of the word 'humility'?"

"But I just wanted to tell you-"

"Tell us what?" Sniper chided. "That you're sorry for nearly costing us a battle today?"

"But I-"

"Enough! Tiny girl should stop. Go to some other place, now!" Heavy barked loudly, making Y/N quiver and shrink into herself.

"Fine." Y/N growled bitterly to herself, try desperately to choke back the salty tears from her eyes, unsuccessfully.

After she left, tension lingered for the other mercenaries to embrace. Soldier and Demo exchanged worried glances, as well as Engineer and Pyro.

"You guys ever stop to think why she's acting like that?" Scout questioned.

"Why should we?" Medic muttered. "It's not like it's so important that we can't wait."

Scout shook his head in exasperation. "You all are so fuckin' stupid, I swear. Do I gotta spell it out for you?"

Demo cocked his head to the side. "Please do, 'cause I don't get why the poor lass has her panties in a bunch."

It was at this moment when Scout snapped a little. "It's her goddamn birthday, dumbasses! I was the only one who remembered, and you all forgot?! God, you seriously piss me the fuck off!" He shook his head in disappointment.

Everyone's face paled as the weight of their mistake sunk in rapidly. An uncomfortable pang of hurt coursed through their hearts, and they made no attempt to hide the shame on their expressions.

"Scout cannot be serious.. " Heavy whispered.

"This is not April Fool's Day, maggot. Why are you messing with us now?" Soldier blurted.

"Why would I make this up, you guys? Does the poor girl mean nothing to you at all?" He looked at him with a cold stare.

"You're wrong, mate. She means everything to us." Sniper griped.

"Then we gotta fix this. Now."

---

A knock on Y/N's door echoed through the hall of dorms. The only noises audible from the other side was her soft cries and sniffles.

God, this was heart-wrenching to its core.

"Mon chéri, may we come in?" Spy spoke tactfully.

"Go away..."

"C'mon, little lady. We just wanna talk, that's all." Engineer pressed.

The door suddenly swung open to reveal an agitated Y/N. Her eyes were bloodshot from the many tears, and her face was slightly flushed and puffy.

"What's there to talk about?! I've been reminding you bastards for WEEKS, and you just up and forgot! You don't get to come here now like you give a damn!" Y/N's throat clenched up as a new set of tears fell.

"Fraulein, please!" Medic pleaded with her. "We're sorry, sweetie. Is there any way we can make it up to you?"

Y/N thought for only a moment. "You guys really want to prove you're sorry?"

"Da, more than anything!" Heavy exclaimed.

"Alright, then. Prove it."

"But how, lass?" Demo urged.

"Use your imagination..."

The other mercenaries' eyes grew wide with understanding as Y/N slowly removed her blouse. Even though she didn't speak another word, the message was obvious.

"I believe I should go first, short stuff. Since I'm the only one who remembered, right?" Scout whispered in Y/N's ear, sending a chill down her spine.

Scout gently pressed his lips against hers, but soon after initiated a deep, passionate makeout session. His lips then traveled down towards the nape of her neck as he deeply inhaled her scent. Y/N shuddered as she felt Pyro's hands grasp onto her backside, gently kneading and massaging.

Sniper slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of Y/N's bottoms, his fingers gently teasing her clit. They circled the hardened nub with ease, making Y/N more soaked than she was before. He then slowly removed his hand and sucked on his fingertips, not breaking his eye contact with her for a second.

"Fuck, Sheila. You taste bloody gorgeous...but I'd rather eat this straight from the source if you don't mind..."

Sniper laid back down on the bed beside him, beckoning Y/N to give him a better taste of her juices. She happily complied, taking off her bottoms and slowly climbing towards Sniper's head.

"Go on, Y/N." Heavy stated. "Give Sniper a taste of wet, juicy pussy."

She didn't need to be told twice. Slowly lowering her lips above Sniper's, she let out a shaky moan as he swiped his thick tongue across her folds. Sniper growled in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around Y/N's thighs, locking her in place. She tilted her head back as she rode his face, running her fingers through his hair.

After getting a better taste of her, Sniper switched positions and laid her on her back, spreading her thighs while apart. He beckoned Spy over, silently telling him to get a taste of her sweet cunny.

"Go on, mate. It's the best tastin' cunt you'll ever have..." He groaned.

Spy hummed in compliance, lowering his head and attaching his face to hers. Y/N arched her back and moaned shamelessly, jaw stacking and saliva dribbling out of her mouth. Even though she shut her eyes, it didn't stop Spy from savagely devouring her cunt.

She felt the bed's weight dip on both sides of her head. She opened her eyes to see Soldier's hard cock on her left side and Engie's on her right. Taking one in each hand, Y/N began stroking slowly, illiciting a groan from both men.

"Damn, honey..." Engie began. "You sure know how to use those hands, don't you?"

"She sure does, Engie!" Soldier bit his lip as Y/N licked his cock from base to tip, swirling the tip with her tongue. He ran his fingers through her hair as he suddenly thrusted down her throat, making her gag.

"Let's see how these tits fit around my cock, lass..." Demo climbed over Y/N's torso, placing himself in between her breasts. He let a sliver of saliva dribble down onto his cock and thrusted back and forth, earning himself a satisfied moan.

"You're not one to lie, Bushman. She tastes quite wonderful..." Spy agreed, licking her juices from his mouth, like observing the taste of fine wine. "Scout, get one with her, would you? You said you were first, yes? And it is rude to keep people waiting."

"Fine, you rat." Scout hissed. "But I'm taking my time here, unlike you forgetful fucks."

He and Y/N swapped places, and he laid himself on his back. Y/N didn't hesitate to slam herself onto his shaft, causing both of them to moan out in unison. Scout grasped onto Y/N's behind, guiding her on his cock as she bounced up and down.

"Lean onto Scout, Devushka." Heavy insisted. "I will take your behind." Y/N did as instructed, and felt Heavy's massive member tease her backdoor. She began to cry out in slight pain, earning a scowl from Medic.

"Gott, mein friend! You need to prep the poor girl before fucking her there!" Medic scolded.

Heavy rolled his eyes. "Da, da, doctor."

He spit onto his fingers, making them well lubricated before inserting them into Y/N's backside. Y/N cried out again, but with more pain than pleasure. Her moans grew louder as Heavy slid himself inside her, making her holes completely occupied.

"Isn't this a sight to see?" Spy stated with a chuckle. "This is far better than any verbal apology we can give, and you know it, Mon chéri."

A few minutes passed and at least everyone's had a round with Y/N's throat, tits, pussy and behind. But that wasn't the icing on the cake, at least not yet.

Y/N kneeled on the floor as she was surrounded by all nine mercenaries, her mouth open and tongue sticking out, longing for the last of their seed to cover her face.

"Fuck!"

One after the other, they released the last of their essence onto Y/N's face and down her throat. Her hair was a sticky, white mess, as well as the rest of her body. Her pussy and backside were sore, her lips were slightly swollen and her eyes were still bloodshot from the tears of pleasure she wept. She would have passed out then and there, but Medic scooped her up, carrying her to the bathroom a few feet away.

"Fraulein, we truly are sorry for not remembering your special day. Do you forgive us?" He whimpered as he placed her in the tub, turning the dial to hot.

"You guys are so silly. I forgave you the moment you knocked on my door earlier!" Y/N smirked. She let out a deep sigh of relief when settling in the bath, the hot water easing her sore spots.

"Good. Because the last thing we want is to have any more tension in the base." Spy noted.

"But I'm glad you're feeling better, and we promise not to forget your special days anymore. Isn't that right, gentlemen?"

---

A/N: THE LONG WAIT IS FINALLY OVER!!!!

I want to apologize for not releasing this when I said I would. I don't like going back on my word at all, but I wanted to recover from my illness (a little) before completing this. Last night was absolutely horrible for my lungs and stomach (coughing for a straight hour, hacking up phlegm and puking as well 🙃🤢). But I'm feeling a lot better today, and I plan on seeing my doctor this week. In the meantime, please let me know what you think and send me asks for what headcanons/fanfics you wish to see in the future!!!!