#my hairs gonna SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND

[callsign-marlie]

Hey Pretty Girl

The Five Times Jake calls you his favorite pet name + one bonus little baby taste of angst :3

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader genre: FLUFF warnings: unedited, light teasing and innuendos, mention of pregnancy and child birth, no y/n used a/n this is total fluff and it was just what I needed. very short in comparison to my normal things but i almost wanna do all of the young pilots with this prompt and a different quote each time, it was so wholesome ;^;

Please feel free to like, comment and reblog. Much appreciated and much love - marlie x

---

The First

“Hey pretty girl, slide me a bud, will ya?”

Blonde hair and blue eyes, a coy smile. Tanned skin pinched with a glaze sunned pink at the top of his cheeks and a clean pressed khaki uniform. The cap popped off of the glass with a fizz before you slid the bottle to him. “$5.50 for the boy in brown.”

“The boy,” he scoffed. Thick fingers gripped around the neck of the brew to coat his nails in condensation. The amber liquid swirled the enclosure of glass as he placed the rim to his lips. His eyes never left yours. “Not a boy. A man, darlin’. More of a man than any one you’ve had before tonight, I can assure you that.”

“And who said I wanted you, fly boy?” Your elbows were on the bar, leaning over the mahogany top. Even with the challenge of cleavage at your disposal, he never broke away from your gaze.

“Your eyes say enough. See ya soon, gorgeous.” He scribbled his name on the merchant copy of his receipt. A wink, the shine of a grin, and away he turned. 

You grabbed at the soggy slip of paper to find chicken scratch handwriting with ‘Jake’ and a phone number written on the bottom. Jake, huh?

The Second

“Hey pretty girl, that spot’s perfect. Just like me, right?”

He had bought you a bundle of sunflowers on a whim. They were gorgeous and tall, standing bright against the navy of your entry way in the antique crystal vase your mom had given you. Jake had cleaned up nicely in a crisp button down and slacks for your date to the local brewery down on the coast and had bought the bouquet for you on the ride home from a local farm stand. “Now you can think of me every time you leave the house and smile to start your day.”

You rolled your eyes, an endeared grin on your face. “You’re an ass, Seresin.”

“Maybe, but I’m your ass and that makes me the best ass around,” he chimed, jokingly hitting the back of his rump. “And this ass ain’t leavin’ for quite some time doll.”

“Then tell me, baby, what happens if the flowers die? How would I ever remember you then?” You lovingly wrap your arms around the top of his shoulders, careening up on your tiptoes to touch his nose with yours. 

His fingertips brushed a strand of hair that roguishly fell into your eyes. His eyes were the color of sea grass and his gaze was softly focused on your lips.  “Guess we’re just gonna have to go on more dates so I can get you more, right?”

The Third

“Hey pretty girl, may I have this dance?”

The reception was over and your feet were on fire, but you were finally home in your little shared apartment on base. Your hand, now coveted by a new diamond wedding band, sparkled under the high hat lights as Jake helped you up from the couch to the smooth sounds of John Mayer echoing in the background. Your white gown sweeped against the floor as he pulled you to his chest. 

Jake, your perfectly perfect Jake, dropped a soft kiss to your forehead, to the tip of your nose, to your lips. “Mrs. Seresin,” he whispered at each pass of his lips. You let your bare feet stand atop his, still encased in his military issued loafers and let his strong legs take you on a slow rock in your living room. It was the first time today that the two of you had been just alone: where the room wasn’t vibrating with clinking glasses or loud party music. 

Jake swayed with you gently even as the song changed, his hands dropped to your waist to rest on the crest of your bejeweled bum. You raised an eyebrow at your cheeky husband, who simply rolled his eyes and gave a boyish grin. “Just let me enjoy this baby.”

The Fourth

“Hey pretty girl, lemme help you, hold on.”

Jake’s large hands snuck underneath your rounded belly, lifting just enough weight to let your spine relax under the constant pressure of pregnancy. The dishes you were washing were suddenly forgotten and slipped from your fingers. A blissful sigh. “Ohhh, that’s the stuff, don’t stop.”

“Damn, all of my talent in bed and I’ve never heard you sound like THAT before,” he huffed, slowly letting your belly back down. “All I had to do was lift up peanut here and you’re putty, huh?” 

You pouted at the returning strain and snatched his hands back to place. You tilted your head to the side to leave a kiss and a teasing nip on his bicep. His fingers tickled over your skin in amusement.

“Uh-uh, don’t even think about it, Seresin. You stay right there.”

The Fifth

“Hey pretty girl, I’m your daddy.”

Tears were welling up in his eyes while he held the small pink bundle in his arms. She was so sleepy after making her grand entrance, kicking and yelling the entire birth. “Oh my god, I’m your daddy!”

“She looks just like you.” You were laying in your bed, completely spent, but glowing after all of your hard work pushing your new little love into the world. “You’re gonna be a great daddy, Jake.”

“And you’re gonna be a great mommy, honey girl.” He carefully made his way over to the bed and sat on the side to let your little girl close. Her eyes were closed and soft little breaths were leaving her mouth. Jake leaned over to plant a chaste kiss into your hair, your nose, your lips. He lingered longer than normal, touching his forehead to yours. 

“My pretty girls. All mine, all mine, until the day I die. I’ll never want nothing more than this.” 

Bonus: The Sixth

“Hey pretty girl, I’m alright.”

You launched yourself at your husband, tears streaming down your face. He winced under your arms, but did his best to wrap himself around you through all of the wires tubing he was attached to. Safe. His smooth hands rubbed up and down your back as you sobbed into his shoulder, leaving light taps on his back. “Don’t. You. EVER. Do. That. Again.”

“What, eject? It’s either that or die, and I’m too good to die while I’m still so young and handsome. You don’t want me to leave you a widow so soon, do you?” His megawatt smile showed reassurance, but you weren’t so sure it was real. You knew Jake better than he knew himself. His eyes, blackened from his impact, held something behind them that wasn’t there before: a fear. His façade was cracking at your worry.

“You won’t lose me, pretty girl. I’ll be here. I’m not leaving.”

“Promise me?” Your eyes just wouldn’t stop tearing up. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” His fingers made an ‘x’ over his heart. “And I really, really don’t wanna die. I have my whole life with you to look forward to.”

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick ff #jake seresin #jake seresin ff #hangman top gun #hangman fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #HANGMAN. #god i love this douche so much man

[eddieandbird]

You read the note that was tucked into the lit frame of the vanity. Your reflection in the background beamed back, your nose crinkled and your lips formed a shy smile. Flutters of anxiety and excitement built up in your stomach as you continued to brush rouge upon your round cheeks.

“Knock, knock,” Eddie’s knuckles lightly tapped the door. His cologne begged you to turn around and take in the view. Your heartbeat picked up as you saw Eddie walking to you, his hair in more orderly curls than usual, his dark velvet suit being highlighted by a maroon button-up that exposed his chest tattoos. “Wow… Darling, you look totally gorgeous tonight,”

“I know, I got your little note,” You pointed to the letter. Eddie floated right behind you, both of you taking in every detail of your outfit; a long, glittering, black gown with a dangerously high slit sitting at the top of your right hip. “You don’t think it’s too much, is it? I know it’s a red carpet, but I haven’t worn this many sequins before,” Your giggle was met with a playful scoff from Eddie.

“Sweetheart, you’re with America’s up-and-coming rockstar. You’re gonna learn to shine as bright as I do,” He stood before you, warmly smiling and stroking your cheek. His fingers trailed down and traced along your collarbones. “In fact, I have a little something for you,”

“Babe, what?” You gasped as he positioned you back in front of the mirror. He chuckled as he pulled a small chain of diamonds out of his suit pocket. Your eyes were wide and fixed upon the light refracting off of it. In swift movements, you were surrounded by his arms again as he brought the necklace down to your chest and clasped it from the back. It was enchanting to watch how meticulous he was with it, adjusting it so the largest stone rested beautifully upon your chest. He gently squeezed your shoulders as he kissed your head.

“Saw this in a window display yesterday and I knew it had to be yours,” Pride sparkled through Eddie’s low voice. Your head turned to kiss the hands on your shoulders. “What do you think? Did your man deliver or what?” He raised his hands and smiled widely, waiting for your response.

“I don’t know why you ask, you know you always do,” your eyes rolled.

“I ask to make sure you’re treated like the absolute princess you are. I know my schedule will only grow busier, but I will never stop being your prince charming,”

#saw people reading my rockstar!eddie content so i had to 😘 #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie x reader #eddie pov #eddie notes #rockstar!eddie munson

[pinknightsinmymind]

could you do some ellie x reader smut (top!ellie) of them having their first time?

【 i'm here to take care of you, pt. 1 - ellie williams | NSFW 】

ellie williams x fem!reader | NSFW MDNI

wc: 4.3k

warning: NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT MDNI

content: established relationship, inexperienced!reader, experienced!ellie, top!ellie, bottom!reader, use of pet names(love, baby, babe, etc.), virginity loss, PRAISE lots and lots of praise, body worship, marking (hickies), slight nipple play, this is nsfw but it's also kinda fluffy, fingering (r!receiving), cunnilingus (r!receiving), aftercare!!!, lots of honest discussions about sex with ellie, very vanilla and sweet, backstory as to how you meet, teasing, ellie makes reader use her words

a/n: yes yes yes a thousand times yes!! this is gonna be so cute🥺 since this was based off the idea of your first time as a couple i wanted to make it very soft and loving. in this fic yall aren't just fucking, yall are making love, bc i'm a super mushy and soft person. i think there's nothing more beautiful than soft loving sex, so that's what i wanted to capture here. also! let's pretend the events of tlou2 never happened here :))

The night you met Ellie was nothing short of beautiful. It may have been dark out but the stars were shining like diamonds hung in the sky. Even more beautiful than the stars was the way they reflected in Ellie’s eyes when Dina introduced you to her. Dina had asked you to meet up with her outside the hall where the town dance was going to be so she could introduce you to one of her friends. You could’ve sworn your heart stopped the moment she introduced you to her. Had you ever seen someone so beautiful? You didn’t think you ever had. Something about the way her eyes sparkled, the pieces of bright auburn hair that framed her face despite the fact it was tucked away in a bun. She wore a light blue flannel with a white top and plain jeans, and you were immediately enticed by the tattoo covering her skin.

It was hard to talk to her at first, feeling your tongue falter every time you tried, but you powered through your introduction. You entered the hall with her and Dina before losing them and deciding to get yourself a drink. You had been sitting at the bar for a while, watching everyone dance, including Dina and Jesse. Jackson was very different compared to anywhere else you had lived in your life. People actually enjoyed life and got to live it. It was unfamiliar and somewhat uncomfortable to you because you had never experienced that before, but it offered you something new: the opportunity to do it yourself. Maybe while here you could actually build some kind of life. Your thoughts were interrupted when Ellie approached you again at the bar.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” you replied.

“You look a little lonely,” she commented.

“In a bad way?” you asked teasingly.

“No, of course not. I just mean you’re sitting here all by yourself.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m just not used to these types of things, is all.”

“Me neither,” she said. “I don’t usually come to these things, but I came because Dina begged me to.”

“Same here. This is my first time coming to something like this.”

“You’re new here to Jackson, right?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’ve only been here for five months. I barely met Dina two months ago.”

“Well, welcome to the community,” she said. “I’ve been here about five years now.”

“Fives,” you observed. Ellie smiled a bit at the small synchronicity you pointed out.

“Do you… wanna dance?” Ellie asked. Your heart felt like it was going to explode inside your body, but you nodded at her question.

“I’d love to.”

A bright smile erupted on your face when Ellie extended her hand out to you, and without hesitation you took it into yours. You stared at her back as she led you out onto the dance floor, and you felt like your heart was pumping a mile a minute. Once she led you to a decent spot she liked, she turned back to face you, putting two hands on your waist within seconds. The song playing was slow but lovely, and you stared into her face like you were viewing a piece of artwork. You wondered if this was how people felt when they went to those old art museums they had before the outbreak. Did their hearts swell like this? Did they stare at those paintings like every second mattered? You felt yourself drawn to her, like you were being pulled into her in a way you never had with anyone before. She led the way as she swayed with you side to side, your hands resting on her shoulders. She looked into your eyes, and you felt like you could see the same thoughts as yours in her head. The way the lights hung up all throughout the hall shone in her eyes just like stars made your breath catch in your throat.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” she apologized, “but I hope I’m doing alright.”

“You’re doing great, don’t worry,” you reassured her. And you weren’t lying. She was doing more than a good job at leading you and keeping up with the rhythm.

“Thanks,” she laughed. “I’m really nervous.”

“Me too. This is quite the way to meet someone,” you said.

“Definitely,” she agreed, “but I have a feeling I’m gonna know you for a long time.”

From that day forward you got to know Ellie more and more, starting off as friends, but it wasn’t long until your friendship developed into something more. She looked so shy when she brought you a personally-made bouquet of flowers and asked you to be her girlfriend. How could you say no to her when she looked so sweet and adorable when she asked you? It didn’t take you long to throw your arms around her in a tight hug and give her your yes.

Ellie was a sweetheart. That was the only way you could describe her. She may have been tough and intimidating on the outside, but on the inside she was so soft. When the two of you started off as friends she let you in on all her interests: space, art, dinosaurs, music, her guitar. You fell in love with every part of her that you got to know, cherishing every moment spent with her. You had never known such sweetness, especially since you had spent most of your life going from town to town since you lived in a world with flesh-eating monsters. For once in your life you were experiencing stability, and you were growing to love it more and more.

There was just one problem—well, you wouldn’t call it a problem, maybe just a bump in the road—which was the fact that nearly three months into your relationship with Ellie and the two of you hadn’t had sex yet. It’s not that either of you didn’t want to, but you just weren’t ready yet. You weren’t innocent, and you knew what sex was and all about it from old books you read growing up, but that didn’t mean you were ready to do it. Sometimes while kissing things would get hot and heavy, and although you did want her, you would simply ask her to slow down and tell her you weren’t ready. She, of course, would kiss your forehead and tell you it was okay.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked her once after turning down sex. You were sitting on her bed after playing a video game when the two of you started kissing and it seemed like the possibility of having sex was getting nearer. You asked her to stop, and she did as soon as you asked, asking you what else you'd like to do instead. She had just come back from grabbing her controllers for you two to play again when you dropped the question on her.

“What?” she asked. She looked at you as if you had just asked her the most outrageous and absurd question.

“You know, because I don’t want to have sex yet?”

“No, of course not, baby. Why would I be mad at you for that?” She sat down beside you and looked deeply into your eyes as she talked to you.

“I don’t know. I mean, I can tell you want to have sex, and I’m just worried I’m disappointing you.”

“Not at all.” She placed a kiss on your forehead then layered kiss after kiss on your cheeks. You let out a small chuckle at the feeling, and the amount of butterflies and warmth and light filling you up was overwhelming. “We’ll have sex whenever you’re ready, babe. It doesn’t matter to me when that is, and I’ll never be mad at you for not wanting to have sex at any point in our relationship.”

“Thank you,” you said to her. You gave her a peck on the lips. “I’ve never been able to take anything slow. I’ve always been on the run, trying to find someplace safe to stay. Being able to actually live and not just survive here in Jackson is new to me.”

“I understand. Take all the time you need.” She gave you another kiss, and after a few more rounds of her game she asked if you’d like to go to sleep. After you said yes she turned off her lamp and pulled you close to her body to go to sleep for the night. It was nice to have her hold you, to feel how warm she was against you. You loved the feeling of the non-sexual intimacy you got to experience with her because it meant the world to you. You felt safe for the first time in your life while in her arms, and the way that feeling of security washed over you was enough for tears to prick your eyes.

It had been three months now, and you were starting to open up to the idea more and more. You were going to spend the night at Ellie’s again, and you were planning on bringing up the conversation to her before the end of the night. You felt the anxiety bubbling up inside you throughout the day, but it wasn’t exactly the bad kind as you were also very excited.

You got to Ellie’s place a little earlier than usual, but she welcomed you in with a huge hug nonetheless. You dropped your bag of clothes for the night by her bed as you flopped down onto the mattress.

“You got the movie?” you asked.

“Hell, yes, I do,” Ellie answered. She held up the copy of Labyrinth she had borrowed from Joel. “I know how much my girl wanted to see this. We gotta thank Joel for telling us about this movie.” Your heart skipped a beat at the phrase. My girl. You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d praise you and say such sweet things like that during sex. You pushed the thought away as you got up from her bed and grabbed your bag.

“I’m gonna change into my pajamas real quick,” you explained.

“Okay, go ahead, babe,” she said. You walked into her bathroom and changed into the longsleeve and the pair of shorts you brought before returning to Ellie’s room. As you got back in bed you watched as she popped the movie in the DVD player by her TV before settling in bed beside you. She adjusted the blankets around your bodies as she opened up her arms for you to nestle into her side. You happily obliged as you felt her arm resting over your shoulder while the movie started. She was so warm and comforting. In that moment you were sure without a doubt that you loved her, more sure of anything than you’d ever been in your life.

You didn’t stir much while watching the movie, and instead you were just content to cuddle with her during it. You really enjoyed the film, but what you liked most of all was experiencing it with her. Once the movie was over Ellie took care of everything and put the movie back up in its case. She did leave her TV on in case the two of you decided to play video games or something of the like.

“Okay, what are you in the mood to do now?” she asked, just like she always did. She told you she liked to do things at your pace, and that whatever you wanted goes. You battled yourself internally. Should you bring it up now? Should you wait? You glanced at Ellie’s clock. It was 10:15. You might as well.

“Um, can I talk to you about something?” you asked. Ellie figured it was pretty serious, so she shut her TV off before coming back to sit in bed next to you. The only thing illuminating her room now was her bedside lamp. She was a little nervous because she had no idea what kind of conversation to anticipate, but she didn’t show the worry on her face. Instead, she just held your hands in hers.

“What is it, babe?”

You felt your cheeks growing hot at the thought of what you were about to ask her, but you wanted to so badly. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be alright, you told yourself. You were in good hands with Ellie, and you had never felt safer with anyone before. You took a deep breath.

“I wanted to tell you that I think I’m ready to have sex with you.” Ellie hadn’t expected that, but she was still going to make sure to comfort you. You did seem nervous to even bring it up in the first place, and she knew sex was something you wanted to take your time with.

“Okay,” she said. “But are you one-hundred percent sure? I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I’m very sure,” you said. “I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m only nervous because of the fact I’ve never had sex before.”

“Hey, that’s okay. I’ve only done it once before, so I’m not exactly an expert,” she joked.

“Someone as gorgeous as you?” you asked. She got shy at that, looking away from your eyes.

“Stop, you’re trying to fluster me,” she said. “Back to the subject at hand. I just want you to know that at any point if you want to stop, don’t be afraid to tell me. Or if you want me to do something else, tell me, okay? It’s all about you.” You felt her rubbing her thumb against the skin of your hand, the motion comforting your anxieties. It kept you grounded.

“I can do that,” you replied. She smiled at you, one of her hands coming up to caress your cheek.

“I love you so much,” she said. And with the way she looked at you, you believed it and felt it deep within you.

“I love you too.” You loved to see Ellie’s smile, the way her face lit up, how her cheeks blushed and colored the skin around her freckles. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

“Me?” she asked. “Have you seen yourself?”

You didn’t know what to say, or how to respond to the compliment, so instead you said, “Kiss me.” You felt Ellie’s other hand come up to cup your face as she pulled you into a kiss. It was sweet and soft just like her lips, but within time you felt the kiss start to intensify. Her tongue swiped at your lips, then against your own, before you eventually let her in and felt her tongue exploring your mouth. She was intense and beautiful and loving and she was all yours. Her hands wandered from your face down to your shirt as she grabbed the hem to pull it off. The two of you pulled away from the kiss so she could pull your shirt over your head and to pull off her gray hoodie. You noticed she had on a sports bra paired with her boxers at the same time she noticed you weren’t wearing a bra at all, a sigh absentmindedly left her lips.

“No bra, baby?” she asked teasingly, her hands ghosting over your breasts.

“Like what you see?” you asked. Ellie smiled, and instead of replying with words, her lips were back on yours in an instant. She hadn’t expected you wouldn’t be wearing a bra, but she wasn’t going to complain. She loved seeing you like this, and especially since it was the first time she felt there was a certain type of sacredness to it. Her hands gently fondled your breasts as she kissed you, slowly leaning forward and laying you down onto her mattress. Once you were settled she started kissing you from your neck down to your breasts.

“So beautiful,” she whispered against your skin. The praise made you feel shy, but as soon as you felt her kissing your breasts that feeling disappeared. All you could think about was her mouth on your tits, the feeling as she bit down and left small hickies behind. After a few more kisses she took one of your nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. A small whine left your mouth at the feeling, and Ellie was glad she was making you feel good already. After she was done with one she moved onto the next breast, squeezing the other while she had one in her mouth. Once she was done she kissed from between your breasts down to your stomach, muttering quiet praises against each inch of your skin until she reached the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” she asked. You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for her. “No, baby, I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” you answered. She smiled as she began to pull them off your body while you lifted up your hips a bit to help her. She kept your panties on as she retreated to between your thighs and began to kiss them. Her kisses were soft and loving as she looked up at you.

“What do you want, love?” she asked.

“You,” you answered.

“I know that, but what do you want me to do?”

You covered your face in embarrassment. “I want you to eat me out.”

Ellie noticed this and removed herself from between your legs and came back to your face. She grabbed ahold of your hands and began kissing them. “Don’t be embarrassed, okay? I’m here to take care of you. Everything’s going to be alright.” She placed a few kisses on your cheeks.

“Okay,” you responded. “I trust you.” She gave you a quick kiss on the lips before returning to her place between your thighs. As if she hadn’t interrupted herself, she resumed kissing up your thighs, savoring the warmth of your skin and the way you looked from her angle. There really was nothing more beautiful than it. She began kissing closer and closer to your center with soft, peppering lips. She placed a kiss on your vagina through your panties, and you could feel yourself getting even wetter than you already were. The anticipation was killing you, and you wondered how much longer she was going to tease you. Ellie placed another kiss, and that was when you felt her lick you through your panties. Because of the cloth you couldn’t feel her completely, but you could still feel how wet and hot her tongue was. She licked up your folds again, and again, pressing little kisses in between. Small whimpers were starting to leave your lips. She was teasing you and you needed her more than anything.

“What’s the matter?” she asked between kisses. She stared up at you from between your thighs. The look of love and lust in her eyes was making you feel weak.

“I need you,” you said hastily. “Please, take my panties off.” As soon as the words left your mouth she did as you asked, and within seconds her mouth returned to your pussy. She repeated the small licks she had done through your panties, but this time you could feel everything. The actual feeling was overwhelming, a moan leaving your lips almost immediately. Ellie was making her way through your folds, relishing in the fact you were soaking wet. She wanted every part of you, especially your taste. Your moans encouraged her as she started to suck on your clit, the new sensation enveloping your body in a way you had never felt before. Sure, you had masturbated before, but this was different—way, way different. Of course it was when you had the girl you loved more than anything between your thighs. She continued sucking on your clit, drawing more and more moans out of you. It felt so good; there were no words for it. Ellie moved her tongue in a way that had you seeing stars, your hands moving by themselves to grab onto her hair. That seemed to spur her on as she continued to eat you out like she was starving. You could hear the sounds of her sucking and kissing you, and the small groans she let out every once in a while that felt good against your sex.

You could feel yourself getting closer with every stroke of her tongue, and Ellie could tell. You were gripping onto her hair in a way that let her know how good you were feeling. She unwrapped one of her hands from around your thigh, gazing in awe as one of her fingers slid inside you with no resistance. You were so wet, and she curled her finger as she moved it in and out of you slowly. The feeling of her sucking on your clit and fingering you at the same time was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself coming undone with each stroke of her fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, Ellie’s name escaping your lips in the process. She was making you feel so good, all other thoughts escaping your mind. You felt her add another finger inside you, and the moans leaving your mouth now were absolutely dirty.

“That’s it, baby. Do you feel good?” Ellie asked. She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear you say it.

“Yes, yes, yes. It feels so good.” You couldn’t control yourself or the things you were saying. All you knew is that you loved what Ellie was doing and the way it made you feel.

“I can feel how close you are,” Ellie said as her fingers continued to pump in and out of you. “I feel you tightening around my fingers.” She started to hit a spot deep in your walls that had you letting out even louder moans, and with each thrust of her fingers she could feel you getting wetter. It made her happy to make you feel so good.

“You’re doing so good, baby, just for me. You’re my good girl, right?”

“Yes!” you answered after another thrust from her fingers.

“Tell me how good you feel.”

“I feel so good, Ellie. God, it feels so good.” You could feel your orgasm coming with the way it was taking over your body, making you feel on edge and like your body was hot. Every praise from Ellie’s lips somehow made everything feel even better, and it was giving you the push you needed to reach your orgasm sooner.

“How close are you, love?”

“I’m so close,” you answered. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me right now, baby.” Ellie latched her lips back around your clit as she continued to finger you, pumping her fingers in and out of you so perfectly. And then you felt it: the tightening in your body, the way it rose up inside, bringing you closer and closer before it hit you. When you hit your climax it washed over you completely, taking over every single one of your senses like electricity as it hit its peak before slowly coming down. Ellie continued to finger you through your orgasm, making sure you felt good each step of the way. Once you stopped moaning and started catching your breath she pulled them out and stopped what she was doing. She placed a kiss on your thighs before moving to give you a kiss on the lips.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m more than okay.” You were both smiling like lovestruck idiots.

“Good. Listen, I’m gonna go get a towel to clean you up, but do you want anything else?”

“No, I’m okay,” you answered.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She got up from her bed and walked to her bathroom where you heard the water run for a little bit before she returned. She grabbed a t-shirt from a pile of clothes by her bed and slipped it on. You sat up in bed a little as she sat before you and cleaned between your legs. You couldn’t help but feel emotional at how loved it made you feel. Once she was done she put the towel on her bedside table and grabbed her hoodie. “Here, put this on,” she instructed. You did as she asked, and she looked absolutely elated to see you in her clothes.

“Where are my panties?” you asked.

“Oh,” she said. “Let me find them.” She looked around before finding them on the floor, handing them to you to slip on. You did so quickly and once you were done she was on you in no time and pulling you in for cuddles. She was placing kisses all over your face and held you tightly against her body. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I’m feeling good,” you said. “I think I’m just tired now.”

“That happens,” she said. “You feel alright, though? Was there anything I did that you didn't like?”

“No. I felt more than good the entire time. You’re really sweet and caring.”

“Like I always say, anything for my girl.” She gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

“Do you want me to do anything for you?” you asked.

“Oh, no, not tonight,” she said. “I get pleasure just from getting you off, and tonight was about you. We can try some other time, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed. “You make me feel so safe.” Maybe it’s because you were still basking in the feelings that come after an orgasm, or maybe it’s because you felt wildly closer to Ellie than before, but you just felt the need to tell her that.

“I’m glad, baby. All I wanna do is take care of you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. How about we call it a night and pass out together, huh?” Ellie asked.

“I’d like that.”

“Alright, let’s go to sleep, babe.” She reached over and switched her lamp off then grabbed her blanket and pulled it up over both your bodies. She wanted to make sure you were settled in her arms before falling asleep. There was nothing compared to the feeling of safety you got while sleeping in Ellie’s arms, and she felt there was nothing better than keeping you safe in them.

#tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #the last of us ellie #tlou ellie #ellie tlou #tlou x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n

[ryejifics]

Dance practice pt 2

Type: fluffy!

Ryujin x idol reader

"Y/n?.." She eagerly waited for your response. Bouncing her knee up and down. She tried staying still, but she couldn't stop shaking. She was so worried you'd reject her.

"Well.. oh, how could I ever say no. You're too cute! You went through all this trouble for me. Yes, Ryujin, I'd love to start something with you."

Her smile grew from ear to ear. Her cute whisker dimples showing. Her eyes shining as bright as the stars.

"REALLY!? I mean oh uhm really? That'd be great." She was blushing from embarrassment. "Oh Ryujin." You giggled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. You split the check, and off you two went. She walked you to your dorm where you were greeted by your members. "Oooo y/n! What are you doing with Ryujin??" They teased and introduced themselves to her. After a few minutes, she gave you a hug and walked back to her dorm.

All night, you smiled from ear to ear. All you could look at were the beautiful flowers she gave you and the cute pictures you took together on your phone. As you were in a deep train of thought you heard a "bing!". One new message.

Ryujin: I had a great time tonight. Thank you for agreeing to this. I won't let you down! Goodnight, pretty girl ❤️.

You squealed out of excitement and happiness. Ryujin made you so happy. You hoped you made her happy. There's no one you'd rather be in a talking stage with.

Months passed, and today was the day you were gonna ask her to be yours. You wanted everything to be perfect for her. You planned to take her to the restaurant she confessed to you in and ask her there. You ran to the store to buy flowers and a gift. You picked out the perfect ones and a hoodie she's been eyeing since you started talking to her. You checked out and went back to the dorm. Your members helped you pick out an outfit and do your makeup. You did your hair and sprayed her favorite perfume. As you gave yourself a pep talk in the mirror you got a text. "Bing!". One new message.

Ryujin: I can't wait to see you tonight, beautiful.

You smiled and responded to her quickly.

As the night came, it was finally time. She picked you up at your dorm, and off you went. You walked down the streets of Seoul and looked at all the stars. She held your hand in hers, smiling as she skipped all the way there. You took the cutest pictures of her. Her whisker dimples shown throughout them.

You walked in and sat down. Ordering for the two of you. After you ate the time was perfect. "Ryujin? Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything y/n. What's up?" You nervously pull out the flowers and gift. "We've been talking for a few months now, everyday with you feels like heaven. If this is a dream I never want to wake up. I've never been this happy with someone. With you? I feel like a princess. I want to spend everyday with you so... I was wondering if you maybe.. wanted to be my girlfriend?" You looked at her nervously. It felt like forever before she finally gave you her response.

"Uhm, duh! I was actually going to ask you tonight, too." She pulled out a necklace. It was a heart locket with diamonds on the outside. On the inside was a picture of you two from your first date. "Oh Ryujin, it's beautiful! I'd love to be your girlfriend!" She helped you put it on. "And I'd love to be your girlfriend."

You two went on many more adventures together. You knew she was your forever. Ryujin was your favorite person. She made you feel at home. Safe and sound. Dance practice really was great, after all. It brought you her.

#itzy fic #itzy imagines #itzy #itzy x reader #itzy midzy #itzy fluff #itzy scenarios #ryujin shin #itzy ryujin #ryujin x reader #ryujin imagines #shin ryujin #ryujin #ryujin fluff #ryujin itzy #itzy reactions

[honey-milk-depresso]

The Boy I Love (Ove Bell x Reader)

Ove Bell is my OC, this is for @call-me-aesthetic especially 💕 Hope you enjoy! ^^

TW: One cuss word. I think- (very mild cussing)

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love is a jokester.

“Ove…”

“What? I’m scared, s/o. Aren’t you gonna be my knight and shining armour and protect me?~” he playfully reacted as he placed his hand on his hand to look exasperated.

The two of you were in a haunted house as a Halloween date, and you knew jolly well that Ove wasn’t scared of it one bit. No, he just wanted to act scared to cling to your arm… actually no, just cling onto you.

“Are you done pretending?” You raised a brow, monotonously asking your boyfriend. He gasped, touching his chest offendedly. “When your love is in distress, fear, anguish and helpless without you? Oh, how cruel can you be, my snuggle bug?” Ove sighed as he sounded hurt, but that wide grin on his face says otherwise.

“Snuggle bug? Cringe.”

“S/oooooo,” he wrapped his arms firmer around your arm, chin resting on your head. “Protect meeeeeeee~”

“Oh my sevens…” you smiled at him, as he smiled at you back.

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love has bad taste in movies.

“What are we watching?” You asked your boyfriend while looking baffled at the television screen.

You would’ve expected horror, comedy or thriller from this man but…

“It’s an alien invasion movie.”

“Why is the alien invasion movie all stop motion and have un-sync lip sync?”

“It’s from the 1970s.”

You groaned. Oh my god. I mean sevens.

Your boyfriend decided to pick a movie so outdated and cheesy, the plot is almost so cliche with the main characters obviously using the power of friendship to save the day, characters that have the most nonsensical thinking and scripts.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty and I’m not gonna roast you for watching something so awful,” you laughed at the movie for how awful it is, that is somehow became a good film?

“I know. And I know you love the show, too.”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love learns something new for me

“Ove?”

“Ah shit… this’s embarrassin’…” You faced Ove who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, reading a poem out loud with a bunch of papers that had messily written verses scribbled with lead.

“I suck at words and I… I heard poetry was necessary for Valentine’s Day..? That and I had other things prepared but writing is a pain in the ass…”

You picked up one paper, reading it. “ ‘Your eyes are diamonds, your teeth are pearls, your hair is silk and your skin is glitter’? That is so cheesy~ I didn’t know you’re that type of guy, Ove,” you teased him, catching a rare sight of him blushing a glowing red on his cheeks.

“Well, sorry, I’m trying. It’s my first time writing something like this you know,” he huffed, pouting as he crossed his arms. “And I really do think so…”

You smiled, touched by his words and you kissed him on the cheek. “Well, I feel very loved, and it’s the feelings from you that matters to me.”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love carefully thinks of meaning.

“What the heck…” You entered your room to see green glow-in-the-dark stars messily pasted across your room, with a bright moon and sun lamp illuminating the dark room with a golden glow.

Not that it was bad or anything, but why? You walked over to the drawer at the side of your bed to see a note. More specifically, a note from Ove.

“Did he do this while I was gone?” You asked yourself as you sat down and read the note with the help of your two new lamps.

You’re the stars, the moon and the sun of my world. I did. this so you’d remembered that.

-Ove Bell

PS: I’m getting better at poetry, am I right? Also all this costed me a fortune from Sam’s store so please say you like it I worked hard-

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head as your cheeks bloomed pink. Your boyfriend is such a cheesy little freak.

Sevens, do you love him so much.

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love tries his best to make me happy.

“Hey now…” Ove awkwardly wraps an arm around you as he soothingly hummed.

You know he’s not the best at comforting, and you could feel how stiff he was when he sat down beside you.

He bit his bottom lip, unsure of what to do next. His spider on his shoulder, Todd, tapped on his neck and he showed Todd to your face. “He’s not a scary spider… he wants to see you happy, too..!” Ove smiled, but you hung your head low and only nodded half-heartedly. He frowns, and Todd looked at the boy with a worried body expression of tapping his two front legs together. He placed Todd on his shoulder and scooted closer to you.

“Hey now, look. I know… I don’t know why you’re upset but I think you’re really cool. You’re brave to cry in front of others and… you’re not scared of Todd. Or at least you overcome your fear of Todd. Still I…”

He paused for a moment and pulled you closer to him if that was even possible. “I want you to be happy.” You looked at him, he smiled gently with an almost anxious expression, desperately trying to cover it.

He’s trying his best for you, you thought and you smiled meekly. “I’m sorry for burdening you.” He frowns once more. “Burdening me? I love you why would that burden me, ya sweet bug?” He smirks. “I’d be here for you any day.”

You giggled at his antics, smiling fully as he grins. “Thanks, Ove.”

“No need to thank me.”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love loves to mess with my hair.

Ove took of his beanie and sat crossed-legged on the floor with a bunch of hairpins and clips, flowers he plucked from outside and from Heartslabyul a brush in hand as he smiled to himself.

You sat in front of him with your back facing him, sighing unamused.

“Don’t do anything funny like last time.”

“What? You know I love playing with your hair~” he coos, slowly brushing your hair.

It was soothing, honestly, and he began to clip some pins and put flowers onto your hair. You hummed to yourself, subconsciously humming to what your boyfriend hums to himself. From his fingers, he touched them and pulled delicate shimmering translucent strings like cobwebs and weaved them like a spider.

“And… done!” He took a hand mirror and gave it to you, letting you see the cobwebbed veil he made that complimented the clips and flowers on your hair.

“Wow…” “Wow indeed, s/o. You look pretty.”

You blushed. “I… tha-” “Pretty normal.”

“OVE-” “I’m joking, I’m joking!” He smiles genuinely. “You’re beautiful.”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

The boy I love loves me.

He sat beside you in the open field as the wind blew a gentle, cool breeze. Ove looked at you, eyes softening as he smiled a little wider. He looked back at the sky you were staring so mesmerisingly at, the sunset that shone over the horizon was a sight to behold indeed.

But not as much as you.

He looked down at his lap. “Fuck.”

“Ove, don’t curse!” You chided him. He chuckles to himself. “Sorry but I can’t help myself.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I just realised how stupid I am.”

“I mean you’re a little dumb, but not stupid. Dumb in not having movie taste.”

He gasped offendedly in a playful manner. “My taste is superior!” “Dream on!”

You both laughed. “Nah, but… I’m stupid to realise I never had guts to do something important.”

“Like?” You asked him, raising a brow.

“This.” The next moment he leaned in to your face, your eyes widening. It all felt like slow motion as he leaned closer and closer, finally pressing his lips on yours. He pulled a way a few moments later, smirking at the way your cheeks burned red.

“I love you,” you blinked momentarily, the words he spoke flowed like a waterfall out of his mouth, no hesitation and with full confidence.

His simple words left you overwhelmed, as you felt the corner of your eyes stung with hot tears.

The boy freaked out when a single tear rolled down your cheek, frantically waving his hand.“H-hey, did I said something wro-”

“Not at all,” you told him. “I… I love you, too.”

He stares at you, his gaze on you unwavering as he smiled softly. “Man… you’re really something, s/o…”

🍯☘️💌☘️🍯

Reblogs help! ^^

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #ove bell #ove bell x reader #twst oc x reader #twisted wonderland oc x reader #twst ove #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst oneshot #twst fluff #self insert #oc #oc x reader #okay bye-

[forgodsgoddamnsake]

Belly Dancer - 13

Excuse me, beauties but I'm not in the mood for smuts. So this one is smut free.

Warning though, angst, fluff, mention of anger issues, mention of domestic violence.

Note: we all have mental issues, so talking about it is necessary. No need to be ashamed of your issues.

--

You and Harry got out of the car right in front of the place. It was a plain building, but you imagined what it would look like when you start working on it. You wore a denim skirt, black stockings, black strapless crop-top, sneakers and a black cap over your head. Harry wore casual, he became more comfortable wearing what he actually liked, so he wore a black ripped jeans and floral shirt with a few buttons kept unbuttoned.

“Y/N!” You heard Sam’s voice squeal, pulling you into his arms tightly and spinning you around.

“Oh, god, Sam!” You laughed before he placed you down again.

It’d been a long time since you actually met him in person. Sam was a great guy, handsome, and muscular with silver hair and couple of piercings in his nose, tongue and ears. He was just a little shorter than Harry, but still definitely taller than you. Sam’s eyes were aqua blue, such a loss that he was gay.

Harry was jealous, but the fact that Sam was gay eased this feeling a little.

“It’s been so long since I last seen you, you’re getting more beautiful.” Sam gave you a wide smile, holding your hands in his.

“I know!” You laughed, grabbing him into another hug, “Your hair looks amazing, last time I saw you it was blue.” You brushed his hair a little after pulling away from the hug.

“And your hair grew longer, must be an advantage in bed.” He winked at you and you laughed at his comment.

Harry coughed, catching you and Sam’s attention. Sam’s eyes widened when he looked at Harry, letting go of your hands, getting closer to Harry.

“Oh my! Is this the guy that had you wrapped around his little finger?” Sam asked, eyeing Harry from head to toe. “You and I are friends from this moment on.” Sam directed his smile to Harry, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Oh! Hi, Sam.” Harry was startled by the hug, but he was polite enough to not push him away.

“We’re gonna have a lot to talk about after we finish our little tour. I have many embarrassing stories to tell about y/n when we first met.” Sam said, pulling away from Harry.

“Sounds great.” Harry smiled back at Sam.

“C’mon let’s go.” Sam encouraged, walking towards the place. You and Harry walked hand in hand and entered the place, Sam leading the way.

“I know it doesn’t look great now and you have so many things to do so this place lightens up, but I think it’s a good catch.” Sam told, pointing at the large space where the main center of the club should be. You and Harry eyed the place.

“It’s three-story, there’s the stage, much bigger than the one’s at the club you work at.”

The stage was actually bigger and wider, not too high but high enough so everyone could watch whoever on the stage without having to raise their heads up all the way.

“See this spacious shit is where the dance floor should be, so close to the stage so you can shine bright like a diamond.” Sam sang the last part, you giggled, leaving Harry’s hand to walk freely.

“Here, you can have the bar.” Sam walked to show you the place of the bar before walking you to where the bathrooms should be.

“The bathrooms need a little more work I know, but believe me, sweetness, they’re so huge you can have another dance floor there.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, the ladies’ and men’s bathrooms were huge. Sam walked you and Harry towards the backstage.

“There are like five rooms backstage for all of your dancers, there’s a sixth one, it’s down the hall. There are two bathrooms for the staff also.” Sam said, opening the doors for all five rooms, showing you the space of the rooms.

“What’s different about the sixth?” You asked, walking behind Sam while Harry was walking behind you.

Sam smirked as he turned around to look at you behind him is a room door, “It’s bigger than my whole apartment,” With that, he opened the door for the last room.

The room was huge, there was a private bathroom in the room, a minibar, a space where you could have a dressing room and another space for an office.

“Wow!” You stepped in the room, imagining yourself in there.

“I know!” Sam squealed.

“What about the two other floors?” Harry asked more like a business man.

“Your word is my command! Follow me.” Sam smiled widely, walking you out the room and to an elevator. You three got into the elevator and it stopped shortly when you reached the second floor, you got out.

“As you told me, y/n/n, this is where VIP Gold should take place. Private bathrooms, private bar, you name it!.”

It was an empty huge space, there was A LOT of work to be done. Sam got you back in the elevator and it stopped again in the third and last floor.

“VIP Platinum, lady and gentleman.”

The floor was bigger than the second, but still, the place was nothing to be wowed about the way it was.

When you finished your tour, you got down to the first floor, Sam didn’t stop talking for a second.

“You have a private garage, the place is really a catch, y/n/n.”

You crossed your arms, walking in the place, “How much did the landlord ask for, Sam?”

“Well, this is the problem.” Sam looked nervous, but was stopped as there was a fourth figure entering the place. A middle-aged man walked in.

“Hello, this is Isaac McChain, the landlord. You must be Ms. Y/L/N.” His voice was hoarse and his hand was expanded to shake yours.

“Yes, thank you for your time, Mr. McChain. We were taking a tour in the place.” You shook his hand, but he wouldn’t let your hand go. The man gave you a smirk, and you knew that he was undressing you in his head.

“Harry Styles, Ms. Y/L/N’s boyfriend.” Harry pulled out his hand to the man, glaring at him. His hand was on your waist, pulling you close into him.

Sam was standing a little away, mumbling to himself, “Clash of the titans.”

Isaac had to let go of your hand and shake Harry’s, putting on the most fake smile you’d ever seen. They pulled their hands away just a second after, maybe because Harry almost crushed the man’s hand.

“I hope you liked the place.” Isaac said, looking at you.

“Well, not so much. It’s huge, I’ll give you that, but the work to be done here is beyond imagination. How much exactly do you price this place?” You pulled on your business woman attitude. That was one of Sam’s most favorite scenes, seeing you act tough. Isaac chuckled a little, he was trying to act tough as well, but you wouldn’t fall for it. He gave you the price with a smirk on his face.

“Uh-huh, well that’s too much for a place that requires the same amount to fix. The bathrooms are in a terrible condition, the stage could fall down if a feather stepped on it and don’t get me started with the second and third floors” You went on and on with all the bad things you caught during your tour.

“But you can easily afford all the work, Ms.Y/L/N. An extraordinary dancer like you clearly can appreciate the whereabouts of the building.”

“An extraordinary dancer like me, Mr. McChain, can clearly find another good place just like yours for half the price.”

“So, you suggest that I cut half the price?”

“I’m not saying that, but we can reach an arrangement we both agree on. I’ve made my research; three-story buildings prices are way lower than the price you put for your building. Approximately by fifty grands, I can use these fifty grands to fix the place, don’t you think?”

Harry was amazed by the way you spoke in a professional tone, standing your ground.

“You’re quite a business woman, Ms. Y/L/N.” Isaac said.

You smiled, expanding your hand to shake his. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. McChain.”

You looked over to Sam who wished he had popcorn, “Sam, get the contracts ready with Mr. McChain.”

--

“God, have you seen her? She had him back off by more than fifty grands!” Sam enthusiastically yelled, cheering Harry with his glass of wine.

“That was a total success, y/n.” Harry smiled at you.

You three were having drinks at the bar Sam talked about, you were sitting at a table, celebrating signing the contract for your new club.

“Success? Dude, she outdone herself.” Sam was so happy for you. You noticed how you chose your friends, all of them were happy for you whenever you had something great happening in your life.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Sam. You really did a very great job.” You patted his shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You know I’ve got your back, Y/N/N.”

“How did you guys meet?” Harry asked, his hand on your thigh, drinking from his glass.

“Now he won’t shut up.” You giggled just as Sam’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Okay let me tell you! I went to this dance class downtown, a friend told me that they give belly dancing classes and I went and guess who was my teacher?”

“Teacher?” You arched a brow at Sam.

Without even giving the slightest attention to you, Sam continued directing his words to Harry, “She was very sweet and friendly. Had to have a friend like her in my collection.”

Harry chuckled and looked at you, “I didn’t know you gave dancing classes.”

“I still do, why do you think I leave at the same time three days a week?” You sipped from your glass of martini.

“Harry, honey, I practically forced her to work her ass off so we could take another step forward. She always wanted to sit on her ass and do nothing.” Sam laughed as you gave him the finger.

“I admit it, you made me work for months with no days off you little shit.” You shrugged.

“But you didn’t like seeing guys belly dancing, now I know you actually teach them?” Harry asked, enjoying catching you in the act.

“I’m hurt.” Sam had a hand on his chest as if he was actually hurt.

“Shut up, Sam! You already know how I feel about guys belly dancing.”

“Well, yeah, but it still hurts.” He smirked at you.

“I’ll have to go to the bathroom before I hit you with something.” You rolled your eyes, standing up and walking towards the bathrooms.

“Tell me about you, green eyes.” Sam asked Harry.

“What would you like to know about me?”

“Y/n didn’t talk much about you, since we worked together most of our talks were business. How did you meet?”

“I, ugh, I saw her dance at the club, messed with her a little and the next thing I know we’re dating.”

“When she told me that she met someone, it was kinda weird. Y/N was used to guys and girls hitting on her, but she preferred being a lone wolf.”

“Believe me, I know how much she gets hit on. I may need to make her wear a shirt with my face on it.” They both laughed until the laughter went down.

“I’ll give you a secret if you promise to keep it.” Sam said in a serious tone and Harry nodded. “I don’t know if you noticed, y/n has many friends. Mostly me, Jessica and Noah are the ones that deeply worry about her, she doesn’t have any family to lean on. Y/N only has her friends, that’s why she tries her best to keep us and never let us go, she treats us like family. She did something for Jessica that perhaps not many people will do.”

“Yeah, I know, Noah told me.” Harry nodded as Sam continued.

“And now you’re looking at the guy who paid his tuition thanks to y/n. She gave me this job and paid me generously when she knew that I was facing some serious trouble paying off the tuition. So, what I want to say is,” Sam’s face got serious like a father’s face, meeting his girl’s boyfriend, “If you play her, God forgive me for what I’ll do.”

--

Not that your friends didn’t like Harry, but they were so worried about you they couldn’t let you get hurt anymore, especially as they knew about your mental status. You couldn’t afford having your heart broken again.

Jessica saw most of it, she’d spend days trying to calm you down from a mental breakdown. While Sam would watch your every move to make sure that you were protected, or didn’t kill anyone.

You weren’t the best person. But you knew how to keep your friends.

You were an amazing friend to say the least, you listened to them, helped them, stood by their side, and most importantly, you fought for them. You fought physically for your friends whenever there would be an issue with another person. Sam was bullied some day at a bar when he accidentally ran into some of his high school bullies, they tried pulling him by the pants calling him the F word. You broke the bottle of beer you had and threatened the guy bullying Sam with it. Violence was not something you chose every day, but you had to choose it to protect yourself and friends against violent people.

--

You, Harry, Jess, Noah, Sam and Sam’s boyfriend Rian decided to take a trip and go for a hike, stay in a cabin and have fun. You rented a place to stay for two nights in a nice cabin that could fit all of you. You asked Harry if Michael could come and have some fun as well and he was fond of the idea, so you called Michael asking if he could join. Michael was happy to know that he was included, you thought that the best option to keep everything going smoothly is to include Michael, so he’d be sure that his friend didn’t replace him.

Harry was driving you, his hand on your thigh as usual. The drive was calm and silent except from the background music, but Harry wanted to break the silence, “Your friends are a handful.”

You giggled, “Why’s that? They’re fun.”

“They are, but they worry so much about you, Sam threatened me.”

“I knew it!” You exclaimed. “Don’t mind them, baby, they caught a few bad qualities from me.”

“So you threaten people a lot?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Mean people.”

“Can I ask you a question, but don’t get offended, please.”

“Sure?”

“You always told me that you were a violent person, but I don’t see that. Why do you always have to remind me about that?”

You sighed, “Defense mechanism.”

“But violence shouldn’t be an option.”

“If you were raised like me, you wouldn’t see that.”

“Then tell me.”

“I never was a violent person, but I grew up in a violent home. My father used to hit us most of the time, and he wasn’t alcoholic or drug addict. It was who he was, that’s way worse, there’s nothing to blame the violence on. And some day, I hit my sister so bad, I put all of the violence I faced on her. Do you know what my father told me when he knew? He said that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I swore that I never lay a finger on any person unless they start it. My sister forgave me, and I never did something like that again.”

“You don’t sound as a violent person, you’re hurt and that’s understandable.”

“Weird that you don’t sound as a violent person though you work as an arms dealer.”

“I grew up with my mother and sister, my father left us because my mother couldn’t accept what he was doing. She wanted to keep us safe, but here I am, keeping my father’s legacy.”

“Your mother raised you good, Harry.”

He smiled at your words, reminding himself that he was raised by a loving mother that taught him how to be a gentleman.

--

You all arrived at the same time at the cabin, it was big and had enough rooms for all of you. You and Harry got out of the car as everyone else did. You carried your bags to your rooms and then gathered in the living room, Jessica had packed meals for all of you, she liked trips and got all excited for preparing food for such occasions.

It was the first time for you to meet Rian, Sam’s boyfriend, but he was a nice guy so it didn’t take you too long to be all friendly with him. Everybody was eating their meals, you sat on Harry’s lap on an armchair, eating together while everyone else was sitting everywhere else. Sam pulled his portable speaker and connected his phone to it and turned on the song ‘Good Girls’ by 5sos and stood on his feet and pulled you off of Harry’s lap to make you dance with him.

So just turn around and forget what you saw

C’ause good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught

Sam would hold you and spin you, dance with you and soon everyone followed, dancing and laughing. Sam went towards Harry who sat there watching you dance and brought him to dance with you. Harry’s smile was getting wider when you pulled him in, hands around his neck while his were around your waist. Everyone was dancing with everyone, you and Noah danced together while Harry danced with Sam, but there was a missing person. Michael. You grabbed him by the arm off of the couch and danced together, he smiled and danced happily with you.

Soon enough the song changed, and Harry’s arms were around you once again. You could smell his cologne from a mile away, he’d catch your eyes if there were a hundred man in the same room. His touch was the only touch you knew. And he could never ask for something more from life other than having you in his arms.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Sam excitedly suggested.

“Let’s play it outside?” Noah added and everyone agreed.

It was already getting late so some of the guys helped put on a little fire to get some warmth, you sat on the ground with a cup of hot chocolate in hand.

“You filthy bitch, get off the ground.” Jessica said to you, taking a seat on a wooden rack.

“I love sitting on the ground, shut up.”

Everyone made a circle around the fire, Harry sat beside you, his arm around your shoulder.

“How do we play?” You asked.

“We take turns, I’ll start.” Sam said.

“Someone’s excited.” Jessica smirked at Sam who rolled his eyes at her.

“Noah, truth or dare?” Sam asked.

“Truth.” Noah answered.

“Wuss.” You commented and he gave you a fake disgusted look. Harry was having a beer just like everyone else.

“What’s your guilty pleasure?” Sam asked.

“Umm,” He thought about it for a second. “I still watch spongepop.”

“Ohh.” Everyone chanted and then it was Rian’s turn.

“Michael, truth or dare?” Rian asked Michael.

“Truth.” Michael answered.

“Are we in fifth grade here?” You teased Michael who looked at Harry, “Shut her up or I’ll do.” Michael said to Harry and everyone laughed.

“She can be as mean as she wants, I’m sorry.” Harry defended you, giggling.

“What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told?” Rian got the attention back as he asked Michael.

“That’s easy, I told a girl that I didn’t love her, but I did.” Harry’s face went down as he heard Michael’s answer.

“OH god! Why?” Jessica asked.

“It’s a one question per turn, Jess.” Michael smiled sadly, sipping from his can of beer.

After Harry and Michael fixed things, Jessica and Noah met Michael many times, so they grew closer. That was why it wasn’t so weird for Michael to tag along.

“My turn!” Noah said, raising his arm. “You little bitch!” He pointed at you and you playfully flicked your hair.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

“Flash us!” Jessica chanted, and Harry glared at her.

“I don’t care if you’re her best friend, I’ll kill you.” Harry playfully threatened her and she laughed at it.

“Dance for us for one minute straight, no music.” Noah dared you and you smirked at him.

“I’ll kill you, too.” Harry said to Noah that raised his hands in surrender.

“No, I’ll do it.” You stood up and lifted the hoodie you had on a little to show off your belly. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Here’s our stopwatch. Go!” Sam used his phone’s stopwatch and with his signal you started dancing with your belly, not moving anything but your belly’s muscles. You swayed your waist and made waves with your belly muscles for one minute straight till the time was up. Everyone clapped when you finished and you gave them a little curtsy in the end before taking your seat next to Harry again. He gave you a kiss on the cheek as you sat down.

“Harry!” Jessica yelled and Harry’s eyes widened at her in surprise.

“What?” He yelled back at her.

“Truth or dare?” She asked with a smile.

“Dare.”

“Following your girl’s steps, good boy.” Michael commented.

“I dare you to imitate y/n.” Jessica dared and you laughed as you turned your head to look at Harry’s face who was trying hard not to laugh.

“Fine.” Harry agreed. He let go of you to sit straight, he flicked his long non-existing hair, “I’m prettier than her, Harry, right?” He softened his voice as he imitated you. He wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m a badass good girl, who you gonna leave me for?” and with that all of you laughed hard.

“I don’t say that!” You laughed, trying to defend yourself.

He brought you in closer and kissed your temple, “You do every time we fight.”

You went on with your turns until Michael asked you, “Truth or dare, y/n?”

“Truth.” You answered.

“What’s your deepest darkest secret?”

You bit your lip and flicked your hair, “Um,” You sighed, “My family disowned me.”

--

You were in your bedroom, laying on the bed. You excused yourself after answering Michael’s question and not long after, Harry had followed you, entering your room. You were naked except from your panties and the blanket covering your bare status.

“Baby, are you okay?” Harry sat down next to you, brought your head to his chest as you cried.

“Shh, everything’s going to be okay.” He calmed you, rubbing your hair, pulling you closer into his chest as you let it all out.

You cried everything. Everything that made you reach the point you were at.

Harry grabbed your head to look into your teary eyes, “I’m with you, okay?” You nodded.

And as you took your time in his arms, everything actually became okay.

“They didn’t approve of me becoming a belly dancer or leaving home, so they disowned me long time ago.” You said softly, eyes feeling heavy.

“Doesn’t matter. You are a successful, independent, beautiful woman. You don’t need them if they bring you down, they should have supported you. It’s not your fault, Rapunzel.” He rubbed your head as he held you.

“I love you.” You muttered as you fell asleep on his chest.

His eyes widened and looked at you only to see you asleep in his arms, he sighed.

“Unfortunately, I love you, too.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

--

SO?

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry x reader #smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry #couples #love #couple #ily #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry x y/n

[archiveoftara]

London Boy

Part 2

I found myself under a pile of bills. Utility bills, water bills, rent, things that needed to be paid but I don't even have a single penny to feed myself .

This small precious dream of mine is costing my life but I can't back out right now.

Six months ago I ran away from my toxic family, to make a living in London, to own a jewelry company but it didn't go as planned.

I banged my head on the table in frustration. What am I gonna do?

After a moment of contemplating my life, I begin to clean up the mess. Slowly picking up scattered papers when my eyes fell on an advert.

Lockwood and Co

The prestigious psychical agency requires a junior field operative and an assistant researcher. Duties will include on-site analysis of reported hauntings and the containment of same. The successful applicant will be SENSITIVE to supernatural phenomena, well-dressed, preferably female and not above fifteen years in age.

Unsuccessful applicants will include time-wasters, fraudsters and persons with criminal records. Apply in writing, together with a photograph, to 35 Portland Row, London W1.

I carefully folded the paper and rushed to my room.

33..34..ah 35. This must be place.

I check the advert again just to make sure I'm at the right place.

I fix my hair and clear my throat one more time before ringing the bell.

"Um hi-"

"Are you Arif's new girl?"

"....who's Arif?"

"Runs the corner store, usually sends someone over with donuts as you don't have any, you must be here for the interview."

I nod awkwardly. Not the best start I see

"Name?"

"Y/n y/l/n. Are you Mr. Lockwood?"

"Me? No." It seem like he is offended. "The last girl just went down but from the look of her, she won't take long."

I step inside the wide hallway, filled with artefacts, books and a chipped plant pot around the corner. This is where they keep their rapiers I guess.

"You win George. That was the last one."

"Then who's this?" The boy named George pointed at me as if I'm some alien. (and I took offense to that)

A boy with very bright, dark eyes and nice lopsided grin said "Hello, I'm Anthony Lockwood." I shook his hand and introduced myself.

"What's your talent?" Lockwood asked.

I gave a small smile "I don't have one."

For a minute I thought the time stopped. I tried to read their faces. I'm sure they're gonna kick me out.

"Well that's fine, we're looking for a researcher anyway and it doesn't need much talent, does it George?" He looked at the boy, sitting at the corner sofa.

He wiped his glasses on his t-shirt "I don't mind."

"Do you have any past experience?"

"Not really." I blushed. "But I am a fast learner, I will work hard. I really need this job."

"George will train you so don't worry." He clasped.

"This means..I got the job?"

"Yes. Welcome to Lockwood and Co"

My eyes shined like a diamond. "I'm not going to disappoint you sir, I desperately needed this job. I'll do anything, thank you so so much." I thanked them like my life depended on it and it kinda did. Lockwood and George exchanged a look (they were talking in some code word I can feel it.) It doesn't matter. I won't be here for too long.

It's been a few weeks since I've been working as a assistant researcher. We also have a new member, her name is Lucy Carlyle. She's really cool, we get along well. Lucy stays with them, they offered me accommodation, too but I refused, I still have a dream to chase.

The work is actually interesting but George makes it a bit difficult for me, he's a perfectionist. I don't blame him. I just try my best to live up to the standards. 

It's the beginning of November, the nights are chilly lately. I've just finished some papers regarding the latest case.

"We should head back it's getting late." George looks at his watch.

"Hmm?" People already left the library, it was just me and him now.

I quickly stood up but felt dizzy. I felt an arm around my waist, I felt a pair of warm brown eyes on me. His mole is cute..has he always been this cute?

"Y/n you alright?" George holds my arm.

I clear my throat "yes. perfectly fine." I quickly gathered my books and walk as fast as I could. The moment I step out of the building I was welcomed by the chilly wind hitting my face. I stood for a moment, my back against the wall. 

I feel so weird.

"Y/n, It's best we see a doctor." He frowned.

"I'm fine." 

"You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, Let's see that." George scoffed.

"Why are you so mean George Karim?" I winced.

"You're being crazy. You clearly need help." 

"George, I can manage." 

"At least let me walk you home." He insisted.

"Nope." With that I make my way home little did I know what was waiting for me.

Maybe I should've been more polite. All he wanted was to help me but I'm a big girl I can manage. It's just a little fever. I slowly made my way to the neighborhood when I felt something strange. I feel nauseas, like something rotten is near me. I felt a heaviness on my chest, something was pulling me away. Soon I felt the cold hard ground, I tried to call for help but nothing came out of my mouth that's when I heard a sound of metal drawn.

"Are you alright?" He keenly looked at me.

"What happened?" I panted. 

"You were ghostlocked. Please just let me walk you home we can argue later." He pulled me with him. 

I think my dream is gonna end before it even starts.

Hello my dear readers, first chapter is done and dusted. Excuse my crappy writing. Hope you like the chapter. Do let me know your thoughts in the comment section. I love you!!! 

Word count: 968

#fandom #lockwood and co #george cubbins #george karim x reader #george karim #35 portland row #reader x character #fanfic

[guns-n-jovi]

Never Say Goodbye

Jon Bon Jovi x Fem!Reader

For: @risingtripletaurus

Request: hey hannah! it’s 2am here, so obviously i’m thinking about jon… and i wanna ask for a fic where the reader and jon are best friends, and jon tells the reader he’s moving from jersey to la to really get his band going. and the reader is really upset, and jon thinks she’s just not supporting him, but really they’re both just sad that he’s leaving :/ then! they get on the same page and they end up confessing lovely dovey feelings! i’d really like the line “this hair’s only gonna get longer, isn’t it?” if that’s okay! hope you like it!

Note: I feel like I once again strayed from the prompt! I always do that- I never mean to, but it somehow happens! It's one of those annoying things about my writing I seem to have no control over. But, I hope you like it! It was fun to write!

Warnings: Seperation, crying, sadness and angst in general. (It is, in my opinion, very sad, so please keep that in mind as you read it.)

Word count: 2,445

Throughout the majority of my childhood, my neighbor, Jon Bongiovi, had been my best friend. When I met him, he was a smiling, laughing child with bright blue eyes and curly, brown hair. Annoying, at times, and mischievous, he’d been my partner in crime since I was a very small girl, with two, stubby pigtails and a snaggle-toothed smile. 

It was difficult to select just one favorite childhood memory with Jon, but I guess my favorite times with him were the golden, fall afternoons that I would lie on my back under a willow tree while he played his guitar. Singing in a dove-like, small voice, he held his guitar that was too big for his little hands against him, and let his fingertips slip off of and in between the strings. I watched with fascination as delicate, flaky notes escaped the strings. Jon would smile whenever he knew he played well- a small that riveted cheeky dimples into his freckled face. Then, I would let my eyes wander from him and around at the soft orange, sugary autumn nature. I would release a sigh of happiness from my lips, and I do so now, just remembering the distant times. 

It was clear that music was the most important thing in Jon’s life, even from an early age. Whether he was playing his favorite rock records on his old, worn-out record player, or singing quietly as he played his guitar, I knew Jon had a heart for music. His deep passion for it became his most defining interest. I was fascinated by Jon’s musical inclination. I loved for him to play guitar for me, or sing- (even if it was something simple, like Ring Around The Rosie, which he would sing shortly before taking me down into the dewy grass with loud giggling. Those memories were also cherished by me- the ones of playing childish games and hearing Jon laugh his high-pitched, lurching laugh.)

All these were treasured memories from our childhood. Now, we were both young adults. I was twenty, and he was twenty-one. I had changed very much, evolving into a demure, poised young lady, with long waves of hair and brightened eyes. However, as much as I had changed physically, Jon had changed even more so. He was no longer the brown-haired, freckle-faced child with bright blue eyes that he had been we were children. His hair had lessened to a dirty blonde, with brunette streaks. It was teased and flowed in voluminous waves down his broad, muscular shoulders. His round face had sharpened into a squared one with a perfectly straight jawline and a rounded, slightly dimpled chin. He was soft-spoken, but still smiling and playful, laughing all the time and wearing shine in his diamond-blue eyes. But he still wasn’t the cheeky little boy he’d been now for so many years. He was a young man, and he was beautiful.  

I don’t know what made me realize I had romantic feelings for Jon, but I was suddenly unable to think of anything but his rogue looks. I was mesmerized by him in a way I’d never been before. Unfortunately, every girl in New Jersey was, as well. I felt I had no chance of winning Jon’s heart, when I had so much competition. But no other girl knew Jon the way I did- no other human at all did. He was my best friend. And now, he was more than that to me. He was a love interest. 

At least, I considered him to be. I had never actually told Jon I had such strong romantic feelings for him, but I had a strange feeling that I didn’t need to. It was something understood between us- I truly felt, if I were to tell him, that he would have already known. We had a strange unseen, unheard communication between the two of us in that way. 

I was satisfied by that for a while, but I finally decided I needed to tell Jon my feelings for him verbally and outright. Maybe if I did, I hoped, it would spark something mutual between the two of us that was more than just the close friendship we’d had all these years. 

One Friday night, Jon called me. He was out in town, but called my house. When I answered it, he said something that made my heart skip a beat. 

“Y/N?” he said, his voice either excited or nervous. “We need to talk. Meet me at the tree, first thing in the morning?”

I promised to do so. The willow tree was what we referred to as “our secret hideout”, where we could go behind the leafy vines and have privacy to talk to each other. We’d abandoned that name, however, and just referred to it simply as “the tree”, because its previous name did seem a bit childish now. 

I knew what Jon was going to tell me. I knew, with a bold certainty, he was going to confess his love for me. Then, I would tell him of my love for him, and we would begin a new, romantic relationship that, as immature children, we would have gagged at the thought of. As I went to bed that night, I memorized a quick speech that included everything I needed to say to Jon, as well as a short tribute to our childhood friendship as a prologue. Taking a deep breath, I tried to close my eyes and sleep, in the cool darkness of my bedroom. More sure of Jon’s feelings for me than anything, I smiled and fell asleep. 

“Hey,” I said, softly, entering the vine curtains of the willow tree. 

Jon was standing there, with his back turned to me. He was wearing a zipped-up, black leather jacket, jeans, and black cowboy boots. He’d never looked more attractive. My heart skipped a beat when I saw him. 

He smiled, but it was noticeably shallow. “Hi, Y/N,” he greeted me. 

Smiling shyly, I walked regally over to him. We didn’t sit in the grass and giggle as we had when we were small children. We now stood poised and mature before each other as young, bright adults. 

Jon didn’t say anything. Unnerved by the silence, I cleared my throat and said, “It sure is a nice morning! It’s cool, but not too cool- kind of like all those fall evenings we sat here and you played guitar for me.”

Something about that made Jon pale. He swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he managed. “Sure is.”

His feet tapped nervously in the carpet of the grass. Finally, he began, in a clear voice, “I need to tell you something, Hannah.”

I tried to stop a grin twitching in my face. Taking a silent breath in, I said, “I’m all ears.”

Jon tried to smile. His eyes lingered on me, and he said, “Well, Y/N…you and I have been friends a really long time. We’ve been on all kinds of adventures, and gotten into all sorts of trouble.”

I chuckled. “How could I forget?”

Jon continued, seriously, “Well…you know, I’ve just been thinkin’ recently…y’know how I got that band together of guys from around here?”

I nodded. 

“Well, we’ve all been talking, and we all agree on one thing,” he said. “That…..well, Y/N, there just isn’t that much in New Jersey for me anymore! Not now that I know I want to be a musician. For a musician, this place is a dead end. There’s no place we could get a contract here!”

He grimaced at himself. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner- I know I should have. But I just kept putting it off. Guess I was too nervous or somethin’.”

Jon ran his hand through his blonde hair. Taking a nervous breath, he continued, “But…..I’m moving to Los Angeles to pursue a music career.”

I stared at Jon in disbelief. Showing no emotion, I only blinked at first. Finally, I began, in shock, “What?”

I must have looked more upset than I felt, at first. Jon’s face softened with sympathy and he rested his large hands firmly on my shoulders. 

“Y/N,” he tenderly began. “It’s what I have to do. You know I can’t have a music career if I stay here! There’s nothing here for a musician like me. I need to be where I can really thrive. You want that for me, don’t you?”

I did, and he knew that. I wanted Jon to be somewhere he could prosper, but I did not want that place to be so far away from me. When I thought of the extreme distance between New Jersey and California, it was enough to bring me from my initial shock and fill my eyes with stinging tears. 

“Jon,” I finally forced. 

I knew there were tears in my eyes, so I sniffed them back and cheerfully said, “Jon, that’s wonderful! You’re- you’ll do so good. You’ll be so famous one day, I know it.”

I laughed, but swallowed hard. There was a rock-hard lump in my throat. 

My cheer did not spread to Jon. He still had that sympathetic look in his eyes. Smiling gently, he opened his muscular arms and brought me in for a hug. 

I melted in his embrace, and let the tears come. Choking quietly, I squeezed my eyes shut into his jacket, and tears poured out of them by the dozens. 

“Y/N,” Jon rubbed my back. “Please, don’t cry. I’ll call you every day! I’ll come back and visit.”

I rubbed my eye hard. “It’s not the same,” I sputtered. 

Letting myself choke a few more times, I released him and said, “Well, it’s your life. You need to go wherever you can thrive, right? Don’t let me or what I think get in the way.” 

I forced a smile, but it was the most meaningless smile I’d ever faked. 

Jon did not look happy himself, either. Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair. 

“That was the first thing I needed to tell you,” he said. “Um…there is something else.” 

Sniffling, I looked up. I could not even find any excitement in knowing he might confess he loved me. Not a thousand romantic confessions of Jon would console me since he was moving so hopelessly far away. 

“Y/N, you’ve been more of a friend to me than anyone else,” Jon said. “You’re such an amazing girl. You’re kind, sweet, and…you’re…well, you’re beautiful.’

Jon cringed at himself, but after a second, carried on. “I’ve been thinkin’ that a lot lately. I’ve been thinking about how beautiful you are. And I realized something just as it was too late.”

Jon smiled gently at me, and gingerly confessed, “I love you, Y/N.”

Even if I had been expecting it, I still found myself asking, “R-really?”

“Really,” Jon nodded. “I care more about you than I’ve ever cared for anyone else. You’re beautiful, you’re sweet, smart…I love you, and I will love you always.”

I looked at him with bitterness in my eyes. “But you’re going away.”

“I know. But I wanted to leave you with something you can hold onto. Something you can put your faith in.”

He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I’ll never find another girl like you, Y/N. And even if I do, I will never forget how much I love you. I’ll love you till the day I die.”

I looked down, letting out another sob. When I looked up, I knew Jon had to know I felt the same way about him. 

“I love you more, Jon,” I said. “I think I always have, but I’m just now realizing that.”

I let myself chuckle. Jon did, as well. He walked over to me, his feet noiseless in the grass. 

He put his arms around me in another hug. Forgetting the pain, I closed my eyes and basked in the hold he had on me, and the smell of his cologne rested in his hair. It was hard to let the pain get to me then. In that moment, we were together, the way it was always meant to be. 

As I was hugging him, Jon’s hand slipped off of my back and made its way to my chin. He lifted my chin to face him, and our eyes were locked into each other’s. I saw tears in his eyes that were shining brilliantly. 

“Y/N,” he said, his voice coated in want. 

I let my eyes flutter to a close as he pressed his lips into mine. He kissed me with such fiery passion that I couldn’t help believing every word he’d said, even if they hadn’t made much sense. By leaving, was Jon saying he valued music over me? 

“I understand,” I lied, with a sniffle. “Really, I do. But you’ll call me everyday, won’t you?”

Jon promised he would, and I added, with a laugh, “And I can say that Jon Bongiovi was my childhood best friend one day when you’re the best singer in the world.”

Jon blushed. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

He looked at me. “Well…I have to leave tomorrow. And I’ll be too busy packing the rest of the day to see you anymore. So…”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

I ran into his arms again. I had been so afraid to run there before, but now, I couldn’t keep away. 

“I can’t say it,” I told him, sputtering. 

I tried to formulate the word- “G-good-b-” I stopped. I couldn’t force it out of my mouth. 

“Goodbye?” Jon stroked my hair. “Don’t say it. Never say goodbye, Hannah. Because goodbye means forever. And someday, we’ll be together again.”

He looked me in the eyes while I helplessly cried. “Promise me you’ll believe that?”

I whimpered. Then, I squeaked, “I promise.”

Jon sighed. He slowly released me until only his hand was clinging to mine. When they slid apart, I watched Jon as he disappeared through the curtained vines of the willow tree after looking around in satisfaction one more time. 

Now, I was alone under our tree. And I knew that as long as I lived in the vicinity where Jon and I had shared our golden childhood, I would come to this tree everyday in vain, and sit alone. I’d fool myself he’d enter in, smiling his rogue grin, and sit beside me while we made detailed plans for our future together. 

That same moment, I sank against the tree’s stump. Already, I was waiting for him to meet me there, as he always did. And I would never fully believe that he would never meet me there again. 

#That's all folks! #Jon Bon Jovi #Bon Jovi #Jon Bon Jovi x reader #fanfiction #writing #80s rock star #80s music #80s bands #Jon my beloved 🧡

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

Publicly, AO3 is down and I should be writing my next chapter for hunting prize but… I’ll do that later.

Instead, gonna randomly generate words then write snippets for them :)

And the word is…… drum roll please 🥁🥁🥁🥁

The sun. An unrelenting force that was cursed when out and cursed when hidden.

A force Vi wasn’t all that used to considering… well, come on.

And a force Caitlyn loved and a force that loved Caitlyn right back. Making her eyes shine like diamonds and her skin tan so impossibly beautifully.

“Vi, you would adore the beach! We can sunbathe and play in the water and eat all the ice cream we want without being judged. Sand texture can be a bit odd if that’s your aversion, but nothing a solid shoe can’t fix! And as much as I think you being pale as a ghost is just wonderful, your freckles are beginning to fade.”

Caitlyn stands in her bathroom, in front of the massive mirror and its warm and bright surrounding lights in a purple bikini top that Vi’s actively forcing herself not to stare at, a pair of dark blue jean shorts and a cardigan in the same colour.

Vi watches Caitlyn tie her hair up from her bed, resting her chin on her arm as Caitlyn delicately brushes her hair before running her hands through it, getting each strand ready for the purple scrunchie around her wrist.

They catch each other’s gazes in the mirror. Caitlyn smiles, but Vi looks away, not wanting to risk folding at the sight of her.

“Cupcake, I swear to you that suntanning is not a thing to me. We come from a loooong line of vampires who burn at the crisp from just one beam of that thing. My parents hardly knew what the sun was, too busy sucking blood and running from Topside’s crazy amounts of garlic.”

“You’re so ridiculous. A little blush doesn’t hurt anyone,” Caitlyn chuckles, twisting and wrapping the hair tie one last time before her ponytail sits perfectly at the top of her head. “I’ve seen you on the sun many-a-time and you turn out just fine. I could always help you apply sunscreen every other minute if that’s what is required to get you outside.”

Obviously Caitlyn wouldn’t mind running a soft cream all over Vi’s naked back, finally allowing herself to memorize every stroke of dark ink that adorns it.

And of course Caitlyn also wouldn’t mind seeing Vi in swimming trunks and a top that would undoubtedly show off the abdomen she spends so much time working on.

Because Caitlyn appreciates her friend and is willing to take care of her every need if she just asked.

“Plus, we are going to be playing volleyball and I need my favourite hitter there with me. Don’t you want to spike a ball right into Jayce’s face?”

Vi can’t help but hum. Pretty intriguing argument if you ask her.

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind that.”

As Caitlyn finishes pulling loose strands out of her updo, allowing them to frame her face before she turns around with impossibly pleasing eyes.

Vi’s strong. She always has been and she always will be.

But Caitlyn… there was just something about her.

She steps forward, crossing the room and standing high above Vi as she doesn’t move, worried her predator can sense fear; still becoming increasingly more queasy as Caitlyn stares, whispering a kind please under her breath, fully armed with the amazing offence of disastrous puppy eyes with a stern insistence hidden in that bright blue.

Vi groans, rolling her eyes as she peels herself off of Caitlyn’s bed, her victor’s growing smile taunting her for her weakness.

#ummmm procrastination is a drug sorry #caitvi fanfiction #caitvi #arcane #vi arcane #vi #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn #violyn #piltover’s finest #piltover's gayest #Vicait #slay writes #I think I might do more of these today just for funsies #these are most likely going to be corny so beware of that #um if you wanna do this too you should the shortage as people screaming and crying into the void

[actual-sleeping-beauty]

Fame and Art and Life and Love

a parallels post starring Dance Fever by Florence + the Machine and Midnights by Taylor Swift

***florence lyrics will be italicized // taylor lyrics will be bolded***

we argue in the kitchen about whether to have children, about the world ending and the scale of my ambition, and how much is art really worth? the very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most. but you need your rotten heart, your dazzling pain like diamond rings, you need to go to war to find material to sing. // all they keep asking me is if i'm gonna be your bride. the only kinda girl they see is a one-night or a wife. // he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain. he wanted a bride, i was making my own name, chasing that fame, he stayed the same. all of me changed like midnight. // fuckin' politics and gender roles and you're not sure and i don't know

i need my golden crown of sorrow, my bloody sword to swing, my empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology // sometimes i feel like everybody is a sexy baby and i'm a monster on the hill. too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city, pierced through the heart but never killed // everybody agrees, everybody agreesssssssssss

but a woman is a changeling, always shifting shape, just when you think you've got it figured out something new begins to take // all of me changed like midnight // you see all the wisest women had to do it this way, cause we were born to be the pawns in every lover's game

and i was never as good as i always thought i was, but i knew how to dress it up, i was never satisfied, it never let me go, just dragged me by my hair and get back on with the show // do you hear my covert narcissism i disguise as altruism like some kind of congressman? // i'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror, it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero.

sometimes i wonder if i should be medicated? if i would feel better just lightly sedated? // i said, "okay, but let's discuss this at the hospital" // when my depression works the graveyard shift all of the people i've ghosted stand there in the room // is it okay? is it you? or have they come to take me away?

i'm always running from something, i push it back but it keeps on coming, and being clever never got me very far // something different bloomed, writing in my room. i play my songs in the parking lot. i'll run away // i called a taxi to take me there // everything you lose is a step you take

something's comin', so out of breath, i just kept spinning and i danced myself to death // the pressure and the panic you push your body through // i should not be left to my own devices they come with vices and prices i end up in crisis // i hosted parties and starved my body

i came for the pleasure but i stayed (yes i stayed) for the pain // he wanted it comfortable, i wanted that pain

i thought that i was here with you, but it was always just an empty room, cause it's always the same // remember lookin' at this room? we loved it cause of the light. now i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time

if they ever let me out, i'm gonna really let it out. i listen to music from 2006 and feel kind of sick. but, oh god, you're gonna get it, you'll be sorry that you messed with me // karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter, karma's gonna track you down, step by step from town to town

and in my darkest fantasies i am the picture of passivity, waiting for you side of stage, suppressing all my private rage // you should find another guiding light, but i shine so bright

i met the devil, you know he gave me a choice, golden heart or a golden voice // it's me, hi, i'm the problem, it's me // it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero // she's laughing up at us from hell

am i your dream girl? you think of me in bed, but you could never hold me, you like me better in your head // baby boy, i think i've been too good of a girl. did all the extra credit then got graded on a curve

watch me shimmer // best believe i'm still bejeweled

i am nobody's moral center // you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talkin' // and the voices that implore, "you should be doing more," to you i can admit that i'm just too soft for all of it

all the things that i ran from i now bring as close to me as i can // this is a collection of music written in the middle of the night, a journey through terrors and sweet dreams. the floors we pace and the demons we face.

and if i run fast enough could i break apart? as empires crumble and cathedrals flatten in my heart // god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be, the tomb won't close, stained-glass windows in my mind

and every song i wrote became an escape rope tied around my neck to pull me up to heaven // these desperate prayers of a cursed man spilling out to you for free

i couldn't help it, yes i let it get in, the helpless optimism of spring. worn out and tired and my heart near retired and the world bent double from weeping. and yet the birds begin to sing // uh oh, i'm falling in love. oh no, i'm falling in love. oh, i'm falling in love. i thought the plane was going down, how'd you turn it right around?

i was always able to write my way out, the song always made sense to me, now i find that when i look down every page is empty // dear reader, burn all the files, desert all your past lives and if you don't recognize yourself that means you did it right

and have i learned restraint? am i quiet enough for you yet? // ladies always rise above, ladies know what people want, someone sweet and kind and fun. the lady's simply had enough.

but if i was free to love you, you wouldn't want me would you? unavailability is the only thing that turns you on // i've blown apart my life for you, bodies hit the floor for you, break me, shake me, devastate me, come here baby // and if i was a child, did it matter if you got to wash your hands? // and the god's honest truth is that the pain was heaven // you're a crisis of my faith, would've, would've, should've, if i'd only played it safe

sometimes you get the girl, sometimes you get the song // but the call, it always comes, the songs like children begging to be born, and oh i guess i got my wish // i guess sometimes we all get just what we wanted // i guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted // on the way home i wrote a poem

if i make it to the mornin' i should'a come with a warnin'. and if i make it to the stage i'll show you what it means to be saved. oh you know i'm still afraid. i'm still crazy and i'm still scared. but if i make it to the stage i'll show you what it means to be spared! // it only feels this raw right now, lost in the labyrinth of my mind // the jokes weren't funny, i took the money, my friends from home don't know what to say. i looked around in a blood-soaked gown and i saw something they can't take away // you should find another guiding light, guiding light, but i shine so bright

and when it came it was stranger than i had ever imagined, no cracking open of heaven, but quiet and still // they said the end is comin', everyone's up to somethin', i find myself runnin' home to your sweet nothings

so tell me where to put my love, do i wait for time to do what it does? i don't know where to put my love // no one wanted to play with me as a little kid, so i've been scheming like a criminal ever since to make them love me and make it seem effortless, this is the first time i've felt the need to confess. and i swear, i'm only cryptic and machiavellian cause i care // i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i'll watch as you're leaving cause you got tired of my scheming for the last time

i don't love you, i just love the bomb. i let it burn, but it just had to be done. and i'm in ruins, but is it what i wanted, all along? // every single thing i touch becomes sick with sadness, cause it's all over now, it's all out to sea

my montage of lost things, my shiny trinkets of grief // i find the artifacts, cried over a hat, cursed the space that i needed. i trace the evidence, make it make some sense why the wound is still bleeding?

#taylor swift #florence + the machine #parallels #midnights #dance fever #yes this has been rattling around in my brain for months just never quite this crystallized #there's also a lot of other parallels (stuff taylor has said on stage is mostly what i'm thinking of) #but i limited this specifically to the albums and the midnights prologue

[bishtheiress-kb]

Coffee

Chapter 1

Words: 500+

Original, do not steal ♥️

A beverage so beautiful, it's like an otherworldly elixir. To some it may be a strong dram from beans, a divine nectar so refreshing, pleasing and soul-healing to others.

Coffee. ☕

A hot drink made from the roasted and ground seeds (coffee beans) of a tropical shrub.

(First person pov)

My favourite thing about mornings like these. Hectic, bustling, lively even; Monday mornings. I had fallen in love with coffee ever since I had it for the first time. And ever since I found out one could make a living out of drinking, sharing and making coffee.... I knew I had found my purpose in life.

(Third person pov)

*Clink*

The shopkeeper's doorbell chimed. And in walked a brunette with flowing long wavy hair tied up in a loose, sleek ponytail. It was misty outside, the air of dawn time was cold and bleak, especially since it was the beginning of a new week, a new day.

Keeping her bags on the chair behind the counter, she proceeds to tighten her ponytail. Stretching and popping her knuckles, she sighs. It's gonna be a long morning. The best part of her day, is coffee. Her mornings started with with a strong one. Soon, it found its way into her routine, and to say the least, it had become a habit, a healthy addiction.

Turning on and scrolling through her phone, she brewed herself a cup of fresh coffee. The aroma of the beverage fills the room as the clock strikes six. It was time for work. The brunette flipped the craftsman's door sign.

Open.

Her ocean eyes scan outside the window panes, looking for possible customers. She has a pair of pretty blue eyes which shine with hope, love and contentment. They're bright, like a diamond ever so refractive, in a cave full of coal, dark and dull.

Blinking as she glances at the clock once again, going back inside to prepare for the day. She has great focus on what she does. Eyes so attentive and hands so skillful. It's like she has been doing this for years, her impressive actions amaze crowds. She must be a professional in her trade, a master dare I say.

*Chime*

In came the first patron of the day and she became busy attending to more as they arrived; sleepy, tired and restless all for one thing. Coffee. Her shop is not that popular, being built in a corner of the town. Nevertheless, more and more people come in. Usually regulars who trust her proficiency so much, they are willing to let her brew the first step of their day.

Laden with artificial flowers, with a vintage, academia vibe, the beautiful shop of hers is homey, comfortable and welcoming.Inside is a counter, tables and a mini library, woven chairs for outdoor seating and a dreamcatcher. Above all, a signboard, with a beautiful font.

It read, Sunrise Brews ✨

Followed by a name, the talented barista and owner of this humble establishment, of course.

Brooke.

#Coffee #Short para #Writing #Start #Beginning #Introduction

[xotomesimpx]

Pranking Bakugo

Okay so pranking this dude is like trying to get those famous white tik tokers to not say a certain word. It is impossible every single prank pretty much got seen through and failed. Until finally you and the others in class 1-A came up with a perfect plan.

Step 1: Get him tired. This was easy enough since he run on energy like a engine and goes to bed like a grumpy old man.

Step 2: Make sure everyone is ready phone times reset. Clocks around the dorms also reset everything had to be just right.

Step 3: The most important step make sure Bakugo's clocks and phone clock and date were all reset. And that the curtains were all closed. So he could not see that it was night time.

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

"This plan is going to work it is crazy it just might work." You said reading through the plan to the others as Midoriya looked nervous. "Y/n he is going to skin us all alive if this prank works." You nodded and set your phone aside. "Hope you got your will ready then."

It took a while to find the right curtains and put them all around the dorms. At first when Iida saw what was going on he genuinely thought you and the rest of the class were re-decorating or something. So he also got new pillows and table decor to match the curtains. "This color does go pretty nicely with everything, good choice class." He said looking at everyones handy work if only he knew plan one of the prank is complete.

Now someone just had to get a hold of bakugo's phone before bed when he was most tired. But he never let anyone touch it. Unless the person wanted to be blasted into next week. So who better else to be left with this task other than Kirishima or Izuku "I am shit bricks right now Y/n I am gonna-!"You slapped him lightly "Izuku get a grip this is your time to shine. I want to see you out there shinning bright like a fucking diamond. Fake it til' ou make it. Just remember your lines."

Nervously Izuku shuffled over towards Bakugo "Hey Bakugo can i call my mom on your phone?" Bakugo looked wide eyed and gave one of his ugly faces. "Go ask your damn friends nerd! And what the hell happened to your phone?!" Deku laughed awkwardly holding up a damaged replica of his phone. "I was training and it slipped out of my pocket so I nee-" Bakugo tossed his phone towards Izuku's face. "Just make it quick." Bakugo grumbled and went off into the kitchen. This was all going just as planned, you watch from a far with a grin.

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

Bakugo went to sleep only to be woken up to Kirishima. "Dude what are you doing still sleeping?" Bakugo sprung up "The fuck you mean shit hair? It is only five A.M..." Checking his phone bakugo looked and confirmed. "See what I tell ya, five A.M on a Monday!" Kirishima shook his head as Bakugo paused for a moment. "Son of a bitch we got a hour to get ready for school! I thought it was Sunday today?" He angrily hissed as he started to get ready. He went down stairs and saw some other classmates getting ready also.

he finally sat down and stared to eat his breakfast with you and the others. "I can't believe shit hair only now just woke me up! I have to fucking rush to get ready now." He jabbed at his cereal as everyone hummed. "Well yeah it is Monday after all." Hakagure shrugged as Bakugo rolled his eyes "It was literally Saturday i remember cause i had a long work study shift that day. You idiots can't be serious!" He scorned as you held up your phone lock-screen. "See, it is six o'clock now and the day is Monday. Everyones phone is on that day including yours."

He gave a sour look as he glanced around the room. "Same here dude." Denki held up his phone showing the day and time. "That work study really must have worked you like a dog." He laughed as Bakugo spat back "Shut up dunce face!" He finished his cereal and went to go to the boys dorm bathrooms and brush his teeth.

"Bakugo why are you in your school uniform already? School is open for another four hours." He quickly shot his gaze towards Iida, who was still in his PJ set. "Four hour?! It is six something right now four eyes." Iida shook his head and pulled back a nearby curtain. "Bakugo it is still night maybe you had a funny drea-" Bakugo tossed his tooth brush back into it's place. "Those bastards tricked me!"

You, the Bakusquad, along with Hakagure and Tokoyami all chuckled amongst one another. The others woken up from all the commotion.

"What is going on...kuro?" Tsu yawned as her and Ochako came downstairs only to be met with yelling and shouting. They looked stunned as they saw Iida holding back a shouting Bakugo. "They pranked Bakugo." Midoriya mumbled nervously as the three watched. Sero was behind them recording and laughing his ass off. "World staaarrr."

"Y/N I"MMA KILL YOU!" You moved closer to him as everyone scrambled recording him "And I will be taking you with me. You just got PRANKED." It did not really end well there since everyone was shouting. Which later followed up with Mr, Aizawa giving you and everyone involved detention including Bakugo.

In detention:

"Why the hell do I gotta be here? I am the victim here, they pranked me!" bakugo pointed at you as Aizawa stared with his cold gaze. "Yeah and a decent yet annoying prank at that. You are here cause you did not even bother checking the curtains." Aizawa sighed as he sat at his desk and you shook your head. "Nope we switched out the sheer curtains for more thicker ones so no light can get through. And we also changed the time on all the clocks and our phones including Bakugo's." Aizawa listened intently and pursed his lips blankly

"They played you and gave you a run for your money this time. And you all gave me the run for my money by being stuck with you all. 20 laps around the halls here now, all of you."

"Yes sir Mr, Aizawa!"

#mha kirishima #mha #mha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #kirishima eijirou #izuku midoriya #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #anime fanfic #manga fanfic

[alystar00]

This will be a list of the things I said on instagram while watching Twilight for the first time in my life. I should warn you that I watched it in Italian, so I will translate the dialogues by myself back to English. I’m sorry for the inaccuracies (actually not that much).

I won’t put the pictures and I won’t probably show the actual scenes. Have fun trying to figure out the scenes. I will put some red comments when needed.

Enjoy

-

I am doing it. (For contest, until I put it on I didn’t decide if I was gonna watch it or not).

The four of them are embarassing. Update: she almost hit Jacob with the car door.

Between the dramatic fan and him like this I am laughing. No, upgrade, he’s creepy.

What does it mean he’s not there, I wanted her to confront him (I cannot really translate what I said here)

What the hell, is he in heat? He keeps looking at her like a maniac.

I didn’t really get it but. “You had black eyes and now they’re auburn.” “Yeah it’s ✨ the lamps ✨”.

In the meanwhile Edward very clever to destroy a car to save Bella- YOU COULD LITERALLY JUST PULL HER AWAY AND NOTHING ELSE, YOU DRAMATIC BITCH. 

The doctor goes directly to PTSD- yeah okay calm down

“How did you get there next to me?” THIS ONE DESTROYED A CAR WITH HIS BARE HANDS AND THAT’S WHAT YOU ASK HIM?

Ah alright she asked him now.

Edward looks like a bad boy made in a bad way, I already hate him

“To the ball. The ball where you have to dance. Yeah, it’s not for me”. Mood Bella, mood. (Spare my google translator english please)

“What are you going for in Jacksonville?” “How do you know?” “Can’t you answer my question?” “You don’t answer any of mine”. BELLA HAS A PAIR OF BRAIN CELLS THAT DO WORK. I don’t really like Edward, he’s that mysterious and ugh-

Summary of the first half hour of Twilight:

Bella: *exists* Edward: 👀

If his problem was only his change of humor dear, he’s stalking you

“And if I wasn’t the hero? And if I was instead the villain?” Dramatic bitch

She didn’t actually invite him, right? PLEASE BELLA YOU HAVE HIGHER STANDARDS

✨ You are in my reserve, Bella ✨

Jacob and his friends with long hair makes me laugh

NO BUT BOTH JACOB AND EDWARD ARE TRYING TO AVOID UNCOMFORTABLE QUESTIONS AND BELLA KEEPS ASKING BECAUSE SHE’S SO CURIOUS

The guy confused by two that appear out of nowhere is the only one that look realistic and not stupid

JaMeS dO nOt pLaY wItH tHe fOoD

Anyway I’m asking myself if she’s connecting the dots with the “The Cullens disappear when there is the sun”

They should have set it in the UK.

Bella that sneaks off in a library to avoid shopping is literally me

GO BELLA, PUNCH THEM

First good thing about Edward: he pulled out of the way there guys. THEN HE TRIED TO KILL BELLA WITH HIS SHITTY DRIVING, BUT LET’S IGNORE IT

Not him “You cannot know how disgusting their thoughts were”. But do you hear yours?

“You should give me an answer” “Yeah… no…”

“I FEEL PROTECTIVE OF YOU” BUT HOW CREEPY WAS HIM WHEN HE SAID THAT? CREEPY BITCH

“I tell you that I can read minds and you think there is something wrong with you?” Sorry Bella but this time he’s right.

“Was he killed?” “Yeah… by an animal” LIAAAAAAAAAR

She connected the dots, good girl

Creepy and spinning shot

“Say what I am” A SANITARY NAPKIIIIIIIIIN (in Italian it sounds better)

“You will not hurt me”. She’s so chill with a vampire, okay girl

“They looks like diamonds” SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOOOND

Throwing a tantrum, dramatic bitch

“I am a murderer” [...] “I trust you”. Bella please

“IT’S LIKE YOU ARE MY FAVOURITE QUALITY OF HEROIN” I’M CRYING

He’s moody, not a joke. First he says he love her. Then that she should hate him. And he jumps everywhere like a grasshopper. And he’s dramatic. My god how much I don’t stand you

I’m sorry for this commentary of Twilight but it’s like reading a cringe book and I must comment every part of it. But I must go fast because everything happens fast. Also, I am waiting for Supermassive Black Hole. (I basically watched it for this song alone, Muse is my favourite band)

He’s a special child, he's the only one that can read minds.

“CAN YOU BEHAVE LIKE A HUMAN? I HAVE NEIGHBORS”. I want a book with a human and a vampire like that

Bella that is afraid she won’t be liked by Edward’s family and him like “They’re vampires. That’s your fear?”

Okay evidently they share a brain cell and you know who’s keeping it by what they say

 “What did you expect? Coffins? Dark caves? A moat?” “Not the moat” “... Not the moat.”

Anyway, Bella already has their complexion

Jasper looks like Kylo Ren

Everyone happy beside the blond one, crying

Eris is nice (Yeah it took me the whole film to understand her name was Alice, don’t mind me. Also, in italian "Alice" is pronounced different and I am stupid)

The game of graduating, oh my God. I agree with Bella, being 17 years forever sucks.

I remembered Spiderman different

“Do you trust me?” “In theory” Mood

Well the hing with the piano was cute. Robert plays it good

“I like to watch you while you sleepy” YOU GIVE ME ANXIETY BRO

But like, the simple fact that he goes into hero room - in the last two months - and nothing else- bro no

Now they’re kissing hard

“Isn’t he too old for you?” “...No?” ;););)

HE LOADED THE RIFLE TELLING BELLA TO LET IN EDWARD, I’M CRYING

The baseball match is going to start, I was waiting for this moment

There is really Supermassive Black Hole here, I’m crying

The drama of all this match

What are you? A boyband?

The gaze with which Bella watched Edward- she avenged every look he gave her during the film

He panicking so much oh my god

He did a really evil move, let’s hope it works

She’s so furious oh my god (the blond). Eris tho>>>

“BELLA YOU ARE MY WHOLE LIFE NOW” bro no

Effectively being three they could think they would have found her mother but okay

I’m intrigued, I want to see what happens now

“I do not regret the decisions that  have brought me this far [...] They also brought me to Edward” If you’re happy sis

He’s creepy but he intrigues me

The action scenes make me laugh, they look like looney tunes ones sometimes please

It’s all so dramatic. No but it’s them that are cringe, dad vampire and Eris are sensible. Also the bad guys.

They invented that she fell out of the window and she was like “typical of me”. How badly you are that such a thing is plausible?

Oh my god she fell in love badly. 

Normal life is too mainstream, what can I say

No but they paid him 20 dollars to say her that they keep an eye on her? Alright?

THEY PAID HIM TO MAKE HIM A MESSENGER, IT’S ALREADY FUNNY LIKE THIS

They just took a picture. In this version vampires are photogenic? Mhmmm

Well it’s clever to take her up and dance with her keeping her like this. Especially if she can’t dance and if she put on weight. Well, it’s a clever idea, do it more often.

Anyway “I won’t be the one who will take away you like” Drrrrrrrrama

My DrEaM iS tO aLwAyS bE WiTh yOu

I don’t believe he will bite her

In fact he did not bite her, tactic kiss on the neck

Well, they do a good couple. Shared braincell etc etc

Hi Victoria

I FINISHED IT

-

I have also commented the whole New Moon film but I don't know if I will put it here. Let's see

#twilight #Twilight film #bella swan #Bella #Edward cullen #Edward #Jacob

[lillaxtrigger]

Street Smarts: Chapter 17

The normal urban atmosphere that wafts throughout the big apple is swelled by the wondrous scents of exotic foods and spices that cut through the grimy city air like a finely sharpened blade; the blend of aroma’s proving a welcoming first impression for anyone visiting China town. The foreign market held in the midst of this small portion of this city is as busy and bustling as ever, with countless people from within and outside New York touring through the many booths and stands that make its marketplace; the swarm of customers drawn to these fascinating food and ingredients the sellers of these booths advertise with pride.

Somewhere nearby within the residential area of this humble foreign settlement, a door from one of its many homes exudes a bright red aura; one of which envelopes its finely carved wood from top to bottom. Few of those passing by heed some mind when out from this door do Wedsle, Frida, and Thursotte emerge out from the other side, exiting out from the inside of the safe house behind them; neighbors perplexed of how these three can exit go casually out from a home that was not there’s and approach as the psychic three stroll away. Yet before any of them could come close to investigate the inside, the door the crew came out from suddenly slams shut; leaving a few of them too spooked to approach. One of them however, was still persists investigating as they take hold of the door’s handle before opening it back up. Everyone near is left perplexed when gazing to what lies behind the doorway, failing to find the scene that the trio walked out from and instead see the bland inside of a normal home.

In the purple psychic’s finger spins a key engraved with bronze carvings held against the head, its design unmistakable from any other; the dimensional psychic nervously watching as the Wedsle causally flips this key around in each of his fingers before warning how: “Will you quit dicking around with the key and just put it in your damn pocket already.” “Frids, relax, this bronze baby here’s in good hands. You going on actin like I got a pieces of priceless diamond right here.” Wedsle jests. “To us, it might as well be. That little piece of bronze you got whirling around your fingers is our only ticket back in the safe house.” “Yeah, Wedsle. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt you to be a little more careful with our only way back.” Thursotte reinforces. “Man, you two really think I’m some sort of careless jackass, don’t you? Listen, long as my hair is as purple as my pubic areas; I swear that this key ain’t gonna slip my-” Yet in the midst of swearing this, the key wind up twirling right off the tip his finger and fly across the street; all of the jerking their sites towards where the piece of bronze careens. “Shit.”

The trio make a frantic mad dash to their one way ticket back to their safehouse as it clangs across the streets of Chinatown; some of the locals nearby watching amused as they desperately race after the piece of bronze. Both Thurs and Weds blood runs cold when watching the key bounce towards the storm drain and fall straight through the metal grate; the purple psychic shouting out: “No! Fuck! Why!” “What do you mean why!? You were spinning it on your finger! Of course this happened!” Thurs exclaims, clutching the violet psychic’s shirt collar. Their overall panic soon deflates when looking back towards the storm drain and finding the 2nd dimensional arm of their other partner slipping out from the grate, turning her hand back to normal to open her palm and show the piece of carved bronze in her hand. “Oh...right...”

After Frida finishes fishing the precious key back into their hands, the purple mobster compliments her as she comes back with: “Nice save, Frids. Now just hand that little trinket over and I’ll stuff it where the sun don’t shine. Of course I mean down in my-” “No.” the dimensional psychic denies. “What, with it being made of Julian’s power; It ain’t like you got anywhere to put it.” “That’s why I’m counting on Thurs’ hands to keep a grip on it rather than risk it being in your slippery twig fingers.” she explains, putting the key in the young man’s grasp. “Come on, Frida. All these years we’ve worked together, you feel more comfy having him hold onto it than me?” “It’s the fact that I’ve know you for that long is why I’m more confident handing the key to Thurs. He’s proven to be more careful in the short time I’ve known him than you have in the years I’ve been with you.” “Ouch, really twisting the knife there.”

“I ain’t too sure of that, Frida. I mean with my set of psychic powers in particular, you think that-” Thursotte then attempt to bring up. “I’m sure you got this. Just keep it in your pocket and it’ll be alright.” “Hmm...if that’s all I need to do…But how come Sat couldn’t come along? She probably would have been the better pick for this.” “Thought she told you about staying with the new meat to help hone his powers. Guy like that ain’t gonna be much use to us if he don’t know how to pull his own weight.”

Within a room of the safe house, clear of all its furnishings and decorations, the lively psychic paces back and forth before the patiently sitting in front of the former officer; washed and scrubbed clean of stains with fresh clean clothes and a haircut to boot. “So...there really anything else I need to know; I mean beside the bare basics.” Tuesco wonders. “I mean of course there is. It-it’s just I’m not really sure how to go about it is all.” claims Sat. “What do you mean?” “I’m saying that I’m not sure if going over general tips or pointers is the best way to go here.” “That’s it? No kind of intense training with you on my back, Swamps of Dagobah style?” “Well, you can probably guess by now that every psychic power from person to person is wholly unique, so there’s only so much I can do for you before you have to figure out the rest on your own. But, since I was in your position only around several months ago, I thought going through a couple of tricks that helped me out would work with you.” “Great…” he sigh with a hint of sarcasm.

“Right, so…” Satette begins with, pulling out a rose from her dress pocket. “Now that you know what aspect of this world you have under your command, the next step is figuring out how much you can do with it; that typically comes with three factors. Quantity, will, and creativity. Most psychic’s that control physical aspects need to have their element in arms reach to effectively wield it; which shouldn’t be much of a problem for you considering you can solidify air, and air is...pretty much fucking everywhere.” From this does Tuesco take in a deep breath of the air around them before going: “Of course.” “Willpower on the other hand is more of a matter of practice than anything. Calling it simply that might not be it. I think mental fortitude and focus are more accurate in this case. Ideally, you have to get in the mindset of your power being a natural part of you, like getting in the habit of breathing...or I guess using a part of your brain would be more appropriate here.” Sat explains, Tuesco rubbing the back of his head. “Okay, like...think of it like a muscle under your control; the more you work it, the better it’ll be.”

“And creativity?” Tuesco continues with. “That is honestly the most important step. While the limits of how much air you have under your control can widely vary; it is always critical not to think how much of it you can use, but what you can do with how much you got. Like this rose in my hand here.” the lively psychic instructs, presenting the ruby red rose in her hand. “As it stands now, this simple flower is almost next to harmless; really the only thing worth of note being its thorns set along its neck. Not really the best sort of tool one could use. But with a little bit psychic finesse...”

Within the young woman’s grasp, a natural green glow begins to encompass the unassuming flower; Satette’s aura enveloping the piece of flora as it begins to reform its very biological structure. Among its transformation does the neck of the rose stretch out across the young woman’s hands and ravels around her knuckles; the thorn held through the stem facing out from the front of her hand. When the lively psychic dismisses her aura out from the plant, its glow fades away to unveil what she had transformed the rose into; Tuesco left surprised to see the roses stem wrapped around her knuckles as she presents it with: “Boom! Thorn rose knuckles, perfect for leaving behind gashes against whoever wants to mess with you. Or…” Spreading her power through the rose again, Satette commands it to unravel from her hand and instead reform in her grasp; its stem straightening to a tip point as its thorns against lines its neck. “A lacerating dagger; case you want to really dig in whoever you wanna stab with a hearty twist.” she explains twirling the freshly made dagger about. “Uh...ok-okay.” the former officer utters, left mildly disturbed over the young woman’s graphic example. “Or if you wanna leave all of this as a nasty surprise…” Once more does Sat trail her power across the rose forged dagger and starts to remold its very structure to wrap around the wrist; her green power dispelling to reveal the rose having enveloped her arm as the bud of the flower blooms across the back of her hand. “Keep it disguised as a fashionable bracelet, ready to draw the blood of your foes at a moments notice.” “Right...But how is showing all that supposed to help me?” Tuesco then asks. “Well, considering what all you did back in the complex I found you in, and what Wedsle told me about; it sounds like your having trouble trying to construct more complex geometric shapes. So that might be the best place to start with you.”

A quiet grumble seeps out from underneath the man’s breath as the young woman instructing her sits down to tell him: “So remember when I said how you need to focus on what you want the air to be. Lets try making a cylinder around you with that method.” Upon his teachers request, the former officer stands off the floor before he stretches his arms out from both sides; Tuesco’s cerulean blue power seeping out from the palms of his hands as it expands around him. But the further he stretches his aura out to try and surround him and make a cylinder, the more this task strains him; Satette left worried as the man before him show signs of distress and pain. Tuesco can’t even manage to his aura together before it suddenly evaporates, the man himself letting out a pained hiss as he grasps the side of his temple while seething: “Agh! Dammit, my head!” “Oh jeez. I guess your brain ain’t really use to doing something that complex yet. How bout we try something a more small. Maybe like...a cup.” “Ngh...O-okay.” the man sighs, taking his hands off his head to hold one of them out.

Holding the palm of his hand up, the former cop begins to again focus in using his aura to create the very shape Satette wants out from him; his cerulean blue power seeping out and swirling from his palm. Tuesco lets out a small grunt as he concentrates on making his power trap the air into the form he desires, focusing on directing the aura to slowly form into a cup. And after a moment of concentrating his power does his aura finally form into the shape he wishes and commands it to vacuum up and solidify the air within; the former cops blue glow dissipating as he finally forms a cup made from solid air in his hands. Yet when the strenuous process had been said and done, the cup that Tuesco had transformed the very air into was left about as small as a shot glass; a disappointing feet of which starts to get him down.

“Uh...Well I mean, its a start.” Sat attempts to compliment. “I guess so.” groans Tuesco. “Hey, don’t feel too down about it. I had trouble doing bigger stuff when I first started out too. All it takes is some practice and some exercise.” “Like crunches or something?” “What I mean is think of these powers like an added muscle in your body, make sure to treat it well and practice so you can keep that muscle in tip top shape.” “Well, if it really is that simple, then this’d be considered for a toast, don’t you.” the former officer claims, handing the freshly made shot glass of solid air to the young woman. The former officer then takes out a stainless steel flask he pulls out from inside his jacket, unscrewing the cap to pour some liquor in the air made shot glass; the alcohol pour within seemingly floating right above Sats hand as its washes around in the tiny cup.

“What’s the occasion?” she wonder. “I just haven’t thanked you yet for doing all this for me, and I’ve been dong nothing but complain so far. Hoping this’ll at least make up for that. You think so?” After taking a brief moment to stare to her own reflection held in the liquor floating in the invisible cup, the lively psychic shrugs her shoulders and goes: “Eh, why not? 5 p.m somewhere, right?” In one fell swoop, the young woman gulps down the shot of alcohol the same time Tuesco takes a swig out from his flask; the liquor slithering down their throats as smooth as silk.

“Ahh. Whelp, that was exhausting. Same time tomorrow?” the former officer tries to leave with. “Oh no no no no no no. We are far from done here. We just got started” Sat goes, clutching the man’s shoulder. “Huh?” “I don’t really know what it was like in NYPD, but that easy going attitude ain’t gonna be enough anymore. We’ll be dealing with the crime syndicates psychics threatening our lives every single step we go; nearly on a day to day bases, really. So if you have any hopes of getting out of this whole mess alive, the time for taking it easy is over. We gotta kick this psychic training regimen up in high gear if you want to stand a chance. Cause if you don’t, they’ll be people out there more than happy to slit your throat open.” “What!?” “You did a nice job making a shot glass on the first try, so were gonna keep going. We ain’t stopping til you can form an entire plate and bowl set out of the air we breath.” Its upon this that it finally becomes clear to the former officer how much shit he had wound up getting in, the overwhelming realization clear to see on Tuesco’s face as his flask slips out from his hand and falls to the floor. “You’re cleaning that!” they hear Julian demand from a distance.

Taking in all the exquisite and exotic smells wafting through the air, Thursotte lets out a satisfied sigh as he shivers; all before claiming how: “Oh god. Its been so long since I’ve taken in the swelling scent of freshly made Chinese food. Really haven’t had any since I was in collage.” “Oh Thurs, that fucking cheap ass restaurant shit is nothing compared to the finely crafted and well prepared dishes served daily in this little slice of the east. The spices and foods these people get from direct oversea’s imports are the stuff of legends, the kind that people all over this city, hell even this country, to partake in the smorgasbord of exotic foods and the flavors they give. And the people, the dear wonderful people, they have the right idea when it comes to having good times aplenty, the prostitutes that roam the streets of the night can lend you pleasures beyond expectation. I had one that manage with nice tits to shove her finger in my-” Yet before the purple psychic could continue his description any further, Frida, thankfully, lets out a fake cough to grab their attention before she reminds him of how: “Didn’t we come here to scoop for info out here. Not shove food and unmentionables down our throats.” “Right right right! Can’t stay here too long, so lets straight to business and ask around for anything these guys might know.” “What makes you think anyone hear would know about the mob?” Thurs then question. “Because Thurs, exotic foods, spices, and people aren’t the only thing’s that come oversea’s. The crime syndicate of New York has had a long and weathered relationship with the dark and seedy underbelly that migrated from the depths of China. Where do you suppose the mob gets their imports from?”

Just before any of them could speak so much as another word on the matter, there attention is baited by a pained scream that echoes across the other side of the road; the three of them peering over to witness a man that just had wasabi flicked into his eye. Among the stinging pain brought by the famous green spice does the man start to run through the streets and straight into a woman carrying numerous hefty boxes in a towering stack; all of these weighty packages falling onto the poor guy as they slip from the woman’s grasp. “Shit, that sucks.” comments Weds. “What a way to start the day.” Frida claims.

Yet this be not the only series of unfortunate events they witness, as their site trails over towards a mobile food truck that suddenly catches fire; the chefs hair lit ablaze as she tumbles out from within and frantically dashes through the streets. The flaming chef makes a mad dash straight towards a tank filled with water sitting in another booth to swiftly put out her blazing head of hair; this quick solution only leading to more trouble though as she jerks her head back up from the hazy water, surfacing to scream out as several crabs latch tightly onto her face. Both Weds and Frida turn their eyes to the chaos causing psychic after watching these unlucky sequences unfold; Thursotte left surprised upon their unspoken accusation as he defends himself with: “What the-! Y-You think I’m doing this!? Guy’s you can’t even see any sort of aura around; how could this be me?” “Mmmm, true. Plus your kind of chaos is more wide spread and generalized, it ain’t this precise and targeted.” the dimensional psychic backs him up with. “Eh, whatever? We have more important things to worry about then a couple of people having some bad days.” the violet psychic brings the conversation back to.

“Yeah, speaking of. How do you expect to go about finding what we wanna know?” Thurs then questions. “Simple as spittin shit, Thurs. Just ask around.” “To anybody?” “No, not to just any rando out here. Booth vendors, restaurants owners, small shops; basically anyone that had the wrong mind to set up business around this part of town.” Wedsle explains. “Why is that a bad thing? With how much traffic this place seems to keep getting, opening a business here’s might as well be a no brainer.” “And that right there is the reason why the mob thought best to keep a tight grip in this part of the city; the revenue its businesses rakes in alongside the imports they get from here. Chinatown might as well be an unofficial overseas trading route; long as these folks here keep up the supplying, they get to keep their businesses running smoothly, and their lives spared to boot.” adds Frida. “That’s just heinous.”

“Yeah well, that’s just the way the world of crime works; and we’re gonna be taking little tour through this little piece of the east to find ourselves some info we can use against it.” “Which is why our best bet is for you to split?” Wedsle goes and tells Thursotte. “Just me, why!?” “If something goes and happens to Weds and I, we’ll need you to go back to the safe house for backup. Something to keep as an escape plan if things go south while your asking around.” Frida assures. “I don’t know about this guys, what if-” Thurs attempts to ask, rubbing the pocket he kept the key in. Though in the midst of questioning this does he look back to find the two already making their way through the street, both of them turning the corner as Frida assures that: “You got this!” Unbeknownst to either of them, another watches them all split off from afar from the shadows of an alley; a man dressed in yellow and black swirling jacket and pants laced with traces of golden studs. In both of his hands lye a pink, star shaped fruit; its sweet juices dripping onto the concrete as he partakes in its splendor.

A quiet worried groan can’t help but escape from him upon his friends departure, with Thursotte nervously turning over to trek the streets of Chinatown; his mind soon left to ponder which of these numerous businesses that lay out before him, and how to go about questioning for any sufficient information. From the way Wedsle put it, half of the restaurants and stores around here might just be under the mobs jurisdiction. If that’s true, being careful with my words is key; one wrong phrase and this place will be swarming with psychic mobsters before we know it. So Thursotte decides to start off this little quest at the very first indoor shop that he comes across, the sign above show Chinese letters printed across; though one would guess this being some sort of ancient Chinese antique store as the windows show statues and decoration dating back to numerous other dynasties.

The very moment that the young man enters the shop is when his interest perk as he beholds all the other artifacts and statues that line both the walls and the shelves, Thurs left mesmerized among the unique and exotic decorations surrounding him. Statues of serpent like dragons, monks, stone warriors; along with water paintings, chimes, small floral decorations, and robes the likes of which one would be seen wearing around that time. Wow! It’s all so pretty and- Before he could lose himself in the mystique and wonder of these pieces, the young man shakes off his hypnotic trance and slaps both of his cheeks together to regain his composure. Focus, Thurs; this is serious. This isn’t the time to be a tourist. Just ask the guy a couple questions and leave.

Reeling in his amazed wonderment, Thurs waltz right on over to the counter to face the cashier on the other side; an old man dressed in a polo long sleeve shirt and donning a cowboy hat. “Greeting, my friends. I was just in the neighborhood browsing around and heard about where I could hear about some dirt concerning this city’s crime syndicate. You think you know what a guy like me could might wanna hear.” he greets with, putting on a half hearted confident facade. That fake confidants starts to waver however when the owner starts to speak in words that he fails to understand; Thurs compelling the guy to: “Come again?” When speaking once more, the young man is left only more confused as he doesn’t understand a single word that comes out from his mouth; Thursotte simply looking to the owner with a perplexed gaze. The old man lets out a frustrated sigh before he ducks underneath the counter, only to come back up to put a sign written in English onto the counter. “The owner of this establishment understands and speaks exclusively in Chinese. Please translate or make your way to the exit.” it reads. “Oh...Oh no…”

A nervous worry begins to seep into the young man upon this discovery as he comes to realize how he doesn’t understand a single lick of Chinese in the slightest; sweat running down his forehead as she starts to back away from the counter and go: “Uh, well I guess I’ll just leave you back to your business, I hope you have a great day.” Just as he was about to make his way out from the store, Thurs turns around only to wind up bumping into another man wearing a lime green hood; Thursotte continuing to exit out from the shop as he quickly apologizes with: “Sorry!”

After exiting the establishment, the young psychic attempt to keep his thoughts from spiraling as he continues to walk through the streets; all the while he thinks of any other way he could gather information. Just relax, Thurs. This ain’t as big of a roadblock you think it is. So what there might be a couple of people living here that only speak in Chinese, that doesn’t mean everyone here does. I mean this place is rooted in the middle of one of the most famous cities of America, there has to be people around here that speak English. Plus from the way Wedsle put it, some of the shops around here have to know something about the mob. Even if things don’t work out there, I can always just pop back in the safe house and ask Sat and Tues for…for...f-for…

Thursotte’s budding optimism is swiftly cut short when delving into the pocket where he had left the bronze key in; that sense of worry returning as he reaches inside only to feel not a thing tucked in there. This worry ultimately evolves into utter dread when pulling this pocket inside out discover there be nothing inside; the young psychic shuttering as he internally screams within his mind. Where’d it go!? He frantically starts patting around all over his body in searching for the key, digging into his other pockets to check to see if he had misplaced it there instead; but this effort draws no hope for results as Thurs panics. Where’d the key go!? I know I put it in my pocket! I couldn’t have just lost it! It doesn’t make any sense, where could it have- Its in the middle of his internal freak out that he remembers when he was leaving the shop, having bumped into that random man in the lime green hoodie; this soon making him realize what had happened to him. That’s must’ve been it. That guy that bumped into me, he picked it out from my pocket as I was trying to leave.

With a glance back towards the antique shop, Thursotte spots the man in the lime green hoodie making his exit and heading the other way; the young psychic making a frantic bolt towards the guy who he knows picked the key off of him. I didn’t bump into anybody else when I got here! He has to have taken it! When the guy glances back to spot Thurs racing right after him, he almost immediately makes a run for it and speeds through the streets; knocking down whoever may stand in his way. If I don’t get that key back, we’ll end up stuck out here and fresh for the mob to finish off! No matter what, I can’t lose it!

Down a couple more city blocks, Frida and Wedsle casually stroll through the streets of Chinatown and come to the other part of the shopping district; the dimensional psychic feeling a bit weary as she constantly glances back before she goes: “I should’ve went with him.” “Girl, just loosen the chain up already. You sound like one of those fucking know it all helicopter parents.” “Most competent parents wouldn’t leave their kids to ask around for secrets of the mob alone.” “Good thing Thurs isn’t a kid, is he?” “Wedsle!”

“He’ll be fine, Frida. Thursotte isn’t as wet behind the ears anymore. He’s done plenty of feats to prove that he can handle whatever trouble he gets into. Like when he caused that traffic jam to stop that delivery you two intercepted.” “Yeah.” she says. “Or when he took on one of the apostles heavenly knights...think that’s what those larpers called themselves.” “True.” “The time he dragged you through the inside of a crumbling office while being chased by cops.” “Mmhm, alright fine. Guess it wouldn’t hurt to let the kid do stuff on his own. If he can keep that key on him, then I might have nothing to worry about.” “Like you said Frids:  He’s proven to be more careful in the short time you’ve known him than I have in the years you’ve spent with me” the violet psychic calls back to, bringing a little smile to his dimensional merging partner. “So, where the hell in this little slice of the east are you expecting to dig up some dirt?” the dimensional brings the topic back to. “Don’t worry about any of that, I know of ways around here that outta point us to the buried treasure of intel we’re looking for.”

A reassuring thought that the two of them take as they travel deeper into the depths of this oriental piece of the big apple; neither of them aware in the slightest of a third party stalking them from among the crowd of tourists. Out from the countless people does this man watch the two from afar as he finishes chowing down on his piece of fruit. When the man donned in yellow and black finds his supply of star shaped fruit running dry, he breaks his sites away from his pair of pursuits to gauge the people around him; his eyes wondering off towards the side and lock his eyes upon another, a man dressed in a blue tee making his way into a public restroom. A sinister grin stretches across the fruit eating man as he follows after this unsuspecting guy.

Within the private confines of the men’s restroom can the man in the blue tee be seen relieving himself against the urinal; a soft and nearly silent moan escaping from him as he lets all the piss in his bladder out. Its soon after starting that he then sees another man move to the urinal neighboring his, the guys yellow and black bejeweled outfit drawing his eyes over to him. But when this extravagantly dressed guy looks back at him, he quickly jerks his head the other way in hopes of his gawking not being noticed; all the while the man he looks away from seizes his opportunity and reach over towards him. A bright pink aura seeps out from the palm of his hand as the man in yellow and black thrusts his arm into the other man’s side; his victim left utterly comatose as the psychic digs deep into his very being. In just a few more moments does the guy in the bejeweled outfit finally withdraw his arm out from his victims side; reeling from within a bright pink power that begins to take shape before his very eyes. This formless glob of pink power soon takes the shape of a plump glowing star fruit, the exact same kind of star fruit that he had been eating just moments ago.

The man dressed in the blue tee swiftly comes to and gazes down to where he had relieved himself, left shocked when he discovers having urinated down the leg of his pants; an embarrassing unlucky situation that leaves him all the more perplexed as he tucks his dong back in and zips right back up. Away from the urinal does the man then waltz over towards the sink in a bid to wash away the shame of soiling himself, only for the knob to break off as soon as he attempts to turn it; a geyser of water spewing against him as he backs away from the broken sink. Now drenched and cold, he turns to the paper towel dispenser to at least try to dry off; his grief growing when the pulling the lever only for the dispenser to jam. The soaked man is left fed up with it all and simply decides to leave; only to wind up slipping from the water all over the floor and unintentionally knocking over another man trying to come in. Stepping right over these two, the guy donning the yellow and black swirl jacket emerges out from the public restroom with a freshly picked piece of star fruit in his hands, wasting not another moment to bite down upon its soft hide and slurping the juices within; this man venturing back towards where he saw his real pursuits went as he takes another bite.

Struggling grunts and straining breaths echo across the halls of the safehouse as Tuesco continues practicing his newfound psychic powers; Satette watching closely as the former officer attempts to form his cerulean blue aura into that of a big donut. His attempt to make the more complex shape out of the air itself ends rather anticlimactically, as Tuesco is just about to complete the shape before his mental fortitude crumbles; his aura dissipating as the stress inflicted becomes far too much for him to handle and nearly collapses as a result. Sat immediately rushing over to his side as he fumbles against the wall; helping him up as she asks: “Tues, you alright?” “I think so. Only feel light headed. Did you used to feel like this when you first became a psychic?” “Yeah, but don’t worry. The more you get used to it, those constant headache’s will practically be nonexistent.” “Thing is, I don’t really wanna get used to this. The moment a way out for me comes, I’m getting out of this city as fast as possible.”

“I ain’t got a problem with that, but the others might say otherwise.” “What, they’re gonna force me to do their bidding?” “Eh, not so much force, more like exploit. Long as the mob has as tight of a stranglehold on this city, the chances of you making it out of New York in one piece are pretty nonexistent; and Wedsle knows that. I’m afraid you have no other option but to work with us on this if you plan on escaping.” “God dammit.” frowns Tuesco, crossing his arms. “That’s really the reason why we’re going through this whole psychic crash course. You want out, you got work for it. And to work for it, you gotta be up to snuff. Cause if you ain’t, you won’t be making it out of this city, at least with your life.” Satette elaborates. “Years of work on the force and in short of a week, I’m reduced to nothing but a henchman.” “Not much of a difference if you ask me. Only which side you play on.”

With a muffled rumble seeping out from between his lips, the former officer simply keeps listening as Satette continues their training by instructing to: “Now part of wielding your psychic powers is to get in the habit of treating it like an extension of yourself. Like I said before, you have to get in the mindset of believing you can solidify air is as easily as you can breathe… Which is pretty ironic in this case, isn’t it?” “And how do recon I do that?” “Well, how other people go about that can vary, but something that usually helps me is visualizing what I want my power to do. And something tells me that your already halfway there, considering how you could easily make basic geometric shapes.” “But I’ve been trying just that, and all I’ve been getting back is nothing but splitting headaches.” “Probably because you haven’t gotten fully immerse in that mindset yet. I mean, you just now realized you can control your powers a few days ago when you’ve had them for around a month. So, to that end, we’re gonna be doing some mental exercises.” “What like taking a test or something?” “Kind of.”

Upon approaching her waiting pupil, the lively young psychic takes Tuesco’s hand holds it up to him as she says: “You’re hand right here, I want you to visualize what it looks like in your mind; think you can do that?” “Of course I can, I’m not stupid.” “Good, since it’s so easy, I want you to close your eyes and put both of them behind your back.” Like she instructs him to do, Tuesco shuts his eyes and takes both of his hands behind his back, then hearing her tell him to: “Now, think about what your hand looked like to you in that moment; think of the air surrounding you as like that very arm and use it to focus on bring that mental picture to light.” “What’s that even mean?” he can’t help but ask “Uh...O-okay, so you know how in Kindergarten around November, the teacher has them all make turkeys by putting their hand over the paper and tracing it. Think of it like that, except with air instead of blueberry scented markers.” This visualization exercise set upon him, Tues takes in a calming deep breath before he begins to make a picture in his mind him putting his hand over a piece of paper; imagining a marker swirling along the outline of his hand as he keeps his thoughts focused. And though he starts to feel the same headaches coming on as he did before, the freshly new psychic fights through the encroaching migraine and holds his thoughts steady to finish picturing himself drawing the turkey.

Once he successfully finishes this mental exercise, he then wonders aloud: “Did...did it work?” “Why don’t you feel over and find out?” he hears the young woman suggests. Like she tells him to, Tuesco takes his hands out from behind his back and reaches over to feel if his visualization exercise had work; sparks of joy surging through him as he feels the palm of his hand slide up a smooth cylinder. Moving his hand up to the top of this cylinder is he astonished to feel what resembled a hand, running his fingers across its own. “Is this...Did I do it?” he utters. “Open your eyes and see.”

From the young woman’s simple suggestion, Tuesco opens his eyes to behold his own hand caressing the very air he solidified, feeling this piece of air taking the same shape he had pictured in his mind. Fingers, palm, even the arm, the new psychic had successfully recreating his own arm with nothing but the air around them; a feet of which he was amazed to have pulled off. “It worked…I actually did it!” “I mean the hand feels less detailed than it should be, but this still is a fantastic start. You keep doing stuff like this and you’ll be able to make way more than just an arm.” Satette proclaims. “You think so?” “I know so. Now lets keep it up. Lets see what else you can make doing that visual exercise.”

Through the residential streets of Chinatown, the psychic of Murphy’s law continues his pursuit after the lime hoodie wearing man that pilfered the key back to the safehouse from his pockets; both of them swerving around the people in the streets as they hurry. The mob isn’t gonna waste any time when they realize we’re here; so I can’t let this guy get away with the key. Like swimming in the middle of the ocean with hungry sharks encircling us, we’ll be stranded out in the middle of the city just waiting for them to pluck us out. When coming up towards the end of the concrete walkway, Thursotte is left concerned as the man dressed in lime refused to slow down when nearing a road filled with busy traffic; the vehicles dashing through showing no signs of slowing down, much less stopping. He’s not stopping! The guy’s gonna get run over! But just when the man was at the very end of the walkway does he suddenly make a bounding leap to the wall next to him and starts to scale up its brickwork; Thursotte rushing to try and catch up to him before he climbs out from reach. Yet by the time he makes it to the end, his thief has climbed far too high for him to reach up towards and can only watch as the man in the lime green coat scale up to the glazed tiled rooftop.

But when making it near the top of the building, the traditional Chinese rooftop prevents the pickpocket from ascending any further; stuck at the top of the buildings corner searching for a way out. A glance around each side of the corners reveal the windows left sealed shut, refusing to budge no matter how much he tries to force his way in. At least it seems like he’s stuck up there. Just need something to knock him down and- wait, what is he doing? From the tippy top of the building, the man reaches over towards the rooftops bottom corner before he kicks off the wall; the thief making a daring leap to grasp at the black wire attached to the end of the roof. Like a hung strand of rope held across a chasm, the pickpocket starts to shimmy across towards the other side of the street. Climbing across the electrical wire!? He’s out of his mind! That snaps under his own weight as he might as well be fried. Though to his surprise does the lime green thief prove to be more nimble than he suspects as he has little trouble moving across the electric wire; like a man of the jungle swinging across the length of a vine, he swings his arms up around to clutch the black piece of rope as he shimmies closer and closer towards the other side. Oh, man. If he makes it to the other side, there ain’t no way I’m finding him again. Need some way to knock him off.

Its in frantically thinking of a way to bring his pickpocket back down to earth, Thurs’ eyes fix to the very wall that the lime green thief had climbed up from; the young man making a nervous gulp when realizing what has to be done. I really hope this doesn’t turn out too bad. Left with next to no other option presented to him, the chaos triggering psychic takes a moment to back away from the wall before he makes a daring charge towards its brickwork; Thursotte coating his leg in his orange aura as he lunges out to deliver a full force kick against the corner of the building. The very first thing that the he feels after kicking the corner of the building is the spainful sensation that course up from his foot and up his leg; the young man hissing from the pain as he kneels down and rubs the top of his foot. Agh, god! Okay, probably didn’t have to kick it.

Among seething from his bruised foot, he looks back towards the wall to find his orange power slithering up the building; the walls very brickwork cracking up as his aura envelopes the corner in its glow. And its from these newly forming cracks that the piece of corner breaks off from the rest of the building and tumbles down towards the busy road. Several of the cars forced to slamming down on their breaks as the pillar of broken bricks threatens to crash down on top of them, with the other cars behind them stopping in a pile up. Along with that corner of the building, the part of the roof with the electric cable attached breaks right off to plummet down with the rest of the debris; the lime green man hanging on the wire holding on tight as he swings towards the other side of the street. Yet rather than making a clean landing onto the walkway, the thief winds up face planting right into the next building before fumbling down the pavement.

The resulting dust soon settles to show what remains of the buildings broken off corner piled up across the road, blocking any of the other cars from crossing the mess of jagged broken bricks; a risk that none of the drivers dare tempt to take for fear of popping their tires. With the rushing traffic congested to a standstill, the path to the other side of the street is finally safe to cross; an opportunity that Thursotte is swift to take when seeing the pickpocket awaken from his stupor, the young man making a dash across the road. The lime green thief quickly recovers from his daze to find the guy he stole from furiously racing after him; the pickpocket leaping up off the ground to make a mad dash through more of the streets as his pursuer shouts: “Get back here, you!”

Down the recesses of one of Chinatown’s alleyways, a guy fumbles against one of its cold brick walls when pushed by none other than the purple mobster himself; Wedsle throwing his bike over before staring the guy down with an intimidating grin as he watches the man struggle to pick himself off the floor. “I only have about 5 dollars on me, I swear! P-please don’t hurt me!” this man desperately pleads. “Easy there, buddy. We ain’t here for anything like that, what I want out of you is a little more personal.” “Oh...Oh god...Not like this, not here.” the guy shivers reaching down to unzip his pants. “Oh my god, put your fucking pants back on, I ain’t doing that! Not in a dirty alley, at least.” Weds protests. “Then what you want from me?” “All were wanting out of your cute little mouth is a little intel; nothing too demanding, just if you’ve seen anything weird around town. “Li-Like what?”

“Eh, come on. A delivery boy like you’s has to have wound up stumbling upon a couple of dubious and gruesome scenes in your short quote on quote “Career”. Wound up unexpectedly seeing something you weren’t supposed to in the mind numbing daily grind for less than 15 an hour? Hmm?” “No no no no no no! I-I can’t! Those guys have eyes and ears almost everywhere, if they catch wind of any witnesses, who know’s what they’ll do to me!” A threatened chill runs down the delivery boy’s spin as the purple psychic leans down upon him; the sensation of panic and fear coursing through his veins as his purple eyes lean closer and closer, all the while the violet man claims how: “Well, believe me, my pants pissing pal. Whatever those guys plan on doing to you, I promise I’ll do something a dozens times worse if you don’t squirt your sweet sweet information for me.” “Eh heee...D-I! I don’t know a lot about it, but I’ve seen some real weird people lurking around there; particularly around Broadway. Saw some of them come in to some of the stores near the very top city block, then come right back out with huge boxes and bags. I don’t know what’s in them, and I don’t wanna know.” “Any names?” “A-a couple. Sometimes in the laundry mat, other times in the herbal store; I even saw them go in a gift shop one time on a late night. Just please don’t hurt me, that’s all I know!”

“See, that wasn’t so hard. I get the information I need, and you get to keep your teeth. Everyone wins.” states Wedsle, leaning away from the frightened man before he starts to stroll back to the end of the alley with his partner waiting. “Th...that’s it? That’s all you wanted? You’re not gonna do anything to me?” the delivery boy questions as he stands back up. “Nah, don’t really feel like getting my kicks whipping a guy like you down...Unless you might be into it.” “What!? No! Jus-just leave me alone!” he staunchly objects. “Hey, you’re loss.” the purple psychic claim as both he and the woman with him make their exit.

Letting out all the shuddering sensations that had been bubbling from this frightening encounter, the meager delivery boy is left to pick up his bike and head towards the other side of the alleyway; letting out a shuttering sigh before saying out loud: “Why do I always run into these kinds of people.” “Might be because of your line of work.” he then hears somebody suggests, glancing back up to discover a man in a yellow and black bejeweled jacket staring him down. The terror he felt just moments ago starts to worm its way back into the delivery guy as this man begins to slowly approach; blocking the only way out from the alley as he hears this man tell him the morbid fact of how: “You know the chances of dying on the job are higher for a delivery boy than a police officer, right? It’s pretty damn bad being stuck in a dead end job like that already; having those statistics over your heads might as well be unlucky.”

The Northwestern part of this exotic oriental piece of the big apple being their next stop, the two former mobsters make their way back into the market district towards its other end; Wedsle taking a big whiff of the countless scents and spices wafting from the unique assortment of dish. “Man, feels like such a tease coming here without getting a bite to eat. You want to unload all that flavor in your mouth, but they just keep pulling away the moment you try and have a taste. Its fucking torturous, dammit!” he laments. “Ain’t like we could afford any of this anyway. The targets hanging on our heads alongside what little cash we have; we can’t risk going around blowing it all on whatever meal gives you any food erection. Every single cent counts for us at this point.” explains Frida. “I know. It just sucks going through here knowing that.” “If you have such a stick up your ass about it, why didn’t you rob that guy you were shaking down for info? Pretty sure those 5 bucks could gotten you something.” “Nah, guy stuck in a shitty job like that needs every cent he can scrounge up. All I’d be getting from the bowl of udon I could buy is a bad taste in my mouth.”

In the middle of this discussion, their attention is beckoned towards a commotion going on at a stand next to them; one of the customers letting out a frightened scream when one of the dumplings she had put in their mouth unfolds. The piece of dough breaks open to unleash a whole swarm of baby spiders that crawl out from the woman’s open mouth; the unfortunate woman frantically flailing and running about in a terrified panic. Among her hysterical racing, the woman winds up running straight into another booth and winds up toppling it all down, all of it falling right on top of her. “Jesus!” Weds utters. “Lotta people around here having pretty bad days, huh?” comments Frida. “I don’t know if it’s as simple as that. One’s an incident, two’s a coincidence, three is a pattern. So what would that make four?” “You think this stuff’s happening deliberately, through some kind of psychic?” “It explain a helluva lot.” “But that doesn’t make any sense. Why screw with random people instead of coming after us?” Just when the two were pondering of this strange phenomenon, another discovery then creeps upon them as they comes to find the delivery boy they had spoken to before; moaning in pain as he lays against the fire hydrant with his own bent up bike entangling his body. “Psychic or not, something definitely happening around here. The kind of luck you gotta have to end up like this. God.” claims Weds.

“It’s not like he had much of it to begin with anyway.” the two then hear another state. Towards where this comment had been voice, both of them swiftly glance aside to witness a man dressed in a jacket of swirling black and yellow approaching the injured delivery boy; a star shaped fruit no bigger than his palm resting in his hand shinning with a bright pink luminescence. “Kid barely had any of it left to spare. I mean just look at him, whats worse than getting in such a nasty crash entangle in your own damn bike. Real sad. Still…” Shuffling the small piece of fruit to his thumb, he flicks the star up into the air and sends it plummeting right into his open mouth; a potent pink aura enveloping his body as he chews upon the fresh produce. “A man like me’s gotta take what he can get. Especially when he’s stuck with dealing with the likes of you backstabbers.”

When the two of them realize what the man before them was referring to, Frida is quick to the draw as she delves into her denim jacket to pull out her trusty piece; the dimensional psychic wasting no time to pull the trigger as soon as the gun was aimed towards his head. Yet the very moment the dimensional psychic fire her weapon is her aim suddenly thwarted as a ball comes bouncing right out of nowhere and hits her hand; the bullet misfiring directly into the window of a nearby restaurant. “Dammit!” she curses, aiming back towards the man to try her luck again. This time however is she can’t even to so much as fire her weapon as the trigger inexplicably jams, refusing to budge no matter how much she tries to pull on it.

Before the young woman could do so much as attempt to pull out another gun from her jacket, the man in yellow and black suddenly makes a dashing lunge towards the two of them; a move that the two react to almost immediately as Frida delves down into the 2nd dimension of the ground, leaving Wedsle to take the brunt of this tackling charge head on. His aura flaring and his stance steady, Wedsle has no problem standing against this new foe both physically and supernaturally; the purple psychic holding the man back with little trouble as he taunts the guy with: “The head on approach? Not gonna lie, respect the balls on ya; but you sure that’s the wisest move?” “Maybe not. But I got something no smarts can measure up to.” the yellow and black wearing man brags.

When the violet mobster attempts push back against his foe, he feels something squish beneath the bottom of his shoe and swiftly peers down to find himself having stepped in a mess of spilled noodles; the spoiled pile of noodles causing him to slip up. The lucky opportunity presented to him, his fortunate foe pushes Wedsle over and sends him crashing into the empty stand behind him; the entire booth trembling as he fumbles right over its counter. Inside this booth, the purple mobster is quick to discover the rickety rack of kitchen knives left hanging above; the entire set falling right off their hinges and plunging down at him. Wedsle rolls right off to the side in evading their deadly sharp ends, with the edges of these knives however managing to graze the back of his head. Rolling right out from the kitchen knife selling stand, the purple psychic glares to the guy that had tackled him back, posturing with an abundance of smug pride as he boastfully how: “The luck of Novelle Iboni isn’t something to take lightly. You mess with me, you’ll wind up on the short end of lady luck wrath.”

During this bodacious posturing, the dimensional psychic scuttles up the side of the closest building before partially emerging out from its brick face with her weapon; Frida being given another chance to snipe their foe as she takes aim towards the back of his head. Dumbass, taking us head on and bragging about your powers! You practically signed your own death warrant! Her aim holding true, the gun woman takes another shot against the man standing beneath her; pulling the trigger to let the bullet fly. Unfortunately is her shot is not as honest as she hoped, for a food truck passing by ends up blocking her at the very last moment, ricocheting her bullet slightly to send it zooming right by Novelle’s head. Feeling the wayward bullet zip right by him, the man in yellow and black looks up towards the dimensional psychic with surprise at first; that astonishment quickly fading back to a confidently smug grin. It was almost he was silently mocking the gun woman for her poor attempts to take his life. What the hell was that!?

Rapid footsteps reach his ears from behind and alert the lucky psychic of his purple adversary making a charging assault directly from behind; Novelle casually turning around to find the violet traitor coming at him with a sharp kitchen knife. In one swift motion does Wedsle plunge the knife directly into his foes stomach, feeling the blade sink into the man’s abdomen; yet to his worry does the guy fail to so much as flinch, much less let out any sort of pained outcry. Wedsle quickly pulls back with the sharp dagger handle still in hand; the blade breaking right off its hinge as he rapidly retreat. The purple psychic is left even further perplexed when finding the blade not having dug as deep into the man as he had felt; rather instead left stuck wedge against something hard hidden underneath the guy’s jacket. After prying the blade off his person, Novelle lifts up a part of his jacket to show off the blade having not plunged into his stomach, but rather had been stopped by a gold platted belt buckle donning a mural of the Las Vegas strip; the face of the buckle left with nothing but a scratch. “Fucking cheap ass Chinese knockoffs!” the violet traitor shouts, throwing the knife handle down on the ground.

Trying his luck with the poorly made kitchen knife, Novell casually tosses the broken sharp edge out at the purple psychic; Wedsle effortlessly evading the knife blade without so much as any forethought. Weds puts in as much thought in charging straight after the pink aura psychic, paying little mind to the blade careening off towards another booth behind him; the blunt end of the knife bouncing right off the top of a drum set to be sent flying overhead. At the peek of its ascent is the blade then plunged right into the body of a passing pigeon, one that delves down towards the dimensional psychic peeking out from the wall; Frida left too distracted attempting to aim at their foe once again to see the bird plummeting down towards her. The dead sparrow ends up slamming against the side of the gun woman’s shoulder, the tip of the blade running through the bird cutting across her arm enough to make her aim flinch.

As she retches from the cut inflicted upon her arm, her aim shift ever so slight off from her intended target as she pulls the trigger; the bullet zipping right past the man in yellow and black and straight into the leg of her purple partner, Novelle moving right out of the way as Wedsle trips down from the piece of led shot in his leg. “Frida, what the fuck?!” “I-I didn’t- I mean I didn’t even...What-what the fuck!? What’s going on today!?” “Is it drilling in both of your heads yet? As long as the visage of lady fortune smiles upon me, neither of you can land even a scratch.” gleefully declares Novelle, raising his foot to try and stomp down upon the downed purple psychic.

The purple psychic rolls right out from harms away before the lucky psychic could stomp down his shot shin, swiftly scuttling over towards the building his dimensional partner climbs down from; both of them coming together as they face down the man they failed to dispatch. “Okay, direct approach ain’t working. Any other bright idea’s?” the gun woman questions. “I can only think of one right now. Hate even think of it, but its our only ticket out. See that crack in the wall there.” the violet psychic brings attention to, Frida glancing over to find a sizable crack held along the brickwork. “Oh. I see what your getting at.”

“Whatever you two are planning, it ain’t gonna work. Any sort of game strategy you got cooking up against me is guarantee to fail, long as the winds of probability are blowing my way.” Novelle proclaims, making a daring lunge towards the two of them. “Good thing you ain’t part of our plan then.” states the purple psychic, clutching the hand of the woman behind her as she merges into the wall. Before the pink aura psychic could reach either of them, Frida drags her purple partner into the second dimension with her as she scurries over to the aforementioned crack in the wall; the two wasting not a second to escape into the crevice and slipping away from their lucky adversary. “Jeez. Don’t know weather to chalk that up as quick thinking or just plain luck.” the man growls. Yet his demeanor starts to turn around when glancing aside to witness a family of four rushing into the confines of a nearby home; Novelle cracking a wicked grin as he takes this moment of his targets escaping and turns it around with: “Though I might want to take a minute to browse around to see if I can harvest some real plump crops.”

Echoing through the halls of the safehouse could the sound of Tuesco’s strenuous grunts be heard as Satette watches him attempt to form his cerulean aura into the shape of a broadsword; the former officer struggling to finish constructing the blade of the weapon. Tues just barely able to create the sharp tip of the sword before his concentration shatters and his power dissolves, the air solidifying psychic falling to the floor as he clutches his head, hissing from the headache resulting from this exercise. “Gaaah...Dammit!” “You were doing so good. You almost had it.” Satette praises him. “Doesn’t feel like it. Swear it feels like my heads about to split in half from all this.” “And that my friend is what we call progress. Like how you do a whole crazy ass work out routine in the gym; and then the next day, all the pain and strain hits you all at once. Like I keep saying, its like working out a muscle.” “Can I give my brain muscle a bit of a break then. Swear I’ve went through 5 headaches in the past 4 hours.” “Eh, a break probability sounds good right about now. Lets take a peek in the kitchen and see what we can raid from the fridge.” she suggests.

One look to the kitchen is all it takes to leave the lively psychic baffled of the state it had been left in; the rubble and scorch marks left behind after their ordeal escaping from its inferno still plainly evident to see. The sink broken, the cabinets torn up, the floor cracked, the stove bent up; the collateral damage the kitchen had suffered from was on disaster levels of destruction. “Wow. Julian wasn’t kidding around. Seems like you boys did a real number on this place and multiplied that by pi.” she somewhat jests. “I was about just as baffled. To think that Thurs did all this just by tossing around a little pebble.” “Thought he did this. Practically has Thursotte’s name written all over it. I mean part of the sink is lodged in the oven; not sure how else somebody could realistically do that.” “I just hope the fridge is still in tact.” Tues wonders, strolling over to the refrigerator. Clutching the handle to the fridge, Tuesco stands aside as he swings the door wide open; bracing himself for the loud banging barrage of guns like he did last time. Yet the former officer is a tad perplexed when hearing not even a click go off, Tues peeking into the fridge to find all the firearms stuffed within replaced with a wide selection of food and drinks. “Oh.” he utters. “What?” “Nothing, blushes the former officer.

Within another part of the safehouse do both Sat and Tues left sitting side by side among the edge of a comically long dinning table boasting about 25 feet across the room; the numerous chairs set along this table left baron and empty. The lively psychic takes a satisfying bite out of the sandwich in her hands, moaning over the delectable meats and cheese set between the soft pieces of wheat bread; admitting how: “Never tasted anything this good before. The cheese seriously just melts in your mouth; and the meat, the flavor just pops!” “I remember packing stuff like this for lunch about every other day for work. I think its just regular sliced barbecue pork.” “Really. Never had that.” “Never?” “Nope. All my dad was really able to afford for us was dollar generic brand bologna. None of the other fancier deli stuff.” she admits. “How poor were you guys?” “I-I mean for fuck’s sake. I used to steal stuff for other people as a living before all this.” “You couldn’t find another place to work?” “Nothing else made enough money. I could barely afford rent. And I got just enough for the bare necessities on a good day.” “Really? I made enough working with the police to get by and then some.” “That’s cause your working with the police; not to mention a lot of that line of work is seeped in corruption; especially with the NYPD.” “I...Gah! Not all of it was.” the former officer objects.

“How long were you working with them again?” “About a couple decades or so.” “And in that whole time, you didn’t find anything sus about it all?” “Um...Well I mean there were a couple things that threw me off. Like the security at the station was strangely uptight, especially around the cells. But I just brushed that off as wanting to be safer than sorry with our prisoners.” “If they wanted that, they could’ve sent those guys to actual prisons instead of blowing their overinflated budgets on suping the place up. I mean what kind of people you got kept in there to warrant that sort of muscle?” “Uh...Dr-drug traffickers…” Tuesco meekly admits, this fact drawing out a contemptuous glare from the woman beside him. “Okay, knowing what I do now in retrospect, its obvious. But that doesn’t mean everyone there was morally bankrupt.”

“How many people on the force did you personally knew?” she then moves on to ask. “Well I mean, you’ve met Martin. Guy was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend around that line of work, and I didn’t even suspect he was this deep in it all.” “Tuesco, it doesn’t matter if you knew some people there were objectively morally standing people; the institution itself is mired with the mob’s business. A couple of upstanding people in the system isn’t enough to transform a system rotten to its core.” “But I...I can’t believe that. I don’t think your lying, but I refuse to accept the organization I worked with for half my life, an organization meant to impede criminal activity and guard the lives of everyday people, were cooperation alongside one of the biggest criminal syndicates of New York. It-it-it-it…” Tuesco states, letting out a weary sigh at the end of his rant. Nothing but a worrying silence is all that wafts through the dinning hall air as Satette fails to find the words she need to comfort the former officer of these newfound revelations; Tuesco himself ultimately rising from his seat and making his way out. “I need a minute.” he demands. “Tues, wait…” Sat attempts to draw him back with, her words falling on deaf ears as the air solidifying psychic shuts the door behind him. An upset groan can’t help but seep out from under the lively young woman’s breath as she see’s what attempting to tackle the man’s biases had ended up; Sat glaring down to the half eaten sandwich he had left behind.

A ways into the depths of China Town sits a small, but calming and serene natural park; holding a sizable landscape the likes of which people and pets frolic and relax upon the freshly kept grass. Beside this open plain of grass stood some basketball and tennis courts, free for anyone wishing to play these respective sports for exercise or just simple fun; all while the children they bring can occupy themselves at the playgrounds installed between these courts. And among these recreational activities do dozens of tree’s stand surrounding this little slice of nature, further boasting this park as a break from the regular urban scenery, even with how minuscule it stood compared to the other parks through the city.

A small group of people within the basketball court casually, runs around and dribble the ball from one end of the court to the next. It was as normal and fun as a round of basketball can be among the fresh air surrounding the crowd. Yet this isolated game of basketball is rudely interrupted when a man donned in a lime green hoodie leaps out from the side of the court and cuts straight through both teams while swiping the ball away; all of them glancing back where this guy came from when they hear: “Just stop already!”

Following after the hooded man does Thursotte make a bounding leap right over the bushes and straight through the basketball court; careful not to bump into any of the players as he slithers by. During this chase across the court, the lime hooded thief chucks the basketball he swiped at his pursuer in hopes of tripping him up; Thurs instead catching the ball and infusing it with his power before throwing it back towards its sender. Though the runaway pickpocket manages to evade the basketball tossed back at him, the ball keeps on bouncing all the way towards the edge of the court before slamming against the base of the hoop; the rusty steel holding the hoop up bending in a way to make it collapse under its own weight. Just as the runaway thief was reaching the other side of the court, the along the end tumbles down like a falling tree, crashing down before the hooded thief and cutting his swift escape a little short. Among this sudden scare does Thursotte tackle the lime hooded pickpocket against the board of the hoop, frisking around to try and pull the bronze key he stole off him. But the thief soon breaks away from his grasp and pushes Thurs off, hoping over the knocked over hoop before darting out from the court and deeper into the small park; the young man he stole from failing to waver as he bolts after him.

The parks playground is thankfully baron of any children anywhere in site as both Thursotte and the pickpocket he chases after dart towards one of the playground equipment; the chaos triggering psychic scooping up a load of pebbles of the countless that litter the playground. Thursotte throws out the fistful of rocks at his runaway thief in hopes of slowing him down, but sees the pickpocket leaping right up to the top of the slide to evade the scattering collection of stones. Yet the power that Thurs had put with the bunch of rocks he had tossed over starts to immediately work its magic as the thief tries to slide down to the bottom; the thin sheet metal making up the slide falling apart underneath him. Despite being tripped up by the slide breaking under him, the lime hooded pickpocket frantically shoving the pieces off to flee from his pursuing victim; the two darting away from the broken slide and head straight over towards an all in one piece of playground equipment.

Watching the thief leap up the small set of plastic steps at the start of a whole playground system, Thursotte scoops up another handful of pebbles from the ground as he pursues after; the accident triggering psychic throwing out aura infused one rock at time rather than all at once. And though these pebbles might not boast as much size, their potential to deliver just as much chaos is evident as one clonks against one of the loose screw holding the first part of the playground equipment; the piece of equipment falling apart as the pickpocket races across the bridge connecting the second. Rushing away from the collapsing bridge, the lime hooded thief quickly climbs towards the top of the combo playground equipment; gazing down to the man he had stolen from to see what he does next.

Rather then toss another pebble straight at the pickpocket, Thurs instead throws some of them out towards the right of the piece of equipment; the small rocks beating down against the plastic support beams holding the structure up. Before the runaway thief could take this way over, the plastic support beams give away and cause that part of the system to collapse and cutting out the lime hooded thief’s escape. Having isolated the pickpocket in the middle of the top of the broken playground system, Thurs throws out the rest of the pebbles in his grasp all over what was left standing of the piece of equipment; the rocks beating against the loose screws and bent pieces of plastic to make the structure tremble. Feeling the piece of equipment he stand on about to collapse, the wily thief jumps off the playground system before it falls apart and makes a rough landing; rolling in the dirt before making a dash away from the accident causing psychic.

Out from the playground and straight through the rest of the park, the lime hooded pickpocket dashes across the treeline of the open fields, weaving around the trees in his way in hopes of throwing the man he robbed from off his tail. Thursotte however does not waver in his pursuit and continues to chase after the pickpocket across the edge of the park, leaping off to break off a couple of their loose branches for ammunition. Instilling these branches with his own brand of Murphy's law, the young man throws them like javelins up towards the tree’s ahead of the thief; the leaves rustling around as a couple of squirrels come tumbling out to land upon the runaway thief. The pair of squirrels frantically scampers all over the pickpocket as he continues to scurry away, the lime hooded man flailing around in an effort to get the two rodents off his person.

His pickpocket foe left distracted, Thurs tosses out another branch into the trees above to disturb something that could stop the runaway thief; yet the second time around isn’t as fruitful as the first, for out from the tree line tumbles what appeared to be a flock of pigeons that swoop down to harass the young psychic instead. Among his panic does Thursotte accidentally bestow his power into the rats with wings as both he and the thief scurry towards the temple at the end of the park, the two blindly racing right into the inside of the small oriental building. Glass shattering, wood breaking, walls crashing, and bells chiming wildly in their rapidly escalating game of cat and mouse, Thurs and the pickpocket he pursues quickly racing out of the temple and out from the Chinese park; the building they leave behind splitting apart from the resulting discord. A defiling accident that leaves the park goers in utter shock and dread.

Among the other end of the local Chinese marketplace, shoppers and shop owners alike remain weary as they go about their usual business; the ruckus heard from the other side of the lane alongside the patrolling police officers leaving everyone on edge. Unbeknownst to the dozens of tourists and stand owners wandering the streets, there lies a unique predator among them; one that stalks its potential victims in an effort to harvest their good fortune in plain site. Casually waltzing through the street market does Novell, the man dressed in yellow and black swirls, scout for potential prey as he finishes off the last of a star shaped fruit; his bright pink aura flourishing as he partakes in its plump juices.

Its among scouting for his next victim that he comes to a lonely booth manned by an elderly woman; this senior   holding numerous glassware and decoration hung and displayed all around her, the old woman’s expression lighting up as she sees the man approach. “Welcome, welcome, welcome; take a look through my many glass sculptors and decorations. Many of these figures were lovingly handcrafted by yours truly; sculpted after the mythical yokai and demons hailing from Chinese mythology. Why not take one home to set on your mantel, or your nightstand; waking up every morning to this guy’s watchful eye.” the stand owner attempt to sell with, presenting a frightening glass visage before her customer. “Ahh! Ah! N-no thanks. I uh, I actually had my eye in that dragon you have back there.” the lucky psychic claims, pointing towards a serpent like dragon set along the back shelf. “Oh! I see you’re a man of unique tastes! The symbol of the dragon is one of the 12 zodiac signs of my home country foretold to bring forth fortune and luck to those under its year. Me thinks your chances of heralding such boons are likely possessing such a mythical figure.” “Really? What a lucky find. How much you asking for it?” “70 dollars.” the elderly woman firmly states.

“70! Damn, a little steep don’t you think?” he questions. “My figurines are a one of a kind item that no other sculptor can give you, and that dragon in particular wasn’t easy to make; so I hope you understand how I ask for such a price.” “Hmm, shame. And here I imagined putting it on display in my living room for special occasions for a nice conversation starter, asking me where I had procured such a finely crafted piece in hopes of any similar decorations. Surely that word of mouth would bring about more customers to your unjustifiably desolate business.” the psychic states, his faux lamenting breaking down the booth owners wavering stubbornness. “Mmm...Fine. How does 50 sound to you?” she soon gives in with. “That’s the spirit.” Novelle goes, watching gleefully as the old woman takes the glass dragon off the shelf.

Presenting the decoration before, the psychic of luck slides the money she requests for the piece onto the counter; the old woman handing the glass statue over to the man as she states how: “May this piece bring good fortune in your life.” “Oh don’t worry.” Once resting the statue in the man’s grasp, a deep piercing sensation surges across her midsection; the elderly woman’s eyes glowing alight as Novelle reaches into her very being. “I feel like its my lucky day.” The man bejeweled in yellow and black swiftly jerks his hand out from the woman’s stomach to extract a plump piece of star fruit out from her very being; a violating act of which she is left unaware of as her consciousness starts to return. Regaining her composure, the old woman is left confused as she watches her latest customer waltz away from her stand with not just the glass dragon, but a strange piece of fruit he begins to chomp down on. “What...what was I doing again?” she ponders, backing away towards the shelves holding the other figures. The old woman mistakenly backs away too fast and bumps right into the shelves hard enough to knock over the screws holding it up, spilling all the sculptures and figures upon her in a shattering glass avalanche; an unlucky cascade of which causes the rest of the booth to collapse on top of her, with nothing to remain but glass shards and pieces of the stand left scattered.

Perched atop a nearby rooftop, both Frida and Wedsle gaze down in awe upon witnessing this disastrous streak of terrible luck that had doomed the lonely glass sculptor; crawling back up into hiding as they bare the knowledge behind their foe’s abundance in good fortune. “Christ.” the dimensional psychic utters. “I know...You think he’d pull out faster with an old lady.” “Wedsle!” “Yeah, your right. Kind of weird how he’s in one to begin with, isn’t it.” “This is serious, dammit! We got somebody we can’t so much as touch hunting us down. As long as he’s stuffing his face on those fruits he keeps pulling out of people; our chance of even landing a hit on him might as well be next to zero.” “Believe it, I hear you. Which is why I got myself a little bit of a plan cooking up here.” the violet psychic claims, tapping on the side of his forehead. “And that is?” “This dick’s only after us? So we just gotta bait him in a situation where his good fortune can work in our favor.” “What does that even mean?”

Contrast to the string of bad luck his victims had been inflicted with, Novelle proves as happy as can be while inspecting the uniquely crafted glass dragon he had just purchased; his overwhelming supply of stolen fortune saving him for what would be numerous tragic accidents. When he was about to step on an open manhole, a plank of wood conveniently steps underneath his foot to save him from the fall. When a runaway tire is but moments away from rolling him down, taking a couple more steps is all it takes for the round rubber tire to just miss him. Once does he wind up slipping on a piece of discarded banana peel and is sent flipping back, but is soon saved as he unintentionally lands against the side of another person passing right by and rolls right over to land back on his feet, all the while the dragon he had just bought comfortably lands in his grasp. Each of these close calls he doesn’t even bat an eye towards, his casual attitude from it all further cementing how untouchable he felt.

And its during this incredible streak of luck that he narrowly evades Wedsle coming down upon him from the rooftops by simply stepping back; the violet psychic left to scrape his face against the concrete as he fumbles across the concrete. “You wanna try your luck going that again, or you think now might not be the time take your chances?” “Believe me, bitch; I got plenty more chance to take. Today is my lucky day.” declares the rising violet mobster. “We’ll see how much fortune you have to spare.”

Shaking off his rough landing, the purple psychic attempts a direct assault against his fortunate foe with a daring shoulder charge; Novelle not even so much as alarmed as the violet former mobster rapidly approaches. Just before Wedsle could reach the psychic of luck, the tire from earlier bounces back onto the scene and rolls right into him and smashes him back down onto the pavement; the man in yellow and black swirl letting out an amused chuckle from the blunder. “I’m telling you Weds. Whatever you try against me is bound to be thrust in the jaws of ill fortune.” “Yeah, lets see how long it takes for lady luck to change her mind. Girl’s more fickle than a prostitute picking which has deeper pockets.” the purple psychic declares, making another rash lunge against the man donning yellow and black.

Aiming to slug the smarmy son of a bitch right in his face, Wedsle recklessly swings his fist right in an effort to break the teeth out from his smug grin; yet winds up punching someone else’ clock in when they trip up and stumble right in the way of his fist. “Dammit!” Attempting once more to strike against the psychic of supreme fortune, the violet mobster takes another lunging swing; this time thrusting his fist right towards Novelle’s stomach, confident that he can’t possibly miss. But much to his dismay does Weds haphazardly step onto the exact same banana peel that his foe had slipped upon moments ago, the slippery peel sweeping the violet psychic off his feet and sending him fumbling towards the ground; a usual blunder that Novelle typically is amused by. But the lucky psychic’s amusement wavers when watching his violet foe land on his hand and flips right around to thrust his legs towards him with a lunging kick. Though once more does the smile of fortune shine upon the thief of luck, for when simply stepping over to the side does Novelle evade the violet psychic’s thrusting leap against him; Wedsle left to careen off towards another person unfortunate enough to stand in his way.

The psychic of luck sapping can’t help but let out a demeaning chuckle in watching his foe trying and failing to land even a single strike against him, finding it amusing how Wedsle hurts himself every time he tries. “I admire your stubborn determination, but at the same time I can’t help but feel sorry for you. It’s reminds be of those poor fools taking their chances in betting races and casino’s, dumping everything they have in their gambles for the minuscule chance of making back all they’ve put in ten fold. And in the end its that addictive hope for luck that turns into their very down fall. I suggest you heed their tales of misfortune and know when to fold.” “True. The sweet titty milk of lady fortune gives such an addicting high; not much of those poor motherfucker who drink of it can withdraw themselves from it in the midst of gambling.” the purple psychic claims, rising from the man he had unintentionally knocked down. “But that shit’s only true to those who play the game. And as your soon gonna find out, I’ve been the dealer of this poker game the whole time.”

“Excuse me?” “I’m on to your strategy, you son of a bitch. That ridiculous luck you’ve been flapping your dick sucking lips on about, ain’t an ounce of it is yours. Every single piece of it you pluck away from the people around you and devour like fruit ripe for harvesting. But much like greed’s voracious appetite, its never enough. All that luck you stockpile spoils sooner or later, forcing you to forage for more of lady lucks plump juicy fruits.” “Is there a point you’re getting to, or are you simply stalling for when your luck runs out?” asks Novelle. “My luck? You got shit backwards, man. Just look around you!” Upon the purple psychic suggesting such does his foe take a moment to gauge their surroundings, a fact that begins to creep up upon him was how barren and empty the once bustling market street had become during their skirmish. “There’s nobody here! The streets, the booths, they’re all empty! How? When?” the lucky psychic worryingly questions. “You seriously thought all those swings I took, I was aiming for you?”

Its in this comment that the thief of luck thinks back to all the times the purple psychic had attempting to assault him, his efforts constantly thwarted by the machinations of his stolen fortune. “Those people you ran into, and the tire…” Among remembering all these failed attacks that he remembers the violet psychic’s aura flaring up among his blunders, coating whatever and whoever had made contact with him in his signature fear inducing power. “So then…” “That’s right!” declares Wedsle with a satisfied grin.

From the violet psychic’s perspective after each of these failed attempt to attack his fortunate foe that the aura he had infused in the tire rolled gently into a couple of people watching the fight from the sidelines; the power spreading from the rubber tire and into who it had bumped into. Same can be said for the two people that the violet psychic had unintentionally struck, inflicting his power upon them as those nearby were kind enough to take them away from the ensuing conflict. Yet in their kind efforts does the overwhelming sensation of dread begin to take them, this hysterical fear demanding them to get away from the two psychic’s as fast as they can. And as these people pass by the dozens of others that have gathered, this paranoid causing dread seeps into every single person they touch; Wedsle influence in their negative emotions spreading swiftly across the crowd like a plague. “Even when I couldn’t hit you worth a damn, that wasn’t gonna slow me down! You’re whole winning streak won’t do shit with the deck stacked against you!” Upon realizing his well of potential victims had been drained dry, this newfound situation is enough to scare him into running away from the purple man he had just moments ago been bragging to; the satisfaction of witnessing this cocky son of a bitch fleeing from him being particularly delicious for Wedsle to taste as he gives chase.

Realizing the scales of fortune were beginning to tilt out of his favor, the man dressed in yellow and black desperately searches for a route to escape the violet psychic pursuing him; Novelle dashing straight towards the alleyway closest to him in hopes of an escape. Though his efforts to flee down this path are halted as several bullets come raining down before him to halt his fleeting escape; the psychic of luck glancing up from where the bullets have descended to discover the purple psychic’s partner perched atop the building nearby with an automatic assault rifle aimed down at him. Hearing the footsteps of his purple pursuer approaching, the thief of luck forgoes the alleyway in simply hurrying away further through the emptied street market; all the while Wedsle behind him lets out a sinister laugh before stating: “Let’s see how long your winning streak goes before your luck starts to run out.”

Nothing the echoing of Satette’s voice rings through the halls of the safehouse as she wonders around its corridors; the lively young woman peeking into every room she passes by as she shouts for: “Tuesco!? Tues, come on! I know it was a rough pill to swallow, but its not the end of the world; we can get through this!” Regret and worry begin to seep their way into Sat’s thoughts as she searches for where the former officer had secluded himself to; that concern growing with every empty room that she checks inside. Maybe it wasn’t the right time to bring up that sort of stuff. I mean, it hasn’t even been that long ago that he had to fight off the man he thought had his back for the longest time. Really, what do I even know talking about stuff like this; having your whole world turn upside down so drastically, so fast. I’ve lost people before, but him. He lost his entire life, all because of something beyond his control. Most people in the same spot would just give up...I better find him before that thought crosses his mind.

Its coming to the end of the corridor that the young woman comes to a door awaiting her; Satette slowly pushing her way through to enter upon a dimly lit private room; the only illumination piercing through the thick darkness being from lonely lamp atop the nearby table. At the edge of the lonely chambers sat Tuesco, staring to a collection of photo’s cascading down from his open wallet; some of these pictures depicting moments he had shared with his fellow officers. Their bright, happy smiles left tarnished by the knowledge of what they were doing behind his back. Shutting the door behind her, Satette strolls over to the forlorn man’s side and kneels down to softly greet with: “Hey.” To the young woman’s hello however, the depressed officer fails to muster even a word to say back to her; simply glancing at her before returning his eyes to the pictures. In attempting to steer away from the depressing silence, the lively psychic continues on with: “...Listen, I didn’t really gauge how much of what I said would effect you. I know it all went so fast, but something tells me you haven’t caught up yet.” Again, the dejected middle aged man refuses to say so much as a peep for her to respond to, instead letting out a small, but heavy-hearted sigh. “But that’s okay; its not the end of the world. Once we find a way to sneak you out of the city, you can work on doing something-

“You don’t understand.” Tuesco then cuts her off with, rising up from his seat to look down upon the young woman. “I’ve put half of my life into being an officer of the law, thinking I was actually defending peoples lives. It was something I wanted to do since I was a little kid, I pictured myself saving others, making a difference for them. But in the end, it turned out to be just that, nothing but the fleeting dreams of an optimistic kid. This whole time, thinking I was doing some good in this sleazy city, I was just another unaware cog of its machine, all while I was blissfully none the wiser.” “Well..you know now.” “Yeah, but at what cost?” he recants, glaring down to the photo collection in his hands.

Another heavy sigh escapes him as he passes by the young woman, the melancholic former cop trudging towards the door with wallet full of photo’s in hand; his hand stopping just short of the doorknob before hearing Sat claim how: “You’re not the only one here whose life got swept from under them.” “Your talking about Thurs, right?” “I’m talking about all of us. Thurs wasn’t the only one who ended up here from stuff we couldn’t control. Frida, she use to be well respected CIA agent until she got pinned for stealing evidence to a critical case, getting kicked off for something that wasn’t even her fault.” “Yeah?” “And me...I lost my dad to the mob because he saw something he wasn’t supposed to. I even lost my girlfriend not to long ago because of this shit.” “Oh...I’m sorry.” Tuesco apologizes, turning his head towards her.

“But at least we had those chances for our lives to go somewhere; some people don’t even get that much. Wedsle, didn’t; but he’s still going. From minute one, it was hard for him. Dumped at the feet of a dying orphanage when just a little tot; left with no one to lean on growing up. Once that place shut down, he got tossed to the streets; left at the mercy of whatever to throw at him. He constantly had to fight off others just so he could have the littlest of bare necessities, and people looked down on him for it. People and police alike, all they saw him as was nothing but a little criminal; when at heart he was just a kid; lost, alone, and afraid. Wedsle never even had the chance for his life to be ruined, he never had one to begin with. But...even after all that, going through the worst of it so early. He still kept going, he didn’t think about giving up; never so much as crossed his mind. And it wasn’t until he found Monty and joined the mob that things started to look up for him. Even when the world was hostile to him, even when it never so much as gave him a moment of peace, he kept fighting and eventually found a life for himself; all with people who loved him.”

The man is left silent over the young lady’s tale concerning the hardships her friends had faced; Tues returning his gaze over to the door. “What I’m trying to say is...don’t quit because things feel like their worst. I promise you, even with your life turned upside down, it can be flipped back up. So, please; don’t think about what has been...Think about what can be.” All that remained drifting within the dimly lit room was nothing but silence after her words, a stance quiet that begins to wear against Sat’s hopes. But all that begins to return when Tuesco lets the light of the hallway on the other side flood the room, turning back to her with a soft grin and asking: “So, should be go back to practice?” The man’s continuing conviction and determination brings out a warm smile from Satette.

The lime hooded pickpocket’s breath starts to run dry among fleeing from the young man he had pilfered from, glancing back over to the guy to find Thursotte slowly beginning to catch up; the thief quickly inspecting the streets around him as he attempts to think of a way to lose this guy. Its among his search that the thief lays eyes upon an abandoned traditional Chinese 2 story home left in shambles and forgotten through years of neglect; the cracked brickwork and shattered glass suggesting poor structural integrity, like the whole place was simply waiting to fall apart. A perfect place to try and shake off this guy. Without even a moment of hesitant does the thief in the lime hood race straight through the busted down front door of the abandoned abode, with the psychic of Murphy’s law sprinting straight after him.

The dust collected within the home throughout the countless years is sent flying with every swift step the two of them make in their pursuit, the swept up clouds glimmering against the sunlight beaming through the broken windows. As the two dash through the disheveled living room, Thursotte swipes up half of a broken table lamp right off the top of a smashed in old box Television; infusing its broken glass and metal in his power as he chases his thief into the hallway. Catching the hooded pickpocket sprinting straight through the hall, Thurs attempts to stop the guy by chucking the busted light appliance right at him; the lime hood thief turning the corner just before the lamp could hit him, instead crashing into the corner before breaking into shards. Indentured in missing, Thursotte leaps right over the mess of glass left behind by the broken lamp as he turns the corner after his pickpocket; left unaware of the forming cracks through the wall as his energy spreads.

Among their race through the desolate dirty hallway, Thurs yanks a broken picture frame off the wall and runs his chaotic power into its busted wood as he watches the fleeting thief jump up towards the stairs. Like a tossed out piece of trash, he chucks the picture frame up at the hooded thief racing up the steps; his upward throw unfortunately streaking right beside the pickpocket and crashing right against one of the steps. Still, Thurs refuses to let this stop him from continuing his pursuit and makes leaps over several steps in climbing up to the top of the staircase; Thursotte racing into the upstairs hall as the set of stairs start to cave in under his orange aura.

Out from the upstairs hall do both the thief and his pursuing victim hurry into a two way bathroom, plastered in slippery green grime and mold built up over the years; all of which the two of them wind up sliding on in their hurry through. While the thief is sent slipping into the bath tub, Thursotte winds up sliding right behind the broken toilet; the both of them hurrying to pull themselves off the floor before the other could stand back up. As Thurs slides out from behind the grimy porcelain throne, he snatches up the toilet wand left sitting against the wall and infuses his power in it before throwing it towards the shower curtain rod; the rod’s rusty hinges failing to take the blow as it comes falling down upon the rising thief. But even suffering this blow does the pickpocket refuse to cease fleeing as he jumps out from the bathtub and head straight through the door on the other side; Thursotte continuing to chase after, all while fractures in the ceiling start to form.

Emerging from the bathroom do the two run into the confines of an emptied out bedroom; the thief scampering around every corner in search of an exit among this part of the neglected home among the boarded up windows. But when finding not one open for him to leap from, he spots the door in the corner of the room and makes a swift lunge over to grasp at the knob; a sense of fright crawling through the pickpockets skin when the rust covered knob barely even moved an inch. “Finally.” the hooded thief hears, turning back to find the man he stole from standing behind him. “I got you right where I want you. Now its time to-” Yet before another word could escape from Thursotte’s lips, the two begin to hear the sound of wood breaking apart and rubble crumbling throughout the integral structure; a terrible dread tingling down their spines as they look to one another, realizing what disaster they had been caught in. The very moment the two attempt to bolt straight towards the boarded window does the ceiling above their heads collapse; entire chunks of the roof falling upon them in a torrential downpour of aged rubble and wood.

The people that happen to pass by start to gather when witnessing the old battered home crumble in on itself; a plume of dust wafting through the streets upon its collapse. When the clouds soon part do the several people that have gathered find nothing left of the old abode but debris of what once stood, with the house and all that had stood within now buried underneath the chunks of its aged remains; nothing but utter silence haunts the streets surrounding this freshly destroyed abode.

The small crowd is astonished when the blue a pile of roof chunks begin to tremble; the rocks falling as a hand emerges out from beneath the debris. From this hand does an arm cloaked in a torn lime sleeve rise breach the rubble; following, the simple pickpocket donned in the lime green hood digging out from the rocks and limping away from the wreckage. He doesn’t make it far however before the injuries he took among the destruction get the better of him as he fumbles onto another pile of broke wood and bricks. As the thief struggles to pull himself from the rubble, a shadow creeps over to loom over him; the hooded pickpocket turning back to discover the man he had robbed from standing above him. His orange glowing eyes burn brightly among the darkness cast by the buildings around them as he looks down upon the lime hooded man, leaning down closer to the downed thief before asking: “Can I have my key back now?” An audible yelp escapes from the thief’s mouth as he frantically digs into his pants pocket to quickly pull out the bronze key he had pilfered from Thurs; the pickpocket throwing the finely engraved key over to the young man and pleads: “Take it, already! Just get away from me, you maniac!” Finally relinquishing the key back to its rightful owner, the pickpocket pulls himself off the pile of debris before quickly limping away, Thursotte picking the bronze key off the ground before he yells back to the guy: “Thank you!”

After slipping the key back into his own pants pocket, he begins to feel a thick malice build up in the air and peers back to the crowd gathered among the streets; their enraged and furious stares beating down against him as growls and snarls escape from their teeth. “Hey, wait! I saw this guy earlier around the corner outside the market! He knocked the corner of a building onto the road and cut out the power over there.” “I saw him in the park too! Guy broke a basketball hoop and ruined the entire playground!” “He tore apart the tree’s and left the shrine in utter ruins.” “And now he’s gone and destroyed old Fen whey’s old home! She had just died of a stroke like two week’s ago!” “This menace has gone too far! He’s left our community in shambles! The police will have a field day with this!” “Forget the cops! They can’t bring the sort of justice this monster deserves! Lets just do it ourselves!” “Oh...Oh no…” utters Thursotte, the crowd beginning to come down upon him.

Frantically dashing through the barren marketplace with the purple psychic on his tail, Novelle makes a sharp turn around the street corner; the desperation plaster on his face deflating when discovering beyond the corner an entire shipping yard filed with countless people working in shipping and packing up numerous uniquely made items, foods, and spices the likes of which could only be found in this oriental slice of the city. The lucky psychic’s face beaming as he sees among them not honest working people, but potential crops he could harvest among these metaphorical dry lands that bare no fruit. Though even with his luck fueled salvation in site, the fire on his ass in the form of the violet traitor refuse to let up; Wedsle beginning to close the distance between them as he sprints after. “Looks like your ride on the fucking fortune express is about to come to a violent, crashing halt. I’d wager you got only a couple more puffs in the engine before you make the last stop against my fist.” the purple psychic claims. “I’m not out of this horse race just yet; I’m putting everything I have on this one final bet, and when it pays off; I’m not playing nice anymore.” “You mean “if” it pays off, you shit eating son of a bitch!”

Among the chase does the man in yellow and black take a sudden turn right into the street corner, the violet traitor following right after to witness his pursuit frantically climb up the fire escape of an apartment complex; Wedsle leaping up this escape in attempting to catch up. Yet the very moment Weds clutches the ladder do the screws holding it together swiftly fall out of their rivets; the entire fire exit beginning to fall apart underneath Novelle’s feet as he climbs towards the roof. The purple psychic leaps out from the plummeting pieces of grated steel; helpless but to watch as his target makes it to the top of the apartment complexes roof just when the whole thing comes tumbling down. “Shit. Frida! Your up!” the Wedsle declares. Upon her purple partners words does Frida merge into the wall of the taller building from across the street, partially coming out of the brick wall with a sniper rifle in hand; the spot she hangs off the wall from lending the gun woman a good position to aim towards their fleeting foe.

Dashing across the roof of the complex does the thief of luck stop just short of the edge, glaring down to see the busy shipping yard right next door to the apartment; the numerous people handling and delivering packages tantalizing to his eyes. But when anxiously looking through the yard, Novelle fail to find anywhere to safely jump down upon; nothing but the hard wood of countless wooden crates littering the sides of the facility. “So close. Just need somewhere to-” Yet its when attempting to gauge for a safe spot to land, the stinging sensation of fiery hot steel pierces through his abdomen from behind when a single sniper shot is fired right into the side of his stomach. “Bam, right in the kidney beans.” cheers Frida. A terribly cold dread rings through his body as the man in yellow and black clutches the part of his stomach where he had been shot, letting out sharply pained grunt as he stumbles along the side of the rooftop. His footing soon slips away among the frightening pain, sending him plummeting down towards the shipping yard and crashing down into a pile of crates.

Everyone in the shipping center is left astonished as the man drops down onto the crates with a harsh collapsing slam; those nearby quick to inspect the scene and are left alarmed to discover Novelle left atop the piles of broken boxes. “Oh my god! Someone got hurt!” “Where did he even come from?” “I saw him drop down from roof.” “That looked like a real nasty fall.” Among the employee’s worrying chatter, one of them takes a closer look to find the man still breathing despite the nasty crash; her weariness escalating when finding scarlet staining the side of his jacket. “Someone get a first aid kit and call 911! This guys in pretty bad shape!” “Our phones are inside, hurry!” Upon these demands do a few of the yard employee’s race right back into the building of the facility as the others gather around to attempt and aid the man that had fallen into their laps; a couple of them hearing the guy let out a soft groan and pointing out how: “He’s still awake?” The employee that had first come to him tries to get some information out from this injured stranger with questions like: “What happened to you!? Where did you get shot at!?” Its in her concern that she sees one of the man’s eye suddenly open wide; the glare he inflicts against not one of helplessness or pleading, but rather the gaze of a predator, having discovered an entire smorgasbord of prey to feast upon.

Within the building of the shipping yard do the two employee’s that rushed in darts through the hall and dart to the door of the break room; their sites sliding right over to a bunch of phones left on the counter to charge. As one of them darts right over to these phones, the other employee races over to the first aid kit hung along the wall, prying the case right off the wall as the other takes one of the phones and darts to dail 911. But the very moment he taps the last digit does the employee feel something clutch at his shoulder and force him to turn around, shocked to find another man dressed in violet standing right in front of him. “Sorry about this, buddy.” he apologizes with. Before the employee could even so much as wonder what this intruder means by this, distress and panic begin to quickly flood his very thoughts; countless anxieties, worries, and fears all gushing to the surface all at once like an emotional geyser of bad emotions. Such a sudden rush of terrible feeling hitting him all at once was enough to make the poor guy pass out.

Glaring back towards the other employee, Wedsle could tell she was moments away from screaming bloody murder the moment he approaches; so rather than take that chance, he digs into his pocket to pull out nothing but a single penny and sets it in between his fingers. The violet psychic fills its copper with his purple power before he flicks it right towards the frighten woman, the employee flinching when the single cent coin lightly hits her head. But the very moment that the penny taps against her does a flurry of stress inducing emotions flood into her brain all at once; the woman rapidly breathing faster and faster before she suddenly passes out from the emotional affliction.

With both of these loose ends quickly taken care of, Wedsle dashes right out from the break room and down the hallway; hurrying towards the back of the building in his race into the facility’s shipping yard. Frida say’s she got the guy right in the kidney beans, but knowing what a lucky bastard like that can do, he probably tanked the hit and his still hanging on. So I gotta flush down this shit head before his signature style of luck goes and throws a wrench in the plumbing.

When purple psychic busts through the door leading out into the ship yard, he comes to a terrible site awaiting him. All of the employees that had gathered to aid the luck driven psychic all lay unconscious across the hard concrete; the man bejeweled in yellow and black standing among them as he clutches the neck of one of in his hands, with the other driven deep into his body with a bright pink luminescence. From this glow does the man of good fortune tear out from the depths of the employees being a plump star fruit; Novelle gazing upon its tantalizing juices with sinister glee as he tosses away the man he took it from like a used shell.

“What the fuck!? How are...You took a bullet to the kidney’s, how are you still standing!?” Wedsle demands his foe to answering. “Yeah, funny story I forgot about til now. About half a year ago, I wound up going on a big booze binge with some of my friends and wound getting alcohol poisoning. Thought for the longest time, it was the lowest point in my streak of fortune; that for a brief moment, lady luck shunted me. But it turned out to be a blessing in disguise this whole time, waiting to go off until the moment I needed it the most. That spot where your bitch friend shot me, right in the kidneys; I had to have one of them ripped out of me!” A maniacal laughter can’t help but escape from the psychic of luck as he takes a voracious bite out of the star fruit he had just plundered; the fruits juices drooling down his chin as he chews and chuckles. “Even in my lowest points, she keeps looking out for me!”

Fed up with this lucky son of a bitch’s prattling, Wedsle makes a daring charge towards the psychic of supreme fortune; reaching over towards the juicy piece of fruit in his foe’s hand. The moment he attempts to close in on the man donned in yellow and black does one of the employee’s on the ground start to rise right in front of the violet mobster; Novelle leaping back as Weds winds up running straight into this unfortunate fellow, both of them falling back onto the concrete as the man of luck makes his distance. Swiftly pulling himself off the floor does Wedsle follow after the fortunate bastard right into an entire maze made from the dozens of packages and goods that have yet to be shipped.

The violet psychic keeps up the pace as he pursues his fortune driven foe around the twist and turns of the wooden crate labyrinth; an effort that Novelle attempts to foil by tackling the wall of boxes beside him and break open what crates he passes by. Within these boxes do stuff like decorations, industrial machine pieces, kitchenware, fine China, all of which spill down against the purple traitor in his feverish pursuit; Wedsle refusing to falter as he tanks the downpour of small miscellaneous items. Despite the purple pest continuing to chase after him, Novelle refuses to let up in knocking over every single crate he can in attempting to put distance between them; one box he topples down breaking open to unleash a plum of spices and seasoning that the purple psychic simply dashes through. Its shortly after passing right by that cloud of spice that Wedsle starts to feel a shallow, but stinging pain crawl across his very skin; the pieces of seasoning having slipped into the small cuts made from what had spilled onto him. This however fails to deter him from continuing to pursue the luck stealing psychic and fights through the seething pain as he starts to close the gap between each other.

Blinded by the cloud of savory and spicy seasonings getting in one of his eyes, the purple psychic ends up running right into a wall made of large wooden crates in his reckless dash after his fortunate foe; Wedsle slamming in the boxes hard enough to topple a column of them tumbling behind him, closing off the way the two had come in from. With one eye blinded by stinging spices, the violet psychic keeps the other locked right at his pursuit as he sees the man in the yellow and black jacket streak through the corridor of boxes; Weds darting after the lucky bastard as he watches him turn the corner.

Following after Novelle around the very same corner, Wedsle stopped in his tracks when witnessing his target knock over a particularly large crate off the top of a nearby stack; the box breaking open upon landing for its contents to come spilling out: an entire collection of fireworks that scatter across the floor. “Ooooh.” the luck stealing psychic gleefully cheers with a grin. “Shit!” curses Wedsle, making a desperate bolt after his foe. Smugly confident in his overabundance of luck, the psychic of fortune rips the lid off a crate right beside him to reveal within whole packs of match sticks; a site of which makes him do a complete 180 and frantically bolt back towards the corner. With the surplus of sticks does Novelle simply just take one of them and flicks it against the package to ignite a small flame, casually tossing the lit match right into the spilled pile of volatile fireworks before leaping back around the corner right behind him. It takes only moments for the lit match stick to ignite the fuse for one of these fireworks, causing a chain reaction that starts to set off the entire bundle; Wedsle leaping around the corner right in the nick of time as they crack off. Throughout the entire block can this barrage of colorful explosions be witnessed by every single person that was simply driving on through this side of the district; a display that ferments concern and worry among the people who bare witness.

Among taking cover from the explosive chaos, Wedsle glares over to the opposite side to see the way out blocked out by the crates he had knocked over earlier; a predicament that boxes him in with the wildly unpredictable explosions happening right around the corner. Dumbass doesn’t know how you use fireworks? You don’t send them flying over. With a rising leap up, the purple psychic starts to scale up the wall of shipping crates and makes a climb up towards the top of the stack You send them rocketing straight to the skies.

Yet among Wedsle’s ascent up towards the top of the wall made of crates, a wayward rocket comes zipping out from around the corner and blows up in a blindingly flash of sparks; the violet psychic seething as some of these sparks singe against his side. Fighting through the fiery sensation beating against his skin, Wedsle scuttles up to the top of the stack and gauges the view of the entire maze; eyeing up the route his fortunate foe had taken in escaping from the explosion of fireworks. With little time to carefully run along the top of the crates, Wedsle instead opts to take bounding leaps right over the gaps set in between the makeshift labyrinth; taking jump after jump towards where Novelle scurry off to.

After several leaps and bound over the walls of the wooden crate maze, Wedsle delves back in to descend down before the fortune pilfering psychic; Novelle himself nearly fumbling over as he manically dashes away from his purple pursuer. In his frantic hast does the lucky psychic wind up running right onto the wall of boxes hard enough to shake those at the top over the edge; the wood holding the crate together breaking as he crashes onto the hard concrete in front of him. Novelle glances back to what he had knocked over and is ecstatic for a baseball pitcher on wheels with a portable single switch generator; all of which packed with an entire gallon filled with standard issue baseballs. Rushing right over to the misplaced machine like a giddy kid with a fresh new toy, the lucky psychic flips the switch to the portable generator attached to the pitching machine before aiming its baseball sized barrel right towards the violet traitor; a naughty giggle escaping from him before he switches the pitcher on and unleashes the barrage of baseballs against his foe. Several of these ball fly right past his head as Wedsle darts away from the rapid fire pitching machine; a couple of them hitting him right in the back before he takes a tight turn around the corner; his fortune steal foe aiming to pelt him with more as he races after with the pitcher at his side.

The script is flipped out from his favor as the purple pursuer was now the one being feverishly pursued, taking turns left and right through the crate maze as the man in black and yellow he had been chasing was now after him, frenetically blasting out baseball after baseball at him from the pitcher he rolls with. “What’s the matter, Weds? Getting tired of this streak of bad luck, well you better get used to it. Forget broken mirrors and black cats; the sort of shitty luck you’ll get facing me will make you wish you were in casino debt.” the psychic of luck taunts as he purses. Fucking pitcher, generator, and ammo all in one convenient box? The number of ass pulls this guy has done would be enough to make anal play porn stars blush. Frida should have everything ready by now, so all that’s left is to get this dick head into position. Shouldn’t be hard; the way this dipshit’s chasing me, he’ll never see the surprise we have in store for him coming. A strategy set in for the son of a bitch pursing him, Wedsle leads his fortunate foe through the makeshift maze of crates like a donkey with a carrot on a string; all the while Novelle himself is too occupied in his luck fueled high to realize, continuing to fire out more and more baseballs against the violet psychic in a frenzy

Turn after turn does Weds make through the maze with the manic mobster on his tail, enduring the hard balls that are pelted against his body as he trails them both towards the corner of the labyrinth. But among the frantic chase does the pitching machine Novelle pursues the violet traitor with finally run out of ammunition; the lucky psychic almost immediately discarding the piece of equipment like a used piece of garbage. The psychic of stolen fortune then finds his purple pursuit making a swift scale up to the top of the boxes Determined to not let the tables turn away from him, the thief of luck quickly scoops up a discarded baseball from the pavement and throws it right at the climbing purple psychic; the ball streaking right beside Wedsle to instead bust open the lid of the crate in front of him. From the depths of the broken crate do a collection of minuscule bugs burst out from within, sprinkling all over the violet psychic body; Wedsle looking closely to one of the insects that crawl across his hand to see that they’re: “Ants? Ant farm?” But in a cruel twist of fate, he soon realizes that these are no normal ants when one of them stings his skin with enough of a pain to make him nearly fall off the stack of crates; Weds quickly scaling up towards the top as he suffers the agonizing sting from the dozens of ants crawling across his body. “Aggh, bullet ant farm! What kind of twisted fuck would ship bullet ants!?” Seeing the cavalcade of painful stinging insects not even slowing his foe down, Novelle decides to races right towards the same stack of crates and begins to climb after his purple pursuit; exuding a confident smile as he scales to the top of the wooden boxes.

After glancing back to see the psychic of pilfered fortune greedily tail him, Wedsle peers off to the side of the crates he runs across to gauge along the outside edge of the maze; shaking off the numerous ants that crawl across his body. So close. Just a couple more yards. In his straightforward race across the row of stacks crates does he witness a bolt of steel zip right beside him before impaling itself in one of the wooden crates, Weds glancing back once again to be shocked at the site of his pursuer wielding a loaded industrial nail gun directly at him. “For fuck sake, where you keep finding this shit!?” the purple psychic can’t help but exclaim. The violet psychic is kept on his toes as he runs from the barrage of nails that are fired from behind, hopping around the sides of the stacks in an effort to keep these nails from hitting him; yet he again proves to not be as lucky with his evasion, as a couple of bolts end up hitting him in the shoulder. In spite of these few nails impaling into him, Wedsle refuses to halt for even a moment as he keeps site an eye to the outer edge of the wall of crates both he and his fortunate foe walk along. Almost there!

The thief of luck’s barrage of bolts comes to an abrupt end when his nail gun suddenly runs out of ammunition, with nothing but the clicks of the trigger coming out from the tool; these clicks are what queue Wedsle to stop and make a complete turn around to face his approaching pursuer. His fortunate foe is alarmed over his unexpected stop and stumbles right into his awaiting grasp, Novelle nonetheless remaining calm as he anticipates whatever his boundless luck could bestow him in this unexpected turnaround. The very moment Wedsle has his fortune foe in his clutches, his stomach drops when feeling a sharp pain plunge against him; the violet psychic glaring down to see the broken remains of what once was a dragon figure carved from glass embedded into his side. This unfortunate set of circumstances has his foe let out an amused chuckle as he start to drive the sharp glass deeper into Wedsle’s torso, Novelle feeling the purple psychic tremble as he lay in his grasp. “Its astonishing how fickle the wheel fortune plays; each of us at the mercy of this never ending game of chance. And it seems the hands of fate have triumphed for me once again, and on your final gambit too. It would be cruel for man mired in misfortune such as yourself continue to live through this unfortunate future; perhaps your prove to be luckier in the next life, so to grant you mercy, I shall snuff out yours right now!” boasts the psychic of stolen fortune.

“Good god. Pricks like you are always so damn predictable.” claims Wedsle, grasping his foe’s hand to pull away the broken glass. “What was that?” “You’re right about one thing. I haven’t exactly been lucky in this game of chance we all have to call life, almost everything I had to fight tooth and nail for; probably could right a fucking limerick over how shit my run of luck has been. But its with all of it that one lesson has cemented in my mind.” “And what would that be?” “Making the best of a bad situation!” Its upon hearing this statement from him that his foe suddenly sweeps Novelle right off his feet and tosses him down off the side of the stack of crates; the thief of luck rapidly descending down towards the inside of a big open crate, but his fall down into the depths of his box is cushioned by a line ultra thick packaging meant for extremely fragile items.

While relieved over his save from this nasty fall, the lucky son of a bitch gaze up from the depths of the box to brag how: “Well, seems like your situation as gone from bad to worse; if you were hoping I would get personal with the pavement, than you dead wrong. This pillow like foam saved my skin from taking a nasty fall. And from the way things are going, my lucks not running out anytime soon.” To this boasting can Wedsle not help but let out a confident chuckle as he looks down upon his foe held within the padded crate, an expression of which takes the fortunate foe aback. “Its fucking hilarious how blinded you are by your boundless luck, refusing to see the seeds of your downfall already sprouting. Of course I knew chucking a fortunate fucker like you wasn’t gonna work, I knew there would be some sort of bullshit that would save your sorry neck. Which is why I thought to make your luck work in our favor.” “What?”

Before the psychic of stolen fortune could even so much as wonder what his violet foe could mean by this somewhat cryptic statement, the gun woman that was with him emerges out from the side of the crate with a padded crate lid in her grasp;  the light beaming into the inside of the crate being snuffed away as the top is swiftly slammed shut. Try as Novelle might to push at the top of his close call turned unexpected prison in hopes of a swift escape, it already proves too late as the lid refuses to so much as budge; the top already being bolted down as he struggles to move it. Armed with a nail gun, Frida slides all across the top of the crate punching nails along the rim to keep their foe trapped within locked in; his anxious screams growing quieter the more the lid is fastened.

“That soft foam you thought was your saving grace will end up as you worst nightmare. The sort of insulation your cushioned in is enough to trap even the loudest screams coming from the highest pitched little shits on the side of the daycare. And pounding your way out to get attention, with the weak ass arms you got; phfft, forget it.  I doubt a single souls that comes back to work tomorrow’s gonna hear you scream, you little pissant.” “Nonononono-” frantically begs the psychic of stolen fortune, his desperate pleading cut short as Frida nails down the last of the bolts to tightly secure the lid. After she finishes putting in as many nails to the edges of the lid as it could fire, the dimensional psychic emerges out from the side of the box before she slaps a sticker right on the crate’s side; the sticker being a label saying: “This package is to be shipped to “Singapore”.” “Hope you get a good view from the great wall of China.” the violet psychic taunts. “Wedsle, the great wall isn’t even anywhere near Singapore.” Frida corrects. “He doesn’t have to know that.”

Leaping down from atop the wall of stacked crates, Wedsle lands back onto solid concrete to meet back with Frida waiting by the box they stuffed their foe into; a slight hiss seeping out from between his teeth when he lands. The violet psychic gives himself a split second to breathe before he peers back to his gun toting partner and suggests: “Whelp, since we took care of that; lets snoop around Broadway to see if there any juicy intel to scope out.” “You...You sure you don’t wanna take a minute to...rest or something.” disconcertingly asks Frida. “I don’t think we have that kind of time. Who knows if the mob’s got any more of their loyal little bitches stationed here.  Beside, I ain’t that fucked up. Just look at me.” To this suggestion, the gun woman’s concern only grows as she beholds the bruises and cuts littered across her purple partners body; the pieces of seasoning and spices making the injuries he had suffered pulse and quiver as Wedsle musters the strength to keep standing. “Lets at least stop by a clinic first.”

The air solidifying psychic attempts to hold complete concentration and mental prowess as he focuses in forming the air itself into what shape he wants; specifically, his aura morphing into the form of a full fledged sword. Satette watches him in anticipation as he holds his concentration to the exercise at hand, intrigued over the progress he’s made so far since this morning. Drips of sweat run down Tuesco’s forehead in commanding the cerulean power slithering out, fighting through the rising migraine as he keeps is thoughts focused in controlling the air itself. With refined concentration and sharpened mentality, Tuesco manages to shape his dark blue aura to hold the complete shape of a long sword and starts to draw in the air around them into this mold; a sharp hiss echoing through the room as he vacuums the air into his power. The new psychic lets out strenuous grunts from between his teeth as he channels every ounce of brain power; a blinding flash illuminating the entire room, one that forces the lively psychic watching to look away.

Once this bright light soon fades, Satette peers back to their air solidifying psychic and gazes in awe to witness his power having crafted a straight sword out from the very air around them; Tuesco feeling up the weapon as it slowly hovers into his grasp. The hilt, crudely crafted, but solid like a rock. The grip, bumpy and course, but still able to be held. And the blade itself, somewhat dulled, but still considerably sharp enough to make a cut on his finger. “Ah.”

“You actually did it, you made a fully fledged weapon from thin air!” cheers Sat. “But it doesn’t feel right. I don’t think I can see myself using this.” doubts Tuesco. “That’s okay. The fact you manage to make it in the first place is a huge first step. If you could make a sword, imagine what other things you can mold. Hell, with some more practice, I bet you could make stuff more complex, like a hammer, or even a ladder; the possibility are endless for you.” “Yeah…” he utters, peering to the invisible blade he holds in his grasp.

“Thanks for that stuff you said earlier. About needing to keep going.” Tuesco then thanks her. “Uh, no problem. Its just a part of life we gotta deal with. Listen, I don’t want to make you stay in this city and fight for us; that’s up to you. But I could tell that when you were a police officer, you didn’t care about statue or power; all you wanted to do was make sure people were okay.  I can respect the fact that you just want to leave, I do. But I can’t lie and say that you would be missing the chance to make the biggest changes that could effect the people of this city.” “You...you think so.” “Of course. Why else would be willingly facing down the biggest crime syndicate in New York. Just...something to think about, okay?” With these words of thought does the lively psychic make her way out the room to leave Tuesco to his thoughts; the former officer of the law staring to the grip of his freshly made blade; contemplating of what he should do with this awesome power over air.

The near quiet tranquility of a Chinese herbal shop is shaken as the purple psychic, wrapped in gauze and bandages, slaps his hands on the counter and fiercely asks the elderly woman behind it: “You host a shop in the middle of the most well known city of the United state. What the fuck do you mean you don’t speak English!?” But rather than answer him directly, the old woman simply points to a sign set along the side of the counter displaying the message: “The owner of this establishment understands and speaks exclusively in Chinese. Please translate or make your way to the exit.” “Fucking...I never understand how hard it is for people coming over here to bother learning a little bit of English; its one of the easiest languages to-” “Wedsle, Weds, easy there. How about before you go sticking your dick in that hornets nest, you let me handle this.” Frida stops him with. “Kay, fine. Don’t know what makes you think you’ll have better luck than me.”

Waltzing past her purple partner, Frida clears her throat before she stands before the counter and begins to converse with the old woman in Chinese, managing to strike up a conversation with the elder; Wedsle left dumbfounded as he stands back as he watches the two banter with each other, all the while not understanding a single word neither of them say. A couple laughs, a couple gasps, and a couple of nods later and Frida soon parts away from the counter while waving the old woman goodbye, telling her purple partner to: “Come on, Weds.” “Um...o-okay…” he utters, following Frida out from the herbal shop. The door to the shop closing behind them, the first thing that Wedsle asks the dimensional psychic is: “When did you learn to speak Chinese?” “The CIA I worked at has a prerequisite that has you learn a second language for international affairs.” “And you chose Chinese because…?” “I thought it sounded neat.”

“So...what all did she tell you?” Wedsle gets back on track with. “Not to much honestly. Just told me about how some people from the mob stop by here from time to time to collect shipments from overseas; they get their product and she gets to keep in business.” “Names, any at all?” “She did mention how most of her shipments are addressed to one guy in particular, but always sends someone else to collect them, never the guy himself. The dude getting them goes by an alias too, something you normally wouldn’t think of. Not any kind of name that would get lost among the countless others like, John, Ben, Samantha. Nah, guy seriously calls himself “Dr. December” I mean, of all the names you could make up for yourself, why the hell would you name yourself after the most festive time of the...year?” Among the cusp of her mocking statement, Frida jovial demeanor wanes when peering back to her purple partner; taken aback by the mixture of astonishing shock and dreading terror plastered on his face. “Um...Did you-did you hear something or-”

“I didn’t mishear you, right? You seriously said Dr. December?” he wearily question. “Um...Yeah. What are you-” “Are you fucking kidding me!? He’s real!?” “Whoa, easy there, man. The hell’s this guy got you wound up for?” “You’ve been with us for how long? And you seriously haven’t heard about him?” “Uh...N-no. Why?” “I-I seriously thought that he was just a myth. A legend told to fresh meat to make them shit their pant and keep them from going out of line.” “Myth? Who do people think this guy is?” “Well, nobody besides the higher ups have never so much as lay eyes upon him. So everyone under them only has the horror stories to go by.” “And those stories would involve…”

“The kind of shit that would make your bowels sink. From what little people hear, they say he’s a brilliant technological engineer; twisted by malice and hate over the world abandoning him at his most dire. When the mob heard word about this man’s forsaken potential, they scooped him up almost instantly and put him in a line of work that made his mind, and their criminal escapades flourish. With nothing but cold hard steel, his great intellect, and the psychic powers bestowed to him, he had mutilated what parts of his own body failed him and grafted in their place chilling and complex machinery; crafting the kind of technology the regular basic bitch would find only in the realm of sci-fi. It’s after years of experimenting on his own body, he had become more machine than man; left as nothing but a mess of internal organs stuffed in the cold unfeeling shell of a robotic abomination. Regardless if theirs a shred of humanity left in him, the mob nonetheless keep him under their research and development division, having craft software and tech the likes of which hold every piece of technology in this entire city in their hands.”

“Damn, way to build a reputation.” comments Frida “And if that reputation turns out to be real, we’re in a lot more trouble then we thought. With every piece of tech under his command; the bastard could be watching us right now.” Wedsle claims, his eyes fixed to a security camera perched upon the corner of the building. “We got the info we need; lets just get Thurs and get the fuck out of here.” “Speaking of which, where is Thurs? He was supposed to meet us back where we…” Frida starts to question, her word dropping off when gazing down street.

A look down the very same street as the dimensional psychic, Wedsle peers over to discover their chaos causing partner rapidly approaching; the panic in Thursotte’s face clear to read as he nears. “Yo Thurs, we’re heading back. You still got the-” “Make a break for it!” they both hear the young man scream. “Jeez, the hell’s his deal?” the purple psychic ponders. Gazing back over to the very street that Thurs had bolted from, Frida confusion quickly turns to alarm as she turns her purple partners over to share in the same site; Wedsle left just as astonished to discover a giant mob of people marching straight towards their direction. The anger and rage in their eyes making it clear to the two that they weren’t looking to start a parade.

The furious crowd tailing behind him, Thursotte puts every ounce of energy he had left into sprinting away like there was no tomorrow; his breath left course and short after running through the rest of the district in chasing after the key. Among his dashing escape do both Wedsle and Frida manage to quickly catch up to his side, the dimensional psychic being the first of the two to question: “What the hell happened!?” “Iwaswatchingthekey, thenaguystoleitandIchasedhimaround! Itriedstoppinghimabunchoftimes, butwoundupwreckingthepark, acornerofastreet, ashrine, andanolddeceasedguyshome! I’msorry!” the young man frantically answers without so much as a single pause. “Oh, Thurs.” “Did you at least get the key back?” Weds asks him. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. It should be right...Here!” Thursotte claims, pulling out the key from the depths of his pocket. “Yoink.” Weds exclaims as he swipes the key away.

The runaway trio then stop right at the face of a locked door, Wedsle inching the bronze key back to the safehouse to the lock as he jests how: “And behold at the misshapen key glides seamlessly into the hole like a pig screw shapped dick slipping in a-” “JUST PUT THE FUCKING KEY IN THE-” “Alright, fine, god. Can’t give a man a moment to dick around, huh.” Jamming the bronze key right in the doors key hole does the wooden door glows a distinct red; the three hurrying their way in and shutting the door behind them just as the crowd was moments away from catching them. Quickly barging through the door all of them saw the trio race into, the furious crowd is left utterly baffled when finding on the other side nothing a frightened middle aged man dwelling within the one room shack; with not even a sign of the three that came in. Most of the crowd profusely apologize to the elder for interrupting his day before they make their way out, shutting the door behind them as they continue a search doomed to fail.

#lillaxtrigger #original writing

[alexs-tri-balls]

A BALLSY RETURN

After some explanations, the navy haired boy reveals himself to be the other 1st year from the Heartslabyul dorm, Deuce Spade. He, Ace and the Ramshackle Dorm residents have caused a ruckus on the very first day since coming to the Night Raven College.

"Ace, where have you been loca?"

The redhead sitting on the floor explains again that he has no clue who or what a "Deuce Spade" or "Night Raven College" is. Clearly showing hesitance on going anywhere, the spade boy is dragging him against his will.

Alex's face while being dragged

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO UNHAND ME YOU CRIMINAL, I DO NOT WISH TO GO WHERE YOU RESIDE"

Screamed Alex, resisting further.

"When did you learn to speak properly?"

As our great protagonists continued to go along the road to their dorm, they finally make it after many trials and turbulations. Alex gets immediately throw inside the dorm's lounge. After a loud thud, an extremely loud silence follows, as everyone stares at the boy that got thrown inside, face first in the ground.

"Found him"

Said the boy with navy hair, exhausted from the "workout" the troubled boy gave him. Before the unconscious boy could wake up, he got dragged away into another room.

The room Alex got dragged into

Once the redhead woke up, the light shined bright into his eyes, almost blinded by how bright it was. His vision cleared and he saw two shadowy figures. They slowly approach him and say to him, very calmly.

"WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG WE HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU? I BURNED MY TARTS BECAUSE OF YOU AND THESE DAMN TARTS ARE ALL FRUIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" "Treeeeey, don't scare him, he looks like he saw a ghost, #loser"

Alex stared at them in pure disgust, he could not believe what he had heard. Once the two mystery people realized just the amount of disgust he was in, they decided to step back for a moment to let him wake up a bit more. The boy of hearts noticed they started to whisper, obviously they were way too quiet for him to listen in, so he sulked in his chair, the chair he was tied to, like a criminal.

"ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴰᵉᵘᶜᵉ ˢᵃᶦᵈ ᶦˢ ᵗʳᵘᵉˀ" "ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᶦˢ ˡᶦᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ⁿᵒ ʷᵃʸ, ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ, ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ʰᶦᵐ"

It cuts to a view of Alex trying to spit at them.

"ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵒᵒᵒᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵖᵒᶦⁿᵗ ᵀʳᵉʸ, ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ˢᵗᶦˡˡ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏᶦᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ" "ᶠᶦⁿᵉ, ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᶠᶦʳˢᵗ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵗᶦᵐᵉ" "ᴼᴷᵎ ᵀᶦᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜʳᵃʸ⁻ᶜʳᵃʸ"

The nicer of the two mysterious figures slowly approaches the kid in the chair.

"Hey buddy, I'm Cater Diamond, but you can call me Cay-Cay if you want, ahaha" "Yeah I don't think I will" "Ah, bummer, that is #lame, anyway mind telling us what happened?"

Alex carefully explains everything that happened this morning. Everything from the moment he woke up, to the appearance of the old navy™ boy, and the very room that he is sitting in. Getting impatient, the "bad cop" in this scenario is getting slowly irritated and proceeds to chime in.

"Yeah that is cool and all, but mind telling us your name?" "It is Alex Triballa sir" "Oh where does Triballa come from?" "The uneasiness in my pants" "..." "#WHAT THE F-" "Excuse my partner here, I think I am gonna have to take care of the rest"

Cater slowly sits down on the chair that came out of thin air as he processes what he just heard. The boy in glasses and mud green hair sits down at the other chair that magically appeared out of thin air.

"Trey Clover, 3rd year, second in command in this dorm, pleasure to make your acquaintance"

Trey held his hand out to shake Alex's, but then remembered what he said and slowly retracts his hand in disgust. They both slowly talk to each other in order for Trey to gather more data at this boy's unfortunate circumstance. Cursed words fling across the room left and right until Trey comes up with his final deduction.

"Alex Triballa... You are under an ancient spell"

#happy fooly day #another post wooho #see you next year