#but that little bit feels so far away with no income and no time either during finals season

[st5lker]

i totalled my car which was my only source of income. help me afford food and a down payment on a replacement

the other day i got into a 3-car accident on the freeway. the car in front of me rear ended the car in front of him, and because of poor visibility on that freeway + bad reaction time because I was out of my vyvanse, i didn’t react in time and crashed into him. since i was at the rear without a dashcam, i won’t be getting anything from the other drivers’ insurance, and my collision coverage has a deductible which was basically the value of the car.

i was doing ubereats which was my only source of income, ive been rejected from dozens of fast food jobs and others because nobody wants to hire right now, especially a college student with limited availability. i also live 15 miles away from college in a city with awful public transit, so without transportation i have to worry about my grades in addition to income.

i had some savings before i crashed my car but theyre not enough to afford a down payment since i don’t have a credit score yet or anyone to cosign. its close, but still very difficult, and the longer i spend without a car (and therefore without income) the more difficult it’ll be as i use those savings on food or other necessities. i would really appreciate any help at all. any donations would go directly into a down payment or into food so i don’t have to spend what little i have for it.

c/sh app: $rosechxrch

v/nmo: @ rosechxrch

if you need my paypal please dm me. thank you

[wittlesissyb4by]

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Here

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.” Mr. Pennyworth says. 

It feels like a dagger has been shoved into my stomach. I’m not sure what to say, so he just continues anyway. 

“Your productivity is by far the lowest in the company, you’re not reliable to show up on time or even at all, and your long hair is unprofessional and not befitting of this company’s standards.” He clears his throat, sifting through some papers. “We also have reason to believe you called-in on Friday without actually being sick.”

“What makes you think that?” I say, finally speaking up for the first time. 

He shrugs, “Let’s just say we got an anonymous tip.”

******

“Everything alright with you?” Max asks, moving his pawn forward to free up his bishop. 

“I’m fine,” I say, half-heartedly moving my knight with no clear plan in place. “Lost my job today.”

Max frowns, moving his bishop out as I expected. “I’m really sorry, dude. That sucks to hear.”

“Yea…it’s fine, I guess,” I sigh, “Didn’t much like it there much anyway.” 

He still hasn’t said anything about the other day. I’m not sure if he actually saw anything, or he did and just doesn’t want to bring it up. How do you talk about seeing a bunch of sissy toys and diapers in your roommate’s room? Is that even something to talk about?

I remember back in college when my roommate at the time had found a slew of sissy porn on my computer. I was there when he saw everything. That sick feeling in my stomach took forever to go away. It’s back now. 

“Well if you start applying for jobs, you can always use me as a reference. Just say I’m an old manager or something.” He says, putting his Queen in a precarious position. I seize the opportunity and take it. I realize too late that it left my King open for an easy assault. An obvious trap I should have seen coming. 

“Checkmate.” Max says, smiling. 

******

As the weeks went by, so did the job opportunities and applications. I rarely received any callbacks, and even if I got an interview, I’d either get ghosted afterwards or they would call and say something to the degree of “after careful consideration, we’ve decided to go with another candidate.”

God, the job market is rough. 

My bank account is dangerously low. I probably should have done a better job of saving for times like this, but I guess I was more excited about buying outfits and diapers. Still, I’m not going to make it through the next month without some sort of income. It’s time to have the awkward conversation with Max. 

“Hey, man. Can I talk to you for a sec?” I say, shuffling my feet into the living room. 

He pauses the hockey game and turns to me, “what’s up?”

It’s such a weird topic to bring up, but I have to bite the proverbial bullet. “I’m having trouble finding a job…” I say sheepishly, “I didn’t work long enough at my last one to get severance, so…I’m a little low on funds.”

He just sits there, always with that stoic expression, listening intently. He doesn’t say anything, just lets me continue. 

“So…umm..I’m uh, gonna be short on rent this month.”

Again he continues to stare at me, as if deep in thought, stroking his beard. It almost seems a little exaggerated. Like he’s acting. 

“I see,” he finally says. “So you need me to help you?”

As demoralizing as it is to admit, I have to. “Yes…”

He smiles. “Okay. No problem.”

“Really?”

“Yea.”

I don’t know what to say. A weight of anxiety and fear is lifted off my shoulders. I can feel it melt away as I start to relax. “Thanks man, I really do appreciate it. I’ll find a way to make it up to you, I promise. Anything you need, just let me know.”

His eyes have a strange glint to them. Like he was hoping I would say exactly that. 

“I actually do have a job in mind for you,” He says, “You can start today.”

I sense a sudden shift in the air around the room. He leans back on the couch a bit, patting the seat next to him. I find myself sitting down beside him, not exactly sure what’s going on, but sensing something amiss. 

Max puts his hand on my leg, “it’s okay, nothing to worry about.” he says softly. I feel myself release a breath, feeling comforted, but still a little uneasy. 

It’s like he’s holding something back. Like he’s trying to find the words but doesn’t know how to say it. I wonder if he knows. If he saw the things in my room.

“I saw the things in your room.” He says. 

Yea, I’d say he knows…

My stomach does that familiar churning. The shame of what I've done, or been caught doing coursing through me. “I-i can explain…”

“Don’t bother.” He says, waving it away. “I’ve always had my suspicions.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I’ve always tried to be so reserved and secretive with my true desires. I didn’t think anyone else would notice. 

He shifts on the couch again. When he does, something catches my eye, there’s a very large bulge in his shorts. 

Noticing me looking at the log snaking down his leg, he starts running his hand over it and smiling. “Have you ever sucked a cock before?”

I realize my mouth is hanging open. I gulp, shaking my head. “Not a real one.”

He laughs at that, it breaks some of the tension, then he shrugs. “Well, there’s a first time for everything…” he gently pulls at his zipper, snaking it down ever so slowly. But he doesn’t pull it out, just leaves it open, letting my imagination run wild. “Do you want to suck it?” He asks. 

Again I find myself dumbfounded, this is all happening so fast, but before I can think about it I find the word escaping my lips. 

“Yes.”

He chuckles. “Good, because you were going to have to do it anyway. This place ain’t cheap.”

After our awkward laughter dies down, I’m left in the precarious position of what to do next. Luckily, he guides me after several seconds of silence. 

“Open my pants.”

I reach a shaky hand to his button, it takes me a bit to get my fumbling fingers to work it free. 

Again, I’m lost as to what to do next. Should we kiss? Do I close my eyes? What do I—

“Take it out.”

His direction helps. It’s easier for me to follow orders than it is to take initiative in such uncharted territory. I reach my hand into the waistband of his boxers, feeling around for it, my heart beating out of my chest. It doesn’t take me long at all to find the warm, fleshy member. I gently pull it back, it bends a bit before snapping out of the boxers to stare straight up at me. 

It’s big. Very big. I can barely wrap my fingers around it. The veins are popping out the side, and I can even feel his own heart beating through it. Pulsing. Rapidly. He’s just as nervous as I am but he doesn’t show it. 

“Well...it’s not gonna suck itself…”

I realize I’ve been staring at it for a while. I use my other hand to wipe the drool from my mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Somehow my throat feels both dry and wet at the same time, it doesn’t even make sense. Finally, I push past the nervous excitement, and lean forward. His cock seems to grow as it gets closer to my face. I’ve imagined this moment over and over for years. I’ve watched countless videos through the lens of girls wearing a GoPro on their head taking big, giant dicks into their mouths. But somehow this is different. I’m the girl now. It’s my POV, and it’s what I've always dreamed of. 

I open my mouth when I’m inches away and close my eyes, imagining I'm one of the girls in those videos. 

The head of his dick already feels different than my dildos. It’s squishier, warmer, and tastes just a little bit salty, but in a good way. In a great way. This is what I've always wanted, and I’ve finally gotten it. 

I hear a soft moan escape my lips just before they close around his cock. It sounds pathetic, but I don’t care. Things finally feel…right. Like this is what was supposed to be in my mouth all along. All those things they told me in sissy porn were true. 

I take him deeper in my mouth. I find it easier to slide it  down my throat than my dildo. I take it as far as I can until my eyes water, then go back up for a breath. 

In the overwhelming rush of stimuli, I forgot all the techniques I’ve practiced for so long. I try to remember: swirl your tongue, suction on the way up, not down, and most importantly: keep it nice and wet. 

I let the drool run from my mouth, using my hand to coat his cock with it, taking a breath before diving back down. 

“Someone’s been practicing.” He breathes. 

I melt at his praise. I always wanted to be a cocksucker, and I always hoped I’d be a good cocksucker. But you never really know, my dildo doesn’t make noises. 

But him? He was breathing heavily, moaning, groaning, and doing all the things that told me I was doing something right. It ignited a fire in me. With every grunt he made I found myself getting more and more enthusiastic so as to make it happen again. 

Leaning over across the couch next to him is a bit awkward, though. 

He notices. “Get on your knees.”

I take him out of my mouth and scramble a little too eagerly onto the floor between his legs. 

He looks down at me, almost victoriously, like his plan has come to fruition. I am in no way perturbed. In fact, my cock is screaming inside my pants. I don’t think I've ever been this hard in my life. 

“Looks like you’re enjoying yourself.” He says, apparently noticing my penis poking prominently through my pants. “You can touch it.” 

Is that his decision? I guess so…because as soon as he says it I find my hand going inside my pants. 

“No no.” He says. “On the outside. Rub it like you’re a girl. A sissy girl.”

Just the sound of that word gives me a wave of pleasure. I’m so hot and bothered that my body is quaking. I love the way he’s dominating me. Taking my power away so I don’t have to make the decisions myself, and therefore making me more relaxed about doing something I may otherwise have chickened-out on. Would I be here, on my knees, about to suck his cock if he hadn’t made me? Is he making me? Or am I doing it on my own volition?

I knead the front of my crotch. Feeling my throbbing cock and nestling my aching balls. I feel a bit weird with him watching me, so I turn my attention back to his cock. Well, more specifically, his balls. I’ve learned that when worshipping a man—as I’m doing right now—maintaining eye contact while lapping at his balls is one of the perfect ways to show your submission. I also know (from being on the receiving end) that having your balls sucked does not feel nearly as good as porn makes it seem, it’s actually kind of painful. 

So after licking his sack and stroking for several seconds, I spit on his dick and take it back into my mouth with renewed vigor. My own balls are aching at this point, I can feel them turning blue. I use two fingers and twirl them in circles over my pants while I bob up and down on Max’s dick. 

“Fuck yea…” he moans. God it feels so good to make him make those noises. “I’m gonna cum.” 

So am I. 

Knowing he’s on the verge gets me insatiably hot. I want nothing more than to get him to bust in my mouth, like some sort of primal need. 

I hear myself moaning again. I’m not sure if it’s from the pleasure I'm giving or receiving. 

“You want it in your mouth?” He asks considerately. 

“Mhmm!!” I swoon hungrily around his dick. My hand gyrates over my own. The thought of making a man cum in my mouth is too much to handle. I feel a warmth fill my pants as I shake and convulse, trying to keep my focus on his dick while I spasm in an intense orgasm. 

I feel the desire begin to fade. The reality of what I'm doing seeping in. This is my roommate, and I’m on my knees in our living room slobbering all over his big dick like a girl he just met on Tinder. 

“Ohh yea…” he twitches. I can feel the head of his penis swelling, even more than it was before. It gets me excited again. Eager. Desperate. “Right there, just like that! I’m almost there…”

I’ve never been on the receiving end of that statement. Guys saying they’re almost there but are actually a few minutes out. 

My cheeks are starting to burn, my throat is getting sore, it burns from the bile of gagging, I need air, to take a break and a breath, but I don’t want to lose my progress. I need to power through and do what I need to do. 

He grips the cushion of the couch. His legs flail and tense. The head of his cock is bigger than ever. His breathing becomes labored, syncopated, and then it stops. 

That’s when I felt the first gush hit my tongue. Even though I was expecting it, I wasn’t exactly ready for it. Another pump, and then another. I worry I won’t be able to hold it all. 

He gives a big exhale, and that’s when I know he’s spent. I hold his dick and his cum in my mouth a bit, not exactly sure what to do next. I suck a bit more to pull out any remaining drops, then take him out of my mouth. 

The jizz is warmer than I expected it to be, saltier too, but it doesn’t taste bad. It’s my reward. A token of my accomplishment. I just sucked my first real dick, and it was everything I hoped it would be. 

I gulp down the load, smiling gratefully like any good little slut would. 

“Good job.” He says, patting me on the head like I’m a well-behaved puppy. “Now run along…”

That’s it. He doesn’t say anything else. Just pulls up his pants, zips them back up, grabs the remote, and resumes the Hockey game. 

A little disheveled, I wipe the slobber from my mouth, get up, and head out of the room like a discarded toy. What did I expect to happen? For us to cuddle and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ear? I don’t even think I would want that. But to be thrown away like that makes me feel…used. 

Then I remember the wet, sticky stain in my pants. A reminder that I enjoyed myself, a lot. 

So I guess it’s no surprise that when I got back to my room, I shut the door, locked it, and started enjoying myself two more times…

To Be Continued

~~Click HERE to go see Chapter 3!~~

[alectoperdita]

Heeyyy there, can you do 36, 30 or 7 from the ask game???? Joukai of course. Thank uouuuuu!!!

From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game

36. Avalanche/huddle for warmth & 30. Only one bed

Ahhhhhh! Sorry this one took so long. It's longer than usual, though, so I hope that makes up for the wait. Thanks for your patience. ;;;_;;;

tags: hurt/comfort, minor injury word count: 3,265 words

---

Skiing was stupid. People who skied were even dumber.

Case in point, rich, arrogant good-for-nothing assholes skied.

Kaiba skied.

Jounouchi's argument was ironclad. Unassailable even.

"Watch it, you oaf," a voice colder than the biting wind howling around them snapped in his numb ear.

"I should leave you to become a popsicle," he grumbled, firming his stance in the soft, powdery snow and readjusting his grip on Kaiba, careful not to jostle the other man and set off another tirade of complaints.

"I could say the same."

The fingers burrowed under the fold of Jounouchi's scarf bit into the nape of his neck. Hard to tell if it was because of an involuntary reaction to pain or a deliberate warning. Either way, it and Kaiba's words took the wind right out of Jounouchi's sails.

Yeah, skiing might be stupid, but it was even dumber to attempt a slope above his novice ability only to get lost off the trail. Especially as a winter storm brewed. But he couldn't stand how effortlessly Kaiba made everything appear, so suave and eye-catching in his ski gear. Or how he turned up his nose at Jounouchi.

It inspired a familiar feeling, one that drove him to act recklessly.

So it was Jounouchi's rotten luck that Kaiba, as the most experienced skier in the group, ultimately tracked him down. Kaiba predictably berated him for his idiocy, Jounouchi snapped back, and they fought. And then, in a begrudging attempt to extract Jounouchi from a ditch, the man fell and busted his leg instead.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he studied Kaiba's beet-red face. Kaiba wore his ski goggles atop his head like a hairband, pulling back his bangs and exposing his forehead. So it wasn't hard to spot the pained grimace wrinkling his brow. Flurries clung to his long lashes, no matter how often he tried to blink them away. He was sweating buckets despite the frigid temperature.

Jounouchi sympathized with that. Underneath his thick winter coat, his own clothing stuck uncomfortably to his skin. He'd kill to be back at the lodge and enjoying a hot shower.

"We need to get out of the open," Kaiba declared.

Jounouchi swept a critical eye across the windswept landscape. There were trees and snow as far as he could see, but his range was limited. Visibility plummeted as the storm intensified.

"Can't you, like, call for help? Doncha have a satellite uplink on you all the damn time?" asked Jounouchi.

"Atmospheric conditions affect satellite communication," Kaiba sneered, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

It probably was to a guy like him. Jounouchi merely rolled his eyes and focused on their terrestrial concern, repeatedly putting one foot in front of the other to make the most painstaking progress. It was the only way they'd get out of this if they couldn't count on rescue incoming.

"Who would've guessed you had such dainty ankles?" he said, then winced when it sounded like a shout as the howling wind died down at that precise moment.

"Excuse me," hissed Kaiba, tightening his grip. Ouch, ouch, he was definitely squeezing his neck on purpose.

Jounouchi had already dug his hole, so whatever. "I think you need more calcium in your diet, dude. Ya twisted that ankle like nothing. If you're not careful, you're gonna start breaking your hip like 'em little old ladies."

"First of all, it's not a fractured ankle, it's a fractured tibia. Second, my calcium intake is fine. Better than yours, given the trash I've seen you shovel into your mouth. And third, I'm taller, which means I have a higher center of gravity, which affects..."

Jounouchi tuned out the rest of the rant. He could feel the nervous energy flowing from Kaiba to him. As long as Kaiba kept running his mouth, it meant he stayed awake and alert. It meant he kept working with Jounouchi to cross the increasingly treacherous and snow-blind slope.

A stark shiver wracked their bodies. Jounouchi paused to assess his companion again.

Kaiba's teeth chattered. Sweat blanketed his forehead. Neither were good signs.

"You okay? Cold? In pain?" he asked softly.

"Yes," was Kaiba's reply. Which was as clear and helpful as mud.

Jounouchi sighed and urged them onward. He could only guide them toward what he hoped was the downward direction and pray that they stumbled back onto the trail.

After limping for what felt like hours, their footsteps dragged heavier and heavier behind them as snowfall and fatigue weighed them down in equal parts. That was when Jounouchi spotted what he prayed wasn't a mirage beyond a thicket of trees.

Slanted rooftop, horizontal wooden slats, the glint of glass windows—a cabin!

Giddy from the sudden shot of adrenaline, he nudged Kaiba. "Hey, hey. There's a cabin up ahead!"

Kaiba blinked blearily. He'd grown strangely quiet during the recent stretch. Now, he squinted, scrutinizing the building in the distance, perhaps wondering like Jounouchi if it was real.

The decision made itself.

"Let's go. You know what? I'm gonna carry you on my back. It'll be faster." Jounouchi was already carefully lowering Kaiba onto the snow-blanketed ground while keeping the weight off his injured ankle.

"No," Kaiba snapped. He clung to Jounouchi's biceps.

"It'll be fine, ya stubborn bastard. I swear I'll never tell another living soul so your damn pride can stay intact. I dunno about you, but I wanna get out of the cold ASAP."

"And if you drop me? Or you break your ankles next? What then?" challenged Kaiba. There was an increasingly frantic light shining in his eyes.

"Trust me. I don't wanna die out here any more than you do!"

For several terrifying beats, Kaiba stared at him. His claws were locked in rictus, threatening to rip into Jounouchi's padded winter jacket.

"C'mon, we're both freezing our butts off."

Jounouchi didn't know what convinced Kaiba in the end. Maybe the poor bastard was too wrung out to pick a fight.

"You drop me and it'll be the last thing you ever do." The threat lacked teeth, though.

Kaiba's hands trembled as they released Jounouchi's sleeve. They shook when they planted themselves on Jounouchi's shoulders. Kaiba was heavier than anticipated. Turns out there was meat on those bones after all. But it was a weight Jounouchi could shoulder.

The strangest sensation by far was the hot and heavy feeling of Kaiba breathing down his neck. Yet it was a soothing reminder that Kaiba was alive. Jounouchi huffed and puffed the final stretch to the tiny cabin, but he never dropped Kaiba.

Once they climbed onto the raised porch, Jounouchi deposited him against the railing and shook the accumulated snow from his gear. Eyes drilled into his back as he pulled off his beanie and brushed his hair clean.

The dog comparison he was certain was incoming never materialized, though. Kaiba must really be tired.

Hobbling on his feet, Kaiba's gaze stayed fixed on the door. "How do you propose we get inside?"

"Uh... Key under the mat?"

Kaiba leveled a disgusted look at him. He banged twice on the door with his fist. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

Right. Also, wouldn't hurt to check if there were already people inside. Preferably someone who could help them and wasn't going to hunt them across the mountainside for sport. He blamed Bakura for that last thought.

Leaning close, Jounouchi peered into the window, straining to see through the gap between the curtains. It was dark inside. There was no movement. No one was home. That made sense. The ski racks out front stood barren.

They'd long abandoned their equipment, too. No point in dragging extra weight along when Kaiba was already injured.

"Stay here. I'll check around back," ordered Jounouchi before hopping off the porch.

He circled the perimeter. It hardly took any time. To call it a cabin was probably generous to someone like Kaiba. But it looked sturdy, and it offered shelter from the storm. As he passed one window on the side, he noticed a small sign in it that read "Ski Patrol."

He jogged back to Kaiba. "Cabin belongs to ski patrol. There might even be a phone inside!"

Kaiba turned and greeted him with a key ring dangling from his index finger.

"Where'd you find those?"

"Hideaway inside a fake rock." Kaiba gestured to a pile sitting in the porch's corner.

Jounouchi laughed. "So I was right. That's basically under the mat. God, I hope they're the spares to this place."

He was glad they didn't have to go with his backup plan of busting through a window.

Braced against the doorframe, Kaiba went through two keys on the ring before he unlocked the door. Jounouchi whooped in celebration. Then, he moved forward to shoulder Kaiba's weight and usher them inside.

To Jounouchi's relief, the cabin came equipped with indoor plumbing and even a gas stove in the open kitchen out in the main room. There was a small round table and several chairs, but nowhere to lie down. But in another interior room, he found a bed.

One cramped twin-sized bed squeezed between the wall and a narrow nightstand. There wasn't room for much else.

He went back to the main room to report his findings. Kaiba sat at the dining table where Jounouchi left him, but he had his injured leg propped up on a second chair, ski boot and all.

"Phone's down," Kaiba grunted. "There's electricity, but there's no telling how long the generator will hold up. It's best if we don't use it until we must."

Jounouchi groaned. Guess it was too much to hope for. "Cool, well, there's only one bed."

Kaiba stared at him, unblinking for long lengths. Yeesh, did the bastard really think he was going to fight an injured person for the sole bed?

He approached the table. "You should take it. You're the one with the busted ankle. Want me to carry ya, princess?"

Laughing, he barely dodged the ski goggles Kaiba flung at his head. Somehow, that restored the equilibrium between them.

"Make yourself useful and find a first aid kit," barked Kaiba.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Inside a kitchenette cabinet, he located a red bag with a white cross.

"Found it!"

A soft swear answered him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Kaiba hunched over his elevated foot, struggling with his bootstraps. Jounouchi heaved a sigh, and on his way back to the table, he grabbed an afghan blanket folded on a shelf. He deposited the first aid kit on the tabletop and the blanket onto Kaiba's head, where his hair turned damp from the melting snow.

Kaiba cursed, louder this time, his limbs flailing under the blanket. Jounouchi kneeled down next to him, shed his gloves, and started working the snaps open. Above him came a snarl. He peered up just in time to see the outrage on Kaiba's face melt into shock after he ripped the wool away. Fighting a sudden wave of self-consciousness, Jounouchi lowered his gaze and kept going. His fingers, slowly warming, fumbled briefly on the next catch.

He waited for Kaiba to say something. Anything. Bark an order. Throw an insult. But Kaiba had gone deadly quiet, howling in his silence. The behavior was so strange Jounouchi wondered if Kaiba also hit his head when he fell.

Either way, Jounouchi felt the other man's stare drill through the top of his head.

Next came the hard part: getting the boot off without further agitating Kaiba's injury.

Again, his eyes flicked up to Kaiba's face, where he noted the almost contemplative expression that now dominated its planes. "Ya ready for this?"

Kaiba squared his shoulders, then nodded.

Yet afterward, the man's forehead was drenched with sweat, his face stripped of all color. Jounouchi went straight to the first aid kit and fished out the painkillers. With trembling hands, Kaiba snapped up the packet, tore it open, and swallowed two pills before Jounouchi could ask if he wanted a glass of water.

Figures Kaiba was the kind of freak that could swallow pills dry.

As Kaiba slumped forward and placed his head down atop the table, Jounouchi helped him out of the other ski boot as well. He set the footwear, both emblazoned with fancy KC logos, aside.

"Thank you."

The words stunned Jounouchi. His head whipped up, and he gawked at Kaiba. He couldn't see Kaiba's face, but the tips of his ears blazed bright red.

After several seconds of awkward silence, Jounouchi replied, "That should be my line. You're the one that found me after I got my dumbass self lost. So thanks for coming to get me."

To his surprise, Kaiba didn't lift his head. His bangs smeared across the tabletop as he nodded, though.

"And sorry you got hurt because of that," Jounouchi added quietly. His eyes darted back to Kaiba's elevated leg, but the thick pants made it impossible to gauge the severity of his condition. "How bad do you think it is?"

The table muffled Kaiba's reply. "Are there scissors in that kit?"

"Yeah."

"Cut the pant leg up to the knee."

Knowing that the alternative was somehow peeling Kaiba out of said pants, Jounouchi obeyed without complaint. He worked carefully, though, not wanting to cut Kaiba. A gigantic bruise sat halfway up to Kaiba's knee, right around where his ski boot ended. The entire area was swollen, but there was no sign of blood.

"No bone pushing through the skin, so that's a good sign." Kaiba said, suddenly right next to Jounouchi's ear. His warm breath puffed over Jounouchi's cheek.

Jounouchi jerked back, grabbing the chair's back to steady himself.

Thankfully, Kaiba was too preoccupied with examining his leg to notice his overreaction. "I should splint it."

Jounouchi jumped to his feet. "Splint, yeah, makes sense. Ya need a stick or something, right? I'll look for one."

As luck would have it, he dug up segments of PVC pipes already cut in half. Kaiba also appeared pleased when he presented them, kindling a warm glow within Jounouchi's ribcage.

"Can I help with anything else?" he asked, despite not knowing how to make a splint.

Kaiba hesitated before replying, "I have it handled. But I'll let you know if I need anything."

Jounouchi nodded automatically. He bounced between one foot and the other as Kaiba worked. But when Kaiba peered up at him for a second, something inside him snapped. He spun on his heels before declaring, "I saw a firewood shed out back. Gonna see if I can get a fire going for us."

Without waiting for a response, he fled the small cabin. The cold hit him in the face like a slap. It was invigorating. Got his blood pumping in a good way.

It wasn't until he dropped several split logs that he realized he'd left his gloves inside. Instead of going to retrieve them, he sank to his knees and cupped his numb hands to his mouth, blowing hot air over him. He couldn't say how long he stayed like that before the chill finally drove him back into the cabin.

Kaiba barely acknowledged him when he returned. That made Jounouchi feel simultaneously better and worse. The bastard hadn't even waited for Jounouchi to return before he somehow hobbled his way over to the loveseat close to the fireplace.

He focused on the fireplace instead.

Once the fire got going, the temperature inside warmed considerably. Unsurprisingly, Kaiba had to be bullied out of his outerwear before he could be swathed with blankets over his shoulders and his newly splinted leg.

Save for the seldom pop and crackle of the fire, it was silent.

Kaiba glared at his smartphone, occasionally adjusting its position as if that would catch a stray signal bar. Jounouchi also checked his phone, but he was sure his coverage was shit compared to Kaiba's.

Jounouchi also hung up his jacket to dry and shed his ski boots by the door. He didn't hesitate snatching the quilt off the bed in the other room, huddling under it while standing next to the fire.

"You stand any closer and you'll catch fire," came a dry quip from behind him.

He turned to face Kaiba and found the man with his phone facedown on his lap while squeezing the bridge of his nose. He lay lengthwise along the too-small loveseat with his legs elevated on the armrest and his sock-clad toes peeking out from under a blanket.

Despite that, Kaiba looked cozy? Shit, Jounouchi felt a bit insane even thinking about that. But Kaiba appeared comfy. His sharp angles and harsh lines blunted under woolen curves.

Disarmed. Soft. Jounouchi had never seen him that way before.

"What?" snapped Kaiba, jerking Jounouchi from his hazy thoughts. When he shivered, though, the entire fabric mass shook with him.

"Still cold?" Jounouchi asked as he padded closer.

Kaiba dropped his gaze to his pale hands clasped on his lap. "Nothing to be alarmed about. I've always had circulation issues."

Jounouchi laughed. "Cuz you're a skinny beanpole."

Kaiba glared, but he didn't argue.

Another insane thought crossed Jounouchi's mind. One he shouldn't dare entertain, but being cold probably wasn't good for Kaiba's leg in his current state. He had already dedicated himself to Kaiba's well-being to this point. Might as well ensure neither of them became popsicles before Kaiba could get proper medical attention.

"Alright, budge up."

Kaiba should hurry. Before Jounouchi lost his nerves.

"Excuse me."

"Ya heard me. Make room. We're gonna share body heat."

"Why?" Kaiba's voice rose an octave. He gave Jounouchi a frantic once-over from head to toe.

"So we don't freeze, duh."

Kaiba looked at him as if he was insane.

Jounouchi felt insane.

"Look, you're still cold, and I'm not giving you this blanket too. It's the last one," he argued.

For a moment, Kaiba looked as if he might eject Jounouchi from the cabin entirely, busted leg be damned. But then a miracle happened. Kaiba, after lowering his gaze, scooted forward, leaving space for Jounouchi to join him on the furniture. With his heart in his throat, Jounouchi squeezed in, carefully wiggling until he bracketed Kaiba's tense form with his legs. Without asking, because he was positive the answer would be no, Jounouchi pulled the other man's back flush to his chest.

Kaiba stiffened. He froze as if he had been left outside in sub-zero temperatures. That gave Jounouchi an opening to slip an arm around Kaiba's waist, but he left the limb atop a layer of quilt.

From this angle, he could only make out the back of Kaiba's head and the tip of his flaming ears.

Kaiba remained strangely mute. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest signaled his consciousness. Another shudder wracked through his body, and Jounouchi could feel it, from the hissing inhale to the tensing of back muscles to the exhale and shoulder slumping under the woolen weight.

Kaiba stopped shivering afterward, though. So that counted as a success, right?

"Don't worry, I don't mind sharing the bed with you if you want a space heater there too," Jounouchi joked. A hard lump formed in his throat, and he fought the urge to tighten his arms.

In response, Kaiba elbowed him in the stomach. But it was a light touch for him.

Jounouchi wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was content to remain here. Just the two of them huddled under blankets until the storm finally passed. And when Kaiba leaned back against him, he gave the impression he didn't mind either.

Read other prompt fill ficlets here

[surftrips]

butterflies — part three.

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader

summary: after returning home from college for the summer, y/n runs into rafe cameron and the two form an unlikely relationship.

word count: 2043

a/n: little bit of a longer chapter, but i am having so much fun with this series! let me know what u think in the comments or my ask box :) masterlist.

You couldn’t believe what you were looking at on your phone screen.

Incoming call… Dylan.

Was your ex seriously calling you now, two months after the breakup? Weeks after you had begun spending nearly every single day with Rafe Cameron? 

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Rafe asked, sensing the anxiety coming from your body. 

You two were sitting in his car on a particularly hot day trying to cool down when the sound of your ringtone interrupted the comfortable silence. 

“It- it’s Dylan,” you responded, voice shaking. 

“Dylan? Like Dylan, Dylan? Dylan, your ex?”

“Yeah, yeah. Like my ex, Dylan. What do I do?” 

“Don’t pick up. Nothing he says can be good.” 

Even though you were the one to break up with him, you admittedly had moments where you found yourself close to pressing on his contact in your phone and apologizing. Part of you wanted to make amends, the other part of you was screaming to move on. 

Rafe agreed with this other part of you. After you had told him specific details from your relationship and how he treated you, he wanted you far away from him. 

You two continued to sit in silence as you stared at your phone and waited for it to go to voicemail. 

“Do you think he’s leaving a message?” you asked.

“Who cares? Come on, let’s go get dinner somewhere.” 

You hesitatingly agreed, but as you pulled into the drive-thru of a local burger joint, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the lack of a notification alerting you that Dylan had left you a voicemail. 

I care, you thought. I care if he still cares about me. I loved him. 

—

Rafe dropped you off at your house a little after 11 pm. You waved him off and started to head inside. 

You walked upstairs to your bedroom, ready to take a shower and settle in for the night. 

However, as you were about to turn on the water, the familiar sound of your ringtone broke the silence for the second time that day. 

You looked down at your screen, heartbeat picking up at the words.

Incoming call… Dylan.

What do you do? Rafe had made it very clear he didn’t like the guy. But this guy was the same person you had spent the last year and a half with. Maybe he deserved some closure after you had left him so abruptly? 

Suddenly, all of the bad things he had done to you were irrelevant. You couldn’t seem to remember why you were unhappy with him in the first place.

So, you told yourself it must have been muscle memory that you hit the accept button and pressed your phone to your ear, eager to hear a familiar voice. 

“Y/N?” he said. 

“Dylan?” 

“I didn’t think you would pick up.”

“I didn’t think I would either. What’s going on?” 

“I just… uhm.” You heard him cough on the other side. “I just wanted to see how you were doing, that's all.” 

“Oh.” Rafe would kill me if he knew I was talking to you right now. “I’m alright, how’s your summer going?”

“Good, good. Pretty boring, actually.” 

You sighed. He was never a good communicator. Rafe was always straight to the point. You liked that about him.

“Dylan, what do you want?” 

“What, I can’t call my ex and ask her how she’s doing without having an ulterior motive?”

You could tell he said that as an attempt to lighten the mood, but you were in no such state to joke around with him. 

“No, not really, considering we didn’t end on the best terms.” 

He was silent for a moment. 

“Okay, fine. I was thinking we should get back together— and before you interrupt me and say no, hear me out.” 

“Dylan, are you serious right now?” 

“I said, hear me out! You said you broke up with me because I was too attached to you, right? I was too codependent or something?” 

When you didn’t respond right away, he continued. 

“Well, I think I can be better now. Now that I’m back at home, I’m a different person. I think school was just making me stressed and I feel like I wasn’t in the right state of mind to be in a relationship.” 

“What happens when we go back to school then? You’ll go back to your old ways?”

“No, Y/N. I know better now. Look, I’ve realized what I lost, okay? I’m not stupid, I know how lucky I was to have you. I know that I wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, but please, give me another chance. I promise I will be better.” 

Again, you were silent. 

“Y/N?” he said after a while. “You still there?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I just… don’t know what to say. I mean, I broke up with you, why would you want to get back together? I thought you would hate me or something.” 

“I could never hate you, love. You know that.” 

Shit. That name always worked on you. 

“Can you just give me some time to think about it?”

“Yes, yes of course,” he said, relief evident in his tone. “I love you, Y/N. You don’t have to say it back or anything, but I do. I always have.” 

After you hung up, you allowed your body to crash onto your bed. 

Oh my god, what am I doing? Am I seriously considering getting back together with my shitty ex-boyfriend? He can’t be serious about trying again? 

On the other hand, you didn’t feel like there were many options for you. Clearly, your fling with Rafe was not going to end up in a committed relationship before the end of the summer. And back at school, well, you felt very insecure. 

Dylan was your only chance at any sort of social life at Duke. Without him, you would probably be in your dorm room every night watching shitty romcoms and eating takeout. Being with Dylan made you feel special, he made you feel seen. 

You remember how hard it was to make friends when you started college. How you found yourself struggling to keep up with frat parties and sorority recruitments, always feeling one step behind everyone else. 

What would life be like when you got back to school in the fall? You were ashamed to realize that many of your friends were Dylan’s first, and none of them had hesitated to take his side in the breakup. 

And he did say that he loved you. No one outside of your family had ever said that to you, let alone show you any form of affection. All throughout high school you watched as all of your friends began dating people, wondering where you went wrong. Were you not deserving of love as well? 

Dylan was the first person to make you feel loved and supported. 

Oh god, I fucked up, didn’t I? I ruined the one real thing I’ve ever known. 

—

Hey, wanna hang out today?

You were typing a response to Rafe’s text when you heard the doorbell ring. 

“Surprise!”

“Rafe? What are you doing? My birthday already passed!”

“Y/N, I know when your birthday is. Today is another special day, and I’m surprised you don’t know it.”

You racked your brain for all the possibilities: birthdays, anniversaries, holidays… 

“Oh god, it isn’t your birthday, is it?” 

“No, it is not. But that makes me sad you don’t know my birthday.” 

“Rafe, please just tell me what day it is.” 

“Why, Y/N, it is July 17th. It has been exactly three months since you broke up with that pathetic excuse of a man.” 

“Oh, oh wow.” 

“I know, right? Time moves fast when you’re single and thriving! Look, I even got you a little cake.” 

He presented you with a mini cake decorated with yellow flowers that read Congratulations! in blue icing. 

“I couldn’t find one that said ‘Congratulations on being single!’ at the grocery store so I settled on this one. They really need to start expanding their selection,” he said. 

“Rafe, I don’t even know what to say.” 

If not for last night, you would have been swooning over this gesture. It was quite literally one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for you. 

However, last night did happen and you felt awful. Here was wonderful and caring Rafe Cameron at your doorstep presenting you with a cake for breaking up with your shitty ex, and now you had to tell him you had decided to get back together with said shitty ex. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” 

Rafe was always so good at sensing when you’re off. You hated that about him. Dylan could never read your feelings, and maybe it was because you didn’t want him to. 

“I’m sorry, is this too much? Am I overstepping? I thought it would be a fun little thing to do, but—” Rafe was beginning another one of his apology spirals and you weren’t going to let him continue. 

“No, please. This is amazing of you and I genuinely appreciate it so much. I appreciate you, so much. I’m so grateful for our friendship…” 

“But?” Again, he could tell that something was wrong. 

“But, I’ve decided that I’m going to get back together with Dylan.” 

Now, he was speechless.

You continued, “He called again last night. We talked, and he said that he’s going to try and be a better boyfriend. He’s had some time to reflect this summer, and he really loves me, and I don’t know I…” 

Now it was Rafe’s turn to interrupt you. 

“You really believe that?”

“What?”

“You really believe that he’s going to be better? That he’s going to be any different from how he was to you last year?” 

Rafe Cameron, always straight to the point.

The thing about being straight to the point is that it sometimes feels like a shot to the heart. 

“I’m not naive. Or stupid,” you said, anger growing in your voice. “Yes, I really do believe him. Because I know him, and I know he loves me and I’m sorry if that’s so hard for you to believe, that I can be loved, but it’s true!” 

“Y/N- that is not what I was implying at all.”

“Then what were you implying?” 

“I just mean,” he sighed. “I know guys like Dylan. They don’t change, ever. They talk a lot of shit but their actions stay the same. You deserve someone so much better.” 

You scoffed, “Don’t you see? There is no one better! No one else is going to want me or love me the way he does! Before him, no one ever looked at me! I was invisible!” 

Rafe’s face was beginning to break. His facade was cracking. 

“You call how he treated you love? Y/N, he wouldn’t let you go anywhere without him! He pushed you away from all your friends and family, and now, now he’s manipulating you into getting back together with him!” 

Tears were beginning to stream down your face now, but you didn’t care. You never wanted to see Rafe again. He made you feel like a little girl again, someone who couldn’t make her own decisions or take care of herself. He had diminished your feelings and cast them aside, for what? Because he didn’t like Dylan? 

Well, he didn’t know Dylan like you did.

“Can you please just leave?” you finally asked. 

Rafe Cameron always knew when to stop pushing. “Y/N, I just want you to take some time to think about this. Text or call me tonight, okay?” 

You nodded silently, having already made up your mind. 

—

Surely, they are just friends. Rafe would never do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Y/N. She has come to mean the world to him, and losing her would be like trying to breathe without air. 

As he walked off from her house that morning, frustrated at himself and at the world, he thought I care, I care about you so much, I might even care about you more than you care about me. 

Then, I wish I could tell you.

—

TAGLIST: @holy-macncheese-balls @everythingmarveltopgun @maybankslover (let me know if you want to be added!)

[giggly-bun]

Hey! Idk if this would be too much to ask, but could you possibly please write a fic with Lee! Kaveh and Lers! Alhaitham, Cyno, and Tighnari? Maybe it can be a twist on the dinner scene at the end of his hangout quest when it’s just the four of them and they tickle Kaveh to make him cheer up a bit! Some really good verbal teasing that would make Kaveh all cute and flustered would be amazing as well 👀

Thanks!

Cheers to That {Sumeru 4}

A/N [WARNING THIS IS A TICKLE FIC] if you don’t like it, don’t read it. Sorry for any mistakes that i’ve made but i hope if you read this I hope you enjoy it. i hope it’s up to standard for everyone and thank you for your patience anon <3 - bunny 🔮

Why was he so useless? Everyone was just messing with him, they didn’t really want him around. How could they? He brought nothing to the table and everyone only sticks around for pity and-

“Kaveh!” 

His head shot up at the call from Tighnari. The blond looked around and realised that not only was Tighnari staring at him, but Alhaitham and Cyno too. They looked like they were expecting something from him. 

“I-I’m sorry, what did you say?” The blond replied, stammering over his words as he tried to shake off the dark feeling welling up in his chest. Why did his eyes feel hot? Tighnari looked at him with a concerned look. 

“It’s your turn to put down a card, Kaveh.” The fennec repeated, realising Kaveh was too lost in his thoughts to know what was going on. Said blond jumped a little and placed his card down while muttering out some brief apologies, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away without an incoming interrogation from his friends and roommate. 

“Kaveh, is everything alright?” Cyno asked, and it made the architect wince a little. 

“You don’t seem quite yourself tonight, you’ve barely touched your drink either.” Tighnari reiterated, gesturing to Kaveh’s full plate and half empty cup. Kaveh just gave an awkward laugh and shook his hand. 

“Pfft, what’re you guys talking about. Nothing’s wrong with me, I’m perfectly fine.” He said. As some sort of proof, he backed the rest of his drink and put it back on the table with a smile, “See? I-I’m just not really in the drinking mood right now.”

"Kaveh." A low and brooding voice said. Of course, the sound came from none other than his roommate, Alhaitham. "What's the matter?" He asked. Naturally, after being around each other for so long, the scribe knew Kaveh better than anyone, much to his dismay. The blond sighed, glancing back around the room at his friends, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Was the room always this small? Wait- why did his cheeks feel so wet-

"Kaveh why are you crying?" He heard Tighnari speak, or perhaps Cyno- When was the last time Alhaitham said anything? It was a terrible feeling, being out of control of your body, yet being acutely aware of your surroundings simultaneously. Before he knew it, there was an arm around his shoulder, and he was facing Alhaitham, the gray haired man having sat himself right next to Kaveh in the flurry of emotions. 

"Kaveh, I need you to just breathe for me." His other half said, tone low, but concern lacing every fibre of his words. "You're safe here, just relax. Breathe with me." He repeated, and Kaveh did as he was told. With each breath he started to feel more and more relaxed, his worries beginning to dissipate as he realised he was, indeed, safe with his friends. Shortly after he had calmed down, Cyno and Tighnari joined them at the other end of the table. "Kaveh, is everything okay? You can talk to us about whatever is bothering you, we're your friends." Nari chimed in, rubbing comforting circles on his back. Kaveh rubbed the tears from his eyes and sighed.

"I-I'm sorry about that, it's just that I thought you guys might be better off without me here. I was just thinking about how I don't really contribute anything to the table as far as our friendship goes, so I apologise for ruining the mood." He looked around apprehensively, expecting his friends to judge him. Instead, he was greeted with looks of worry.

"Kaveh, that is absurd." Cyno spoke first. "We have you around because you are our friend, and we are happy to have you around." The general put a comforting hand on the architect's shoulder.

"I agree with Cyno. Kaveh, you're funny, kind-hearted and a general delight to be around. And there isn't a chance that you ruined our evening, you never do."

"If anyone ruined the evening tonight, it was general Cyno with those lame jokes he is always spewing." Kaveh looked at Alhaitham with a small smile on his lips.

"Hey! They are not lame jokes, they are funny, you just lack the comprehension for my humor." Cyno rebutted.

"To understand your humor, the joke would have to be funny first." And so, their bickering began, Cyno dishing out more jokes to which Alhaitham and Tighnari groaned, while Kaveh watched the scene play on. He had to admit, he was glad the atmosphere wasn't awkward, and he found himself giggling at the hilarity of the situation. His three friends looked over at the sound.

"See, even Kaveh thinks my jokes are funny, you two should take after him." Cyno stated, a proud smile etched on his lips from the thought that Kaveh was laughing along with him.

"Cyno, while I appreciate your efforts to make us laugh, I must admit the jokes are pretty lame." Tighnari barked out a laugh at Kaveh's response, and Haitham turned away, concealing a chuckle under his breath. The Mahamatra sat back with an offended look on his face, scoffing slightly.

"Kaveh, my dear friend, I thought you were on my side."

"I am! It's just that they aren't the best jokes." 

"Well, if that's how you feel, then I suppose I should give you something to truly laugh about."

"What do you me-EHE! Cynohoho nohohoho!" Kaveh squealed in delight. The other two looked down to see what Cyno was doing, and they quickly realised the situation when they saw said general skittering his fingers up the length of Kaveh's sides. The architect squeaked, attempting to bat the other's hands away, but like a true warrior, Cyno didn't back down.

"I think you mean, 'Cyno yes!'" he chuckled, moving his hands to scribble at the grooves of Kaveh's ribs. "Now, what kind of friend would I be if I just let you sit there with a pout all night." Kaveh lurched at the new feeling, thrashing his body vehemently, and ultimately backing up into Alhaitham, his counterpart sitting with a faint pink hue on his cheeks.

"Guhuhuhuys hehelp me! Plehehehease." Kaveh begged through his cries. He kept his hands pawing at Cyno's while calling for the others.

"I don't know, Kaveh. You do seem pretty happy, perhaps this is what you need to pick yourself back up." 

"Nohoho Nahahari I ahaham fine! Hehehelp mehehe- GAH!"

"I suppose I could help, just this once." He heard the fennec reply as he shuffled closer. "Say, Kaveh, what are your worst spots?" Kaveh's eyes bugged out of his head comically, the question sending shivers down his spine.

"Why wohohould I tehehehehell you!" He squealed out when Cyno hit a particularly ticklish spot on his ribs.

"Because we just want to make you happy. I'm sure Alhaitham knows, don't you Alhaitham?" There was a beat of silence while the two lers looked over at the man who had stayed silent throughout the whole ordeal. Kaveh took the opportunity to breathe, and he looked at Alhaitham wearily, because he most definitely does know. 

“I have no knowledge of Kaveh’s worst spot.” He said, tone flat, and Kaveh thanked his lucky stars that he was playing it safe. 

“S-See? So, let’s just get back to- AHA! NAHAHAHA!” 

“I do, however, know the spot that makes him scream.” 

That bastard!

Alhaitham had silently lifted his index finger and began to drill it into the center of Kaveh’s upper back, toggling with the muscles in a way that, in fact, made Kaveh scream. He thrashed and tried to move back away from his junior, but Cyno kept him in his place by putting his legs over Kaveh’s lap. Oh, Kaveh almost cried. 

“PLEHEHEHEAS- NOHOT THEHEHEHERE! HAIHIHIATHAM!” He screeched and squealed, face burning as the noises he made echoed into his own ear. 

“Wow, he’s really ticklish there.” Thighnari said, ears twitching at the sound of Kaveh’s ears. 

“He’s got a cute laugh, I’ve never seen him so giddy.”

“STAHAHAHP TALKING LIKE IHIHI AHAHAHAHAM NOHOT HERE! NYAHAHAHA-“ Alhaitham changed the pressure in which he was tickling and it sent the poor blond into new bouts of laughter.

“Indeed, I’ve found it’s an effective way to shut him up whenever he talks nonsense.” Haitham said smugly, not being able to hide his smirk any more. “He also cannot stand it when I do this.” Using his four fingers, he began to rake them up and down the stretch of exposed skin shown through the back window of Kaveh’s shirt. Curse that shirt! Kaveh almost flew out of his seat, jumping 6ft in the air at the sensation. 

“DOHOHON’T- I CAHAHAHAN’T I HAHAHATE YOU!” 

“No you don’t.” 

“He never laughs this hard at my jokes.” Cyno huffed out.

“That’s because Kaveh is more ticklish than you are funny, obviously.” That comment earned Nari a flick to the ear.

It was terribly ticklish in the worst way possible, but why was he not hating this as much as he should be? I mean, he never truly minds when his friends tickle him, it was just humiliating, emphasised by the blush spreading to his ears. 

“OKAHAHAY- ACK! ohohoOHOKAY I GIVE! I GIHIHIVE I’M HAHAH-“ His laughter dipped into silence, only being heard again when a snort broke the quiet. “I'M HAPPY! nohohoho mohohohore!” Fine, they’d had their fun. Alhaitham removed his hands, watching Kaveh shakily sit up and avoid eye contact with the rest of the group while he caught his breath. 

“Are you feeling better, Kaveh?” Cyno asked, facing him with a small smile. 

“Yohohou know whahat? I actually am, I think I needed that, thanks guys. But you all owe me another drink!” 

They laughed at that, and thus the drinks kept coming, and Kaveh had forgotten his earlier troubles in favor of living in the moment with his friends. 

[softhanni]

2024 Media: 60. HeartCatch PreCure! (2010) - 9/10★ First of all... I am sorry for the WALL of text incoming asdfghj, I'll put it below a spoiler line

When I first saw the designs for this season I hated the artstyle and thought I wouldn't enjoy the season because of that but as soon as I started episode 1 that worry went away because the artstyle was so full of character and life. I think the designs are pretty basic but not bad (I'm not the biggest fan of Cure Sunshine's hair though) but the bright colours did help a lot. The fairy designs too were cute, though I HATED them pooping out the heart seeds every episode (what a sentence.) Potpourri was SOOOO cute though, one of my fave fairys so far!! I didn't care too much about the villains, they weren't boring and had their own distinct personalities but they didn't stand out that much to me either. The villains' whole turning the world into a desert thing didn't really make sense to me and I think it was one of the weaker villain plots so far imo. But omg the characters, their development was done so well!! Tsubomi: I LOVED LOVED LOVED that our lead cure wasn't the genki stereotype, it was SO refreshing. Not only that but I loved that she became more confident in herself and willing to go outside her comfort zone whilst keeping her core personality traits and not becoming an entirely different character. It was nice to see essentially the celebration and acceptance of a more timid and introverted character! Erika: She was by far my fave of the show, whilst she barely had any development imo and the bit she had was very lackluster, I find her character to be super interesting and I love that she says exactly what she means and I think she was the perfect character to give the comic relief trope to. Itsuki: Imo I really liked Itsuki's development and to me it at least felt as if they handled the gender nuance fairly well. I like that it wasn't "I want to accept my femininity but I'm made to be masculine bc I fight" and instead Itsuki accepted all of her hobbies. Yuri: Super interesting character, I do wish she would've had more time to shine and more lines but her character arc was darker than I thought would be included in precure honestly and I LOVED that. I think her character was written incredibly well and everything she said and did held significance. This season kinda reminded me of shugo chara in little ways which I'm a big fan of. I think the heart flower was interesting and I liked how they always included the meanings of the flowers too. Overall a pretty solid season. I feel it had a bit of a stagnance in the middle for me but the last few episodes went SO hard. Fave eps: 8, 14, 16, 18, 19, 25, 26, 28, 33, 37, 38, 41, 44-49.

[etoilesombre]

im intrigued by "swimming" !!

For the WIP ask game (swimming also requested by @b1uetrees) ty for the asks y'all. this has actually been in my drafts forevvvvvvver so I'm copying this from the LAST time it got requested in an ask game. Honestly I should just post what I have, because mostly all that is left to write is the sex and believe it or not I'm kinda burned out on that. Anyway, this is most of a draft.

This was something i started for an event a couple years ago but ended up doing a different prompt, and never picked this back up. but the prompt was basically 'swimming lessons for Silver to learn to swim again after he loses his leg, with either Flint, Madi or both.' i went ot3

[context: basically they are all drinking and hanging out in maroon village one night during s3-4 break, and silver makes a self-deprecating comment about not being able to swim and flint is like 'that's silly of course you can, we'll try it sometime' and tipsy imperious queen madi goes 'why not now?' and takes them night swimming] [madi and flint are already doing better with each other, don't ask questions this is happy verse]

The trail is short, only a few hundred yards to a place at the top of the lagoon on which the settlement sits, where it is fed by a waterfall so that fresh waters meet the incoming tide. They are well out of sight of the camp, though the glow of the great bonfire is visible over the trees, and the distant, exuberant  sounds of Maroon drums and pirate fiddles are still audible. It feels like the entire settlement is Madi’s home, and she has taken them from a grand party into a quiet, private chamber. 

Cliffs rise up to form the back of their little cove, the sound of the water spilling over the precipice musical as it tumbles over rocks and down into the calm lagoon, like the sound of the warm summer rains that fall here. But the mossy bank onto which they emerge slopes gently down toward the water. Clusters of night blooming flowers perfume the air. 

“This is a good place,” Madi says, stopping. “Shallow here, and by the rocks, but it’s deep enough to swim properly nearer the cliffs.” 

Flint has come this far, but now he feels flustered, awkward as a school boy. He’s not going to go *swimming* with Silver and the Princess, it's a stupid idea. Why did he come? 

Although the water does look appealing. In truth he loves to swim: the solitary rhythm of it, the power of the sea, exhausting himself until returning to the ship is a challenge that demands everything of him and leaves no room for thought. 

But this is different. 

Silver looks between them expectantly. Flint thinks he doesn’t feel quite comfortable with this, either, but clearly he would follow Madi to the ends of the earth, so he awaits her signal. 

She kisses Silver on the cheek, takes a drink, and hands him the wineskin. Then she undoes her belt and pulls her shirt out of the loose, flowing trousers she wears, and Flint doesn’t know what he thought was going to happen---he’d been trying desperately not to think of this part---but he didn’t truly expect that she would calmly undress in front of them both. 

“Now, wait a minute…” 

“Don’t worry, Captain, your precious British modesty is not in danger.” She’s teasing, but he wonders if she knows him enough yet to realize the depth of the challenge there, and suspects she might. “When it is your turn to undress, I shall avert my eyes until you are in the water.” 

Silver, goddamn him, is *giggling.* Certainly he doesn’t seem protective of Madi, which stings a bit. Flint isn’t sure he wants to be quite *that* unthreatening, though he does value the implicit trust. 

“This… is not what I was expecting from the evening,” Silver breathes, appreciative, as Madi’s garments fall away one by one, then seems to remember that he probably shouldn’t be watching so blatantly. He helps himself to a healthy swallow of the wine and hands it to Flint, who takes an even longer pull because fuck, he needs it. 

“Nor I. She’s not an easy woman to refuse, is she?” 

“I can hear you, you know,” Madi says cheerfully, stepping out of the rest of her clothing. She is turned mostly toward the water, revealing the graceful curve of her back and hip, and she casts a look back over her shoulder directly at Flint. “What I am about to do, do not attempt it. I know where it is safe. I will meet you.” 

Flint watches in disbelief as she saunters off to the cliff face and begins to climb lithely up. He has an urge to shout at her to stop; doesn’t she know that drinking and climbing waterfalls is a good way to get killed? He’s lost men to this kind of stupidity and she doesn’t need to show off. 

Hell, when had he become a clucking mother hen? He forces a deep breath and watches the bunch and pull of her muscles, much stronger than he’d realized, appreciates the economy with which she moves.  

“Goddamn,” breathes Silver next to him, face full of awe, and of course it isn’t Flint she’s trying to impress. She stands poised at the top of the cliff for a long moment, then, without warning, she dives. They both gasp. It’s not really that high, perhaps twenty feet, but for an instant she is perfectly suspended in the air and she looks like a bird in flight, arms outstretched, silhouetted against the sky. Then she turns her body gracefully in the air, brings her hands together above her and slips head first into the water with barely a splash. 

There is a moment of absolute stillness. Then she breaks the surface, laughing. “Come on then!” she calls. Silver moves first, removing clothing without further hesitation, and Flint sees no choice but to do the same. They don’t look at each other. At least, he very studiously does not look at Silver, and it's only from a corner of his eye that he sees Silver strip completely, as Madi did. He’d thought they could at least keep the dignity of their undergarments, but Silver is giddy and unthinking, naturally eager to be naked with his lover, and Flint refuses to be the prude in this situation, so he lays his clothes aside. 

In fact, he is so determined not to look at Silver, not even to *think* of looking at the newly bared expanses of his skin, that it takes him some time to notice that Silver has sunk to the soft bank, all happiness drained from his face. He has removed the peg from his left leg and is staring into the middle distance, coming to terms with his own set of inconvenient realities. 

It makes Flint’s heart ache, and without further thought he goes to where Silver sits and offers him a hand, because Silver will sit there all night rather than ask. Flint’s limbs are still loose and heavy with the wine, his thoughts syrupy slow, or else he probably would have hesitated a great deal more before putting his exposed prick at the same level as Silver’s face. As it is, he doesn’t see the tableau they create until it's too late, and then he can’t *stop* seeing it. He is not, thank God, fully hard, but he’s not exactly soft either; this evening has been full of suggestiveness to which he is not immune, and Silver is sitting so close before him, it would be so easy for Flint to bury a hand in his curls and guide his mouth forward… *fuck*. 

“Come on, up,” he says gruffly, like he would if they were training and he’s once again knocked Silver on his ass. That snaps Silver out of his reverie; he clasps Flint’s forearm and allows himself to be pulled to his feet, thankfully without looking at him too closely first. He wavers a bit, then throws an arm over Flint’s shoulders and allows himself to be helped out into the placid water. 

It truly is a perfect spot, the water barely cool against Flint’s skin, the gradually sloping bottom made of soft white sand, and he tries to focus on the way it yields beneath their steps, on the shine of the moon, the distant rolling of waves from the ocean, on anything other than the weight of Silver’s arm around him, the nearness of him. The way they’re carefully not looking at each other. They’ve lived together for months now, seen each other undressed from time to time, and it hasn’t been a problem. Perhaps Flint has glanced, but he has discipline. And it has been incidental, momentary, nothing like the intimacy of supporting Silver’s weight as they make their way deeper, feeling the tickle of long black hair on his own shoulder, smelling Silver’s scent, the salt of sweat and something sharp and wild beneath it, which he would be able to tell apart from a hundred other men. His pulse quickens. 

This is hell. 

He is almost able to resist, but when they are thigh deep in the water he forgets himself and steals a glance. Silver’s cock hangs heavy between his legs, also half full. Flint has known Silver is a well-made man, but to see something of the extent of it, of what it would be like to— He swallows hard and quickly looks away. Silver’s attention is, unsurprisingly, focused elsewhere. Flint follows his gaze.

Madi, true to her word, is ignoring them entirely, cavorting under the waterfall like a proper nymph. She stands on a little rock ledge behind the fall, letting it obscure her like a veil, then dives through it into the deep pool before climbing back up. Sometimes she swims to the bottom, as if fetching treasures. 

It’s jarring to see her like this. It's true that the Maroons don’t seem to particularly value concealment of the body; it’s perfectly common to see women with their breasts exposed, and in some of the ritual dances, men, heavily painted, appear with their genitals uncovered. Which Flint has paid no mind. It only means that this isn’t necessarily significant; people have their different customs and there’s nothing untoward here, it is only being so shaped by the conditions of his own repressive nation which makes it seem so to him. 

Except Madi is not unfamiliar with their customs. She knows exactly the significance of what she is doing. Had they been alone, it would have been either a seduction or a strange play for power. But her lover is here, and Flint can’t figure out what she’s trying to accomplish. 

He’s not ready to let himself consider the obvious. He wants it to be true too badly, and doesn’t trust his muddled mind to read the situation correctly. 

Maybe she’s merely young and drunk, and wanted to go swimming. 

The water is to their waists now, a bit above. He extricates himself from under Silver’s arm, though he still holds on to it, steadying him. Silver looks at him for the first time in what feels like forever, and his wide eyes are so full of tender, fledgling hope. There is no color in the darkness, but he knows the exact shade of blue they’d be, paints it over them in his mind. 

“Will it really work?” Silver asks, and he’s never sounded so vulnerable. 

“Course it will. It's mostly saltwater, you couldn’t sink if you tried.” 

Unbidden, Flint remembers sinking. He’s never told Silver, but he was still conscious when he fell. Conscious enough to know that, shot and beaten as he was, to stand a chance of reaching the surface he would need to struggle out of his heavy boots and coat at least, and then remembers seeing an empty bay where the *Urca* should have been, and realizing he had killed Gates for nothing. Conscious enough to let himself sink instead of fighting. He remembers feeling hands on him, pulling him up before everything went dark. 

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Trust me.” He squeezes Silver’s arm, then lets go. 

Silver wavers, manages an awkward hop or two, and then plunges forward. Instinctively he steadies himself with his arms so that although it’s shallow he is half treading water; he founders only for a moment, and then he discovers the trick of propelling himself forward, slicing through the water with his arms and pushing his foot off of the bottom. 

In moments he has made his way to deeper water, and when he regains his footing it rises partway up his smooth chest, lapping at him just under where dark nipples are pebbled. He can stand easily now, the water balancing and supporting him. He tests his newfound abilities, moving a few easy, floating steps, and a broad smile spreads across his face. It's like watching the breaking of dawn, or the sun emerging after a long and terrible storm. 

“Captain! I--- I can…” Silver dives under the water and surfaces laughing and full of wonder, rediscovering his former grace.  He’s only a few paces from Flint, close enough to see that he’s almost vibrating with excitement. “It’s so *easy.*”

There’s a breathless moment between them, a moment when recklessly he imagines Silver will embrace him, but neither of them moves.

“I know,” Flint says softly. “I should have thought of it.” He’s glad for the darkness, hopes it will conceal the tears pricking at the back of his eyes. He aches with all of the things he should have done for Silver, should have considered, should have given him in return for his terrible sacrifice. His eyes cut to Madi, who in the short weeks of their acquaintance has shown Silver more of love and joy than Flint has known in years. She’s lounging on a rock shelf a few feet above the deep pool, watching with an almost proprietary air of approval. 

Silver follows his gaze and brightens even further. 

Madi dives back in and swims to them without breaking the surface, popping up just in front of Silver. 

“Madi!” he cries and picks her up, delighted, and tries to spin with her, but her added weight changes his balance in the water and they topple sideways, splashing under the surface, only to emerge laughing and sputtering. Madi shrieks in feigned reproach and Silver catches her in a firm embrace. It's like watching the play of puppies. 

Until it isn’t. Until she takes hold of Silver’s face and stretches up to kiss him, and his hands slide down her back, out of sight under the water. They shimmer in the moonlight, pale against dark, her delicate form pulled flush to his broad, muscled one, a perfect image of lovers from the dawn of time 

The kiss deepens, and Flint turns away. He shouldn’t be here, is intruding and doesn’t want to be able to picture what he can’t have. Silver seems to realize it at the same time, breaking away from Madi and speaking to her softly, casting a sidelong look in Flint’s direction. Flint tries to act as though he finds the view of the jungle enthralling.

“I don’t think your Captain objects,” Madi says, her voice pitched to carry. Her eyes find Flint’s and hold them, as if they share a secret. Her words are heavy with implication. “You don’t object, do you Captain?” 

Fuck. She knows. 

The weight of the realization descends on him, the danger, and he can’t force enough air into his lungs; he’s been trapped into this and will be exposed for exactly what he is because *she knows.* “I--- I don’t know what---” He stammers foolishly. 

Silver is just looking back and forth between the two of them, bemused, his hand still resting on the curve of Madi’s spine. 

“Answer me,” she says in the affected, imperious tone she has been using to play with him all evening. His frantic mind catches on that, puts information in order. She knows, and what has she done? Skillfully engineered this absurd situation. He meets her eyes again. They’re warm and reassuring, despite her tone, waiting for him to see it. 

This isn’t a threat. It's a fucking invitation. 

[emsprovisions]

Matt Tholomule HC’s

• Steve is twelve years older than him, and he was pretty much always the one taking care of Matt growing up.

• Steve and Matt share a dad. Steve’s mom is out of the picture, and Matt’s mom is nice, she treats Steve like her own, but they’re both busy witches and Matty was their little surprise. So they rarely had the time for him, which is why Steve stepped up to raise his little brother. Once Matt was old enough to stay at home on his own, and Steve left for the emperor’s coven, he had to learn how to get by on his own, which is how he ended up as one of Bria’s “friends” at Glandus.

• After enduring so much bullying, troublemaking, and detention at Glandus (a lot of his acting out had stemmed from absent parents growing up and now feeling like his brother had abandoned him), his parents finally decided to transfer him to Hexside, hoping that Matt’s dad’s alma mater would do his son some good.

• Matt isn’t poor, but his family doesn’t have a lot of money either. Being the youngest, he got a lot of secondhand items from Steve, whether it was clothes or electronics. This is partially why Steve left to go join the Emperor’s Coven guard at 18, because he’d had a lot of trouble finding a path for his life and being a guard would at least bring in some steady income.

• Matt hung onto every one of Steve’s letters he received while his brother was away in the guard. He kept them hidden behind his collection of worn Blademage books.

• Matt became obsessed with Blademage after Steve introduced him to the series, on one of his visits home. Matt felt lonely, he had no friends at school and with his parents and brother gone, he collected unique interests to pass his time. He often went exploring the Titan by himself. One day he was walking on the beach when he saw a lady digging through a ton of trash and finding treasure. He recognized her as Eda the Owl Lady from her wanted posters posted all over town. (And yes, if he’s done odd jobs for Tibbles, he’s definitely done some odd jobs for Eda.) He rooted through the trash after her and became interested in the human artifacts he found. He started a collection and researched what he could on humans and the things he’d found. He was actually excited to learn that Hexside had a Human Appreciation Society, he just felt insecure and guarded, desiring to establish his place in Hexside society as a bully because he would not get bullied at another school.

• He started pursuing construction because of his parents. All his extra energy was perfectly channeled into the track, and it was a practical career move. Lucky for them, he is good at it and he does like it. But it wasn’t until Gus introduced him to illusions that he actually felt like he’d found his calling in school. “Illusions ARE practical!” He argued with his parents when he wanted to take on illusions as a track, “Augustus taught me how to do this.” Once his parents realized he was driven and passionate about this, they relented and let him do both.

• Matt developed a crush on Gus sometime after their first trip to the ruins. But he sure as hell would not admit it. He felt stupid for crushing on his only friend, felt like he would fuck it all up and lose Gus if he knew. Besides, it was Gus, and he was so far out of Matt’s league that it wasn’t even funny. But Matt’s also a bit oblivious because he never noticed the signs that Gus liked him back, until Gus actually confesses to him a good while after everything starts to return to some normalcy after the Collector.

• Matty has the biggest potty mouth anyone can imagine. He tries not to swear around his parents, but when it’s just him and Steve home, he lets the floodgates loose. Which is convenient because Steve is just as bad, if not worse.

[bekkathyst]

Alright everyone I have a few things I want to talk about, so if you’re interested in supporting us by buying crystals from us during a little bit of a hectic time, please read on 🥰

So as you all most likely know, me, my partner Antonio, and our toddler daughter just moved to Austria. I’m a citizen here (so our daughter is as well), my partner is not. He is allowed to be here for 90 days without a visa, and it was our plan within that time to file the papers we needed to file for him to get residency here. We ran into some bumps when I found out I needed to obtain a criminal background check from the USA in order to establish my business here. I got some bad information that first of all, my past income history from the US would be enough for immigration authorities to approve, and also that I didn’t need a background check to get a business license. It took 2 months to obtain a background check from the US. (Which means I’ve not had an income for 3 months now) So I also found out that since I’m self employed, they want to see that I have a lot of money in my savings and that I can make a sufficient income here. Now that I have my business license I can finally sell again and show them that I do in fact make a living with my business lol.

We just have a slight time crunch problem. Our appointment with immigration authorities is on Monday the 18th. Which means I have time to do exactly one tumblr sale before then. I have one sale to prove to them that I’m capable of supporting my partner so he can stay here. I’m really nervous and I am really questioning if I should even mention this but I’m just worried and I really think it’s important to be transparent with all of you. All of this explanation to basically say… if you’ve bought from us before and want to support us in a time of need or if you have been waiting to buy from us and have wanted to… now is a really, really good time. We could really use the support.

I also want to make sure that it’s also a really good experience for all of you. I’m getting new, nicer packing materials, I have a collection of little gifts to throw into each order, etc. I really want to be able to make this worthwhile for all of you and thank you so much for your support in the first place. I know everything has been chaotic for the last couple of months, and I can’t wait to straighten everything out.

That being said, it takes a couple months for immigration to give their decision and Antonio’s last day of being allowed to be here is August 10th so either way he will have to leave for a while and stay with his family in Mexico. The difference being that if we have everything the immigration authorities require on Monday, we will get his papers approved faster and he won’t have to be gone too long. Facing this reality has been really difficult for us. In the span of our 10 year relationship we’ve barely spent time away from each other, and certainly not this far away. And of course the hardest part for him is that he will have to be away from our daughter for a while. But we are really hopeful that we will have everything immigration requires and things will move quickly. I’m done crying and feeling despair and ready to get everything together.

So basically all of that was to say, if you’d like to support us, please tune into our tumblr sale this Friday (July 15th) and we will be opening our website back up again in the next couple of weeks that will help us with his travel expenses. Of course I wish I could go with him, but I have to stay here and establish our business again and make sure we continue to have a nice stable place for him to come back to.

You’ve all been here through so much and I really deeply appreciate all of you. 🌸

[mysticqueer]

‘working theory’ - ch.1/?

takes place during day 8 of Ray’s route- what if MC put together the connection between Seven and Saeran all on her own?

Your thumbs hovered uselessly over the digital keyboard.

Zen and Seven were talking in the chatroom, mood far more somber than usual. If you were silent for too long, they might start to get concerned. Which, well-- you almost wish they were. But for the sake of your safety you needed to give the impression that nothing was wrong.

Which made bringing up the next topic of conversation nonchalantly a real challenge.

MC: Hey Seven... can I ask you a random question?

Your heart pounded as you mustered the courage to ask even that. It wasn’t like you had any solid proof behind your theory, just a gut instinct. The hours you spent staring at Seven’s ridiculous cosplay photos, the icy way that Ray spoke about the redheaded hacker...

You knew, deep down, that this was likely a bad idea. But your curiosity always got the better of you. That’s how you’d ended up in this situation, after all. You felt like you were being watched, a constant presence over your shoulder, watching your every move. Of course, you knew it wasn’t just paranoia. Saeran was surely watching you over the cameras right now, just like always. You fought the tension trying to take over your body.

707: I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to answer

707: depending on what it’s about.

707: but you’re always free to ask. what’s up?

Seven’s serious tone, as always, hurt your heart just a little bit. He was normally so upbeat and quirky. The events of the last few days were clearly weighing on him.

You tell yourself, unconvincingly, that it will be fine. It’s not as if you’re sending out a flare for help. You aren’t technically doing anything you aren’t supposed to. You take a deep breath and type.

MC: Do you... have a brother?

...

Silence.

Then...

- 707 has left the chatroom. -

Your blood turns cold in your veins. You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting. You’d been hoping, perhaps, for some lighthearted, joking reply. Something that would disprove your theory once and for all.

Zen is typing something, but you pay little attention, your thoughts racing. Suddenly-

Incoming Call - 707

You should reject it. You should really reject it. You’re almost certain that Saeran knows about what you said, and you doubt he’ll be happy. Talking further to Seven would only be digging your grave even deeper. At this point would it be better to tell the truth, ask for help, and hope for the best? Or to try and play it off as nothing, dissuade his suspicions?

You hit the ‘answer’ button without thinking.

“MC?” Seven’s tone is light, with barely concealed tension and urgency. He’s trying to hide how your question affected him, you’re almost sure. He’s a secret agent, normally so good at hiding his true feelings. Hearing him like this... emotions so barely concealed, was unnerving.

“Hey...” you answer lamely. Play it off, or ask for help? Do you even have time for either? The blinking red light of the security camera in your room feels like hot breath on your neck.

“MC, sorry about leaving so suddenly, but I... why did you ask me that?” Seven asks in a tight voice. He can’t seem to quite collect his thoughts. You can relate.

“Oh- it’s nothing, I just, uh... saw somebody who I thought looked like you...”

A sharp intake of breath, and then... nothing?

“Seven?”

“...”

You look down at your phone, and find the screen blank. No phone call. No messenger. Just error text. Your heart drops.

BANG

The door to your room suddenly slams open. In steps the boy in the suit with white hair, his eyes furious.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His heart pounding, his breaths shallow, Seven-no, Saeyoung, types rapidly at his computer. He’s most certainly Saeyoung now, not Seven. Thirty seconds. It took thirty seconds and a single line of text to strip away his carefully built armor named 707. Now it’s just Saeyoung, his hands shaking as he tries desperately to restore his connection with MC.

Why would she ask him that?

The question itself had been one thing. It could have been innocuous. But MC, and her situation, were unbelievably suspicious at best. Even though he believed MC herself to have no bad intent, her situation and relationship with the hacker was sketchy enough to make him wary of trusting her.

Why would she ask him that?

He’d called her on impulse, which may have been a bad idea. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t how her voice had sounded, quiet and so hesitant. Scared. She’d sounded almost scared.

He hadn’t expected his connection to cut out so suddenly, lines of reckless and aggressive code pasting itself over his screen in almost an instant.

Saeran... Saeran was somehow involved in this.

In what manner, he didn’t know. But clearly, this hacker, who was unbelievably and scarily efficient, didn’t want him to know.

He... he needed to call V.

V. The man’s name was starting to feel like a bitter taste in his mouth.

But first, he needed to get back into contact with MC. He hoped to God that she was alright, but he also knew better. For the sake of MC, and for the sake of Saeran, he needed to find the truth. He needed to find them before-

Connection Restored

Saeyoung didn’t even have time to breathe as he frantically opened MC’s contact and hit ‘call’. It was definitely going through. He’d broken through the hacker’s code, and the phone rang on the other end. He felt like a statue, completely and utterly still.

There was no answer.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

I’m not sure if you wanted writing requests or just general asks, but feel free to treat this as either.

Consider: in the halo infinite that could have been, the infinity is trying to manage a flood outbreak on zeta halo. Blue team has been split up to prevent total party loss, and Chief is in the thick of an infestation trying to get to some manual important button thing. His ai, (whoever that may be) detects an uninfected human not that far from his path, so he heads over to check it out and finds a Foreunner stasis chamber containing what looks kinda like a Spartan, if the armor was much more advanced.

Chief cracks it open and there’s a bit of confusion because he doesn’t speak any human languages until the guy sees some incoming combat forms. He grabs a gun from somewhere and he a Chief start blasting away, working surprisingly well together considering they can’t communicate. Chief realizes the guy can understand his nonverbal signals, he they make their way to the objective with little trouble and Chief calls the infinity for pickup.

They get back and everyone is curious but Chief’s really the only one who can talk to him until Rolland (who made contact with mystery guy’s suit ai the moment he came aboard) figures out the other ai knows Foreunner. Cue some awkward conversations (because while Halsey’s made some laps they still aren’t 100% on the Foreunner) and then it comes out that this guy is an ancient human. Not only that, he was basically the master chief of ancient times. After the humans lost the war the Diadact couldn’t stand seeing his rival be devolved so he put him in stasis instead and he just kinda got forgotten.

Anyway then blue team gets back and that when the shenanigans start. (Bonus he sleeps in their bunk room because they have the space and the beds are strong enough plus he bonded with Chief) Anyways yeah enjoy.

This is a cool idea and I wholeheartedly support people creating what they wish Infinite could have been.

I must admit I'm fuzzy on all the Forerunner stuff because I cannot be made to care about the Didact/Iso-Didact/Librarian and the Human Ship leader stuff. I am not a fan of the geas and the eugenics stuff in halo, I liked it better when Chief was just a guy. That being said I don't want to rain on anyone's parade.

Halo has the space to do so much and I would rather the Flood come back than them pulling a jj abrams and not plotting out their storyline and shoring it up with The Endless or The Banished or The Nothing.

I just want to see Blue Team and established characters again. I want the stakes to go down and there to be character moments.

[winterswhite]

One thing I've been talking about for a while that's entirely a personal gripe I have with the game is A3's event system and how draining it's gotten to play events. I had a little conversation earlier about the game's income declining over the years and I do honestly believe that and the decrease in player counts in recent events are largely because of the event system. I don't think the game's income has decreased enough for us to be worried about it shutting down though so I'm not talking about that and I don't wanna hear anything about it either. I've dealt with games shutting down before and I know the signs.

Anyway. Event system. It feels like they keep adding event types that cater to whales (PR events are super expensive, and the new Spotlight events are similar with the 2.7mil SSR+ reward and the redistributed SSR rewards from points vs ranking). The main issue I have, which as far as I'm aware I'm not alone on, is how damn hard it is to get finales in events, which is only worsened by the increased SP cap now that we have more to spend in one go after being away from the game for a bit or ranking up. In my own experience, it's easy to go 30+ minutes without getting a single finale and not everyone has the time or patience for that? I know I don't. People have other things to do and can't always be using their phones or playing games on them, and even if you just leave the game on auto while you do those other things, you'll still have to check on it for shows, and it'll still drain your phone's battery.

Other tap tap games I've played have some sort of safety net to avoid problems like that, like enstars basic guaranteeing you at least one rare live per event lesson, and while it's no longer active, On Air used to let you stack up to four event recordings at a time so if you let the game play itself for a while, you could come back and ideally at least one of those would be a 3☆ recording. Other games have similar guarantees or rate-ups or just...anything to make the event experience less of a pain. All we have in A3 is...one guaranteed show per practice, and that's, more often than not, a matinee or soiree.

On top of that, this is probably just me, but I feel like practices in A3 go really slow, both with auto and without, and the auto-cancellation of specific show types is just as slow. That makes it feel like each practice takes forever, which really doesn't help (again, I've gone 45 minutes without a finale on more than one occasion).

I'm really just complaining but...I wish they'd make some kind of tweak or improvement to the event system. They only need to change one of these things to make the event experience exponentially better, whether it's by increasing finale rates, adding a guarantee of some sort, or speeding practices up. It's...not a big request to make, I think? But it'd make things so much easier for me and a lot of others who I know struggle to play the game anymore because of how draining it is.

I know gacha companies aren't our friends, but we have jobs or school or other things in our lives to deal with and waiting half an hour for a single finale just isn't worth it in the middle of all that. It's actively harming their revenue too, so it'd really be in their best interest to change things a little. I still love A3 and I want to keep reading and translating the stories and other content because nothing can replace this story and these characters in my heart, but it'd be nice if I could be as enthusiastic about the actual gameplay aspect.

[placeinthisworld]

i am relating to SO much of what im reading on ur blog rn. do not get me wrong - i LOVE ttpd and love taylor. it's kind of one of those things that's like "always have, always will." im always going to be so grateful for her work and this community, and as i said - i AM loving the music rn!

BUT. she feels different, and feels so far away. i know we are not owed her time or attention, but when you've built your entire brand on fan connection and being "different" than any other celebrity in that regards, it's going to feel off and unexpected when it suddenly stops with no explanation. most of her little interaction is on tiktok, which is half the time not with actual fans, but rather anyone who uses her song in the background (which a lot of times is influencers!) ppl say "yeah but now she does so much more for us" .... yeah... so many new THINGS to buy.

i also think she's at a place where she KNOWS she is on top of the world rn (good for her!) but it has come with a complex - she knows now she doesnt NEED to be close with her fans, doesnt NEED to use her platform for good, doesnt NEED to take constructive criticism - because the gp likes her enough to where she doesn't even need a strong centralized fanbase. as of rn, no opposition can make a dent in her fame or income and she knows it. and it feels icky, and honestly makes her feel less human (which is interesting, because the ttpd is imo some of the most raw humanlike work)

the new social circle is off too. i dont hate travis, and i was happy for her, but have come to like him less and less since realizing he's a bit sleazy and is kind of only liberal for pay. he's publicly made r*pe jokes and xenophobic comments in the past couple years (NOT from 15 year old tweets! recent!) his dad is also super transphobic and mahomes brother is a charged SAer yet taylor gallavants w both of them. travis just seems like an oaf and while im glad she had something more easy and fun, it's telling that there's been a lack of backlash towards him when he's exhibited the same behavior as matty and the only things taylor could write ab him were sports and high school references. i hate to even touch on her personal life like this but god forbid this is a forever thing :/ omg this is a lot but yeah im glad we're having this convo

yup!! bestie your feelings are so valid and i feel very very similarly about everything!!

she knows she doesn’t need to appeal to a niche audience of tween girls anymore. she knows she’s beyond that. fate worked its magic and now she’s america’s it girl without any of drama of having to censor her work. and while yes i’m very proud and happy for her, you’re exactly right, she’s more than happy to continue to push things for us to buy in order to feel close to her. she’s already established a group of life long fans by those who she’s interacted with, invited to things, sent money too etc. so she really doesn’t have to do anything else besides make more music and have the world speculate about her personal life. at the end of the day she just feels sooooo disconnected to us now, compared to how we used to have it at least.

ugh i knew icky meathead was sleazy without even needing taylor to bring him into the limelight but now everyone and their mom is obsessed and up his ass too. EVEN with all those gross things about him (we all saw the recent commencement speech excuse 🤢) he’s definitely democratic for pay. i definitely don’t think he’s gonna stick around forever, either he’ll fuck up and get caught w another girl or she’ll get bored of his ass (speculating that this is a legit relationship and not PR at least lol) she’s a girl that needs a new boy every now and then i fear.

generally i’m just disappointed in her now in a lot of aspects. but completely disconnecting from the world, acting like a whole ass genocide is not actively happening, only ever promoting of talking about herself or her own work just seems so bland and selfish. she’s mentioned voting like what, twice this year? in generic ghost written sentences on an IG story?

[wellwhatisnttaken]

Nesta finds him sitting on a tree stump, far away from the house. A cigarette perched between slender fingers.

She goes over to him; she figures someone should.

Of course, he can hear her coming, and she expects a witty remark, maybe a self deprecating joke, but he stays silent. His shirt is halfway open, pants untucked, barefoot.

“Hey.” She says. That’s always a good starting point. His face looks waxy in the early morning light. His tan cheeks grey and hollow, his eyes sunken and dark. He doesn’t respond to her. Just keeps puffing and looks at the incoming dawn.

“Scootch”

He does. Shuffles away from her, and she wraps her fluffy robe tighter around herself and plants herself down next to him on the stump.

She holds out two fingers, and he finally looks at her, the barest hint of surprise dusting his sallow expression. But he delicately places a cigarette between her fingers, and snaps his fingers when she motions for a light.

She inhales, and it’s smooth. The smoke settles something deep within her. She hasn’t smoked for many years, not since before. Now, though. She might pick up the habit again if it disgusts everyone enough to leave her alone. And the shivers she gets from the rush is a nice feeling too.

Nesta crosses her legs and leans forward on them.

“That’s a neat little trick.” She says casually.

He attempts a little huff of laughter. It’s not convincing at all.

“Feyre’s worried about you.” She flicks the end with practiced ease, and watches the ash float to the ground.

“No she’s not.” He says right back, through a mouthful of smoke.

“She’s worried about the business i bring. What i can do for her. Need to keep your tools well maintained don’t you?” He sighs, long and deep. The exhaustion radiates off of him in waves.

The first rays of dawn crest the horizon.

“Eris is worried, he’d never say it, but he is. Jurian’s worried. Underneath all those crude jokes and innuendos, he’s worried about you. Vassa, too.” She says.

He shrugs, and closes his eyes as the sun kisses them.

“ I don’t want to do this anymore. Nothing’s new. Nothing’s changed. Always someone at the top kicking out the latter. Someone vying for more. I never wanted more. Just… i just wanted something. Anything. A little bit of anything and I would’ve been happy. I’m tired, Lady Death. I have nothing left to give.” He squashes his cigarette against the tree.

“So stop giving. I know this isn’t want you wanted for yourself. I’m not exactly where i want to be either…” a long silence hung in the damp air.

“We could probably kill ourselves now and be done with it. It’s not a horrible idea.” She snubs her cigarette, just a filter now.

“But we live long lives. And we might miss something beautiful if we get impatient.” Nesta looks at him. Usually his skin glowed in the daylight. Not now, though.

“It’s easy to talk about patience when you’re 30. I’m 304. I’ve been alive since before your great grandparents walked the earth. When you spend centuries trying to survive, searching for meaning only to find pain… it gets maddening after a while. I have no one who can understand what i am. Where I’ve been, who i am. I don’t even know. It’s like I disappear every time someone looks away. I only exist in your perception.” His shoulders slump forward and he rests his knobby elbows on his knees.

This is no place for inhibitions, so Nesta reaches her arm around his shoulders, leans to the side, and rests her head between his shoulders. His skin is cool and clammy.

“Knowing yourself isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. That just means you’ve seen every part of yourself. That’s boring. Being unsure means exploring into the unknown parts of yourself. It’s an adventure,” she can hear his heartbeat. Loud, even, here.

“Have you seen everything Nesta?” He asks her, a hint of amusement dancing in his tone.

“Not even a little bit.” She replies.

They’re silent for a while. The sun rises, and shines. The birds chirp, and life moves around them, but they stay there, in the moment.

“Would you like to?” He finally asks. He sits up, and so does she. He tilts his head and looks at her.

“More than anything. Sometimes this place feels so small. Or big. Like I’m a bug., in a tiny little house.” She looks up at the sky, it’s bright today. It’ll be warm.

He laughs, this time it’s almost genuine. An idea forms in her mind.

“So let’s go. Let’s go see everything. If we feel like killings ourselves out there too, we can always come back. So why not just do it?” She asks. She nudges him with her knee.

“What about Feyre? And the others?” What about Rhysand? Do you think he’d let us leave?”

Nesta reaches into his shirt pocket to fish out the pack of cigarettes.

“Well, if he tries to stop us, he wouldn’t be the first man to try. Probably won’t be the last. But you and me? We’re cockroaches. Unkillable. Slippery. Fast. I ripped magic from the cauldron itself. He’s not gonna stop me.” She motions for a light and he obliges with a small quirk of his lips, almost a smile.

She inhales and lets out cherry smoke into the glorious sky.

“Are you suggesting a prison break, Lady Death?” He asked. A familiar slyness lacing his voice.

She turns to look at him.

“That I am, Little Fox. That I am.”

———————————————————-

[monvante]

tag game: post 3 snippets from published work, and 3 from your wips.

i was tagged by the lovely @theharrowing! since i haven't published any of my works yet, i'm going to share snippets from three of my wips. feel free to ask me about them. i'm going to tag: @axialitae @ugh-yoongi @caelesjjk @wintaerbaer @archivedkookie @ressjeon and anyone else who would like to participate.

lust academia╱ knj x f!reader

Namjoon’s standing by the door, scrolling through his phone, brows furrowed and completely focused on the task at hand.

“I ordered pizza. You can stay for dinner,” he says, so casually you’d barely notice his invitation if it wasn’t for the fact you’re just so hungry. “If you want.”

“Thanks, but.. I was gonna cook myself some dinner-”

He raises his eyebrows, deadpanning at you.

“Didn’t you say your tap water was… I believe the word you used was.. shit?”

He never curses - which earns a heartfelt laugh from you when you hear him say it, with his chest so full.

“Yeah,” your nose wrinkles. “I just don’t wanna take up more of your time, so..” 

You shrug, hands in pockets, feeling a little too small. You don’t like the feeling - like maybe he’s taken mercy upon you and now all you can do is desperately return the favor. 

“Don’t sweat it. You can pay me back some other time.” 

He walks out of the room, just as quickly as he entered. 

You’re kind of at a loss for words. You didn’t take Namjoon for a bad guy, that’s not the thing, but- you also didn’t take him as someone cool and kind. Looking at it now, it makes sense why he intimidates you sometimes: he’s so at peace with himself, in a way you couldn’t ever be.

petite mort ╱ kth x f!reader.

For the most part, Taehyung stayed away from the court and its state of affairs. He didn’t like meddling in human politics and presumed His Majesty would call upon him if needed — no services were off limits.

Except for one small thing, of course. He harmed no children and no women either. Most certainly no one above eighty years old as well — the latter being a preference of his own, given elderly people tasted bitter and rancid, being of no use for a picky vampire such as his own.

It came as a rare, but pleasant surprise when your father had requested his presence at the palace. You had heard of something such as vampires roaming around, though had never truly met one. More often than not, they remained both a myth and a fascination among low income villages outside the kingdom. A few knights had whispered of beings lurking in the shadows, but you deemed yourself far too smart to believe these rumors.

Of course, when Kim Taehyung entered the doors of your sacred home, you were bewildered to learn he was real, and even more bewildered to know your family had kept his existence a secret all along. There was no sign of a single wrinkle in his face, but he possessed a certain wisdom only an ancient person would. 

He would stay for a few weeks in one of the private chambers reserved for the King’s most special guests — which didn’t go beyond some of his favorite cousins and friends. So when the days passed and you’d see the shadows of Taehyung to and fro the palace’s parlors and hallways, you casually glanced his way in curiosity. 

The vampire was forbidden territory, you were no fool. Not even your father had to mention it beforehand. It was simply the way he exchanged a few glances with you that gave it away. He seemed curious too, but unlike you, it was a dark kind of curiosity which could lead to many regrettable moments.

The temptation would last for weeks, each time just a little bit stronger than the previous day. 

fortress of the heart ╱ ksj x f!reader.

You never wanted this. Not a throne, not a crown, not an ounce of your father’s power.

But as the single heir to a mad man, you were crowned Queen, with little to no say in a ruthless game of politics and heirs the second after your father welcomed death with open arms. 

They said he was a mad King. One who trotted into battle twelve years ago and died on the battlefield  ─  in a war which he had crafted with his silver tongue, a cursed touch and an unstoppable temper. Crumbling alongside his men wasn’t as redeeming a quality as he made it out to be, and so you were left with a kingdom in ruins ─ and a rising war ─ when the crown fell upon your head at the age of eighteen.

There was no glory, no death, no poetry that could redeem the acts of mercilessness of your father.

Each year seemed more threatening than the previous one, as rebellions struck the capital and the conditions worsened for your people. There hadn’t been many options left, you feared. One of your ladies in waiting had cowardly suggested you give your throne to your cousin Tyon, Duke of Illyria, but you refused to stand in the shadows of another man yet again.

A noble turned king would grant nothing, aside from all the women eventually succumbing at his feet ─ which you suspected was the least awful of his intentions. Still, rumors around the palace had always created a vile kind of competition between you and the rest of your cousins, who resented you for inheriting something you never aspired to in the first place.

But power was a vicious thing, wasn’t it?

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: We’re halfway through! -Danny

Words: 1,869

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘this is my trying’ -by Taylor Swift

xx: Worth

Cat watched Riri work with a smile on her face.

"You're making me nervous," Riri told her without looking up.

"Sorry," the mutant chuckled. "It's just crazy, part of me thought for years only Tony was able to do this."

Riri glanced at her. "So you got to know him well?"

"I lived with him... a year?" Cat squinted. "I lived around him, my whole teens. He was like the coolest uncle I could ever hope to get."

Riri chuckled. "They were your family for real? The Avengers?"

"Two years ago I would've told you they were, they tutored me and trained me... but I'm not gonna pretend that what Namor said didn't change the way I view things. Hawkeye said it, their orders were clear, it was their job to train me."

"Must've been hard to realize," the girl stopped what she was doing to look at her. "That you've never had what you thought you had."

"I never said that," Cat grinned. "They cared for me in the end, they were my friends, and that was something. And I did get my own family, brother, father and cousins, uncle and aunt... it's weird, but I like weird."

"When Shuri called you she wasn't convinced that you'd be willing to help, but so far you seem pretty dope."

"Yeah, I've had a complex reputation throughout the years," Cat crossed her arms and leaned against the table. "I couldn't make up my mind about it either."

"But now you have? Make up your mind, I mean..."

Cat patted the girl's shoulder. "As soon as I'm done here I'm going back to New York, and then I hope you clear out your schedule, cause your training will start this summer."

Riri's expression was priceless. "Are you messing with me?"

"Normally I would, but not right now," Cat smirked. "You wanna be an Avenger, kid?"

"Holy shit!" The girl walked away covering his mouth, around them several people threw curious glances.

"Keep working, she's just having a moment," Cat dismissed it with a chuckle.

M.O.U.S.E. spoke to her. "Incoming call: Lucifer."

The mutant's heart squeezed with worry and she walked out of the lab hoping Matt wasn't calling to give her bad news. "Hi, hot shot, what's new?"

There was a short silence at the other end. "You sound... okay."

She chuckled. "Is that bad?"

"I just heard about the queen's death?" He explained. "I wasn't expecting to hear you laughing."

Cat's smile vanished instantly. Her face lost a bit of color. "Right. Yes... she died."

"I thought you'd be upset," he continued, now sounding a little awkward. "I... well, I never forgot what you said about Pietro..."

The woman let out a sad chuckle. "You never forgot, huh?"

"Well, I..." he cleared his throat. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Spider-man got really worried when he heard you'd left. I thought you'd called him."

"I didn't, and he didn't call me either cause he knows it's risky. We don't know who could be listening," Cat frowned. "I'm sorry he got worried, but I'm sure by now he knows I'm okay."

"And what happened there? What's going on?"

"It's a long story, and I'm not sure I'm even allowed to talk about it, but I promise I will tell you what I can once I'm back."

"Really?" He sounded surprised. "Okay. But are you safe?"

Cat thought about it. "I've had worse. I mean, yes I was there when the queen died, and I... I saved her at first," she let out a dry laugh. "They were drowning, and I pulled her out while still conscious... but I looked away just a minute..."

"It wasn't your fault, Cat."

"I know that."

"No one blames you, either," he added, his voice had an edge as if he were willing to go to Wakanda and make sure no one did.

"No," Cat frowned, but she was also smiling a little. "It's bizarre, I thought I'd feel guilty 'cause I was there and I drove the bad guys in thinking I'd be able to stop them... but I couldn't."

"And you're okay with that?" He insisted, this time a bit more skeptical.

"I spent a month in a universe where there is only one hero, and he's always exhausted," she began explaining, "when I came back, I realized how stupid it was to think I would be able to control this world with my bare hands. I can't do it alone. I told you I would try again, and I'm doing it, with my friends' help if they think they can do it."

Matt let out a sigh of relief. "Took you long enough."

"'Bout eight years, give or take. Most of my youth... such a waste..."

"I wouldn't call it a waste," he said, those were the years in which they'd met.

Cat grinned. "Okay, not entirely a waste. Better?"

"It will be once you're back," Matthew answered. "The longer you continue to be in plain sight the easier will be for Kraven and Russo to track you. Don't give them the chance."

"Cat?" Shuri came out of the lab. "Your suit is ready."

"I'll give them a chance, Matthew," she said. "To run."

Cat's chrome-colored suit was an impressive sight when the jaguar cloak had been added. She spotted Shuri standing next to the ship and opened her arms to show off her looks. Shuri smiled. "As striking as the owner. Finally, a suit that matches your personality."

"I'm forever in debt with the person that made it for me," she winked. "I'm all yours, your highness."

Her purple feline eyes had to be covered now most of the time since the reflection of her suit was a bit too much for her, but instead of her goggles, she had a visor that M.O.U.S.E. projected for her and caused the reflection to bounce out without bothering her. He'd been updated with Riri's help.

Cat nudged Shuri's arm, the girl was wearing a Black Panther suit, she'd gone through the transformation. "How does it feel to be super strong?"

"It gives you a new perspective of life... and death."

Cat looked at her knowingly. "I've seen that look before. I know is useless to tell you this now, but I feel like you should know... killing didn't make things better. Having someone there to hold your hand after everything's over... that's what heals you."

Shuri's jaw clenched. "I know this is not the perfect answer."

"But it's the one you want." The girl didn't respond. Cat sighed heavily. "Shuri, I got everything I wanted, and I lost all that was important as a consequence. Look around you," she stared at the beautiful scenery with sad eyes. "Remember your home when you face Namor, and what might happen to it if you kill him."

"You think I'm strong enough to take his life?" She asked bitterly. "Most think I'll die trying."

"I'm certain you can. I told you, I had that look in my eyes once... and I will have it again, soon," Cat said quietly. "But I'll try my best to fight against it, I think you should do the same."

The fight ended relatively fast, or at least that's how it'd looked at first. Shuri left on the ship that had captured Namor, and Cat prayed to any deity that could be listening, to keep Shuri from ruining her life.

The ship was going nowhere, so Cat and M'Baku approached the captain to see what was going on. "The sonic emitter has been destroyed."

Whales started to surround them, M'Baku mumbled with worry. "That can't be good."

Something exploded under them and the ship tilted sideways. Cat used Wanda's powers to lift herself from the ship's surface and then did her best to push it back to its original position. A spear flew past her.

Some Wakandans had slipped off the ship during the explosion and were at their enemy's mercy, Cat could only think to use Wanda's power to lift a small wave and scatter the warriors away from each other. Then she began to teleport from one place to another to place them back on top of the ship.

"Princess we need that backup now!" Cat announced.

"Okoye!" Was all Shuri replied.

The midnight angels arrived at the scene. Riri shot up into the sky carrying a Dora in her arms, one that Cat hadn't spotted while saving the others. More Talokans started to climb into their ship.

Cat reached under her cloak, pulled a baton, then pressed something in it and it stretched into a fine spear, its two ends made of laser blades that she could reshape however she wanted. "Knife fight it is," she sighed.

Copycat rushed into battle stabbing every blue-skinned person she ran into. The thought of hurting them was less upsetting now that she knew they could not be killed easily. Eventually, the crowd opened and she spotted Attuma, she copied Mr. Parker's power and shot a web at his weapon pulling it back, then landed in front of him.

Cat pointed one end of her spear under his chin. "Hi again," she said in Mayan.

The man scowled at her. "Jaguar."

"Stop calling me that or I'll think you guys respect me," she joked.

Attuma aimed at her chest but Cat stopped his spear with her own, then she kicked him back and aimed for his middle, but he dodged her. He was fast as much as he was strong, but Cat had decided not to use any power now that they were face to face except for the ones she'd developed naturally.

He tried to stab her from above, but Cat split her spear in half and crossed both parts over her head to stop the weapon short. Her knees buckled, but she pushed him back. And she kept pushing until both of her feet were planted firmly on the ground.

Cat uncrossed the blades and his spear grazed her neck, she jumped back in alarm, the feeling bringing unwanted memories. Attuma elbowed the side of her head, nothing protected her from the blow.

The mutant got thrown to the ground, and her batons fell out of reach. Attuma lifted his spear, and she looked up at him, eyes unwavering as he got ready to kill her. Then Namor's voice rose from above them.

"Talokanile'ex!" He called, Shuri was standing by his side. They had come to an agreement. "Let us return home. Our fight here is done."

Attuma and every warrior from his tribe knelt at his orders. Cat felt a throbbing pain on her side, she wasn't sure at which point someone had tried to stab her, but they'd almost succeeded. They hadn't actually injured her thanks to her suit, but the impact of the blade felt like she would find an ugly bruise there later on the day.

Attuma got up and, to her surprise, put his weapon away and offered to help her stand. Cat seized his hand with no hesitation. Once on her feet, she watched as he picked up her batons and put them back together, reassembling her spear. He handed it back.

"Live up to its worth," he pointed at her cape, "or I'll take it back along with your life."

Cat stared at him, overwhelming grief engulfed her. She didn't know if she was worthy to carry the jaguar's mantle, but it was then that she realized excellence was not what she wanted at all, and it had taken half of her friends and family to discover the harsh truth.

At least now she'd made up her mind.

Next Chapter—>

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