#“we're out of toilet paper” is another one

[bean-writes]

In the words of Abraham Lincoln, "Hello."

[hood-ex]

My dad was Bruce-ing again today.

Dad: Where are your keys? I'm gonna go put more air in your tire.

Me: I already filled it up this week.

Dad: Oh okay.

Dad goes upstairs for a second and comes back with a bag in his hand.

Dad: Here, take this poncho and put it in your glove compartment. In case you have to pull over in the rain, put it on so other cars can see you.

So then I took my new bright ass orange poncho to my car, bypassing the three water bottles my dad had stuffed in the door pocket as well as the emergency phone battery pack charger he stuffed in another pocket.

[archangeldyke-all]

Ciao amore, just finished writing down an idea for fake hating with sevika. Not fake dating- fake hating. Sevika and reader being all like enemies in public, but then behind closed doors 🤭🤭

Would love to see you do something with this as well bc I know your take is just gonna be 😚🤌🏽 chefs kiss good fr

I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS

men and minors dni

'the last drop' and 'the eye of zaun' have been in a feud for years.

one is owned by vander, one is owned by silco. they've been trying to put each other out of business since their bitter divorce five years ago. the two bars sit across the street from one another, and the owners live in the apartments on top, their four children swapping homes every week.

a lot of locals take the feud really seriously-- there are frequent brawls in the middle of the street when patrons cross paths. vander's customers are all 'old farts', and silco's are all 'trendy punks,' so there's always some kind of issue that's got both bars up in arms and upset.

you try not to get involved. you just keep your head down, wipe down tables, and collect tips.

if you'd known that the man interviewing you was in some kind of lifelong psycho-sexual feud with his ex-husband, you wouldn't have taken the fucking job-- but here you are.

the door to the last drop slams open and you jump, turning around to watch vander storm into the bar. "i'm gonna fuckin' kill him!" he shouts.

at the bar where she's eating maraschino cherries by the handful, jinx scoffs. "you say that every day, pops."

"you tell your father that if he ever tries to steal my fucking cocktail napkins again i'll strangle him." vander huffs. then he turns, and points at you. "rookie." he grunts.

you roll your eyes. "yeah?"

"go across the street and steal all their toilet paper. jinx, go with her."

"i got homework, pops!" jinx groans, desperate for any reason to get out of her dads' constant scheming.

"fine, go alone. take it all!" he demands.

you just shrug and prop your broom up, happy to have a reason to take a break. you'll take a roll or two, but leave enough for the customers to wipe their asses. you're not a monster.

sneaking into the eye of the city is easy, thieram gives just as many fucks about the feud as you do-- which is none. you grab a trashbag from the janitor's closet, then head into the womens' room, ready to begin your thievery.

you get about three rolls in your trash bag before the door swings open, and sevika bursts into laughter.

"what're you doing?" she asks.

you smile from where you're breaking into the next toilet paper dispenser. "you guys stole our napkins? so we're taking your toilet paper. don't worry, i left the stash in the janitor's closet there for you." you say.

sevika snorts and flicks the bolt on the women's room, helping you off the ground and pulling her in your arms. "hey, baby." she greets.

you smile and kiss her lips. "hi, sev." you whisper.

"it's gonna be a long fucking night for us. it's their anniversary." she says.

you groan, burying your head against your girlfriend's shoulder.

you didn't mean to fall in love with your should-be nemisis, what with sevika being silco's bartender and you being vander's. but-- neither of you have any personal stakes in the beef, and your attraction was impossible to deny, and one night as the two of you were trying to impress your respective bosses by shit talking one another, you ended up charming each other, making one another laugh at the insults you threw either way-- and by the time your bosses were leaving to pick the kids up from their after school activities, you and sevika were exchanging numbers.

and now, you're in love, and you're trying your very best not to let anyone know.

"it's surprising that the kids are all so well-adjusted given how stupid their dads are." you mumble. sevika laughs.

"you crashing at mine after work tonight or should i go to yours?"

"depends on what you want for dinner. yours is closer to that chinese place, but we could get italian if we go to mine."

"ooh, fuck, pasta sounds so fucking good. let's go to yours." sevika says. you smile and kiss her lips.

"sounds like a date, baby." you giggle.

just as you're about to leave her arms and head to the men's room to complete your stealth mission, the handle starts to rattle.

"who is it?" sevika calls, panicked.

"i gotta pee!" jinx calls through the door.

"it's not your week here!" sevika screams. she looks at you with a wild expression, both of you trying to figure out an alibi to explain toe jinx why you're locked in a bathroom together.

"pops ran outta cherries so i came here for more. lemme in!" she squeals.

sevika huffs, shrugs helplessly, kisses your cheek, then throws you over her shoulder. you yelp, and start struggling in her grasp.

she throws the door open and glares down at jinx. "i caught this rat spying on the last drop! stealing all our toilet paper!" she growls, jostling you on her shoulder. you muffle your giggles with your hand.

"lemme go you asshole!" you whine, wiggling in her arms, pinching her ass a bit. she jumps, and you bite back your grin.

"ugh, i don't care!" jinx whines. "get outta my way, i gotta go!" she shoves sevika to the side, then runs into the bathroom.

sevika sets you back down in the center of the bar.

"quick thinking." you giggle. sevika's still blushing from the pinch you'd gotten in on her ass, and you kiss her pink cheek. "see you later, baby." you whisper just as silco pushes into the bar.

you jump away from sevika, sprinting out of the bar like you're making a great getaway, and she chases after you, screaming to silco about your horrible theft.

vander berates you for only managing to steal three rolls, but you smile for the rest of the night.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp

[meetmymouth]

leave the door open...

The dishwasher makes a weird noise as Harry presses the button, and she lets out a sigh, wiping her hands on her joggers much to Harry's dismay. There's a few seconds where they just stare at each other, and he lets out a chuckle, turning behind so he can put the kettle on.

It'd only been six months.

Two months during him on tour that they'd been in a relationship, and four months post tour–and four weeks of living together in his London flat–. She knew him for a few years, having met in New York through mutual friends, including her short-term-girlfriend at the time, so living with him, or being with him hasn't been too different.

She loved it.

They both did, especially now that he was off tour.

They argued over silly things, like who would cook that night, or the temperature of the room, or how she forgets to unload the dishwasher– 'the light tells you when it's done, babe', 'well I don't come in the kitchen and look at the bloody dishwasher so excuse me for forgetting a couple of times, Harry'.

They've never been one of those couples who felt very shy around each other. Perhaps it's to do with the fact that they're both confident in their relationship, and the fact that they're very laid back.

After a night out with her girlfriends couple of weeks ago, she presents a new 'conflict' in their relationship: Farting.

She'd found him sitting in bed after coming in, glasses on as he typed away on his laptop. After a few kisses, cuddles, and a few more kisses, she looks up at him with determination in her eyes.

"What?"

"Why do you never fart around me?"

"What?" Harry had laughed. In fact, she had to wait for him to calm down for more than ten minutes.

Harry had continued, face confused but still chuckling. "Where is this coming from?"

"Michael farted after the third-month mark. So did Nick. And Jen."

"Baby, are you upset that I... don't fart?"

"I'm sure you do!" She'd waved her arms around. "But never around me, Harry. Are you embarassed? Are you not comfortable with me? What is it?"

"You're– baby," he'd held her hands to his chest. "I love you. I guess I just... don't really fart?"

"What?"

"I mean, I might've done it couple of times when we're asleep or rather... when you're asleep. I didn't– why have you never farted around me then, hm?"

And that was it.

They'd laugh about it, and it was over.

It was silly.

Now, though, Harry really enjoyed being 'nasty' around her.

He's such a boy when he farts in bed, under the covers, and threatens to lift up the covers since 'you wanted me to fart so bad'.

Another thing he's been doing lately is, leaving the door ajar when he's in the toilet.

Now, she wouldn't mind if he was just weeing.

Or doing something else– anything else other than... number two.

It's not that she minds it, it's... she's rather confused.

So, with the kettle on, she gets their favourite mugs out, and Harry excuses himself to go to the toilet.

She knows why, because she'd figured his toilet habits out by now.

Every night around this time, he would be in the toilet for about ten minutes.

He goes, not without kissing her on the lips, and she can't help but laugh when she doesn't hear the door shut properly.

Five minutes pass, and she looks at their empty mugs, wanting to pour the water when he's back.

She's about to call for him when he beats her to it.

"Baby?"

"Yeah?" She looks in the direction of the downstairs toilet, as if she would see him.

"I need toilet paper."

"Fuck sake, Harry–" she puts her phone down on the counter, and walks upstairs, and grabs a few before making her way downstairs.

She stops in front of the door.

"Helloooooo," Harry drawls. "I need to wipe my ass."

"Why do you leave the door open like that?" She thinks out loud.

Harry lets out a groan. "Baby give me the toilet paper."

"Ahh, bet it stinks in there, H."

"Come on."

She goes inside, and hands him one.

Can't help but laugh at the sight of him just sitting there, hair messy and forehead extra-shiny.

"Okay," she pauses.

"Okay... I'll wipe my ass now if you just... y'know?" Harry looks up at her.

She realises how vulnerable he is at the moment.

"I could easily punch your dick right now," she murmurs, leaning against the door, and it closes shut with a click.

"You're so– why would you even say that– baby I fucking need to wipe my ass, just leave."

"No, I think this," she lets out a laugh when she notices him opening the toilet paper. "This is a level up in our relationship! I've never been inside the toilet while you poo."

"Farting and now pooing, you're so fucking weird. Okay, I'll–"

They just stare at each other for a moment before Harry lets out a sigh.

"I don't know how to do– please don't look."

"You've never wiped your ass?"

"Babe, what the fuck, of course I have," Harry says, through gritted teeth. "Just never in front of an audience!"

"Why do you leave the door ajar, then, you twat!"

"It makes me feel less lonely when I can properly hear you do things around the flat, for fuck's sake, just–" he moves his hand. "Just don't look."

She laughs, feeling a bit sorry for him. "Okay, I'm sorry, wait– I'll leave. I'm really sorry, I now realise this is... weird," she laughs, and turns around, hand on the door handle.

"No– don't leave."

"What?"

"Ah, fuck, we're so disgusting as a couple," he laughs.

She leans against the door, but her eyes are focused on the tiles.

She waits until she hears the flush.

"I can't believe you wanted to watch me wipe my ass," Harry finds her gaze in the mirror.

"It's not– wow, that sounds so creepy, please don't ever say that. I didn't want to watch you–" she shudders visibly. "Please don't say that, wow."

"Creepy?" He laughs, wiping his hands before he turns to her, and grabs her cheeks, smushing them. "Disgusting more like."

"Okay, please don't kiss me– you just done a huge poo and it's very stuffy in here–"

"Oh, fuck off, get out!"

[queenofhearts7378]

Tucker and Spud Appreciation: An essay by me apparently.

Tucker leaned back in his chair, “-and that's why we're no longer welcome at that gas station.”

Spud had a wide eyed look of wonder, “Woah man…….That takes some skill.”

“Thank you!” Tucker gestured wildly on his side of the screen. “Sam called me and Danny menaces but she's the one who brought the mace!”

Spud nodded. “It really was a team effort.” He flipped through his notebook, “Anyways how’s the progress on your side? I managed to crack into some uh, supplies and shipment invoices?”

Spud wrote down some notes, before clicking through a couple of the unlocked files on his computer, squinting at the screen.

Tucker groaned as his chair hit the ground, “Man I keep telling the guys hacking isn't like the movies make it out to be. Like yeah, if I got a back door planted I can get in and out no problem. But straight up hacking a new system?”

“The problems with being the smart ones on the team,” Spud said.

“I managed to get some payroll documents, and some employee work times I think?” Tucker blew a raspberry as he typed a few more lines of code, “All fake names. I doubt a place employs 23 different J. Doe's.”

“John, Jane, Janet, Jake, Joseph, Josie,” Spud recited.

Tucker snorted, “Yeah pretty much.”

Spud hummed before something dinged on his side, “Huh. That might be something.”

Tucker cracked his knuckles, “Share with me?”

Spud copied a few of the files before sending them over. “Hang on, I gotta check something.”

Tucker saw Spud disappear off the side of the screen, but could hear him rooting through some papers.

He looked over the information, scrolling through the various invoices. “Dude what are you seeing that I'm not? It's just the shipping invoices for a bunch of different places.”

Spud came back carrying five different notebooks, of varying sizes. “You may be better at hacking, but I'm better with the information man.”

He waved one of the notebooks, “I started helping Jake keep track of the various magic communities around, you know, to help with his duties when they kicked up.”

“Dude, that is so baller of you.”

“Heh, thanks.” He cracked open the notebook and pulled a highlighter out of a cup. He started marking the notebook as he scrolled through the files. “Anyways, I thought I recognized a couple of the areas some of the buildings were placed in annnnnnnd…..”

Spud furrowed his brow and grabbed another notebook, flipping it through it real quick. “What are some of those shipments carrying?”

Tucker started scrolling through his own files, “Uhhhh looks like…..lots of metal and rubber. Toilet paper, paper towels, napkins, and a frankly concerning amount of coffee. Office supplies, like so much office supplies and-”

Tucker winced. “Oh man, and a lot of chemicals I recognize from the Fenton's lab.”

“Yeah but see this?” Spud frowned as he tapped the screen, “These shipments are labeled as various different glass equipment shipments. And it's doubled every other month or so.”

“Could be they're using a lot of the equipment.” Tucker said, “We know they're testing facilities. But you wouldn't be singling those out if that were the case.”

“It's the fact it's double shipments of glass, so the handling of them would be different from most supplies to handle the fragile equipment. And the extra shipments have different weights to them as opposed to the originals they're copying.”

“That sounds super sus.”

“Yeah. What makes it more sus is the fact that the sketchy glass shipments originate from B.U.G.S facilities, rather than outside suppliers like the office supplies and the original glass shipments. Now it could be explained as them having the shipments sent to a warehouse, before dishing it out to other nearby facilities, but there's no record or paper trail that shows that. From what I can tell, the sketchy shipments just appear in the records, before being sent out to a different facility, where it immediately disappears.”

Tucker leaned back, suddenly aware that they were stumbling over something bad. “And considering what we know about them, after the guys stumbled across that one……”

Spud stared at the files on screen, “It could just be magical artifacts. But the more likely explanation is they're catching magical creatures.”

The two of them sat in a heavy silence for a moment.

“How sure of this are you?” Tucker asked. “I mean, the magical world would notice the disappearances right? They would have got a hold of Jake or Lao Shi or someone.”

Spud shook his head and held up his notebook. “All the facilities manage to fall near a cluster of magical communities, that's what I was checking. And like I said, the shipments originate in one facility and then get shipped to a completely different one. Never the same one consecutively, and it's spaced out over years. If a bunch of creatures goes missing, yeah someone's going to notice.”

“But if just one goes missing,” Tucker continued, “It's just an unrelated tragedy.”

Spud set down his highlighter and rubbed his eyes, “And it's not impossible. The Huntsclan has managed to kidnap several magical creatures at once for years for their hunting games.”

“Ugh!” Tucker shuddered. “I do not like the implications of that.”

“Yeah, Jake got caught once. There were about four or five others with him, and they were all misfits to their species, and not well liked so most of their neighbors and families just assumed they ran off or had unfortunate accidents.”

“That's……”

“Yeah.”

Tucker stared at his computer, something twisting in his stomach as he stared at all the locked files he still hadn't managed to get into.

“We can't tell them.”

Spud snapped his head up to look at Tucker incredulously, “What?!?! We have to!”

Tucker shook his head frantically, “We can't. You know the guys as well as I do, we tell them what we found and they're going to go tackle the places right away. This is so much bigger than we thought and in so many places. They barely got out last time and that was with the element of surprise and them not knowing about what they can do.”

“It's basically the same as the GIW! You guys deal with them all the time!”

“It's not the same! The GIW have a single base, with maybe 20 guys working there! I've been tracking them and their branch since they first showed up in Amity and they don't go anywhere else. This is the only branch of the GIW. They barely manage to capture the little blobs or ectopusses, and even then those ghosts escape on their own before I even get the alert about them!”

Tucker pushed away from the desk to start pacing across his floor. “These guys have buildings across the country! That one building had about 50 people working for it and that's not even going into all their bosses. They've been operating for years without anybody catching on! And we don't know what they're capable of! They had something that blocked Danny’s powers, and we still don't know what did it. This is so much bigger than what we usually deal with. We have to wait, get some more information, get some more help-”

“Yeah, like telling everybody!” Spud yelled, “This shouldn't even be an argument, Tucker!”

Tucker stared at the floor, pulling his hat down to where Spud couldn't see his eyes. He was silent for a moment.

“......If we tell them right now, they'll get in over their heads and they'll get hurt and I can't-” Tucker's voice broke.

He took a breath, rubbing his face before looking back at Spud. “I am not sending Danny into a place where they'd turn him into a lab rat.”

“Tucker-”

“All I'm saying is we have to wait.” Tucker interrupted. “We wait, we get more info, we try and get the magical communities more wary around those areas.”

“I don't want to lie to them.”

“I know. Ancients, I know.” Tucker crossed his arms, “But we gotta be smart about this. Are you with me Spud?”

Spud let out a sigh as he slumped in his chair. “... Yeah. Yeah I'm with ya. Let the record show I hate this though.”

“You and me both.” Tucker muttered, “Anyways, plans?”

“You keep hacking into the information.” Spud said. “Send me everything you get and I'll start cross-referencing with the known magical communities when I get them. In the meantime I'll talk to Fu Dawg. He's got a ton of connections and can start spreading the word.”

“What about Lao Shi?”

“I'll talk to him, but I want some more information first.”

“You don't think he'll believe you?”

“No he will. But he'll want to take it straight to the Dragon Council.” Spud scoffed, “It's them I'm worried about.”

The two of them sat there for a moment before Spud said, “This sucks.”

Tucker started giggling, “Understatement man. But we got this. Someone has to protect those losers.”

“Heck yeah man!” Spud held up a fist to the camera, and Tucker did the same as the two of them did their virtual secret handshake.

Someone had to have the heroes’ backs after all.

[odinsblog]

“How do you enjoy life as the world burns? When the planet is on fire, and the country is falling apart, and the cops shoot another teenager, and half your neighbors are getting evicted or deported, and Bill Maher is still speaking out loud on television, what do you do? I go to the water park with my nephew Miles.

Miles is 12 years old. He is a brilliant, bow-legged troublemaker. I love him despite the fact that he's 12 and still has a rat tail. It's really not that cute anymore, dude. We're not related by blood, but Miles' dad, Kevin, is like a brother to me. So Miles calls me Uncle Josh.

Uncle Josh, when are we going to the Warriors game? Uncle Josh, will you show me how to open that car with a hanger again? Uncle Josh, Uncle Josh, since I'm half Black and half Asian, does that make me Blazian? No, Miles, that makes you Oakland.

It's August, and it's hot, which for the Bay Area, means anything above 67. Today, it's 91. I'm over at Kevin and Miles' place, sitting in no AC, in our tank tops and boxers, watching Key and Peele.

I say, guys, we gotta go somewhere to cool off. Cooler than the movie theater, cooler than the mall, I'm gonna take us to East Bay's water world. Miles' face lights up. But then Kevin says, I don't know you guys. I mean, those water parks, you know, they're so wasteful.

My man Kevin is the worst kind of Bay Area environmentalist. He's that type of dude who will come over your house and use the bathroom, not flush, but instead write a note on your toilet paper telling you how much water he just saved you. That's a true story.

I say, Kevin, it's so hot out here, I could fry an egg on your face, which I will if we don't go to East Bay Water World. Miles says, please dad. I say, please dad.

Kevin says, fine. Go have fun at the park, but take my car. It's a hybrid.

I grab the keys and soon me and Miles are driving through Oakland. We pass by the Trilingual Liquor Store, the farmer's market that accepts food stamps and we make our way through the tunnel and the hills. We emerge on the other side in the valley.

The further we get from the coast, the ground is drier and drier, browner and browner. The only green is the manicured lawns of the suburbs, the golf courses, the empty field of the sprawling county jail. And then we see it and we arrive at our Mecca, our oasis in the California desert, East Bay Water World. And it's even more beautiful than I imagined. There's four wave pools, there's a 50-foot water park, the air smells like chlorine and sunscreen and funnel cake. Delicious.

Miles' mouth is wide, staring at all these things he's never seen before. Carnival games, Dippin Dots, girls in bikinis, Uncle Josh, this place is awesome. I know, Miles. I know.

We go and we jump in the wave pool, we float down the lazy river, we spin through the whitewater rapids until we're totally drenched, grinning ear to ear and surprisingly thirsty. So I go to the funnel cake vendor for something to drink.

Can I get a bottle of water, please? He says, no problem. That'll be $7. $7 for a bottle of water? He looks at the bottle. It says, and he literally read off the bottle, it says this here is bottled and purified up near Lake Tahoe.

This is California water. California water. I buy two bottles and walk back to where Miles is pointing up towards the sky. I follow his gaze and then I see it. There, staring down at us from the tallest point in the park is the biggest water slide I've ever seen. The tallest slide in Northern California, the Annihilator.

The Annihilator is a seven-story, 80-foot freefall drop down all in just under five seconds. It's one of those slides that's so vertical, your back comes off the ride when you go down, so you feel like if you lean over just a little bit, you're done. It's the type of slide that's illegal in 27 states and most of the European Union, but hey, this is California.

I look and see Miles. His mouth is watering in anticipation. We go and get in line.

Now, the worst part of the Annihilator isn't the ride down. That's only five seconds. The worst part is the 30-minute wait in line, standing in the stairs watching and hearing every kid go down the slide, hearing every scream, every shriek, every, oh, sweet baby, Purple Jesus. The That's a direct quote from a nine-year-old. Shout out to Purple Jesus.

Miles is nervous. His hand is clenching the railing. Uncle Josh, is this thing safe?

Before I can answer, I hear a voice shouting from the top of the stairs, Hands up! Put your hands up!

Hands up!

It's the lifeguard, a tall white teenager in red shorts. He's yelling at the girl about to go down the slide. I'm telling you, it's way more fun if you put your hands up.

And the words hit me like a tsunami. It's August, two weeks after Ferguson, after Mike Brown. After those words, hands up became the calling cry for a movement.

In Missouri, people are putting their hands up to protest the police murdering another black boy in America. In California, I'm watching kids put their hands up as they go down a water slide called the Annihilator, and my nephew asks me if it's safe here. It's August in America.

In Detroit, they're shutting off poor people's water. California is suffocating of thirst. Half of my friends are putting buckets of ice over their faces on Facebook. Israel is bombing water treatment plants in Gaza, and in America, we have water parks in the desert. Industrial Almond Farms in the desert, prisons in the desert, my family, me and my nephew right here in the desert looking for anything that could be called an oasis. And Miles asked me if it's safe here.

What am I supposed to tell him?

I don't want to lie to my nephew. I want him to know that yes, some people will always see him as a threat, but I also want him to laugh and play and go get on this crazy ass waterslide.

How do you enjoy life as the world is burning? How do you teach your nephew to hate the park but love the ride? The thing is called the Annihilator. I think it might be trying to tell us something.

And now we're next in line. A girl with blonde pigtails is shaking her head. The lifeguard says, it's okay, you don't have to do it.

She backs away and now Miles is up.

He steps to the edge of the slide, puts his feet in the rushing water.

I can see the brown hills in the distance, Oakland and all its beautiful contradictions waiting on the other side. I wave at Miles, say, you got this. You got this, dude.

And he waves back at me, and when he does, he lets go of the railing. His hand shoots up in the air and the rushing water carries him away. He lets go. He shoots out and disappears over the edge. My nephew!

I rush to the side and look over, and there's Miles at the bottom of the slide, safe and alive and pulling up his bathing suit. He jumps up and runs to get back in line, and the cycle continues. Water, blood, life, death, and maybe rebirth.

I'm still on the top platform of the slide.

I walk to the edge, look down at California, lift my hands, and let go.”

—Mr. Josh Healey

[fuck-customers]

So I just recently lost my job for something that wasn't my fault! :) TLDR: Left when my shift was over, thinking the next guy on shift was already there. He wasn't so I got fired for it.

For context: I've worked in a store with only 5 coworkers (including the owner) for a few years now. The owner has been coming by less and less often and had the back fixed up like someone was moving in, so I kind of figured he was getting ready to sell the store. I asked several times over the course of about 6 months if he was going to sell and every time he would say no. Then one day a guy MOVES IN to the back room and the owner tells me he's the new boss.

Ok fine, I think. Am I fired then? He says no, the new guy needs us four to stay on and show him how to run the business. I keep working my shifts that week like usual and show the new guy how the store works. The next week the owner texts us to let us know the new guy decided he wanted to get rid of everyone and hire new staff. I actually argue with him about this because I asked MULTIPLE TIMES if he was selling, and if I was out of a job, AND HE KEPT SAYING NO. Now if he fires me with no warning I'm fucked. He actually agrees that we can keep working our normal hours for another month, THEN we're getting laid off. Ok that's still some bullshit, but it gives me time to find something else.

I guess the new guy was upset that he didn't get to get rid of us right away like he wanted, so he doesn't even speak to me when I'm there working. I show up to open the store at 7am and stay there till 3 when he takes over. He doesn't even get out of bed most days until noon (I know because I can hear when his alarm goes off). So I get used to him not speaking to me. I also get used to him going outside and hiding behind our dumpster to smoke weed.

One day, just 20 minutes before my shift is over, he strolls right by me without saying a word, as usual, and I see on the camera that he goes behind the dumpster. I figure he's smoking weed and forget about him because I'm busy with customers. 20 minutes later I look on the camera and can't see him, but his car is still there. So I shoot him a text saying I'm going home and leave.

Not 5 minutes later, before I've even got home, my phone starts ringing. I ignore it thinking I'll call whoever it is back when I get home, but they call again. And again. And again. And again. So I pull over and answer and it's the owner SCREAMING AT ME that I left the store unlocked. I told him the new guy was there, and he said no, he got someone to pick him up and went to Malwart. I say ok, I'm still close I'll drive back down there and lock it, he yells NO YOU'RE FIRED and just keeps screaming and screaming and screaming- so I blocked him.

Went down there the next day to grab some cleaning supplies and toilet paper I bought for the store and dropped my keys off. Fuck that place, it is not MY FAULT his new favorite employee forgot when his shift started and left without telling anyone.

Also, the 4 people besides the owner who worked there were 3 women and 1 man. I later heard this new guy fired the other 2 women and ended up keeping the 1 man, who was by far the WORST of us. He never did any cleaning or stocking, and I've had customers tell me he sits in his car with the door locked for hours at a time. They're gonna run that business into the ground for sure.

Posted by admin Rodney

[the-offside-rule]

Trent Alexander Arnold (Liverpool) - Jolly

Day 11 of Christmas

Trent had walked down the stairs with his training back and kitted out in his usual Liverpool attire. He chucked his training bag at the door and walked towards the kitchen to see his girlfriend and her younger half brother Charlie. Charlie's parents both worked early hours and very rarely could bring Charlie to school so Y/n took it among herself to bring the youngest of her family to school instead. And so, every morning at half past six, the doorbell would go off and Y/n's stepdad would drop off Charlie and head to work. It didn't bother either of them much, but their favourite hobby was the Elf on the Shelf and making him do all kinds of mischievous stuff whilst Charlie wasn't there.

Trent walked into the kitchen and looked around confused. No one was there except Charlie eating his toast with a cup of tea in his Liverpool mug. "Well Charlie, how's it going?" Trent asked as he walked past the kid and patted his head. “Uncle Trent, how's it going?” Charlie asked as he stared at his Elf at the table. “Everything's fine. Why?” Trent asked walking over to the teapot. "This stupid Elf." He replied. "He won't stop fucking moving."

"I don't think your sister would appreciate you cursing now, or your mum." Trent said as he poured himself a cup of tea. "I don't care. I don't like this Elf." He mumbled. "What'd he even do?" Trent asked. "Oh my god, he did so much bad stuff!" Y/n's brother began. "He unrolled like five rolls of toilet roll last night, and then he went and broke my favourite lego set! I might have to rebuild it before I go back to mum after school." Charlie sighed. "Where's your sister?" Trent asked. "She's just doing some washing. Then we're going to school." Charlie replied. "Yeah sound."

Y/n had such a long day at work that she simply just fell asleep as soon as she dropped onto her bed and by the time she woke up again, the curtains were closed and she was tucked in. Trent must've come home. She got out of bed and walked downstairs seeing the living room light on. She peeked in and spotted Trent putting plastic pieces of lego onto what looked like a mini Annfield. "Hi?" Trent looked up and smiled. "Well, missus. I've some dinner ready for you whenever you want it." Trent said. "What are you doing up so late?" Y/n asked as she looked around the living room and spotted her boyfriend scanning through instructions. "Just helping Jolly with a lego set." Trent replied. She looked confused. "Jolly? As in Charlie's Elf?" Trent nodded. "Yeah, he broke one today so I helped him rebuild Charlie's one and I'm making him make one for tomorrow."

"You know how my mum feels about gifts before Christmas." Y/n said. "Yeah, but it's fun. And it was kinda my idea to break the lego set last night." Y/n nodded. "I'll write a little letter or something to go it with." Y/n said as she sat down beside him and pulled out a piece of paper. She began writing as Trent sat quietly mumbling to himself. "I don't have this piece." Trent muttered. "It's in the wrong place." Y/n said picking it off the tray and placing it where it was meant to go. Trent simply looked back at his girlfriend and an idea sprung to mind. "Do you wanna just help me with it so we can both go to bed?" Y/n and Trent stayed up for another hour finishing the set before they placed both lego sets on the table with Jolly and his note and headed to bed, only imagining what Charlie was going to say.

The morning after, Y/n had to call into work earlier which meant this was the first time Trent was in charge of morning duty. He eagerly anticipated the doorbell ringing and when he did, he practically opened it immediately. Trent greeted Charlie's dad before letting Charlie in and getting started eith his morning. "How are you today, boss?" Trent asked, taking Charlie's backpack off him. "Pretty good, Trentski. I-" He gasped as he saw the kitchen table. His broken lego set now fixed and a brand new Anfield lego set. "Oh my god! This is unreal!" Charlie squealed as he ran up to it. It was only when he got closer he spotted his Elf with a little note. He opened it and began reading the scribbly writing.

I wanted to say sorry for accidentally breaking your lego yesterday, so I fixed your one and asked Santa to bring you Anfield to say sorry!

Jolly

"This is sick!" Charlie laughed. "Yeah? Didn't even see it. Must have been magic." Trent said as he plated up breakfast. "Is toast, eggs and bacon alright for you, lad?" Trent asked. "Yeah course." Charlie replied. "Are you dropping me off today? Dad said you were." Charlie asked. "I am indeed, boss. Y/n had to go to work early today." Trent explained. "I don't mind. My friends all wonder what car you drive." Trent chuckled. "Range Rover Sport, but they'll see it today anyway." Trent said as he placed the breakfast and a smaller cup of tea in front of Charlie. "Thanks, Uncle Trent." He didn't know what it was, but he felt his heart strings being played. Maybe it was the fact Charlie had called him Uncle. "No bother, lad."

[kangals]

Kep report card for month 5! I can’t believe he’s already been here for that long that is insane to me. he’s a fetus.

food (drive, appetite, sensitivity): 🟢  only food he won’t eat so far is pickles

leash walking: 🟡/🟢 a little bit pull-y especially on walks with both dogs, he does chill out eventually after enough reminders. just one of those things that need to be worked on regularly while he grows.

sleeping: 🟢 - sleeps great overnight and during work hours. is a maniac from 5-10pm, but i'll take that tbh.

crating: 🟢 - i think we've conquered the crate issues! been using it a lot with the hot weather and when i check on him he's not always sleeping soundly but if he is awake he's not panting or barking or seeming stressed, just a bit bored. he's not ever going to be a dog that voluntarily naps in a crate, but he doesn't tantrum and that's all i need,

potty training: 🟢/🟡 tentatively - tentatively - i think he's doing really well. hasn't had an accident indoors in over a month. i'm not willing to call him fully housebroken just yet, but if he goes another month without accidents i think we can!

general training: 🟢 clever boy, starting a new class this week too

manners: 🟡 jumps on people and steals things (his bloodlust for toilet paper is staggering), but nothing unmanageable

grooming: 🟢/🟡 pretty good, still wiggly about brushing but i'll wear him down eventually

cars: 🟢 /🟡 good at riding in the car, but has started the annoying habit of barking at ppl/dogs that walk past the car which i hate and we're working on.

outings/socialization: 🟢 havent been able to do much with the heat, but likes adventures. did great overnight at my parents' house!

other dogs: 🟢 really good, he's a doofy puppy but he's good at taking corrections without taking offense.

other people: 🟢 FRIEND. FRIEND KEPPY.

small animals: 🟢 /🟡 i hesitate to give him a yellow here, he's really good with cats, but he's becoming a bit obsessive about chasing squirrels/rabbits/birds a bit lately. i don't think its problematic, assuming it doesnt escalate.

puberty: 🟢 he's not really showing any bad behaviors yet, only thing i can see is that he pees 5-6 times on walks instead of just once. has lifted his leg like twice.

no reds this month! he really does have a great personality, he's a nice mix of active and smart + easy companion. which is how a collie should be! it helps that he's not nearly as vocal or independent as stellina was at this age, even if he is a bit more opinionated in other ways. he's either going to be a super good dog forever, or adolesence is going to hit him like a freight train at some point, idk. we'll see!

[janedoeswriting]

The Way The Wind Blows (Stiles x OC) Chapter Six

Description: Rhiannon finds herself trapped within her guilty pleasure tv show— Teen Wolf. Now, she must choose which path to take… one that leads back home, and another that follows uncertain adventure.

Tags: extreme slow burn, frienemies to lovers, fix it fic, canon change, actions have consequences.

TW: angst, fluff, sexual harassment, anxiety, depression, obsession, domestic violence, manipulation, etc. Just please do not read if you are sensitive to difficult subjects.

(Hotel California by Eagles) **Note: I mean, duh.

It kind of felt foolish that they were on a bus going to a cross country meet. Stiles was restless. Between the tension of what had happened the night prior and everything that was going on, Stiles knew that they could be doing more productive things. For example: mourning the death of Derek. Another example: tracking down the Darach that has sacrificed a whopping six people so far.

Another example nagged at the back of Stiles' mind, but he didn't want to think about it. Rhiannon had already been plaguing his mind for nine days. Since she disappeared, he'd both discovered the root of the enemy- being a dark druid- and spent an inordinate amount of time trying anything he could to investigate her disappearance.

His father was doing the same-- working hours longer than Stiles had ever seen his father undertake.

Last night both Scott and Derek's pack had attempted to battle Deucalion and the alphas. It wasn't successful, and the remnant tension of it lingered in the bus like a rotting stench with no source.

Quizzing Scott on vocabulary was at least a welcome distraction to keep his mind off of everything that had occured. It almost worked.

"Okay next word-- incongruous." Stiles said.

"Um.. Can you use it in a sentence?" Scott asked. Stiles knew better than anything that Scott's mind had been just as equally distracted. This was a poor attempt as satiating the pain that persisted. "Yes-Yes I can. It's completely incongruous that we're sitting on a bus right now on our way to some stupid cross country meet after what just happened. Incongruous."

Scott sighed deeply. "Out of place. Ridiculous. Absurd."

"Perfect. Okay next word, umm...," Stiles couldn't keep his anxiety to speak about it suppressed any longer. "Darach. Darach, it's a noun."

Scott gave him a look.

"We have to talk about it sometime, okay? And we're gonna be stuck in this thing for like five hours so why not?"

Scott closed his eyes and leaned against the window. Stiles looked at him incredulously, but he knew he was getting nowhere so he turned back to the tablet and cleared his throat. "Alright, next word..."

--

After the crime, Rhiannon drove for a couple hours before it set in that she had to stop somewhere as soon as she could. Not only was she running low on gas, but she couldn't very well be seen in public covered in crusty dried blood.

She pulled over twice before she finally found an abandoned gas station. Both of the previous ones either had bathrooms inside or someone pumping gas. Thankfully, this one was not only virtually abandoned, but the bathroom was both on the outside and unlocked.

It took her about forty minutes to quickly scrub herself clean. She had grabbed a change of Austin's clothes that she'd found in his duffle bag in the back seat. She used the hand soap in the bathroom to wash her hair in the sink, and cleaned the rest of her body with paper towels. She scrubbed at her hands vigorously until they were raw and nothing was caked under her fingernails any longer.

She finally used the toilet and left for the truck, wet paper towels in hand. She used these to wipe any dried blood off the door handle and steering wheel. Finally, she tossed out her bloody clothes and paper towels into the garbage can and pulled up to the pump.

She found Austin's credit card and held her breath as she swiped. It worked, and she quickly shoved the diesel pump into the tank. She leaned against the car, running her hands through her wet hair and sighing.

She couldn't risk being spotted, but she was starving. If she didn't get food now in this abandoned gas station, then she would have to stop when it was daylight out, which would be a horrible mistake.

Rhiannon sucked in a breath and made her decision. She would just have to keep her head down and hope she wasn't noticed. She grabbed the cowboy hat that was on the dashboard and plopped it on her head. She almost felt guilty for wearing a dead man's clothes. But the image of his milky white eyes and sharp eerie grin banished any sympathy she had for Austin at all. She walked into the gas station and the door binged at her entry.

It was illuminated in cool toned lights and all the fridges were lit up lining the wall. It was a tiny space, but jam packed with rows of items from top to bottom. A clerk was secluded behind a glass wall and mountains of tobacco products, scratch offs, and porno mags. It was an older women, aging poorly with greying hair. She was sitting down and looked ready to fall asleep. She didn't even so much as glance up at Rhiannon's entry. This was a promising sign. Rhiannon ducked her head and walked down the snack aisle. She grabbed bags of chips and candy and some water from within a refrigerator. Her hands were full, and she came up to the counter and quietly set it all down. The woman finally looked up at her. An ashtray full of cigarette buds sat next to her. Rhiannon longed for another cigarette-- she had chain smoked the entire pack of camels dry. But she had no ID and didn't want to risk it.

The clerk began to non ceremoniously scan the goods, but Rhiannon shifted under the weight of the woman's appraising gaze.

"You're not from here, are ya?" she asked. Her voice was weathered, like she had been yelling loudly earlier. Or smoking for thirty years. Rhiannon shook her head, pretending to be very interested in their selection of lighters. "You look... familiar." the woman said.

Rhiannon's stomach dropped, but she kept her composure. The woman finished bagging her things. Rhiannon shrugged, and dared to look into the woman's eyes not wanting to be too suspicious.

To Rhiannon's horror, a look of recognition settled on the woman's features. She went calm and numb in the face in a way that almost scared her as much as Austin's transformation into a monster had.

Her eyes widened and showed the entire whites of them. Rhiannon stepped back.

"You're hands... Your hands are red. Your face is red."

Rhiannon felt like the ground had moved under her feat. She knows. This woman knows what I did.

Rhiannon's fight or flight kicked in and she lunged for the plastic bag, ready to bolt out the door without paying.

The woman was too quick, and she grabbed her wrist-- the one that was already bruised and sore from when Austin had almost broken it. "You must return to Beacon Hills. You must find Scott McCall." There was no time for confusion, but the woman continued as Rhiannon fought hard to tug at her arm. "Rhiannon Watson. FIND SCOTT MCCALL."

The woman screamed this last statement, and Rhiannon did the only thing she could think of. She leaned down and bit the woman's hand as hard as she could. The woman finally let Rhiannon go, and she dashed out the door. The cowboy hat flew off her head in the process, and she barely had taken the gas pump out of the tank and left it abandoned on the ground before she got in her car and slammed the door. She tossed the bag of food into the passenger seat and struggled to put the keys into the ignition.

Just then, a gut-wrenching ear-splitting scream like nothing she had ever heard before erupted into the air. Rhiannon dropped the keys and held her ears, squeezing her eyes shut and crouching down. Rhiannon thought it was a gunshot momentarily, but when she sat up to look outside she found the entire gas station windows had shattered. By some miracle, the car windows remained in tact. Rhiannon grabbed the keys, and this time she started the car swiftly and peeled out of the gas station back onto the highway as fast as she could.

Rhiannon didn't stop shaking or driving twenty over the speed limit for another half hour. Finally, as the ringing in her ears began to subside, she slowed her pace and took several calming breaths. Her mind was reeling, and she looked at herself in the rear view mirror. She looked shell shocked- which is exactly how she felt- and her ears had a line of blood trailing out of them and down her neck. Rhiannon grabbed a dirty sock from the backseat and quickly wiped the blood away. The woman's words rang in her ears still. Eventually, she pulled over at an exit and closed her eyes, resting her forehead on the steering wheel with her eyes squeezed shut. Find Scott McCall. So that was it. The warning of a banshee. The scream of death.

She grabbed the road map from within the glove compartment, longing for her cell phone. It was confusing and difficult to drive without GPS. She traced the lines on the map using an old red pen. The ink led straight back in the opposite direction and ended right on a dot labeled 'Beacon Hills'.

Fuck.

--

Stiles was pretty proud of himself for his ingenious idea of getting Jared to vomit. His plan had worked-- they had no choice but to pull over at the rest stop.

But the state of Scott certainly didn't allow him any time for pride. His worry grew with every moan that Scott uttered. He and Allison carried him over their shoulders into the men's restroom as quickly as they could with Lydia closely following to try and block anyone from seeing them.

Rhiannon groaned. The uncomfortable sensation of light in her eyes ushered her to consciousness.

Sleeping in the truck wasn't ideal, but it certainly was better than being found as a missing person. She had driven all night, and found a secluded truck stop to park in and sleep. Thankfully, no cops or suspicious people had been there when she arrived in the wee hours of the morning. She had made it back into California, but was still a good ways from Beacon Hills. She had only gotten about four hours of sleep, she realized, as she checked Austin's watch that read 12:15.

It was noon, and trying to sleep during the day and drive at night wasn't working.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes and groaning. Her hair was a mess and she felt like she'd slept on a pile of rocks. Her muscles were sore from both taking down a monster multiple times stronger than her and from sleeping in the car. Her morning breath was awful after all of yesterday's cigarettes and downing a bag of potato chips. She grimaced as her eyes adjusted to the California sun.

People swarmed the parking lot, and it was full of cars and trucks. She was all of a sudden much more awake, and ducked down, hoping nobody saw her. She was still a missing person, and in a stolen truck. And had killed a person-- who knew how long it would take for that murder to be traced back to her.

A big yellow school bus caught her eye as she peeked up just enough to observe the grotesque amount of people. A school bus?, she thought in confusion.

To her utter horror, students filed out in throngs coughing and waving their hands over their faces in clear disgust. A man was screaming out the window. Beacon Hills High School was stamped on the side of it. Rhiannon sucked in a short breath and ducked, pressing her back against the door as she crouched on the cramped floor. Fuck fuck fuck.

Rhiannon dared to steal another peek.

Her eyes searched the crowd of people. Rhiannon's stomach did another flip. There, Allison and Stiles held up a very horrible looking Scott McCall as Lydia looked around trying to block him from anyone's view. Rhiannon ducked down again. Find Scott McCall.

Fuck. She didn't want to find him so fast. She thought back to what episode this was. A school bus at a truck stop. Scott was dying. Derek "died". They were going to a haunted motel. Fuck. Rhiannon did a double take as she caught sight of a police officer on the other side of the truck. He hadn't caught sight of her yet, but he was patrolling around with a scrutinous gaze.

Rhiannon cursed, reached over to grab her bag-- the only evidence she had been in this truck (other than her fingerprints everywhere), and opened the drivers side door behind her to slip out as discreetly as possible. She blended in with the crowd of teenagers well, but was still getting strange looks from other students.

Thankfully-- none of them recognized her because she hadn't attended school. Still, her face was plastered on the news and it wouldn't be long before a stray student connected some dots. She ducked into the girls bathroom and found the handicapped stall.

Her appearance was horrible. She looked pale, and run down. Her hair was a mess, and purple circles hung under her bloodshot eyes. She quickly ran her hands through the tangles and made herself look somewhat better. She grabbed her toothbrush and ran it over her teeth and tongue without any toothpaste, and then begrudgingly took some gulps of water from the sink. It tasted like mold and metal, but Rhiannon swallowed it anyway.

Finally, she stepped out of the stall. A crowd of girls swarmed the sink mirrors and a que was forming for the bathroom. She ducked out with her head down and hands clutching her bag. She walked past students lingering around. A group of boys passed by muttering, and she caught someone saying "Closed for cleaning?" and another complaining about walking to the other side of the building to use the other bathroom.

Rhiannon hesitated, and then sighed and chucked her bag into the bottom of an outdoor trash can. It wasn't exactly ideal, but she didn't want to look like a run away when she ran into Stiles again-- not if she wanted to keep her place as Mr. Stilinski's foster daughter. And if a banshee had warned her to keep close to Scott McCall, staying at the Stilinski's was her best bet.

She approached the men's bathroom with a deep breath. The door was locked. She banged on it. "Closed for cleaning!" A voice shouted on the other side. It was clearly Lydia. Rhiannon banged again, harder. "We're closed!" Another voice sounded very loudly and angrily. Stiles. "Go. Away!"

Rhiannon sucked in a breath and despite her hammering heart, she banged again, harder and longer. She didn't stop until the door swung open violently.

"Go to-," Stiles began with a very harsh tone, but immediately caught in his throat at the sight of her. She looked up at him with weary eyes, but didn't have time to stand around and let someone see them. She pushed her way in and shut and locked the door behind her.

When she turned back, Lydia and Scott were gaping at her. Allison would have stared in shock too if Scott didn't grunt, and she turned back to him with a worry-struck expression.

Rhiannon didn't know how to approach this situation other than,

"Hi."

"Rhiannon?" Stiles asked, and something of relief and confusion both combined in his voice.

"Stiles." She said, but stepped by him to where Scott and Allison were crouching on the floor. "How is he?" she asked, lifting the shirt. The sight was putrid and disgusting. The jagged wound was growing blacker by the second and oozing with blood.

Rhiannon couldn't face Stiles, but she could do this.

"Rhiannon." Stiles said, more firmly this time as if he was realizing something. Rhiannon ignored him.

"Allison, grab some needle and thread. You need to stitch him up."

"What?!" Allison demanded. "You need to stitch him up. He isn't in his right mind. If he thinks he's healing, he will." She said, meeting Allison's gaze. They hadn't even properly introduced themselves, and Rhiannon was reaching for their trust. Willing it into reality.

"Trust me." she demanded. Allison stood, and moved to her bag. Rhiannon looked back up at Stiles, who was staring at her like a ghost.

"Get another shirt from Scott's bag."

Stiles didn't move, just stared. "What are you-?"

"Do it!" Rhiannon demanded. "Stiles, I'll explain everything later. Just go."

Rhiannon turned to Lydia. "Make sure the bus doesn't leave."

Lydia was appraising her in a similar way that Stiles was, but she didn't hesitate like he did. She grabbed Stiles' arm and dragged him out the door. Rhiannon walked up and locked it again as Allison used a lighter to sterelize the needle.

"How did you- How do you know what's wrong with him?" Allison asked, taking the thread and crouching down to Scott. Rhiannon shook her head, but said, "I can't explain how, I just do."

This seemed to be enough for Allison. She begged Scott to stay awake for a moment even when he complained he was tired. Rhiannon heard the fear in her shaky voice. She took the thread and attempted to push it through the eye of the needle. Her hands were shaking profusely, and Scott's groans and nodding head weren't helping. He was dying by the second.

"Come on." Allison begged, but it wasn't working. She couldn't do it. Allison squeezed her eyes shut. It dawned on Rhiannon what she was going through. "Your mom isn't here." Rhiannon said gently. Allison looked at her in shock as tears ran down her face. "Your mom isn't here. Take a deep breath." Rhiannon said, and Allison did so, desperately clinging to Rhiannon's calming voice. "You can do it, Allison." Allison turned back, taking another deep breath, and focused. A moment later, it was done. She desperately began to stitch him up and reminded Scott to stay awake.

Just as Scott was nodding to sleep, Rhiannon said his name. "Scott, stay awake."

And he did. Allison finished up the stitching, and Scott came too. "It's my fault." he said. Allison breathed a sigh of relief and clung onto those eyes that were growing more lively by the second. The wound was stitched up expertly, and Scott looked down at it. "Did you do that?" he asked Allison. She was the only person in the world to him in that moment.

Rhiannon stepped back, letting them have their moment. Stiles banged on the door, and Rhiannon wrenched it open as he rushed in with Scott's bag and a shirt in hand. He brushed by her, but Rhiannon saw him meet her eyes and he seemed struck again by the reality. She was there. She was really there.

He handed the shirt to Allison, who immediately helped him dress and stand. Stiles dropped Scott's bag and turned back to Rhiannon.

His eyes said everything. Explain. Now. Rhiannon sucked in a breath and said, "I'll explain everything in a minute, but right now I have to-," she started with Stiles fast on her heels as she left the bathroom and then stopped in her tracks. The cop had brought a friend, and now they were inspecting the empty red truck together. Fuck. Stiles grabbed her arm and turned her to face him. "No, explain now."

Rhiannon glanced at the bus, where Lydia was desperately trying to convince Coach to keep the bus there just a few minutes longer. Rhiannon looked back to Stiles, grabbing his hand and removing it from her arm. "Fine. On the bus." Rhiannon said, and turned to help Allison carry Scott. Scott did a double take, and looked at her in dizzy surprise. He looked infinitely better than he had just moments ago.

"Rhi?" He asked as they made their way there. "Nice to see you, too." she said back.

--

"So your telling me you got kidnapped, escaped, stole his truck, and just happened to see us at this random rest stop on the side of the road?" Stiles asked on the bus. Rhiannon was actually glad they were in a public setting where Stiles had to keep his voice down, so he wouldn't yell at her.

Rhiannon nodded. Stiles was fully turned toward her, but Rhiannon faced forward in the seat next to him. Lydia was in the seat in front and looking back, listening to the story with just as much skepticism that Stiles had. Allison sat behind them, but she was too worried about Scott's dozing figure to pay them any mind at all.

Rhiannon didn't want to say it, but she didn't exactly have a choice. She had made the decision on the way back to Beacon Hills. "It was a wendigo."

Both Lydia and Stiles sat up a bit more, their attention sharpening. She glanced at Stiles, and then to Lydia. "He tried to eat me."

Lydia blinked at her, and Stiles' mouth hung open.

"A what?"

"Whats a wendigo?" Lydia bit out the question like Rhi had just walked out of crazy town. It didn't seem Lydia was warming up to Rhiannon well, and it made sense. They had only very briefly met, and all of a sudden Rhiannon showed up after nine days missing acting like she ran the place.

"It's a supernatural creature that feeds on human flesh." They both stared at her. "Like you actually believe that werewolves are the only supernatural beings that exist. Is Jackson being a giant lizard not enough to buy that wendigos are real?"

"How do you know about Jackson?" Lydia bit out sharply in a low whisper. Rhiannon looked her in the eye and could feel Stiles' stare burning into her. "Listen-- I know things. I know probably more than you know-," This was so true it was unbearable, but she continued. "I know you've been hearing strange voices. Finding bodies."

This shut Lydia up. Stiles grabbed Rhiannon's arm, but she didn't look at him. "How do you know that?" Stiles asked, a burning in his voice.

She glanced at him, looked down at her hands, and then back to Lydia. She had factored in the repercussions of what she was about to do over and over in her mind on the drive there. But she had already decided to do it, and there was no going back now.

Not after they knew that she knew about the supernatural, and everything that had happened the past few days.

"I don't know how I know things--... I just- I just do."

"Oh thats helpful. How are we supposed to belive you?" Lydia asked, and it was true. "You don't have to. I'm not asking you to."

"Oh, so we're just supposed to go along believe you aren't the- .. the Darach?" Stiles said it like he was both trying not to believe it but also like he had no other choice than to think it was Rhiannon.

Finally, she met his eyes. "If you don't trust me, fine. I wouldn't trust me either. Lock me up, then. Watch me. Next time a person is sacrificed, you can blame yourself for not letting me help you."

Stiles sucked in a breath at this and let go of her arm, which he hadn't realized he was still holding. Rhiannon turned back to Lydia. "The only reason I'm here is because I ran into one of your kind, Lydia."

There was a short moment of horrified silence. "One of my kind?! I'm not--," Lydia started incredulously. The look Rhiannon gave her cut her short. "You're smarter than that, Lydia. You know you aren't human. Not really."

Lydia sucked in a sharp breath, as if she had received terrible news. Which, Rhiannon supposed, she had. She wasn't human, and that must have been a shock to hear.

"Listen-- I don't-.. I'm not sure of what I know. I do know things. From the past. And things that may happen. But it's all like a blurry memory. Like a book I read once that I know the plot of, but can't remember the details. Some things come to me, and some don't. I'm not saying I know what I am, or if I can even tell you how to stop the Darach. All I know is that I can help you."

They sat in a heavy silence for a long time as they took in the information. Something had shifted in Stiles. He felt betrayed. How could she go missing for nine days, with himself and worse his father at fault? How could she just come back and know how to help Scott, know what Lydia was, and still expect them to trust her? He didn't. He didn't trust her, and that was all he knew. She was a liar, and something was off. "What..." Lydia said, and couldn't get the words out. Rhiannon put her hand on the seat in front of her and met the teenage girl's eyes. "You're a banshee, Lydia. You predict death."

--

There was a distinct feeling of being unwanted. The sun was setting slowly, and after Rhiannon had broken the news to Lydia nobody seemed to want to interrogate her anymore. She could feel that Stiles and Lydia both wanted nothing to do with her. She took her hint, and quickly made her way to the only empty bus seat. It was fine. She didn't need to be their friend. It had felt good to help them, though. To help Scott. To tell Lydia the truth. That feeling had been squashed by the mood that weighed on her. She knew they didn't trust, or like her. Maybe she had screwed up by telling them. Then again she didn't exactly have a choice. This stupid bus was her only way back to Beacon Hills. That is, if she made it in one piece.

Rhiannon thought about everything that had happened while she stared out the window. How she had ran into two different supernatural creatures in her attempt to escape Beacon Hills. She morbidly thought that maybe she was the beacon now. A horrific voice in the back of her head said, Maybe you are. You traveled through worlds. Who knows what sort of things you've changed just by being here?

This excruciating time alone also gave her a moment to collect herself and decide what her next plan of action was. And to try and sort through her memories enough to try and know what was coming next. She knew they were going to that haunted motel. That Boyd would almost drown himself in the bath. Isaac would hide under the bed. Ethan tries to cut himself in half. And Scott would very nearly light himself on fire. Stiles had saved him, that time. Would she have to sit by and let him? What would be the best way to help them all without disrupting the timeline and causing some sort of change in plot? Did this mean she couldn't help them?

It all felt wrong and horrible. Watching a Tv show was one thing. But actually being there was different. The timeline was different in real life.

Rhiannon looked down at her hands. Despite the great plethora of distractions, she could still see it. The blood on them. The smell of it. The sound of gurgling. The fading of light. She shook her head as if this would help her banish her thoughts.

"Hey." A voice said. She jumped, and turned. It was Scott, she looked around to find the bus was already empty. How had that happened? "Scott. Sorry- I- I got distracted." she said. He smiled, his bag slumped over his shoulder. He looked perfectly healthy. And like he didn't hate her. Stiles must not have spoken to him yet. He nodded and she got up to follow.

"Ya know, you have some questions to answer." Scott said, and to her horror when they stepped off the bus Stiles, Lydia, and Allison were waiting and watching her. She tried not to grimace and lolled her head to the side as if she were gravely inconvenienced by this. Which she was. It would require more lying. "Fine." She marched forward through them, and Stiles did a double take and caught up to her.

"You can't just-- walk away." he demanded. Rhiannon looked to him with a raised brow as the rest began to follow. "I'm not? Unless you want to talk about werewolves in the open parking lot," Rhi turned to Scott. "What room?" she asked.

Stiles stopped walking while the rest continued. He threw his hands up in exasperation and ran to catch up.

--

Rhiannon had been struggling to start this conversation for the past five minutes. They all sat on the beds, watching her pace until Allison evidently became fed up and said, "Wellll..."

Rhiannon sighed and turned to them. "Okay. Here goes."

She knew she couldn't tell the full truth, but she'd planned for this.

"Derek isn't dead."

The room went silent and Scott leaned forward in surprise. Evidently he at least believe her. The sceptical looks on the rest of them were enough to tell her she had to prove herself.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I need to start from somewhere better," Rhiannon said.

"I know things. Things about you all that nobody else knows. I don't know everything, of course, but- I do know some things. Like, for example, Allison-- I know you're family makes silver bullets with your family crest inscribed in them. You made silver arrowheads instead." She said, gesturing to her. Allison was taken aback by this, and the rest turned to her in confusion. Allison nodded. Evidently nobody else knew this fact about her.

"And, Lydia. Your grandmother's nickname for you when you were little was Ariel." Lydia blinked in shock at Rhiannon. Stiles stood up, as if this was too much, but Rhiannon laid eyes on him next.

"You had a hallucination at Lydia's party last year. It was your dad." But that was all she said about it, not wanting to bring up painful details of that memory to the attention of the room.

Stiles stepped back, and fell on the bed staring at her in disbelief. Rhiannon turned to Scott, but he looked more surprised by anything.

"The night Peter bit you, you dropped your inhaler. You haven't needed it since."

Rhiannon let them all marinate in these tidbits of information that nobody else knew about them. These pieces of truth that she hoped would convince them to trust her. Of course, Stiles didn't. "And what, do you think this makes us think your not the Darach?!" He demanded, standing up again.

"Derek is alive. He went to Jennifer's house, and she helped stitch him up. He's gonna be okay--," she started, but didn't know what to say about Jennifer. Could she tell them? Would it be okay?

She let the silence marinate. "You don't have to believe me now. That's fine. But you do have to know that we aren't safe here. Lydia- you have a bad feeling right? One you can't explain?" Lydia looked to her like Rhiannon was speaking to the choir and she desperately needed help. Rhiannon nodded at her reassuringly. "You're right, Lydia. This place is dangerous. We have to get out."

"Am I the only one who thinks this is totally insane?" Stiles demanded. "You just appear out of nowhere, saying all this stuff after you conveniently arrived to town right before the killings, and we're supposed to believe you aren't the Darach?"

Rhiannon had to admit, he had a point. She tried not to let his cold attitude hurt her feelings. "Doesn't seem like you have much of a choice right now, given that every werewolf in this place- Scott included- are about to have suicide-inducing hallucinations."

"WHAt are you TALking about?!" Stiles demanded. Rhiannon threw her hands up and turned, not believing this. She was telling the truth but he didn't believe her, and she had no way to prove the truth. "Fine." She finally said, and sat in the chair in the corner, crossed her legs and arms.

"I'll wait."

"You'll what?!"

"I'll. Wait."

She glared at him, and he glared at her back until his frustration peaked and he gave a yell and stormed out of the room. Scott quickly followed. Rhiannon huffed and turned her head, glaring at the back of the TV. She felt eyes on her and awkwardly turned to Lydia and Allison's attentive gazes. Lydia was appraising her, and Allison was watching her like she didn't quite know wether to ask her more questions or run away.

"What is a- a banshee?" Lydia finally asked, clearly not able to hold in her frustration. Rhiannon looked at her and her stony expression softened in sympathy.

"It's not a bad thing Lydia. It might be scary sometimes, but you can use it for good. It means that you know things that others don't."

"Like you?" "No." Rhiannon said quickly. "No, not like me. Your's are... different. And you can change the things you find out. You predict death, but that doesn't mean you can't stop it."

Lydia took the information in and seemed to turn it over in her mind. "Your scream helps. Sometimes you might... have the urge to just scream out your frustration or all the noise in your head. It can be dangerous if you don't learn how to control your power."

"My power?" Lydia questioned. Allion touched her friends shoulder and smiled at her. "Don't worry, Lydia. We can look into it when we get back."

"Deaton will be able to help you." Rhiannon added. "Much more than I can."

Lydia stood and walked to the bathroom to take a moment to herself. To Rhiannon's surprise Allison spoke to her.

"You knew about my mother. That I-- That I see her sometimes."

Rhiannon nodded.

"You also knew how to help Scott." Allison added. Rhiannon sighed and leaned her elbows on her knees, wringing her hands.

"I want to help Scott. I want to help all of you. I don't know if I can. I don't think I was supposed to, but... I can't not help you. It wouldn't be right." Rhiannon confessed, and it felt so relieving to get those thoughts off her chest.

"I know it may not feel like it right now," Allison said, with a gentle smile and soft gaze, "but you did do the right thing." Rhiannon smiled at her but it was more grim. She hesitated for a moment, but said the words.

"I know who it is. The dark druid." Allison was taken aback, but her attention sharpened.

Lydia had appeared from the bathroom and stepped forward, also listening attentively. Rhiannon looked at both of them. "It's Jennifer Blake. Your english teacher. She's performing a ritual-- to make her powers stronger. She's manipulated the events of tonight to try and get rid of the werewolves. To get them out of her way so she could continue her plan."

"So far, she's sacrificed Virgins and Warriors. Next, she'll try and do Healers, then Philosophers, and finally Guardians. With every threefold death her powers get stronger. She'll eventually be strong enough."

"Strong enough to do what?" Allison asked urgently.

"To kill Deucalion, and the pack of Alphas."

"Well, who is it?!" Lydia demanded. "Whose the first healer?" Rhiannon put her head in her hands. "That's the thing-- I don't know. I've been trying to remember but, it's like I said earlier. I can't remember some of the small details."

"Small details? Someone is going to die!" Lydia exclaimed.

Rhiannon could help the glare that she shot her. "Isn't it kind of your job to find out who's going to die next?" Lydia withrew sharply at the blow.

"That's if you're right about me." She said, but the room was heavy with the truth. There was something strange about Lydia. About her ability to predict death. To hear voices and ghosts.

"You know I'm not wrong. And if my powers only extend so far, then your's can fill in the gaps." Rhiannon concluded. It was pretty easy to pretend like her memories of a tv show were actually powers of predicting the future and knowing the past. And maybe they kind of were. Maybe she was some supernatural creature-- one that could travers the multiverse.

Lydia lifted her hand and turned her head, her eyes going distant as if she were trying to listen to something.

"What?" Allison asked. "Shh." Lydia said quickly as she craned her head to listen. She slowly approached the air vent above the bed, and lifted her ear to listen.

Lydia stepped back in a rush, her hand to her mouth. She desperately turned to them. "Did you hear that?!" She looked deeply disturbed.

"Hear what?" Allison asked. "The two people in the other room. They shot each other!" Lydia said, panic thick in her voice as the led the way out of the room. The two other girls followed closely behind her.

When they burst into the room and turned on the lights, they discovered it was deeply underway of a total reconstruction. Tools, drop cloths, and lumber took up the space of the room. Rhiannon gritted her teeth, noticing the very saw that Ethan would later try to use to cut himself in half.

"We have to find Ethan. We have to find all of them." Rhiannon said. Her voice was growing thinner and wearier by the second, and Lydia's shock and fear was enough to cause Allison to adopt the same level of urgency. "Allison, what is your great uncle's name?

"Great uncle-... uhh Alexander?" She asked. Rhiannon nodded. "And do you know how he died?"

"I-I don't know. My dad never talked about it."

Rhiannon nodded and looked to Lydia.

"Lydia, you aren't wrong about what you just heard. Grab the bible in the side table," she said, gesturing to the drawer. Lydia did quickly but was visibly confused.

Rhiannon took it and quickly flipped the front cover till an article fell from the book. Rhiannon crouched and grabbed it, holding up the title. 'Couple commits double suicide at Motel Glen Capri'

They both inhaled sharply.

"This motel is haunted. Allison, your great uncle was bit by Deucalion. He came here and killed himself so he would never turn into a werewolf. This motel has been haunted ever since, and any werewolf that steps foot here is in danger of being next." Rhiannon explained.

It was a lot to take in, but to Allison's credit she processed the information quickly. And unlike the boys, Lydia and Allison seemed to trust what she was saying now.

"Scott's in danger, isn't he?" she asked.

Rhiannon nodded. "And so is Isaac and Boyd. And Ethan. We have to get them out of this place before it's too late."

Allison nodded, serious like she was on a mission. Rhiannon was struck with the thought-- How does she do it? She's so strong and level-headed. Lydia's panicked expression moreso matched how Rhiannon was feeling.

"Here is what I know: Boyd is going to try and drown himself in bathtub, using a safe to weigh his body down under the water. Ethan is going to come in here and try to use that saw," she pointed to it "to cut himself in half." The two girls made horrified faces, but Rhiannon continued hurriedly.

"Isaac is hiding under his bed having a panic attack. And Scott... he covers himself in gasoline and tried to light himself on fire. Stiles saves him. Actually, he saves everyone." Rhiannon looked down at the floor in shame. She shouldn't have fought with him earlier. She shouldn't have let Scott and Stiles get seperated from them.

"We have to find Scott." Allison said with combined worry and determination. Lydia nodded. "We can split up and try to help them." "They won't be in their right minds. Only heat will help them."

"Heat?" Lydia asked.

"Burning them snapped them out of it. Like pain is the only solution. There were flares...? I don't remember where you got them from, but they worked."

"The bus. It has emergency flares." Lydia said. Rhiannon nodded, and they met eyes. This was it. Where Rhiannon's memory failed, Lydia filled in the gaps. In that moment, Rhiannon felt a connection pass between them. A mutual understanding.

"I'll go find Scott and Stiles. Lydia, you go to the bus and get the flares. Rhiannon, find Ethan." Allison barked out orders military-style.

Rhiannon nodded and pulled the lighter from Autin's cigarettes out of her pocket. She felt quite lucky that she had kept it.

They all turned and began to walk out of the room and ran straight into Stiles.

"Stiles? What are you doing, where's Scott?" Allison demanded. Stiles read the fear and urgency radiating off of all three of the girls.

"In our room, why?" Lydia cut by him and ran for the bus.

"What's going on?!" Stiles demanded.

"Take me to your room, now." Allison said.

Stiles looked to Rhiannon in both question and anger. That was when it happened.

Ethan was quiet and distant when he approached them. He didn't say a word and his eyes were glassy. He was gone.

Rhiannon stepped forward, struggling to make the lighter catch flame. He shoved her to the side as she tried to block his entrance to the room. His strength was too powerful, and Rhiannon was thrown to the side so hard she caught air. Thankfully, Stiles caught her just in time. She grabbed onto him desperately but her lighter had flown out of her hand and into the parking lot.

Allison acted quickly and ran into the room after Ethan, and Rhiannon did the same as soon as she got her footing. The sound of a saw turning on. Rhiannon's heart leapt into her throat. Allison grabbed onto his arm, and Rhiannon ran forward to help. Thankfully, Stiles reacted quickly too and grabbed his other arm. "The heater!" Rhiannon exclaimed. Allison and Stiles didn't seem to need any further instruction.

They used all their strength to throw him into it. He landed harshly and exclaimed in pain as the smell of burning flesh wafted into the room. In the process, the saw was thrown to the floor along with Stiles. Rhiannon's body reacted before her mind could, and she grabbed his arm. His face came within inches of the saw. She used her body weight pulled him up. The saw came to a stop, and Stiles stared at it in disbelief, looking back up at Rhiannon, who still held him desperately.

They were all breathing heavily and Ethan staggered back. "What just happened?!" He demanded.

"Get back to your room and stay there." Allison demanded as Rhiannon helped Stiles to his feet. "What the fuck?!" Stiles demanded. He was breathing heavily and shaking. "They're hallucinating Stiles. They've been poisoned by wolfsbane-- all of them."

"We have to find Scott." Allison said, more urgently now. Stiles nodded, and looked to Rhiannon. "I'll go find Isaac and Boyd. What room are they in?" She asked.

Thankfully, Stiles told her.

As they ran out the door, Lydia had made it back with two flares in hand. Rhiannon grabbed one and so did Allison. "Come on," Rhiannon said, and Lydia followed her to Boyd and Isaac's room. Stiles and Allison ran the opposite direction to find Scott.

When they got there, the door was open. Boyd was standing in the bathroom, holding the safe and about to step into the bath. As Rhi ran, she ripped off the cap of the flare and struck it hard.

It lit on the first try, and she made to Boyd who had two feet in the bathtub. She used it like a weapon and pressed it into his side. The safe dropped with a loud THUD and he let out a roar of pain. When he turned, his eyes were aglow and canines sharp. He came to, and looked around in confusion.

"What's going on?" He demanded.

Rhiannon turned and handed Lydia the flare. "Under the bed," she inscructed and turned back to Boyd. He looked in better shape, and had stepped out of the water.

"Wolfsbane. You're gonna be okay."

A yelp sounded in the bedroom and they rushed out, finding Isaac standing up from the floor and Lydia crouching down, still holding the flare even though it had gone out. She looked to Rhiannon and Boyd.

"You okay?" Rhiannon asked Isaac. He eventually nodded, but looked shell-shocked.

"We have to find Scott." Lydia said, standing up.

The two boys followed them out as they rushed to Scott's room. When they burst inside, Rhiannon let out a breath of relief when she found Allison clutching Scott in her grasp as she held him. Stiles was holding a still-lit flare.

After a few moments of that sweet relief, Rhiannon turned and walked out of the room. She thought about how thankful she was that they had gotten there before he'd gotten his hands on any gasoline. About how all of them were safe, and okay. Stiles had followed her out without her even noticing. She could really go for a cigarette. He looked at her as she leaned against a pillar, calming her breaths. "You saved them." Stiles said. That was all he said. Rhiannon finally turned and looked at him. "I wouldn't have been able to without Lydia or Allison."

She looked to where Lydia stood watching her in the doorframe, and Isaac and Boyd who were both doing the same now. Rhi stood back up. "Come on, let's get your stuff. It's gonna be a long night's sleep on the bus."

--

Rhiannon hadn't been mentally prepared for Stiles grabbing her arm and pulling her to the side as they loaded up into the yellow school bus. But she didn't protest-- she was too worn out.

"My dad thinks you were kidnapped. So did I." he said.

Rhiannon shrugged, but knew this wouldn't be enough so she said, "I wasn't lying about the wendigo, if that's what you're asking."

"Did you run away?" He asked. There was hurt in his voice, and for the first time Rhiannon considered that Stiles might have blamed himself after she had disappeared. At the time, she had been so angry with him that it didn't matter.

She thought about telling him what she had planned to tell the police upon her return to Beacon Hills. The story she had rehearsed over and over in her mind.

She decided against it when she looked into those brown eyes.

"I- I thought that Beacon Hills was dangerous. And it is..." she said, before continuing. "I tried to get out. I didn't want to hurt your dad. Or you. I- I didn't really think about anyone but myself. I just didn't want to get caught up in all this supernatural business and get myself killed. But it seems like the supernatural business just followed me anyway. I ran into a woman after I escaped Austin-- the wendigo."

His eyes told her he needed an explanation. "I thought he was a regular person, but he, uh. He wasn't. And then I saw this woman. She told me--... she told me to come back to Beacon Hills. To find Scott McCall. I think... I think that's the only way I can stay alive in this world."

She looked up at him before he could get a word out and quickly said. "You can't tell your dad."

"I know," he started, but she interrupted.

"No, you can't tell him I ran away. I... I know it's a lot to ask. You already have to lie to him so much about all this." and she gestured around, referring to the supernatural world. "I know it isn't easy for you. But I don't want him to think I ran away because of him. He was good to me. He took me in without question when he didn't have to. I didn't want to leave, but I was scared of what would happen if I stayed. And it wasn't his fault, or yours."

He sucked in a breath, listening despite clearly wanting to say something. She continued. "I want to stay with you."

This statement was totally awkward, and Rhiannon quickly followed up. "I mean with your dad, and at your house. I think... I think I was supposed to. Like how I think I'm supposed to help you now. Like there's a reason I'm here."

"You can't lie to police. They'll know."

No they won't, I've done it before. But she didn't say this thought.

"I want to try. I'll come up with a story. I'll tell the FBI agents it isn't your dad's fault. That I want to stay. But I need you to help me."

She waited in anticipation. He eventually nodded slowly. "Fine. But only because you saved my friend's lives. And I'm still not buying that you aren't the Darach."

Rhiannon held up her hands. "I don't doubt it. I'll tell you everything I know." Not everything, but he doesn't have to know that.

Stiles sighed.

"By the way, the wolfsbane is in Coach's whistle. Next chance you get, get rid of it."

Stiles nodded begrudgingly, and they boarded the bus.

"So is anyone gonna tell us who that is?" Isaac asked, gesturing to Rhiannon.

--

When they got off the bus, the police were waiting. Rhiannon had told Stiles to call his dad and tell him that Stiles had found her. Upon sight of Mr. Stilinski, she was caught off guard by a hug. Mr. Stilinski grabbed her and his son and pulled them in tightly. Rhiannon hesitated, and then sunk into the embrace. It felt good to actually have someone who was happy and relieved to see her.

When they pulled apart, he inspected her. She must have looked as ragged and dirty and smelly as she felt because his face was etched with worry. He then turned to his son, holding his face and neck in one hand and clapping him on the shoulder in the other with a proud sort of smile that only a father could muster for his son. "Good job, son."

Stiles blushed and looked down bashfully. "I didn't mean to find her. I was on a cross country trip."

Rhiannon smiled and elbowed him in the side playfully. "He did though."

"Actually, we have a few questions about that." an FBI agent said, stepping in much less friendly than Mr. Stilinski had. Rhiannon nodded, expecting this. "You too," they added to Stiles, who had begun to step away. Rhiannon looked to Stiles and sent him a reassuring smile, and Stiles in turn nodded back. They'd discussed the plan on the ride there, and knew they would both have to answer questions. It took a couple hours of questioning. The entire time Rhiannon had demanded from both the agents and CPS that she stay under the care of the Sheriff, who she said was the most fit to protect her after the events of her 'kidnapping'.

She covered the events that had occured, continuing to stick as close to the truth as possible. She didn't disclose the gory details of her murder, or of her running away. She instead claimed he'd apprehended her in the street with a cloth to her mouth, and when she came to she was riding in a car, tied up and gagged. She described a story of how she escaped from the truck when they had pulled over off the highway.

"I ran through a ditch. I fell, but kept running. There wasn't anything around-- not even a gas station. I didn't know where I was. I kept screaming for help. I thought maybe there had to be someone around. But it was nighttime. He pulled around and cut me off with his truck. I tried to run around it but he grabbed me by the wrist."

She held the bruised and swollen wrist in her hand as she spoke. Everyone in the room was eating it up, looking at her with sympathetic eyes. Especially when she dipped into the memory of the real terror she had felt during Austin's attack. His bloodthirsty stare with those soulless empty eyes. The teeth dripping with drool. Head cocking to the side as he cornered his prey.

She let the feeling bubble to the surface, and didn't have to fake the terror that came with it. "He had a knife. I-I kneed him... between the legs. He let go of me so I grabbed his head and brought it down onto my other knee. He was on the ground. His face was bloody, and he dropped the knife. I grabbed it. He started to try and come up again so I- so I stabbed him... Right here," she pointed to the crook of the neck. It wasn't true, she had stabbed him through the neck, but the details didn't matter.

"I was bloody, but I ran to the truck. I was scared he would get back up again, so I drove off down the highway. In the opposite direction we came from. I didn't have a phone, or know where I was going. I was going to pull over, but I saw a sign that said Beacon Hills on it. I didn't know how far it would be. I ended up driving for a long time. I got tired, though. I almost fell asleep on the highway. I stopped at the next rest stop I could. There weren't any cars, and I was too scared to get out, so I fell asleep in the truck.

When I woke up, it was daytime. There was a school bus, and that's when I saw Stiles and Scott and their friends."

"Your friends didn't want to call the police?" One of them asked.

"I asked them not to. I wanted Stiles to call his dad. The rest of the police don't matter."

They all glanced at each other. She had said this last part with a bit of venom.

Sheriff Stilinski himself had been asked to sit this testimony out due to his interfering biases, but Rhiannon refused to speak unless he was in the room. He said, "Rhiannon, I know you've been through a lot, but if you're ever in trouble you should contact the authorities. They're here to help you."

"No, your here to help me. Stiles is here to help me. They just hold me in little rooms and ask me questions I've answered a million times. They treat me like I'm crazy."

Her adamant biases in favor of Sheriff Stilinski and his son were purposeful. They weren't necessarily false-- she did like them. But she needed to make it clear that she had no intention of cooperating if the sheriff wasn't involved.

She had to make it clear that the only person who could help her was Sheriff Stilinski.

It took hours. Stiles and Rhiannon were both kept separate. Stiles' questioning seemed to go well though, because at the end of the day Rhiannon had returned to the Stilinski household after a hospital visit and some strict lecturing from both CPS and the sheriff himself.

The FBI had immersed themselves in the new investigation of Austin. Rhiannon had both given falsified and biased information about him. They had found the truck, which matched her story. But she wanted their discoveries to end there. If his body was found... she wouldn't know what to do.

It was a long night, and when Rhiannon finally thought it was over she heard a knock at her door. She crept over and opened it an inch. Stiles stood there with pursed lips.

"What?" She asked.

"Let me in."

"That's inappropriate."

"You owe me an explanation if I just-," he harsly whispered, "lied to the FBI for you."

Rhiannon could see in his eyes that he wasn't backing down. She stepped aside and he shoved his way through, closing the door behind him very quietly.

"Didn't your dad tell you that you weren't allowed to come into my room?" She asked him.

"How do you know that?" He demanded.

"I didn't. But now I do."

He gave her an exasperated look but gestured his hands around for her to speak. He was so expressive that Rhiannon knew what he was thinking at just about all times. She sighed and sat on her bed. The comforter was fluffy, which she normally didn't like, but ever since she'd begun living there she had grown fond of it. Stiles stood, but she waited for him to finally sit on the bed next to her.

"Listen-- I don't know what I am. I don't know how I got here or what I'm doing here. All I know is I can help you and your pack."

Saying it felt silly, but he didn't cringe so she continued. "For example, I know who the Darach is."

He held on to her words. "It's your english teacher. Jennifer Blake."

He blinked at her and she spoke so he didn't have to. She told him everything that she'd told Lydia and Allison the night before. About the sacrifices, and how she didn't remember details. About Lydia's powers and how they could use them to try and find out who the next victim was.

"The veterinarian that Scott works for? Deaton. He's an emissary. Well Jennifer used to be an emissary too. For a different pack. The female alpha? The one with the claws and is always barefoot?"

Stiles nodded.

"Well, she didn't kill Jennifer. And after she survived, Jennifer decided to take it upon herself to get revenge on them. Deucalion in particular. With each trio of sacrifices, she gains different powers. And with the next round-- the healers? She'll gain that power. The power of accelerated healing. And when she finishes all of them, she'll be powerful enough to kill Deucalion."

Stiles processed the information and Rhi could almost hear the cogs turning in his mind. "We'll need to talk to Deaton. He'll know more about everything than I will. He'll be able to help Lydia hone her powers. Maybe he'll even know something about where I came from and what I am."

She said this last bit knowing that it was the partial truth. Of course, she wasn't a supernatural creature, but maybe he had heard of people traversing time and space.

Maybe he was the key to getting her back. The key was here in Beacon Hills all along. Stiles took in this information slowly. Which was funny to watch, because Rhiannon didn't even know Stiles could sit still for so long. Finally, he said, "Okay. Tomorrow, we'll talk to Deaton."

==

Notes: Thank you! I love seeing you guys interact with my posts. I'm glad she's back at Beacon Hills now. Six episodes into season three already. You guys are getting a little taste of the 'fix it' aspect of this fic. Rhi's got a lot of opportunities to change things, so I'm excited to pan that out. The gif at the top is how I imagine Rhiannon to look-- grey eyes and brunette hair. She's a model named Andreea Diaconu. Obv I've had her and others describe her looks to be insanely beautiful so it only makes sense she looks like a model.

PART SEVEN

[miscling]

💦(multiples of 💧)

And

🌻

one big glass of water all at once then? okay!

it knows no one asked for this, but for the 🌻 it's going to talk about this task, and diapers, specifically addressed to those who aren't into them.

so this task was originally to have a big drink and then not being allowed to use the bathroom for a while, as an omorashi game. it wasn't a hard game, unless it hadn't been to the bathroom in a while, but it was fun enough to play.

then eventually, diapers came along, and holding kinda went out the window as we got used to just peeing anytime, anywhere. and we talk about diapers on our blogs and folks occasionally say 'ew' and stuff, and put it on their limits list and expect us not to talk about it, calling them gross and unsanitary and all kinds of things that kinda, well it gets where they're coming from, but also, it feels a little like yucking its yum.

so here's a rebuttal: diapers are a sanitary product. allow this thing to demystify the process, because honestly, it thinks most folks have an ick about them, because they don't really know what's what with them.

used normally and with maintained hygiene, they keep that shit contained (pun intended). they exist to keep you sanitary. they're not gross or unsanitary by default, and neither are the people who wear them (either by choice through kink, or have to through disability). the padding soaks up wetting and keeps it from the skin until it is fun, and messes are a little harder to clean up, but not really any more gross than using a toilet. (and lets be clear, we're also glad for the folks who are having fun playing with them in unsanitary ways too, as this thing enjoys a little bit of that when its diaper is wet too, our point is that they're not automatically unsanitary!)

we have a routine that changes them before our diapers hit their limits and start getting gross. for wetting, we can wipe the area down with wet wipes, which are way nicer than toilet paper tbh. for messes, we break out the nitrile gloves and wet wipes, and we wipe until everything is clean. once everything is clean, there are creams in case there's any soreness from the diaper rubbing against skin or any nappy rash from wearing them a little longer than you should have, and then you get the next diaper in place and powder the area (not talc, if possible, cornstarch powders are better) before putting on the next diaper. the powder smells contained until the next change, where you do it all over again!

we love our diapers here. they're great, and we're tired of pretending they're not. there's cute designs if you enjoy that, you can get some that are very comfortable, and they're extremely convenient if you're prone to forgetting to go to the bathroom or have poor interoception. they're also way less time consumed in changing time compared to going up to the bathroom multiple times a day! (at least for itself, it has a pretty low bladder capacity tbh)

and it hasn't even talked about the kink potential here: the power and control and humiliation play you can do with them, but that's another post we think.

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

CW: pregnancy, addiction, break-up

2 weeks later...

I was on my way home. There was a kind of pumpkin- or autumn festival in the park, although it wasn't actually even really autumn? 🧐 Anyway! That's why I decided to go through the park today.

As I passed some autumn stands, I suddenly saw Daniel with a girl.😱 I quickly turned around/back, to hid somewhere on the side. Still, I risked another look because.... somehow I couldn’t believe it. But yea, there he was, with a girl!!😢 ... It hurt me sm to see him with her. I gotta get away, I thought!!! I felt really sick that moment.🤢 In RL, there was a Mc Donald's just a few steps away. So I rushed there to go to the toilet. But.... holly shit!! That damn Mc Donalds!!! I ran into a huge glass door!!! 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️😄I thought it was open. Yup! SOO embarrassing!! However, after I peed, I got back out. As I was walking out the door, Daniel was standing there. With lowered eyes, I tried to pass him unnoticed but....

Daniel: Hi!... What are you doing here? Are you alone?

Me: Don't you remember? Today is Tuesday! I just had class. I'm going home. 😞

Daniel: Yea... Did you see me earlier? I felt like I was being watched.

Me: YES! I saw you! That sucks, yk?😫 .... Ugh, I- I wasn’t prepared to see you.... here today with your new.... crush. How about you sign the divorce papers? 😒😢

Daniel: Sorry..... I'm on it. Ok?... I gotta go.

Me: Wait!

Daniel: You weep? 😕

Me: M-my hormones are... runnig wild. Yk?

Daniel: Are you... ok? You and, your baby?

Me: We're fine. Thanks.... But-... Daniel! I-... 😥

Daniel: What?

Me: I-... I wanna be with you.... I miss you. I-... I know it's not right, but-

Daniel: In all seriousness......... You gotta be kidding me? 🤨

Me: No, I don't! I love you. And I also miss Lucky. Pls take me to him.... Why did you hurt me so much? I wanted to stay with you. You promised to always stay by my side, didn't you? Instead, you broke up with me. That was the worst thing you did to me. I thought I was dying this summer.... Now you're with that...-

Daniel: It’s over! I don’t listen to this shit! You, know why I didn’t want you near me anymore.

Me: Tell me damn it!! What have I done to you??? 🤷‍♀️😧

Daniel: No! Listen! If you wanna see Lucky, we.... can find a solution. I moved. I'll call you.... Bye!

Me: You moved??????????? Noo, Daniel! What happened to our apartment? 😢Why didn't you tell me? I loved this place....

Daniel: I couldn’t stand it there! And all your stuff... Almost everything in our apartment reminded me of you. I couldn't handle it.... .. you........ completely destroyed me. 😞

Me: No, please don't go! I wanna go with you D.

Daniel: .... Damn.

Me: Why don’t you want me anymore? It's bcs I'm hooked??... We can stay clean together. 😢💔

Daniel: Go home to your-... to him. 😞😒

Me: But I love you both. We can still be together....

I talked so much crap. I really wanted to prevent Daniel from going back to that girl. I know that was totally selfish of me. But I didn’t give a shit! I just didn’t understand why he dumped me?? My pregnancy wasn’t a prob for him, so what did I do wrong?? And that girl who accompanied him, got me SO pissed! She was at Mc Donald’s too, but I didn’t see her there, when I went out. Anyway, she came back. She saw Daniel and me talking...

Girl: Hey, sweetie... Ahhm who is that?

Daniel: Yk? I still got some things to do. We should table this.

Girl: So now what?... Don't you want me?... This is your chance to get me....🤫 laid, baby. Now or never? 😏

Daniel: Well, that may be, but... anyway.

Girl: Huh? Where are you even looking? What's going on here? And who ist that fat girl?

Me: We are married! (dumb bitch) 🤨And I'm pregnant!

Daniel: Yea that's true, but it's not my baby!

Girl: I'm not stupid, sweetheart! I should have gone with your brother, but I thought you were the cute one. You with your green eyes and...hm? You have preety teeth, by the way.

Me: 🤢🙉

Daniel: Fine, just call Alex! I’m sure he can still.... schedule you somewhere in between. 😬

Girl: You’re serious, aren’t you?

Daniel: Listen, maybe later, ok? But, I gotta go now. Sorry.

Daniel just left. I have no idea where he was going or what he was up to? So I also went home, to..... Nico. 😬🤦‍♀️And tomorrow morning, I’ll go to Daniel. He texted me at 1:00 a.m. I couldn’t help it, I went to see him and I also wanted to see Lucky again. ❤️🐱

Previous/Next

[rudnitskaia]

Found this in my phone notes. I wrote this when I was in one of my darkest and lowest points. I remember how I barely could breathe because of sobs and my hands were shaking while I was typing, and how I completely broke when I couldn't write one simple word without mistakes several times in a row.

And then one of my friends suddenly sent me a meme with a funny cat and I laughed on it, continuing to cry.

Now I feel like I need to share what I wrote that day.

I hid that note, which seems much more like a short story now, under the cut. PLEASE don't read it if you're sensitive to such themes as su!/c!de and depression. Thank you.

If I had a guardian angel

Sometimes I think that if I had a guardian angel, it would have been an approximately 40-year-old extremely tired and very quiet man, who has constant lack of sleep, disheveled hair, an oversize coat with some missing buttons and one splintered shoe. He chose me once because he was an extremely gambling person and thought that he can "lead this horse to victory" (even her name means that, right?), but unfortunately I turned out to be "a limping mare", so he simply lost all his resources while making bets on me. He was furious at me at first and desperately tried to push me forward without any success, but after a while, after watching on how I live, he has grown to care for me and has willingly dropped his reserves of wishes and miracles enormously below zero, all useless spent in order to cheer me up. Now he is in huge debts, and every time I start to cry and think that I'm not worth living he only sighs and again borrows some tiny happy coincidence from more successful angels just to prevent my disastrous thoughts and make me live through another day. He sits next to me, glances at his splintered shoe, then pats the top of my head and smiles, when that happy coincidence brings me some funny picture or a small notification that distracts me from sadness for a short while. And he murmurs under his breath: "There, there, my little one, we're gonna get through this, you'll see. You'll see".

And that is all just because he, like all the guardian angels, committed a su!/c!de in his past and doesn't want me to also work as a guardian angel when I die. Because after living beside me for so long he is pretty sure that I would sleep over all my shifts and miss all my chances to gain redemption and after that I'll be sent straight to hell, and definitely not that luxury hell, where many intelligent poets, musicians and other cool people of the past are chilling, but into the huge bureaucracy department where all the papers must be filled manually, folded, stamped, sorted and so on, infinitely. And there would be slanted toilets and no coffee in the whole damned office. At all. Knowing me and my devotion to coffee, he simply can't let that happen, and so he doesn't sleep, soothing my bad dreams, and walks beside me to catch me on every stumble and fall.

And sighs.

And borrows.

And then smiles.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Happy Halloween! What are all the Wukongs and macaques being/ doing?

Happy halloween too! Sorry Im a little late!

If we're imagining Halloween is going down in one of the modern day verses, then you know theres gonna be a few very confused monkeys.

Either of the LMK SWKs & LEMs have to be the ones to explain why the city suddenly looks so... Underworld-esque to the ones from earlier eras. Peach & Dawn are transforming themselves so that they can go trick or treating with the kids, while Plum & Dusk are making late-minute costume changes and indulging in the vino and party foods.

Dasheng is confused, but ends up being dragged along (not very reluctantly) when the kids gets uber excited by the idea of candy and mischief. Luier steps out of the clothing room dressed as The Monkey King and Dasheng cries with pride/at the adorableness. Zhanshi gets really into dressing up for the holiday as well, and makes a very... distracting Morticia Addams. Lets just say it took the strength of multiple gods for Dasheng not to whisk his LEM away from prying eyes. Dasheng def demands a "dad tax" on any candy gathered.

Smokey equally has no idea whats going on, but is def enjoying the toilet paper graffiti and trickery. Probably convinces Xiao Qi and the rest of the kids to dress in identical costumes to freak people out. Liang already dresses like a mage, so he gets confused for being in costume as well. Liang was supposed to dicipline Smokey for directing the kiddos to scare others. But then the two adults end up collaborating on a "Karma Scare" after they get a house with extrememly rude drunk people inside. The Reborn! Pilgrims should have known that havoc was afoot when the fruitiedads asked them to take over chaperoning "just for a bit." >:)

Cherry and Olive are at a halloween fair just demolishing the different game stalls, bobbing for apples, getting freaked out in the scare house, and trying out the rides for the very first time. Both are so hyped up on adrenaline and sugar the whole night that they crash the second they get back to their own dimension.

Ace and Joker are inside multiple halloween parties, tearing up the dance floor and getting hammered. Ace is wearing his fancy mask and everything. Probably still partying past midnight before the other monkeys have to do post-holiday recon.

Shihou and Mihou hear "free sweets" and are immediately on board for trick-or-treating. It take them a minute to understand; "we gotta dress like... other things?" before they jump into the costume closet. Shihou decides that he wants to be Thor, cus he looks cool. Mihou panics at the amount of options available and decides to dress like cowgirl Barbie (cus pink is his fave colour). Many candies are had, though the two aren't actually sure what the "trick" part of "trick or treat" means, so at a few houses they ask specifically for "tricks" before the LMK kids explain it to them. They spend the later half of the night with the other verses kids eating candy and watching scary pg movies with MK as supervision.

Sugar and Spice are probably at the fairground too since it's easier for them to hide in a crowd. Sugar submits himself into a costume contest and gets 2nd place (he lost to a kid wearing another Monkey King costume). Spice gets a little overwhelmed after half an hour, so he and Sugar space out on a roof top the rest of the evening. They def have a pillowcase of modern candy they hide from the other pilgrims when they get back to their universe.

Lilac is trying to follow a multi-step halloween costume makeup tutorial, when Starfruit tries filming a prank video. Both acts are ruined when Starfruit tries scaring Lilac, sees the half-finished gory makeup, and gets so scared that he faints. Both spends the rest of the holiday watching tv with some takeout.

By the end of it, at least one monkey is in jail; Smokey and Liang for their super scare, or Ace and Joker for public intoxication, or Cherry and Olive for damaging public property at the fairgrounds ("Bumper cars got a bit out of hand"). The LMK monkeys + two of the Tripitakas had to bail them out.

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

Convience Store

This is a piece of an Mutant/Gifted AU based on a dream I had in which Logan and I were charged with keeping Patton safe from the group that was known for known kidnapping and experimenting on mutant. Logan had previously been held by this group as well and was rescued as a teenager.

Logan glanced up in the rearview mirror again and sighed, his brow furrowing as he adjusted his hold on the stirring wheel, taking note of the same black SUV that had been following behind them, never more than two cars behind them.

"I saw them too," Dana told him through their link, not wanting to alarm their ward.

"It's getting to be too long to be a coincidence. But I don't want them to know I've made them either."

"We don't really have a lot of good options right now, partner."

"No, we don't." Logan agreed and turned on his blinker to get off the freeway. "But we can at least get away from the high speed traffic."

Patton perked up as they slowed on the exit ramp. "Are we almost there already? I thought-"

"Hold on!" Logan sped through the yellow light and into a sharp left turn, keeping an eye on the SUV that had been following him as he did so.

Horns blared from behind them as their follower had to slam their brakes to avoid hitting another vehicle that had not been so eager to make the light.

Patton twisted in his seat to see what the commotion was about. "I guess that's a no?..." He asked as he turned back around.

"Just taking a little detour," Dana replied calmly and rested her hand on Logan's shoulder.

"Go ahead and update the twins that we'll be taking the alternate route," Logan said, his voice eerily flat. "And see if anyone near who can change vehicles with us. I'd rather be overly cautious than not enough."

"That car was following us, wasn't it?" Patton questioned, an edge of fear to his voice.

Logan glanced back into the the mirror, there was no sign of the SUV or one like it. "I don't know. But I'm going to act as if it were."

"There's a gas station a few miles away, they'll have a backup vehicle for us there," Dana announced and hung up with Remus. "He also said to let you know Virgil and Rose are doing just fine."

---

"Patton's in the bathroom. How ya doin', partner?" Dana asked quietly, resting a hand on Logan's back as he watched through the window as a Foundation agent moved from the vehicle he just pulled in with and into the one Logan had previously been driving.

"I'm fine." He nodded to the other man. "I'm fine, I just...I don't want to be right about that other vehicle following us. But at the same time...I don't want it to seem like I'm being paranoid."

Dana nodded. "I get that, but I think we're making the right move here. Better to be overly cautious than-"

The sound of shattering glass caused them to instinctively duck.

Logan grabbed their shoulder and began dragging them down toward the bathroom signs.

"What was that?"

"The agent that took our vehicle was hit," Logan replied. "We need to get Patton and get out." He shoved Dana into the bathroom with a low curse, just as the door burst in and black clad agents, guns held at the ready swarmed the place.

Patton dropped the paper towel he'd been drying his hands on in surprise. "What's going on?"

"We've got company," Logan answered and pressed his body against the door. "Is there anything-"

"Here!" Dana answered and began pushing boxes filled with paper towe and toilet paper toward him. "It's not much, but-"

"It'll have to do." He agreed and the pair made quick work of stacking them in front of the only door in the room.

Logan cast about the room for any other options, anything that might help them get out. His eyes snapped to Patton who screamed at the sound of shattering glass.

"You okay?" Dana asked him and knelt down to check if he was injured.

"I'm okay," he nodded.

Logan pulled a spare magazine from his pocket and reloaded his handgun. He knelt and held it out to Patton. "You remember how to use this?"

The teen's eyes went wide and he shook his head. "I can't-"

"The bullets are rubber, meant to incapacitate, not kill. Do you know how to use this?"

Patton nodded and gingerly took the weapon.

"It's just a precaution. Don't use it unless absolutely necessary. If anything you can hold onto it as a back up for Dana, alright?"

Patton nodded again and Logan patted his shoulder. "Get ready to run, okay?" He came to his feet and Dana followed suite.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I can distract them," Logan answered without looking up from checking over his backup weapon.

"Logan-"

"Dana, don't," he snapped and finally looked up at them. "I don't want to do this, but I can't let them take all of us. He's is our priority. He's who they're after and we don't have a lot of options. They want me more than they want you, I'm the better distraction. I will do my best to get away and get back to you, but right now this is our best shot. I can't let them have you. And I can't let them have us both because they will use you against me and I can't-" The words died in his throat with a frightened gasp.

Dana grabbed him by the neck and pressed their foreheads together.

"I'm scared," he whispered around the tightness in his throat, and gripped Dana's arm. "I don't wanna do this. I don't wanna go back. I'm scared."

"I'll come find you," Dana promised. "If you don't meet up with us, I'll come find you. I'm not losing you."

"We don't have a lot of time. We need to do this now." Logan stepped back and hauled Patton to his feet. "I'm going to open the door and lay down cover fire for you, both of you run as far and as fast as you can. Find a place to hide or blend in. I'll...do my best to meet up with you when I can."

"Just stay alive," Dana ordered firmly, giving Logan a pointed look. She took Patton by the hand and stood off to the side of the door. "Ready?"

Logan nodded and handed her the clip of live rounds he had taken from his gun before giving it to Patton. "Three, two,-"

Dana flicked her wrist throwing aside the barricade and Logan ripped open the door sending arcs of electricity out in a wide spread, stunning and dropping several of the agents in the room.

Dana and Patton ran.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"He knows what he's doing," Dana answered. "Keep running."

There were more of the black clad agents than Logan had been anticipating. Either they had called for backup or there were more following him than he'd noticed. At least he had the upper hand of being near the fuse box.

It did him less good than he'd hoped as the second wave of agents seemed to be wearing insulating gear. It was a terrifying realization, as he stunned another agent through the small gap in their gear. They'd been prepared for him specifically.

He stumbled back as an agent, broke through the barrier he'd been maintaining around himself and struck the top of his shoulder with a button.

He ducked under the second blow and tackled the man into a cluster of other agents.

They'd been after him as much as they had Patton.

It didn't matter, he tried to convince himself, as he was quickly swarmed and over taken. He'd survived this before and Dana was coming for him.

---

"Do we have any ideas on where they could have taken him?" Dana questioned.

"We have a few," Emile assured. "But we need to narrow it down before we can take any kind of action. Not to mention we're still recovering from their attack, which came a lot sooner than we were expecting. With that and what happened with you guys, we do have to consider-"

"I know."

"Nobody blames you, Dana."

"I know," she said again, more calmly this time. "I know, but you weren't with him, Emile. You didn't see how scared he was. I promised I'd go after him. I-" she cut off with a sigh. "I can't just leave him."

"We're not going to. It's just...going to take us some time to get another plan of action together."

"I need a favor in that plan."

"I've already got you covered. Elliot and I are coming to take over Patton for you, and Kai is going to meet up with the twins to bring Remus in so you two can be on the team to bring Logan home."

"You're a good big brother, you know that?"

"Yes, I do," Emile answered playfully. "I know you're not gonna be able to relax, but at least remember to eat and hydrate, okay? Backup in currently enroute."

[final-girl96]

Broken World: Chapter Eight

Month Later

I was getting ready to go into the city with Glenn, except this time we would be taking a group with us. Andrea, Morales, T-Dog, Jacquie, and unfortunately Merle. Daryl had decided to go out on a solo hunt yesterday and was still gone. Glenn had reluctantly agreed to take more people with us to try and get more stuff that the group needed. We were running low on food. Fortunately, we had an unlimited amount of water with the lake. We just needed to make sure we boiled it before using it. “Hey, is it okay if I come in?” Shane asked from outside my tent. “Yeah, I’m just getting my pack ready.” I looked up when he walked in. “What’s up?” I asked.

“I wanted to talk to you about Merle," he said. I stood up from my cot and swung my pack onto my back. "I'll keep an eye on him. I have my cuffs, so if I need to handcuff him somewhere until we're done, I will," I chuckled. He huffed out a laugh and nodded his head. "He needs to pull his weight around here since he didn't go out hunting with Daryl. He seems like he wants to be in charge, and the rest of the group won't be able to handle him if he decides to try and take over."

I completely understood what he meant. Merle liked to think he should be in charge of everything. He doesn't like how things are being run. I agreed to help Shane with keeping the group in order. I guess we were kind of the leaders of the group; the people who made the hard decisions. "Don't worry about Merle, I can handle him. I know how he thinks and what his telltale signs are when he's about to do something stupid."

After everyone was ready to go, we headed out. Since there were seven of us going and we didn't want to take a vehicle so we decided we would just walk; we were only a few miles outside of the city. It was still early in the morning, so as long as we got in and out with no problems, we should be back by dinner time. Glenn and I have been doing the run together and we haven't run into any problems, but with five other people with us, and one of those five being Merle Dixon, it might take longer than usual.

We were currently in a department store looking through everything. When the outbreak happened and when the city started to be overtaken by walkers after the military lost control and they bombed the place, people hid in the buildings to get away. Some people took refuge inside them instead of going to the FEMA shelters. So there was a good chance we would find cans of food and other useful things. It didn't hurt to check supply closets for toilet paper and clothes were always needed. It will be getting cold in another month or so.

"You hurt my baby brother when you left. I always told him you never cared about him." I let out a sigh and turned around to look at Merle. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Merle, so shut your trap and do something useful for once. You're in a group and that means you pull your weight or you get kicked out." He scoffed and moved closer to me, reached his hand out, and picked up the badge around my neck. "This ain't gonna save ya now, sugar tits." I wrapped my hand around his and bent it back towards his wrist. "What the fuck did I tell you about touching me?" He forcefully pulled his arm out of my grasp and sneered at me. “Your time is coming,” he said, then he walked away. Before I could put too much thought into what he meant by my time was coming, there were gunshots from outside on the street. We all gathered in the middle of the store before running for the stairs that led up to the roof.

We looked over the edge of the building to see a man on a horse running down the street with a large group of dead stumbling after them. Unfortunately for him, they were cut off by more walkers, and they took the horse down. We watched as the man crawled away from the walkers that tore into the poor animal. The man crawled under the tank that sat in the middle of the street below, and for what felt like hours, we waited. There was no doubt in our minds that he was dead, that was until he popped out of the top hatch, looked around, and then quickly closed it. He was stuck inside a death trap surrounded by a sea of dead.

"What do we do now? The streets are crawling with walkers!" Andrea said. "We help him. He obviously didn't know that the city was overrun," I said. I turned and looked at Glenn. "What do you say? Think we can get him out of there and back here without anyone getting hurt?" I asked. Glenn walked around to the other side of the building, looked down at the alley before coming back over, and looked down at the street clogged with walkers. "Yeah, I think we could do something."

He came up with a plan, telling everyone exactly what he was going to do and what he needed us to do, then he got on the handheld radio we had to keep in contact with the group back at the quarry. He tried all the stations until we heard the voice of a man come through. Glenn talked to him and explained what to do and where to meet him and when he was finished we headed back the stairs, into the store, and to the back where the loading docks were, to the door where maintenance would have come in.

Glenn went over the plan one more time before we walked out the door and took care of the few walkers that were I'm the alley. Then he headed for the stairs on the building across from us. He would take them up to the roof and go down the other side to an alley that was blocked off from walkers, and that would be where he'd meet the guy. We could only hope that this guy made it and Glenn would bring him back here safe.