#*para (003)

[archieths]

. ₊˚ ♡  archie thompson en los días libres.

[mxvick]

                                 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 .

                                          with @wolfrcge .

            *　  /　　o gosto que ficava na boca era amargo. marcado pela incerteza que enchia a mente de dúvidas quando pensava no assunto. depois de uma conversa tão positiva, não ver nate por tantos dias deixava maverick inquieto. se perguntava constantemente se tinha feito algo errado. mas ao mesmo tempo tentava entender que a noite não tinha terminado na mesma nota positiva que começou. todo mundo tinha outras preocupações agora. ele mesmo estava passando mais tempo em alder grove. não só por segurança, mas porque lobos de alcateia eram mais fortes juntos. precisavam uns dos outros.

não estava dando a si mesmo uma folga. o estado de alerta parecia contínuo nas últimas semanas, mas estava querendo respirar ares diferentes. talvez tomar algo forte antes de ir para casa. essa era sua intenção ao entrar no bar. mas em seu caminho até o balcão, uma imagem atraiu sua atenção. mas a aproximação animada, o sorriso, tudo sumiu quando chegou perto o bastante. tudo substituído pelo receio repentino. " nate... ? " chamou em tom suave quando se aproximou, colocando a mão nas costas do mais velho. " hey... " quase perguntou se ele estava bem, mas não queria usar aquelas palavras. não parecia que nada estava bem, em lugar nenhum. " como... tem passado? está aqui sozinho? " a última coisa que queria era acabar interrompendo alguma coisa.

[wmucody]

WE CAN'T BE FRIENDS, WE CAN'T BE LOVERS → CODY & FRANNIE PARA.

TITLE: We can't be friends, we can't be lovers. DATE: Monday 26th February. PEOPLE: Cody {@wmucody} & Frannie {@wmufranniefabray} SUMMARY: Frannie goes to call things off with Cody, and things turn sour.

Frannie

It was raining - typically - by the time Frannie arrived at Cody’s dorm. Brief flashes of a memory were attempting to underpin every single layer of self control that she had left - glimpses of Frannie delivering the Valentine’s present, the menu, to Cody’s door. Glimpses of her giddy smile and the feeling of nervous restlessness. It wasn’t even that long ago now. Still, Frannie was not the kind of girl to back down from a difficult conversation, and she wasn’t about to start now. Her knock on his door was sharp, firm and the sound against her ears almost made her wince. This was going to be uncomfortable - she had prepared herself already - but it was only now that she was here, still in her lab coat which was half covered by her jacket, that Frannie fully realised just what she was doing. “Hi.” She immediately spoke when the door flew open, attempting to offer an this-is-absolutely-fine kind of smile. “How’s it going?”

Cody

His pen tapped to the beat Trustfall by P!NK that was playing inside Cody's head. It wasn't his normal genre of music however with working in Scandals you get the same regulars requesting the same music, and Cody's mind was normally infiltrated with the repetitive songs, no matter how hard he would fight it off. His right leg bounced as a means of concentration, the synthetic material causing a sound of friction against his small desk leg. He had been sitting staring at his laptop screen for the past 90 minutes. A total word count of 2. His name. He was tasked by his professor to write a 15-page study on how environmental influences play a major part in developmental issues within young adults. Within the report he had to write about influences such as religion, family, and primary socialisation. His beaten notebook filled page to page with extensive research and notes he had collated, sometimes using people close to him to help gain a better understanding to human development. 

The sharp knock at the door took Cody by surprise. His startle response was easily activated so his head turned within a millisecond with caution. He wasn't expecting anyone to come round. Maybe it was one of Frida's or Ryder's friends looking for them. He dropped his pen and walked to the door curiously. Opening the door, and seeing Frannie standing there unexpectedly, his eyebrows raised in surprise as a small smile took to his face. 

"Frannie, hi," Cody greeted her. "Everything alright?"

Frannie

Upon seeing Cody's smile, Frannie tried to swallow the second - or third or forth or fifth - wave of guilt that washed throughout her body. There was always the possibility that this conversation potentially could go well, but Frannie wasn't naive. She was dreading it. Every muscle of her body wanted to make a quick, brief excuse. Lie and leave. Run away. Yet her feet firmly remained planted - or frozen - in place. Honesty was the only way of resolving this situation, this square, without anyone getting properly hurt. Ignoring Cody's question, her eyes darted behind his body, trying to discern whether Cody was alone or not. "Are you busy?" She resulted in asking, turning her attention and gaze back to the man in front of her. "I was wondering whether we could talk?"

Cody

Cody picked up that there was something not right with Frannie. Her body language was different this time around. His guess was that it was a result of the Muckracker column that had came out. He forced a laugh every time someone asked about it, shaking it off like he didn't care, but to be talked about in a university-wide column with his kinda-ex, his good friend, and a potential love interest? It did throw a spanner in the works for him. He didn't know exactly how he felt about the column and he wasn't rushing to find out. Instead his attention was directed to everything else that could distract him. 

"Yeah, come in," he replied, stepping to the side to allow Frannie enter the room. Running his fingers through his hair nervously, a mixed feeling of anxiety and curiosity flooded his gut. "What's got you all.. weird?"

Frannie

Even stepping past Cody, their bodies momentarily brushing past one another, Frannie couldn't help the sharp inhale of breath that left her lips. She was on edge. Part of her wanted to soak and relish in the brief glimmer of moments of Cody and Frannie being together like they were right now before she broke it. It was tempting to pretend that nothing outside of this room was happening, that everything between the two of them was remaining as rosy and red at the weekend had been. Colours had always been Cody's thing, something he had encouraged Frannie to consider more in depth. If the weekend had been a rosy red, then today was a darker blue. A navy. Maybe recency bias of the current pouring rain hammering in the background had influenced her colour choice, or maybe the shade reflected the melacholic feeling humming in her gut. 

This was the first time she had ever been inside Cody's dorm, but she didn't allow herself a second of looking around. No. Focus. Each thought that flashed through her mind felt drastic, cruel; so instead of listening to those thoughts, Frannie spun round to face Cody and opted for brutal honesty. It was the only way she knew how to best address this. "I'm fine." She replied shortly, rushed, the last thing she wanted  to focus on right now was her and her feelings. "How are you?"

Cody

Cody closed the door as he nibbled on his bottom lip. He had learned to determine the mood of a conversation through tone of voice, shortness of sentences, the way someone breathed. His act of picking up on non-verbal communication was pristine which also was a massive indicator in how he knew that something about Frannie showing up at his door, unexpected, wasn't going to end well. "I'm also fine."

He corrected his body language from slumping to straightening up his back, his shoulders presented in a poised position. His lips pursed at the anticipation of what talk was about to take place. He had only just recovered from the weekend so to be faced with Frannie's demanour had knocked him into a state of clueless wondering.

Frannie

Trying to differentiate between herself and her parents was something Frannie had always tried to do - after all, this was how she was raised. How she knew how to exist. And yet, as she has grown older, Frannie had learned so much about how wrong some of the way she communicated was. She was still learning. "The Mukracker Column was right." She spoke openly, but a tentative softness to the tone of her voice because my God, was the guilt eating her alive. If the pale colour currently shading her cheeks was anything to go by, it was made even clearer by how she fiddled nervously with her hands.

"I'm unsure about how Mercedes, of all people, is involved but.. the part about Sam and I was true. I really like him. A lot. The kind of feelings that I really, really don't want to ignore, even if I've been trying hard to." It felt wrong to say. Like a guilty, sinful secret. Realistically, Frannie knew there was nothing she had done particularly wrong, perhaps except fail to tell Cody beforehand, but she couldn't hide how awful this felt to do. "What I'm trying to say is that I think it would be best if we stop - this. With us. I can't carry on getting to know you when I know that there's potential with someone else. It's not fair to you or to them or to anybody." Pausing, momentarily, Frannie chewed down on her lower lip. "I'm sorry."

Cody

"Mukracker, mm,” Cody repeated, a small laugh escaping his mouth. Of course. The nod of his head suggested that his part to play in the love square was also true. He noticed Frannie fiddling with her hands. His urge to close the gap between them fought strongly against his resilience. He wanted to make sure she was okay, that this was still a safe space regardless of the context of the conversation. No. His inner voice commanded. The coldness of the voice inside his head sent electrical shocks through his body. Cody immediately positioned his hand behind his back, his hands place strategically in a way to comfortably rotate his ring as a way of keeping his thoughts on track. 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” he replied, his teeth slightly gritted. His jaw tensed as he took a second to process what Frannie had just admitted. As Cody tried to make sense of the situation, his eyes narrowed as he kept eye contact. The reactiveness clashed with the voice of reason within his head, as if his patience was a strong standing cliff with the waves of defensiveness relentlessly trying to crack the foundations of his calm front. 

“I do have one question though”. Cody stepped towards Frannie, cocking his head to examine her body language. To try figure out what she was really thinking. “What is making you want to prioritise your potential with Sam over what we have? And I’m in no way slandering Sam, he’s one of my good friends here, and he’s definitely the safest option. But why?” He questioned. “Especially when we’ve just came back after spending the weekend at your house, of all places, with your family, of all people. What was it all for?”

Frannie

Several questions fought their way into her mind as she watched Cody nod in confirmation. Confirmation of what, he hadn’t clarified, but  Frannie was not in a position right now to be asking questions or throwing any kind of accusations. The change, the shift, the drastic difference now in the heavy atmosphere between them in comparison to the weekend was palpable and Frannie fought against the urge to look away. No. 

“I do need to be sorry.” Frannie replied quietly, watching carefully as Cody stepped closer to her, releasing another shaky breath. “You deserve so much more than being put in a situation like this.” His eyes were scanning her own and it felt as though she was being examined. The sheer intensity of the now closeness between the two of them, combined with his piercing gaze on her, sent a shiver down her spine. 

The question caught Frannie off-guard. It was honest. Painfully so. A kind of honesty that Frannie hadn’t been expecting. There had been a slight assumption on her part that Cody wouldn’t care. A silence fell between the two of them. “What makes you think that’s the safer option?” She finally asked, swallowing the lump that had started to form in her throat. A question for a question. There were so many thoughts racing through her head, many of which were being promptly ignored. “Ultimately, the feelings that I have for Sam are stronger. They’re different.” She replied, removing her gaze from Cody momentarily to anywhere else in the room, her eyes landing on his laptop, still alight, on his desk. “I-I’m not saying that the two of us couldn’t have had those kind of feelings eventually. I think we could have, perhaps, if the circumstances were different.” She admitted, moving her eyes back to Cody again. “But that’s not how this worked out. I can’t give myself fully to you when my heart is elsewhere.” The ever so familiar saying right person, wrong time echoed in her head and she squeezed her eyes shut, briefly, blocking it out.

Cody

Cody couldn’t help but scoff at Frannie’s response, at how he apparently deserved so much more. His want of being understanding about the situation was overpowered now as his annoyance began to creep in. She thought he deserved so much more but she was the one that put him in this position in the first place? He wasn’t getting the logic behind her words, and the wall he felt brick around his heart wouldn’t allow him to see it even if the logic was there. 

“Safer in the sense that you don’t think you can quite put your finger on me, and that scares you. Maybe Sam is the type of guy who you can understand easily, and the lack of risk with him makes it easier. Like a cop out,” Cody stated, his voice lower and calm. The reason behind his answer came from the few times that they had spent together, where Frannie had sparked questions about the depths of him. As Frannie looked away Cody maintained his eye contact, asserting some sort of dominance within the conversation. Keep neutral. His father’s voice echoed the walls of his head. Vulnerability was taught as a weakness growing up in his house. There was no room for emotion in his childhood, and if he even showed a slight reaction it was never greeted with sympathy but rather outrage. The trauma of this carried into his adulthood days, especially in moments of conflict. 

“I think if your heart was truly elsewhere, like you say it is, your breath wouldn’t be shaky. Shaky breath is normally triggered by stress, or anxiety, and if you are so, so sure of your choice wouldn’t you be more self-assured about it and act as such?” He knew his question was rather out there, a trick, if anything, to see if there was any possibility that Frannie was at all doubtful about cutting their connection off.

Frannie

Her head snapped back to face Cody in an instant, the minute the words a cop out fell from Cody’s lips into the room between them. The words hung in the air and replayed in Frannie’s mind, over and over. “Stop it.” She answered, sharply, her eyes now locked on his. This felt like an entirely different person and it had temporarily thrown her off. While Frannie had been fighting to show vulnerability, against everything she had been taught, Cody’s eyes were calm. Cool. Chilled. It didn’t make any sense, and yet, she recognised it in an instant. No emotions. This was how she had been raised. What her parents had drilled into her. And now, for perhaps the first time, she was seeing this kind of response given to her. She was on the receiving end of it, for once.

“I’m not a psychology experiment, Cody. You don’t need to start pyscho-analysing me.” Her words were now less gentle, less soft, and filled with an impatience that hadn’t been there previously. This was a side of herself that Frannie hadn’t welcomed willingly in a long time. Her voice was now remaining cool and chilled, echoing Cody’s own, while she tilted her head to the side, eyebrows raised. “A shaky breath can indicate many things, yes. Anxiety or stress, absolutely. But have you ever had to have this kind of conversation, before? Delivering news like this isn’t fun. Or easy. Regardless of how sure I am, I’m not enjoying this in the slightest.” 

It took everything in Frannie’s body and self control to hold back. To bring back a softer tone to her voice. To reach out and make this situation better. To even take back what she had said. And yet she couldn’t. Not now.

Cody

The tension between them drew out the unlikeable side of Cody. It had shaped people's perspectives of him, and it will probably be repeated, yet again, with Frannie. His inner child pleaded for him to show some sort of sympathy towards Frannie and the undeniably tough situation that she had dealt with rightfully. No matter how loud his inner child screamed, it was ignored. Like he had been screaming within the Amazon rainforest with no civilisation around for miles. Cody, as much as he denies it, was his father's son. The taught behaviours was the first thing on the list of what he disliked about himself, however it kept him safe even if the price he had to pay was being alone. 

"Well, spare yourself the hassle of this conversation and leave," Cody retorted. He turned away from Frannie, a small moment of weakness expressed on his face as he was out of her gaze. Gathering himself together, he perched himself down on his chair. His unorganised desk filled with notes upon notes of classwork reflected his current mindset. He felt rejected, pissed off, hurt, he wanted to turn around and kiss Frannie in one last act of surrender, to plead his case that he was the right one, not someone else. 

"Don't forget to shut the door," he commented harshly, biting down on his lip for his body to focus on the nipping pain rather than the emotions building up inside him.

Frannie

As soon as Cody’s back was turned, she swallowed, her gaze finally lowering to the ground in a somewhat defeat. Her eyes lingered on Cody for a few, brief seconds before she noticed her hands were shaking. Only slightly, but enough that she tucked them in her pockets. She didn’t have anything else to say - no more words. They had been swallowed and gulped down and unspoken. Perhaps later, in hours or days or weeks to come, Frannie would think of the words and regret not ushering a thousand apologies for this whole thing, but she couldn’t. Not now. Her pride was the only thing in this whole situation she seemingly had left.

Turning, momentarily, Frannie placed a small envelope on the side of a table, labelled with Cody’s name in her swirly handwriting and glitter gel pens. His comment caused Frannie to release an irritated eye roll. “I mean, I just came here to let you know. You don’t need to bite my head off or anything, jeez.” 

On her way out, Frannie turned one last time to say something before she noticed on Cody’s desk a small word, imprinted on one of the scattered pages around him. Her name. A frown crossed her features, confusion setting in almost instantly. “What is that?” She asked, a dangerously suspicious edge to her tone now.

Cody

Cody pretended to ignore the envelope that Frannie had sat down. Automatically thinking it was a  letter of apology, as he knew she was a fan of handwritten communication, he rolled his eyes. As if she had anything different to say that would make him feel any less amazing than he already did. His eyes fixated on a small mark on the wall. He couldn't quite tell what it was, a pen mark, a dirt mark from his skateboards, whatever it was it was doing a pretty good job at keeping Cody's gaze occupied rather than succumbing to the desire of looking at Frannie. The admiration was still there, firmly, he dreaded that it would stick around for sometime, especially now that things had ended between them. 

His eyebrows raised at Frannie's question, his eyes scouring the endless pieces of paper in front of him. Some pages ripped, some white, some a darker shade from sitting out so long. Then he seen it. His A4 sheet of notes that he had jotted down upon his return of spending the weekend with her parents. During his stay he had taken mental note of the behaviours presented in front of him, many mental notes. Fuck, he thought. Although he had noted down personal things about the Fabrays, he was never going to use them, it was just a visual aid into understanding development more, it gave him more exposure to real life scenarios, but the paper was supposed to be binned as soon as Cody figured out his train of thought. 

His breath hitched. A pause created more tension. It was the right thing to explain fully, to reassure Frannie that it was a simple way of understanding who she was as a person, and it was never going to be used for his personal gain. Cody, however, was never in the habit of doing the right thing. It'd be easier for Frannie to hate him. He couldn't pass her in the hallway, knowing that there was something lingering. "Tsk, I thought if I was going to understand fucked family behaviours and their impact on children then you were my perfect start".

Frannie

Oh, so they were playing that game, now? Every single muscle in her face was prepared and ready to flinch, to crumple, to fall at Cody’s comment. The stinging sensation almost vibrated across her entire body. And yet, she somehow, remained still, calm, thanking God that her shaking hands remained far away, out of view, inside of her pockets. 

The note. The promise. The reassurance that every piece of information she had confidentially shared would never be used. All of it had been thrown out of the window and what was left, scattered around this bedroom, was the silent, invisible remnants of any of her respect that had been left for Cody. 

If he was trying to hurt her, he could tick off mission achieved, but she would be damned if she was letting Cody ever see that. No, she instead stared at him, a small smirk beginning to form. “That’s cute.” She drawled, slowly, her eyes lowering the paper yet again. “If you’re looking for those kind of fucked behaviours, Cody, perhaps start looking more internally next time. I don’t think Sammy would appreciate you thinking of me like that anymore.” And with that comment, Frannie twisted her body, turning on her heel and walking out of the room. It was quick, not a hurry but a definite march - the only indication that she left behind of just how affected she was. As soon as her body was away. Far away. Tucked into a corner and hidden. She finally allowed the tears of regret and guilt to fall from her eyes.

[wmu-cedes]

She had texted Sam to meet her outside of 'Suits+" in the ball by their school. If Sam needed a suit and a few good pairs of shoes, she was going to show him what to get and how to wear it. Sure, a part of her was curious as to why he suddenly decided he needed to get some fancy get up, but she wasn't upset about spending time with her best friend. Nor spending some money on him. Sam deserved the world, she was happy to spoil him.

She glanced up from her phone, her instincts telling her he was close, only to see his blonde head making its way towards her. Instantly, a bright grin formed on her features. "Hey handsome! You ready to get your shop on?"

@samevans-wmu

[wmuhummel]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟑

Kurt is refilling his glass with something a little stronger than lemon water when he feels a presence approach and stand next to him by the refreshment table. He can tell who it is just by the whiff of grapefruit alone, and is very cautious as he turns to face the dance floor with the glass of refilled punch in his hand. He can see his date having fun with his friends across the floor, and it's nice just to watch him for a moment, which is apparently the Principle's cue to ask about why he came tonight with his said date. The question throws him for a momentary pause as he gives her a sidelong glance, the question marinating in his head for a few moments before he bothers to open his mouth and speak. "He actually asked me, not vice-versa, so I'm here because I couldn't say no and experience that kicked puppy expression he's perfected in person. I'm not a total asshole." He starts, jokingly, lightly with a forced grin towards her. Her brow lift proves she doesn't buy that for a second, and he relents, shoulders sagging. "I envy him. I want to see what the whole deal with him is. Everyone adores him, and after tonight - I get it. He's so warm, inviting, and I feel oddly safe while around him. I can't remember the last time I felt completely safe with someone, let alone experience any of this-" making a grand gesture by waving his glass wielding hand to the whole room "-as I never got to experience my prom, or any high school dance with a date. I've never been asked, and I've always felt something was missing due to it. So, of course I wouldn't say no to being asked for the first time ever. He saw me for a second, when no one else had bothered to look up and consider me an option. Because I've never been an option..." His eyes sting, and he can feel Sylvester's gaze burning holes in the side of his head even if she doesn't comment. He had expected her to sniff and drawl about the sappy or sad nature of it all, but instead he feels the napkin being passed over in silence that he accepts and dabs at his eyes hurriedly. "He's out of my league when it comes to seeing the world half full, so I don't intend to drag him down to my depths with me. But tonight? Tonight I'm going to enjoy his company, and let myself have fun, maybe even pretend this is what he and I should've been doing the whole time." A moment of silence, taking a sip, swallowing his emotions down quickly with a deep breath. "But then I'll wake up in the morning, and will return to the same ol' Lima Loser like I've always been." Tucking the napking away in his jacket pocket, he fixes his corset The song that had been playing comes to a stop and a new one is selected (Lay with Me ft. Vanessa Hudgens, to be specific), and Kurt turns to give Sylvester a curt nod. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to go continue enjoying myself with my date." Passing the glass over towards her, he turns to stride across the dance floor towards the date in question, grin returning to his features, no trace of the moment of weakness to be visible. ( @wmublaine )

[ofeventide]

┋ ❝ — &&. 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭. ❞ // a self para for event: 𝟎𝟎𝟑. tw. mentions of blood, death, & general angsty-ness.

⸻ She stands in dark depths of the colosseum, confined behind cold iron bars, a prisoner of her own fate. Dim light filters through narrow slits and casts shadows across her face, fear clinging to her features like a malevolent specter. Her heart, an erratic drumbeat of trepidation, resounds in her ears and drowns out the cheers and jeers of the boisterous crowd beyond. She was now a lamb led to slaughter, her fate would be decided in the sand of the arena, already soaked red from blood. Her fear wasn’t for her own life, it was not the looming specter of death that gripped her heart, but the terror of being seen. Elia had known darkness intimately, felt the savage hunger that lurked beneath her skin; she trembled at the prospect of losing control, of unleashing the horror she kept shackled within.

The silver ticket weighed heavily in her trembling hand, a grim reminder of what was to come. She had been nominated against her very will, set up like a pawn in a malicious game, rigged from the start.

For a moment, she drowns it all out. The cheerful murmurs and excited chatter from the crowd, the clinking glasses, the scent of anticipation…She drowns it all out and pictures herself in a place she could be happy. Different images paint themselves behind her eyes, she finds solace in the warmth of her imagination. In one, she's home with Benny, their favorite movie plays in the background, and laughter fills the air as Benny burns the cookies he'd promised to make. Then, like a gentle breeze, the image shifts and she's in the orchard with Viv. The sun caresses their faces as they sit on the porch, hands almost touching, sipping peach lemonade and sharing stories. There's a spark in his eyes that makes her heart skip a beat, the comfort of his presence wraps around her like a soft blanket.

The scenes blend and blur into a faded image of the three of them, all together. She sees Benny and Viv, fitting together in her life like pieces of a puzzle. In a fleeting moment, the weight of her circumstances and the fear gripping her heart fades away, replaced by a glimmer of hope for a different future.

As the bars before her begin to rise, her heart sinks and she’s snapped back into reality. The metal screeches, grating against her nerves, echoing the gnawing dread within her. The signal had been given, her time had come, and there was no turning back. Her gaze fixates on the darkened figure of her opponent waiting on the other side, a formidable spirit warrior, their power an insurmountable force against her own. Breathing comes out in shallow gasps, fingers clenching and unclenching as the weight of the spectators’ eyes bore down upon her, a sea of curious faces and eager anticipation.

The iron bars finally clear their path, revealing the arena beyond, and she steps out into the stained sand. The air becomes electric with tension, the metallic tang of anticipation mingling with the scent of sweat and fear. Trumpets sound, and the roar of the crowd envelopes her like a thunderous wave. Her senses heightened, acutely aware of every movement, every breath, as she began her dance with death.

A barrage of blows, a whirlwind of power, each exchange a testament to the relentless fight for survival. Her opponent was skilled, adept at evading her scrying attempts, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. Her movements become desperate, attempts at evading her opponents attacks only grow more futile by the second. Each blow lands with an unforgiving force, sending shockwaves of pain throughout her body. She doesn’t want this fight, doesn’t want the violence to escalate. She calls out to her opponent, voice tinged with fear and sorrow. “Please, stop! I don’t want to hurt you,” her voice trembles and she takes another blow, “I don’t…I don’t want any of this, I’ll tap out, I’ll surrender-” Her words echo through the colosseum, the crowd falling silent for a moment, before erupting into jeers and demands for the fight to continue.

Her opponent’s eyes remain cold and unyielding, the glint of victory locked into their gaze. They show no sign of mercy or hesitation, pressing their advantage with a relentless force. Each strike breaks her down further, and she struggles to keep her composure. She's desperate not to fall victim to her dark instincts, to let the monster within take control. Her opponents blows land with brutal force, each impact reverberating through her body, threatening to break her like a fragile doll. She tries to fight back, her movements fierce and desperate, but it’s clear that she’s outmatched and the cruel destiny of the arena is closing in around her.

Every hit she takes, every cut, every bruise, every broken bone, only serves to fuel the bloodlust within her. She can feel the savage hunger rising, clawing at the edges of her consciousness, tempting her to embrace the darkness. Her vision blurs with each blow, and the taste of her own blood becomes a constant presence in her mouth, and the crowd roars a cacophony of cheers around her. She can feel the weight of their expectations, their thirst for blood and spectacle, and her vision goes red.

Her scream echoes through the colosseum, a guttural cry of pain and rage, completely different from any howl of pain she’d released during the fight. It was in that moment that the fury unleashed, and her transformation began. The nightmare bursts forth, her body contorting and shifting, growing into a monstrous creature, a reflection of her cursed blood.

In the span of a moment, it all unravels.

She loses all self-control, all semblance of who she once was, and her opponent's blood fills her senses. It's a heady and intoxicating scent that sends her into a frenzy, the tantalizing aroma pulling at the deepest recesses of her being, awakening the monster within.

She fights with a ferocity beyond comprehension, fueled by an insatiable hunger that burns in her throat. Each strike she delivers is a cry for release, for freedom from the torment that binds her. She tears into her opponent with wild abandon, her claws sinking deep into flesh and bone, blood splattering in every direction.

The colosseum falls into a stunned silence, the weight of what they've witnessed settling in like a suffocating fog.

And there she stands, drenched in crimson, her nightmare form unleashed upon the world. In that moment, she is a creature of the night, a monster born of desperation and pain. The woman she once was, now lost int he turmoil of her own bloodlust, her mind a blur of chaos and destruction. It's a transformation she never wanted, a fate she never asked for.

The crowd watches in horrified awe, their gasps and whispers barely audible to Elia against her own heartbeat. Once a girl, now a tragic figure, a vessel for the darkness that consumed her.

She stands there, no long as Elia, but a shattered soul with blood on her hands, the truth revealed to everyone in the audience.

[xmythandmagicx]

3rd

[wmucody]

"Thanks," he replied, taking the body spray into his own hands. He held the bottle in one hand, turning his wrist in multiple directions to examine the bottle fully. "Peach." A chuckle gave way. "Exactly my scent." Cody scooshed a few sprays over himself. Under his armpits, underneath his shirt, behind his ears, and on the softness of his wrists. He extended his arm out, offering the body spray back to Frannie.

He stood for a moment. Clearing his throat eventually. They had essentially cleared the air that one night, on that pavement. After one too many tequilas. That was the only way people seemed to get to know him. The more alcohol in his system, the more you were likely to hear one of Cody's home truths. That one night being that he never actually used Frannie's family to better his report. It was a defence. To come across the villain as it was easy to let down than live up to expectations.

"I'm sorry," Cody finally spoke, his words low and quiet, to not be heard by others in the room. "I was a little.. cold there. We're fine, I'm fine. I just take a little adjusting."

It had always been irritatingly impossible to try to read Cody. Like Frannie, it was clear he was extraordinarily aware of how his body gave away clues - like secretive, subtle signs of genuine feeling. It had been almost the first real advice that Russel Fabray had ever taught Frannie - control your body to ensure no one can read your genuine thoughts. It was everything that Frannie had been trying, for her past three years at college, to move past. She wanted to share how she felt, desperately so. And yet, as Frannie's watched Cody's eyes widen, it was the first time since their accidental drunken meetup that Frannie felt as though this may have affected Cody too.

"That's me!" Frannie replied with a beaming smile, already beginning to root around in her handbag that she had hurriedly gathered together items inside for an emergency. One of them being some body spray, peach scented. Obviously. It was clear from Cody's tone that he was done. "At least take this." She told him firmly, passing across the body spray. "The last thing you need is to be smelling like that."

Part of her was tempted to stop Cody. To perhaps reach out and ask him why, all of a sudden, he was reverting back to iciness towards her. It felt disorientating trying to guess what version she may be greeted with from minute to minute, and yet Frannie couldn't help the temptation of trying to help. To ask if he was alright. Why did she even care? "Thank you again for helping the boxes. It's appreciated!"

[skinnyllopez]

as 100 melhores coisas para saber (parte 1)

(as 100 melhores coisas que eu achei na internet antiga, como a lista é grande vou postar 4 partes cada uma contendo 25 dicas)

001. Beba um copo d'água a cada hora. Isso fará você se sentir satisfeito;

002. Escolha um alimento para o dia, como uma maçã. Corte-a em 8 fatias. Coma 2 fatias no café da manhã, 2 no almoço, 2 no jantar e você terá 2 sobrando para um lanche. Dessa forma, seu corpo pensa que está comendo 4 vezes naquele dia, mas na realidade você só comeu 1 maçã. No dia seguinte, escolha outro alimento. Certifique-se de que seja apenas 1 porção, dividida em 3 ou mais ao longo do dia;

003. Não tente jejuar por dias e dias. Primeiro, jejuar por longos períodos de tempo desacelera o metabolismo; segundo, aumenta imensamente os desejos por compulsão alimentar; e terceiro, afeta muito o seu humor. Em vez de ficar feliz por perder peso, você ficará deprimido simplesmente por falta de comida;

004. Se você mora sozinho ou tem muita privacidade, cole fotos de suas modelos favoritas e sempre carregue uma com você. Quando estiver com fome, retire a foto. Se você mora sozinho, cole-as na geladeira, no freezer e nos armários (lembre-se de retirá-las ou cobri-las quando alguém chegar);

005. Use sempre gloss ou protetor labial perfeitamente aplicados. Isso te mantém bem atento ao que entra na boca e te faz pensar duas vezes antes de comer qualquer coisa, porque você terá que reaplicá-los com cuidado;

006. Se você está com muita vontade de comer, escove os dentes com uma pasta de dente forte de menta. Isso ajuda a afastar você da comida por causa do gosto que ela deixa;

007. Quando estiver com fome, faça algo nojento, como procurar minhocas, limpar a caixa de areia de um gato ou algo assim. Isso diminuirá sua vontade de comer;

008. Entre cada garfada, tome um gole de água. Isso te sacia e desacelera a alimentação, para que você mantenha o controle e a refeição não se transforme em uma compulsão alimentar;

009. Ao beber água, beba água GELADA... seu corpo precisa queimar calorias para manter a temperatura corporal alta;

010. Tome laxantes! existem laxantes naturais, encontrados em alimentos como ameixas e uvas. Além disso, existem certas pastilhas para tosse e doces sem açúcar que produzem um efeito laxante devido ao adoçante usado neles;

011. Tente comer no mesmo lugar todos os dias. Em algum lugar solitário. Não na frente da TV ou do computador. Se você tiver que parar o que está fazendo para ir comer, talvez nem se dê ao trabalho;

012. Coma o que você deseja. Mas coma antes de desejar com moderação. Por exemplo, em vez de uma barra de chocolate inteira, pegue uma pequena e coma apenas metade dela. Permita-se aproveitá-la. A privação leva à compulsão alimentar;

013. Durma pelo menos 6 horas por noite. Menos de 6 horas de sono por noite estimula o apetite em 15%. Muitas pessoas com transtornos alimentares sofrem de insônia, mas é realmente importante dormir o máximo possível. Não apenas para perder peso, mas porque ajuda o corpo a se manter saudável mesmo quando está morrendo de fome;

014. Sempre coma porções do tamanho de uma colher de chá de cada vez e mastigue bem. Você ficará mais satisfeito com menos comida, então não vai querer terminar o que está no seu prato;

015. Se você estiver com muita fome, compre um pacote de balas duras com baixo teor de gordura e calorias. Quando você as chupa muito, seu estômago lhe dirá que você está satisfeito;

016. Tente beber mais bebidas quentes. Líquidos quentes expandem o trato intestinal e fazem você se sentir mais satisfeito. Uma bebida quente pode ajudar a aliviar sua fome, evitando excessos mais tarde. Na verdade, a sopa pode fazer o mesmo. Os cubos de linguiça têm apenas 5 calorias por cubo e têm um sabor maravilhoso;

017. Concentre-se especialmente nas três primeiras mordidas. Depois disso, a excitação de comer começará a diminuir lentamente e você provavelmente ficará satisfeito com uma porção menor;

018. Alimentos apimentados aumentam seu metabolismo e queimam um pouco mais de calorias do que alimentos suaves;

019. Se você sentir vontade de comer, vá à casa de um amigo que você não possa simplesmente roubar a geladeira. Estar perto de outras pessoas fará com que você tenha menos vontade de comer, já que a maioria das pessoas com transtornos alimentares tem vergonha de ser pega comendo em público;

020. Quando sair, leve apenas alguns reais com você para quando pasaar em lojas fast foods não possa comprar nada;

021. Antes de devorar aquele pote de sorvete, pacote de batatas fritas, etc., respire fundo e conte até 100. Normalmente, quando você parar de contar, terá se convencido de que realmente não precisa daquilo;

022. Escreva um bilhete para si mesmo listando todos os motivos pelos quais você finalmente está pronto para perder peso. Mantenha esta carta com você o tempo todo, para inspiração;

023. Verifique sua cabeça. Nunca coma nada maior do que sua cabeça, nem mesmo alface. Você só vai esticar seu estômago. Treine seu estômago para se contentar com menos(

024. Se você adora um determinado alimento, guarde as embalagens mesmo depois de comê-lo. Sinta o cheiro quando estiver com fome;

025. Coma seus doces no café da manhã.

[nicolctta]

starter call.

Escolha um lugar + frase (001, 002, 003) + Mande AB para um starter com abel.

Escolha um lugar + frase (001, 002, 003) + Mande CH para um starter com charlie.

[art-luvies]

I'M GOING OUT TONIGHT | 003 CARRD TEMPLATE : FREE.

eng rules ! ― don't remove credits, subject to ban. ― for personal use only. ― carrd for roleplayers & others. ― feel free to suggest other resources. ― free template

pt rules ! ― não retire os créditos, passível de banimento. ― apenas para uso pessoal. ― carrd para roleplayers & afins. ― se sinta livre para sugerir mais resources na ask! ― é um template free, então não precisam de versões pagas do carrd.

demo | dl

[mxvick]

            *　  /　ia rebater novamente. ia insistir que tinha um ponto em tudo aquilo. com a iminente evidência de que acabariam em uma guerra, receber um título tão pesado não deveria ser ruim. colocar mais peso sobre a própria espécie podia assegurar a sobrevivência deles. podia tentar se redimir se vivesse para contar a história. mas não saiu uma palavra sequer da boca quando os olhos seguiram para a pele amostra da mulher. o som de vidro quebrando não era vidro, mas o próprio coração estilhaçando. " oh, amy… " a voz estremeceu. se levantou e foi até ela para abraçá-la. " eu sinto muito. " sentia os olhos marejando em resposta ao arrependimento que o tomava. agora entendia onde ela queria chegar. não queria que ela se ferisse em nenhuma circunstância, quem dirá por sua culpa. porque a culpa era sua. não importava quem tivesse causado o ferimento. " sinto muito mesmo, não queria que você tivesse se machucado… me perdoa. " por ter sido tão teimoso e não tê-la escutado de uma vez. não só pelo ferimento. " prometo que vou ser cuidadoso. não vou deixar que algo assim aconteça, não… não quero que alguém que amo se machuque de novo. " como se sentia naquele momento, não queria sentir de novo.

Amaryllis conhecia bem Maverick ─ a bem da verdade, deveria ser uma das pessoas que melhor o conhecia no mundo, e por isso sabia que o pavio curto do outro lobisomem se encurtava ainda mais em momentos de tensão como aqueles, e era nessas horas que o bom senso de Amy deveria prevalecer. "Eu sei que não se importa em arrumar problemas, mas essas brigas podem crescer para algo maior, Mavi. Se já nos veem como possíveis assassinos, o que você acha que vão pensar se sairmos distribuindo socos por aí?" Não sabia se era justo jogar a carta que jogaria naquele momento, mas talvez isso fizesse com que o melhor amigo pensasse duas vezes antes de brigar de novo: "E, às vezes, quando só pensamos em machucar alguém, podemos acabar machucando pessoas que não queríamos ferir." Com isso, subiu a própria blusa para mostrar o hematoma que já começava a se formar na região de sua costela, provindo da cotovelada ─ de Maverick? Do outro? ─ que levou quando foi apartar a briga. "Violência não vai fazer isso parar. Só vai nos prejudicar mais. E você é forte, Mavi, admiro você por isso, mas se continuar brigando, eventualmente vai encontrar alguém que vai te dar mais do que alguns socos."

[hydrangea-rs]

#003 — [LIFE Versión Oscura] " The Cradle of the Moon "

Luego de dos años, traigo una reversión y actualización de una vieja tablilla que usé en alguna ocasión.

PREVIEW — CODE

— No retirar los créditos. — No usar esta tablilla como base para otras. — Colores modificables. Generador. Para poder editarlo encontrarán la variable en el style de inicio de tablilla. — Iconos de Cappucicons — El tamaño de la imagen modificable es 500x220. — ¡Cualquier duda o problema pueden comunicarse conmigo!

Disfruten del código y que tengan buen día ♥.

El arte utilizado en la imagen pertenece a Guitaristkaz.

[moonagekiss]

Essa é uma cnn page para ambos os meus chars em um único post, porque não são muitas ideias e elas são bem específicas, mas são dinâmicas que eu considero legais de desenvolver e em sua maioria possuem lacunas legais da gente pensar juntos, quase como subplots! Qualquer interesse, pode comentar o número por aqui mesmo, dar like nesse post ou mandar pelo chat <3

STARDEW VALLEY (001) – Muse A, HARU e Muse C são pessoas interessantes demais para Saffron e, por gostar muito de todos, é comum que leve presentes aleatórios quando vai para a cidade – Saffron mora perto, mas não é na cidade em si, e sim na superfície da floresta mais próxima, em uma casa bonitinha com uma horta ao redor. Pode ser algo que ela cozinhou, uma receita de algo, algum ingrediente, alguma pedra preciosa que ela achou, uma roupa que ela costurou... Por não ser boa com palavras, ela gosta de demonstrar seu apreço por essas pessoas dessa maneira.

LITTLE MISFORTUNE (002) – Muse D não consegue ficar perto de Oden sem entrar em conflito. Não não, não tem nada a ver com qualquer implicação romântica (pelo menos não é esse o ponto aqui?), é que, por saber que o semideus sabe onde é mais seguro e onde é mais perigoso e, em teoria, consegue adivinhar onde alguém pode morrer, a presença da prole de Osíris acaba criando paranoias em sua cabeça, por mais que o próprio já tenha dito que não é exatamente assim que funciona, e que, caso seja uma preferência, ele apenas não irá dizer nada.

PALWORLD (003) – Muse E não consegue se dar bem com animais por algum motivo e, por isso, pede ajuda à Saffron para que ela investigue o motivo por trás do desgosto generalizado. Seja lá qual for a razão (podemos pensar sobre), Saffron decide ajudar a tornar Muse E gostável, começando por Calla, sua tigresa muito grande, muito forte e que rosna alto sempre que vê Muse E, mas Saffron garante (mais ou menos) que ela não vai fazer nada.

FATAL FRAME (004) –  HAZ deseja muito um objeto específico, mas não sabe por onde começar a procurá-lo, por isso, pediu ajuda à Oden. Conforme pesquisam mais a respeito da relíquia, Oden e Haz percebem que há um motivo para ele ser tão difícil de ser encontrado: a morte já o tocou mais vezes do que pode ser contabilizado, de forma que, até para Oden, seria perigoso tentar prever ou alcançar sua localização de maneira segura. Ainda assim, tentam bolar estratégias para que o caçador de relíquias consiga, finalmente, trazê-lo para Haz. Bônus: isso faz com que ambos se tornem amigos próximos. Detalhes sobre o objeto podem ser debatidos.

[transhater-bah]

new file found . [ frag : 003 ]

names : Medkit , Medz , Asa , Syri age : ageless , adult-coded , feels 30-ish gender : gender nihilism , gender apathetic , demiboy , nocyxic prns : he / him , they / them attraction : demiromantic , abro- , aroflux srce : roblox game : phighting species : robloxian , inphernal roles : soother , comforter , caregater , restorative anchor , personal caretaker

cisID : deer , legally blind , glasses , somatic symptom disorder , high-functioning anxiety transID : human , doctor , nulltrauma , osdd 4 / dissociative trance , low empathy

paras / kinks / etc. : mild algolagnia , iatrophilia

sign-offs / emojis : 💊 , 💉 , 🩹 , [text]-kit , med.[text]

personality / behaviours : Medkit functions primarily as an external caretaker, exceptionally skilled at soothing others' distress and providing comfort during crisis.

[violantdesires]

"No, you're right." he admitted, "I'm still just... adjusting." he explained, no wonder, as well: not only had Jack been though something extraordinarily traumatic, he'd also come out of that experience something completely different. Who wouldn't need an adjustment period? He refused to let himself sulk, though.

"I do?" he bolted upright? He'd completely missed what Gabriella had actually meant by what she said. Jack stood in front of the mirror only to see his eyes, crimson red, as was now usual. "Oh... I keep... I swear, sometimes, if I really focus on it, I can see them how they used to be." he admitted, "It sounds crazy, right? Vampires can't do that can they? Or the others would, right?" he rambled.

@violantdesires ♥ ( jack ) liked for a starter

"Something's up. I can tell." Gabriella stated matter of factly, yet her tone was as gentle and kind as she concerning expression upon her face. She sat down beside Jack, brown doe eyes scanning his face as though reading him. Of course she couldn't read his mind the way Edward could (though even he mentioned he had difficultly reading Jack's mind), but she didn't need a special gift to know something was bothering him. Gabriella explained, "You have the same look in your eyes you did when you were human."