#but i can also see her thinking the following:

[illegiblewords]

Look at bees and termites!

Worker bees are all female and have stingers. Queens are cultivated and fed special 'queen jelly' food as larva and are capable of reproduction. Pretty sure workers can't reproduce. There are logistics behind when multiple queen larva are made and I think workers sometimes deliberately kill queens and set up new queens when they deem it necessary? Would need to double check, it's been a bit. Also think queens have stingers but also can't remember for sure. Drones are male bees. Their eyes are massive because their only real purpose is to mate with the queens on their mating flights. No stingers, larger than workers. IIRC they usually die after mating or kicked from the colony to die because all they do is consume resources outside their necessity to mating. (This is not intended as bashing drones disclaimer, bee colonies are just ruthlessly pragmatic.)

These are not adequately nuanced pictures of what different termites look like--queens are waaaaay bigger, their abdomens are ENORMOUS and very squishy looking. Website I double checked says the following:

Queen The king and queen are the breeding types of termites. The alates emerge from an existing nest, spread their wings and fly to another place. Once there, the queen sheds her wings and she and the male burrow into the ground where they start to reproduce. The Queen’s only job is to reproduce! A queen can lay an egg every 15 seconds for many years, sometimes thousands in a single day. They are the largest in size and weigh several times that of worker termites. King The King’s only job is to reproduce with the Queen to build a colony. The king termite lives next to the queen, creating a very close existence for the two of them. They are buried deep within the center of the surrounding termite nest, making them the hardest to find and see. Soldier A soldier’s job is to protect the colony at all costs by fighting off invaders such as ants. They fight off their predators with a front pair of mandibles in a pinching motion. They are considered the protectors of the colony. These unwanted guests can vary greatly in appearance from other members of the termite colony. They have been seen to have darker heads and larger mandibles than the workers. Worker The workers make up the majority of the colony and are responsible for damage to structures. They feed on structures to provide a food source for themselves as well as bring the food source back to the other colony members. In most colonies, workers are wingless and soft-bodied and are the largest single group in most termite colonies. One thing that most people don’t know is that the workers take care of the eggs and immature termites (nymphs). They also take care of the building and maintenance of the colony structures. Swarmer These winged flying termites do not cause any termite damage. Their job is to swarm out, mate and return underground to start a new colony. They have a very short life span outside the colony, which is why you see many dead during swarm season. Termite swarmers emerge from tubes built by worker termites. They range in color – from yellow to black – depending on the species. These insects are often noticed around exterior lighting and window sills.

For termites worker and soldier termites are sterile but can be either male or female. The extreme dimorphism is in queen vs king particularly.

The soldiers can have differently shaped heads depending on species too. Saw some with a single protruding horn.

Eusocial insects get wild with this stuff though imo, and eusociality gets examined with aliens occasionally so worth exploring!

Also though when it comes to boobs, I raise the point that if you are going to stress them as being part of dimorphism it may be worth considering how many boobs there are. Think I remember mammals typically have double the number of nipples as expected offspring (though platapi don't have them and just sweat milk), but also mutations/display purposes are a thing. If you want to make a succubus it might be worth making rows of boobs down the abdomen instead of just a single pair at the chest.

“There are no female aliens in our game because we don’t know how to make a female version of this alien” You know that alien you just designed? That male alien? Give it a female voice actor and have characters refer to it as she. That’s it. That’s literally all you have to do 

Make her shorter if you must

Make her BIGGER if you aren’t a coward 

[blueivyy99]

Calm and Serenity

Sylus x Non!MC

summary: you didn't know what sylus saw in you. he said you were calm, quiet and serene and that's what he needs. you believed it. he showed it. not until little miss hunter came. she's everything you're not. news that she's in danger can make the ever so calm sylus to run and leave everything behind. it made you think, would he do that for you as well?

tags: angst, romance, hurt and comfort, confused sylus, non-mc reader (this is it for now)

note: first time writing after five years, please be kind. (im also new in using Tumblr idk how to use this lawrd)

It takes a strong woman to love Sylus.

Someone who can carry themselves, someone that doesn't need to be always under surveillance. Someone that can fight. Someone that is worthy to be by his side.

And somehow, you were that someone.

You didn't even know what you did that attracted him to you. Despite not being ugly, you're not a head turner also. You remember asking Sylus about what he saw in you that made him fall in love and he just smirked at you before turning around to toy with his guns and cleaning them.

“You're calm, serene, quiet. Just someone I need. Don't worry your pretty little head about it, little fox. I love you because I love you. You don't need to find explanations in everything."

At that moment, it made your heart stop in a good way. You always believed that someone like Sylus would see you, look at you, and pay attention to you but here he is. Just at an arm's reach.

No matter how everyone warns you that a bad man cannot love, yet you find yourself falling deeper and deeper and you know for certain that Sylus will be there to catch you when you fall.

Loving Sylus comes with its pros and cons. For one, you know that you're safe and in danger at the same time. Living in Onychinus as Sylus's girlfriend made you realize that you are protected yet always under the watchful eyes of your boyfriend's enemies.

Luke, Kieran and even Mephisto guards every move you make just to make sure that you're not harmed.

It's not like you can't fight for yourself, but with them beside you, you don't even have to. That's another perk of being Sylus's “little fox" as he so dearly calls you.

To be honest, you feel like it's more of a benefit than a hassle to be so close to him. Because aside from the many things in your advantage that he can provide, you found a family.

The twins may always cause ruckus, or Mephisto always giving you a heart attack every time he sneaks on you, they're your family.

Being with Sylus gave you something that no amount of money or influence can give. With him, with them, you felt like you belonged.

But then, beautiful dreams can still turn into nightmares.

You didn't really intend to overhear their conversation … or rather, Sylus's command to Mephisto.

“Follow her, report every detail. I don't want one step not taken into account,” he said.

You wouldn't mind it if it were normal circumstances. You're not really the jealous type — or rather, he didn't give you enough reasons to be jealous.

But as you look at him, you can see the somber look in his eyes. For a split second, you can even tell that he might actually cry before masking it.

You watched him as he let his walls break for a moment. No he didn't cry but you can see how his jaws are clenched and his hands are trembling. He is in deep turmoil and him not aware of your presence watching him is enough proof of that.

You felt an impending doom approaching, but you quickly shut them out. You will wait until Sylus tells you what's going on.

Maybe next morning?

Next week?

In a month?

Who knows.

So you waited and waited. But too much time has passed and he never brought it up.

Not until the answer willingly came knocking on Onychinus’s doorstep.

Miss Hunter.

Miss Hunter is a formidable fighter, that much you can say. She's not gonna beat Sylus in hand to hand combat, but she sure can put up a fight and you can see how that pleased Sylus. To be fair, it's hard for him to find an opponent in a place where is the strongest.

So you watched.

You watched from the sidelines as he frustratedly kept trying to resonate with her. You watched his pained face when he was told that she might be subconsciously disgusted by him and that prevents them from maximizing their battle potential.

It hurts, yes, you're a human after all. But you have enough trust in him and you come to the conclusion that Miss Hunter is someone that is a vital part of Sylus's much greater plan.

Whether you say that to yourself because you truly believe it or you're trying to convince yourself that there's nothing deeper going on.

No one knows.

Not even you.

“Sylus?" you called.

"Hmm?” you heard him hum from across the room of his study. He's on his swivel chair, eyes closed but surely not asleep.

It's the middle of the night and you're sure that he is awake. So you came here quickly after setting your alarm just to see him.

It's been a while since you two get to be alone and spend some time as a couple. He is always busy. Always on the phone, always on edge. It's like any time now he is going to explode. So as a good girlfriend, you came to him tonight to offer some kind of peace.

You kissed his temple before standing behind his chair and giving him a soft massage. You felt his muscles release tension and he relaxed in your arms.

“You've been working so hard lately, even the strongest men need to rest too, you know?" you said.

"I can't, sweetie.” he replied, sounding tired. "There's much that I need to do."

“Is it too much that you can't even spare your poor girlfriend a few hours for just one night?” you teased.

“You know that's not what I meant, Little Fox,"

“Then come to bed. Just for tonight. You won't function well if you're not getting the right amount of sleep. Even Mephisto needs rest so he won't overheat.” you insisted now facing him.

“That's not how he works," he grumbled but didn't say anything after. He just hugged your waist and leaned his head on you. You melted because of it.

Most people see him as terrifying and heartless but when you see him like this, you know that he's just like everyone else. He gets tired, he gets upset.

Combing your fingers through his hair and cupping his cheeks to make him look at you, “Come and rest with me. Nothing bad will happen. Stop devising strategies in your head, boss man. I believe in you.”

That seemed to do it. He sighed and got up holding your hand and dragging you to your shared bedroom.

And no matter how he tries to act that he is not tired, he immediately falls asleep as soon as you kiss him goodnight.

You looked at his sleeping form and despite how weak you are compared to him, you wanted to protect him and this little vulnerability that he shows you.

Part 2

[tulipwallowing]

Hey all, it's ya girl, Tulipwallowing (I made this tumblr just to follow IFs and this is my first post)Here's my @infamous-if tattoo!!! I think it turned out so good and I'm so happy with it!!! Special thanks to Amy for allowing me to get a tattoo for Infamous!!! The SD is Seven's initials that MC has in game (does this make me the worlds biggest sevenmancer? (no)), the 7 initial inbetween the S and D was inspired by @somewillwin 's fanart, and the star is just the infamous logo. The "Rock n' Roll saved my soul" is from the Infamous Tumblr's description!!!! Infamous has been extremely cathartic for me. My father passed away suddenly and unexpectedly- I'd been an infamous reader for a while and had thought how cool it would be to get an Infamous tattoo- but Infamous provided me a mental escape during the whole process and I spent most of my time on the 60 hour train journey thinking about or playing Infamous, and it made me eternally grateful. I loved being subbed to the patreon and getting to read everything- so I thought, why not honor (it feels so pretentious to say it's honoring but I can't think of another word...) Infamous with a tattoo? My idea was originally just to put the S7D, but I figured go big or go home, and worked tirelessly (in ms paint for about 9 minutes lol) to make a slightly bigger tattoo. I worked through several designs and eventually settled on the one you see here (refined by Sierra Lynn ofc!!) My artist was @sierralynneart on instagram at Crow's Nest tattoo! Thanks to her for doing my second ever tattoo!!! (seven claims their first ever irl victim with the tattoo) Feel free to ask any questions about getting tattoos or the process!!! I can also share my concept art/the digital version of this if anyone wants it!

[graysonfics]

xaden will never deny that he’s a jealous person. he hates the thought of you falling for someone else, someone that carries less baggage than he does. he also hates the thought of hurting you, so he keeps his distance despite the way it’s killing him inside. he’s seething as he watches you talk to dain aetos.

if you stare at him for much longer, i think he’ll burst into flames.

xaden puts up his shields and blocks out his nosey dragon.

“riorson,” imogen unlocks him from his own mind. “you didn’t hear any of that, did you?”

“i’m a little preoccupied.” xaden’s jaw clenches and imogen follows his line of vision to where you’re laughing with dain.

“you’re not even with her,” imogen scoffs. “maybe if you actually asked her out she wouldn’t need to find solace in aetos’ bed.”

“what?” xaden’s gaze snaps to imogen’s, anger flashing behind his eyes.

“why do you care?” imogen smirks. “besides, i hear he’s really good in the sack. i can’t blame the girl.”

“don’t you have a quinn to hang out with?” xaden rises to the bait and imogen rolls her eyes, but decides against tormenting him even more.

as imogen leaves, xaden focuses his attention back on you. you’re squeezing dain’s arm and that’s all it takes for xaden to go marching over there.

“aetos,” xaden calls and dain turns to look at him. “sorrengail’s looking for you. said something about you being late to meet her?”

“i don’t have any plans with violet.” dain looks confused and it makes xaden want to punch him.

“she’s looking for you,” xaden repeats, trying to unclench his jaw. “said it’s urgent.”

“okay,” dain nods. “see you later, (y/n).”

he leaves you with a smile that you return with a small wave of your hand.

“violet’s in the archives with jesinia,” you turn towards xaden. “so why did you really want rid of dain?”

you can tell he wasn’t expecting you to say that from the way he clears his throat to buy himself some time.

“when are you going to stop dancing around your feelings and ask me out?”

he’s equally not expecting that. your lips tilt up into a smile and it makes xaden’s heart clench.

“i thought you were with aetos.” xaden admits.

“dain likes someone else,” you reassure him. “and i do too. he’s moody, can wield shadows, and has a really nice smile on the rare occasion he does.”

the corners of xaden’s lips quirk up.

“i’m not sure i know him.”

“and he cracks jokes too apparently. a huge turn on.”

that afternoon, xaden walks you to class. when you take your familiar seat next to dain, you feel the curl of a shadow around your waist. you smile, settling into your chair.

[superbdragoncollection-stuff]

This is absolute MADNESS. I feel sick.

For profit prisons are beyond evil. And at this point now, I don't care; prisons in the US need to be abolished completely.

Its obvious that they are not for any intended purpose they are used solely as political tools of intimidation meant to keep the white rich Anglo Saxon status quo.

ICE must be abolished. It serves no purpose. I don't care what you think it does, IT IS FASCIST TO IMPRISON PEOPLE FOR IMPROPER PAPERWORK.

IT IS CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PUNISHMENT TO DETAIN PEOPLE LIKE THAT.

IT IS A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY TO DEPRIVE THEM LIKE THAT AND FORCE THEM INTO CELLS LIKE THAT.

"I don't know I'm just following orders"

THEY CAN LIE AND DETAIN ANYONE. WE ARE IN TROUBLE HERE.

And also? Question the authorities. Demand to see their badges. Ask questions. Hell, scream for help and say you're being kidnapped. Resist. One guy comes to "detain" her? Force them to bring more than one.

Story below the cut to avoid a paywall.

There was no explanation, no warning. One minute, I was in an immigration office talking to an officer about my work visa, which had been approved months before and allowed me, a Canadian, to work in the US. The next, I was told to put my hands against the wall, and patted down like a criminal before being sent to an Ice detention center without the chance to talk to a lawyer.

I grew up in Whitehorse, Yukon, a small town in the northernmost part of Canada. I always knew I wanted to do something bigger with my life. I left home early and moved to Vancouver, British Columbia, where I built a career spanning multiple industries – acting in film and television, owning bars and restaurants, flipping condos and managing Airbnbs.

In my 30s, I found my true passion working in the health and wellness industry. I was given the opportunity to help launch an American brand of health tonics called Holy! Water – a job that would involve moving to the US.

I was granted my trade Nafta work visa, which allows Canadian and Mexican citizens to work in the US in specific professional occupations, on my second attempt. It goes without saying, then, that I have no criminal record. I also love the US and consider myself to be a kind, hard-working person.

I started working in California and travelled back and forth between Canada and the US multiple times without any complications – until one day, upon returning to the US, a border officer questioned me about my initial visa denial and subsequent visa approval. He asked why I had gone to the San Diego border the second time to apply. I explained that that was where my lawyer’s offices were, and that he had wanted to accompany me to ensure there were no issues.

After a long interrogation, the officer told me it seemed “shady” and that my visa hadn’t been properly processed. He claimed I also couldn’t work for a company in the US that made use of hemp – one of the beverage ingredients. He revoked my visa, and told me I could still work for the company from Canada, but if I wanted to return to the US, I would need to reapply.

I was devastated; I had just started building a life in California. I stayed in Canada for the next few months, and was eventually offered a similar position with a different health and wellness brand.

I restarted the visa process and returned to the same immigration office at the San Diego border, since they had processed my visa before and I was familiar with it. Hours passed, with many confused opinions about my case. The officer I spoke to was kind but told me that, due to my previous issues, I needed to apply for my visa through the consulate. I told her I hadn’t been aware I needed to apply that way, but had no problem doing it.

Then she said something strange: “You didn’t do anything wrong. You are not in trouble, you are not a criminal.”

I remember thinking: Why would she say that? Of course I’m not a criminal!

She then told me they had to send me back to Canada. That didn’t concern me; I assumed I would simply book a flight home. But as I sat searching for flights, a man approached me.

“Come with me,” he said.

There was no explanation, no warning. He led me to a room, took my belongings from my hands and ordered me to put my hands against the wall. A woman immediately began patting me down. The commands came rapid-fire, one after another, too fast to process.

They took my shoes and pulled out my shoelaces.

“What are you doing? What is happening?” I asked.

“You are being detained.”

“I don’t understand. What does that mean? For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

That would be the response to nearly every question I would ask over the next two weeks: “I don’t know.”

They brought me downstairs for a series of interviews and medical questions, searched my bags and told me I had to get rid of half my belongings because I couldn’t take everything with me.

“Take everything with me where?” I asked.

A woman asked me for the name of someone they could contact on my behalf. In moments like this, you realize you don’t actually know anyone’s phone number anymore. By some miracle, I had recently memorized my best friend Britt’s number because I had been putting my grocery points on her account.

I gave them her phone number.

They handed me a mat and a folded-up sheet of aluminum foil.

“What is this?”

“Your blanket.”

“I don’t understand.”

I was taken to a tiny, freezing cement cell with bright fluorescent lights and a toilet. There were five other women lying on their mats with the aluminum sheets wrapped over them, looking like dead bodies. The guard locked the door behind me.

For two days, we remained in that cell, only leaving briefly for food. The lights never turned off, we never knew what time it was and no one answered our questions. No one in the cell spoke English, so I either tried to sleep or meditate to keep from having a breakdown. I didn’t trust the food, so I fasted, assuming I wouldn’t be there long.

On the third day, I was finally allowed to make a phone call. I called Britt and told her that I didn’t understand what was happening, that no one would tell me when I was going home, and that she was my only contact.

They gave me a stack of paperwork to sign and told me I was being given a five-year ban unless I applied for re-entry through the consulate. The officer also said it didn’t matter whether I signed the papers or not; it was happening regardless.

I was so delirious that I just signed. I told them I would pay for my flight home and asked when I could leave.

No answer.

Then they moved me to another cell – this time with no mat or blanket. I sat on the freezing cement floor for hours. That’s when I realized they were processing me into real jail: the Otay Mesa Detention Center.

I was told to shower, given a jail uniform, fingerprinted and interviewed. I begged for information.

“How long will I be here?”

“I don’t know your case,” the man said. “Could be days. Could be weeks. But I’m telling you right now – you need to mentally prepare yourself for months.”

Months.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

I was taken to the nurse’s office for a medical check. She asked what had happened to me. She had never seen a Canadian there before. When I told her my story, she grabbed my hand and said: “Do you believe in God?”

I told her I had only recently found God, but that I now believed in God more than anything.

“I believe God brought you here for a reason,” she said. “I know it feels like your life is in a million pieces, but you will be OK. Through this, I think you are going to find a way to help others.”

At the time, I didn’t know what that meant. She asked if she could pray for me. I held her hands and wept.

I felt like I had been sent an angel.

I was then placed in a real jail unit: two levels of cells surrounding a common area, just like in the movies. I was put in a tiny cell alone with a bunk bed and a toilet.

The best part: there were blankets. After three days without one, I wrapped myself in mine and finally felt some comfort.

For the first day, I didn’t leave my cell. I continued fasting, terrified that the food might make me sick. The only available water came from the tap attached to the toilet in our cells or a sink in the common area, neither of which felt safe to drink.

Eventually, I forced myself to step out, meet the guards and learn the rules. One of them told me: “No fighting.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” I joked. He laughed.

I asked if there had ever been a fight here.

“In this unit? No,” he said. “No one in this unit has a criminal record.”

That’s when I started meeting the other women.

That’s when I started hearing their stories.

And that’s when I made a decision: I would never allow myself to feel sorry for my situation again. No matter how hard this was, I had to be grateful. Because every woman I met was in an even more difficult position than mine.

There were around 140 of us in our unit. Many women had lived and worked in the US legally for years but had overstayed their visas – often after reapplying and being denied. They had all been detained without warning.

If someone is a criminal, I agree they should be taken off the streets. But not one of these women had a criminal record. These women acknowledged that they shouldn’t have overstayed and took responsibility for their actions. But their frustration wasn’t about being held accountable; it was about the endless, bureaucratic limbo they had been trapped in.

The real issue was how long it took to get out of the system, with no clear answers, no timeline and no way to move forward. Once deported, many have no choice but to abandon everything they own because the cost of shipping their belongings back is too high.

I met a woman who had been on a road trip with her husband. She said they had 10-year work visas. While driving near the San Diego border, they mistakenly got into a lane leading to Mexico. They stopped and told the agent they didn’t have their passports on them, expecting to be redirected. Instead, they were detained. They are both pastors.

I met a family of three who had been living in the US for 11 years with work authorizations. They paid taxes and were waiting for their green cards. Every year, the mother had to undergo a background check, but this time, she was told to bring her whole family. When they arrived, they were taken into custody and told their status would now be processed from within the detention center.

Another woman from Canada had been living in the US with her husband who was detained after a traffic stop. She admitted she had overstayed her visa and accepted that she would be deported. But she had been stuck in the system for almost six weeks because she hadn’t had her passport. Who runs casual errands with their passport?

One woman had a 10-year visa. When it expired, she moved back to her home country, Venezuela. She admitted she had overstayed by one month before leaving. Later, she returned for a vacation and entered the US without issue. But when she took a domestic flight from Miami to Los Angeles, she was picked up by Ice and detained. She couldn’t be deported because Venezuela wasn’t accepting deportees. She didn’t know when she was getting out.

There was a girl from India who had overstayed her student visa for three days before heading back home. She then came back to the US on a new, valid visa to finish her master’s degree and was handed over to Ice due to the three days she had overstayed on her previous visa.

There were women who had been picked up off the street, from outside their workplaces, from their homes. All of these women told me that they had been detained for time spans ranging from a few weeks to 10 months. One woman’s daughter was outside the detention center protesting for her release.

That night, the pastor invited me to a service she was holding. A girl who spoke English translated for me as the women took turns sharing their prayers – prayers for their sick parents, for the children they hadn’t seen in weeks, for the loved ones they had been torn away from.

Then, unexpectedly, they asked if they could pray for me. I was new here, and they wanted to welcome me. They formed a circle around me, took my hands and prayed. I had never felt so much love, energy and compassion from a group of strangers in my life. Everyone was crying.

At 3am the next day, I was woken up in my cell.

“Pack your bag. You’re leaving.”

I jolted upright. “I get to go home?”

The officer shrugged. “I don’t know where you’re going.”

Of course. No one ever knew anything.

I grabbed my things and went downstairs, where 10 other women stood in silence, tears streaming down their faces. But these weren’t happy tears. That was the moment I learned the term “transferred”.

For many of these women, detention centers had become a twisted version of home. They had formed bonds, established routines and found slivers of comfort in the friendships they had built. Now, without warning, they were being torn apart and sent somewhere new. Watching them say goodbye, clinging to each other, was gut-wrenching.

I had no idea what was waiting for me next. In hindsight, that was probably for the best.

Our next stop was Arizona, the San Luis Regional Detention Center. The transfer process lasted 24 hours, a sleepless, grueling ordeal. This time, men were transported with us. Roughly 50 of us were crammed into a prison bus for the next five hours, packed together – women in the front, men in the back. We were bound in chains that wrapped tightly around our waists, with our cuffed hands secured to our bodies and shackles restraining our feet, forcing every movement into a slow, clinking struggle.

When we arrived at our next destination, we were forced to go through the entire intake process all over again, with medical exams, fingerprinting – and pregnancy tests; they lined us up in a filthy cell, squatting over a communal toilet, holding Dixie cups of urine while the nurse dropped pregnancy tests in each of our cups. It was disgusting.

We sat in freezing-cold jail cells for hours, waiting for everyone to be processed. Across the room, one of the women suddenly spotted her husband. They had both been detained and were now seeing each other for the first time in weeks.

The look on her face – pure love, relief and longing – was something I’ll never forget.

We were beyond exhausted. I felt like I was hallucinating.

The guard tossed us each a blanket: “Find a bed.”

There were no pillows. The room was ice cold, and one blanket wasn’t enough. Around me, women lay curled into themselves, heads covered, looking like a room full of corpses. This place made the last jail feel like the Four Seasons.

I kept telling myself: Do not let this break you.

Thirty of us shared one room. We were given one Styrofoam cup for water and one plastic spoon that we had to reuse for every meal. I eventually had to start trying to eat and, sure enough, I got sick. None of the uniforms fit, and everyone had men’s shoes on. The towels they gave us to shower were hand towels. They wouldn’t give us more blankets. The fluorescent lights shined on us 24/7.

Everything felt like it was meant to break you. Nothing was explained to us. I wasn’t given a phone call. We were locked in a room, no daylight, with no idea when we would get out.

I tried to stay calm as every fiber of my being raged towards panic mode. I didn’t know how I would tell Britt where I was. Then, as if sent from God, one of the women showed me a tablet attached to the wall where I could send emails. I only remembered my CEO’s email from memory. I typed out a message, praying he would see it.

He responded.

Through him, I was able to connect with Britt. She told me that they were working around the clock trying to get me out. But no one had any answers; the system made it next to impossible. I told her about the conditions in this new place, and that was when we decided to go to the media.

She started working with a reporter and asked whether I would be able to call her so she could loop him in. The international phone account that Britt had previously tried to set up for me wasn’t working, so one of the other women offered to let me use her phone account to make the call.

We were all in this together.

With nothing to do in my cell but talk, I made new friends – women who had risked everything for the chance at a better life for themselves and their families.

Through them, I learned the harsh reality of seeking asylum. Showing me their physical scars, they explained how they had paid smugglers anywhere from $20,000 to $60,000 to reach the US border, enduring brutal jungles and horrendous conditions.

One woman had been offered asylum in Mexico within two weeks but had been encouraged to keep going to the US. Now, she was stuck, living in a nightmare, separated from her young children for months. She sobbed, telling me how she felt like the worst mother in the world.

Many of these women were highly educated and spoke multiple languages. Yet, they had been advised to pretend they didn’t speak English because it would supposedly increase their chances of asylum.

Some believed they were being used as examples, as warnings to others not to try to come.

Women were starting to panic in this new facility, and knowing I was most likely the first person to get out, they wrote letters and messages for me to send to their families.

It felt like we had all been kidnapped, thrown into some sort of sick psychological experiment meant to strip us of every ounce of strength and dignity.

We were from different countries, spoke different languages and practiced different religions. Yet, in this place, none of that mattered. Everyone took care of each other. Everyone shared food. Everyone held each other when someone broke down. Everyone fought to keep each other’s hope alive.

I got a message from Britt. My story had started to blow up in the media.

Almost immediately after, I was told I was being released.

My Ice agent, who had never spoken to me, told my lawyer I could have left sooner if I had signed a withdrawal form, and that they hadn’t known I would pay for my own flight home.

From the moment I arrived, I begged every officer I saw to let me pay for my own ticket home. Not a single one of them ever spoke to me about my case.

To put things into perspective: I had a Canadian passport, lawyers, resources, media attention, friends, family and even politicians advocating for me. Yet, I was still detained for nearly two weeks.

Imagine what this system is like for every other person in there.

A small group of us were transferred back to San Diego at 2am – one last road trip, once again shackled in chains. I was then taken to the airport, where two officers were waiting for me. The media was there, so the officers snuck me in through a side door, trying to avoid anyone seeing me in restraints. I was beyond grateful that, at the very least, I didn’t have to walk through the airport in chains.

To my surprise, the officers escorting me were incredibly kind, and even funny. It was the first time I had laughed in weeks.

I asked if I could put my shoelaces back on.

“Yes,” one of them said with a grin. “But you better not run.”

“Yeah,” the other added. “Or we’ll have to tackle you in the airport. That’ll really make the headlines.”

I laughed, then told them I had spent a lot of time observing the guards during my detention and I couldn’t believe how often I saw humans treating other humans with such disregard. “But don’t worry,” I joked. “You two get five stars.”

When I finally landed in Canada, my mom and two best friends were waiting for me. So was the media. I spoke to them briefly, numb and delusional from exhaustion.

It was surreal listening to my friends recount everything they had done to get me out: working with lawyers, reaching out to the media, making endless calls to detention centers, desperately trying to get through to Ice or anyone who could help. They said the entire system felt rigged, designed to make it nearly impossible for anyone to get out.

The reality became clear: Ice detention isn’t just a bureaucratic nightmare. It’s a business. These facilities are privately owned and run for profit.

Companies like CoreCivic and GEO Group receive government funding based on the number of people they detain, which is why they lobby for stricter immigration policies. It’s a lucrative business: CoreCivic made over $560m from Ice contracts in a single year. In 2024, GEO Group made more than $763m from Ice contracts.

The more detainees, the more money they make. It stands to reason that these companies have no incentive to release people quickly. What I had experienced was finally starting to make sense.

[neigepomme]

watching the sunset with caleb fic i beg >< just laying our head on his shoulder with his arm around us ARGH i need something fluffy 🙏ALSO CONGRATS ON 500 FOLLOWERS!! you deserve the world 🫶

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ style / caleb x reader

synopsis; special delivery! did a certain pipsqueak order a cute pilot boyfriend to distract her from her upcoming exams? well you're in luck, because caleb is here to help!

🍎 pomme's notes — omg i have not listened to taylor swift in a HOT MINUTE this was fun.. if anyone's interested in participating in my drabble event, the info is right here!

⋆ 800 words / fluff / fem reader / 2nd person

exam season was going to kill you. or the heat in your dorm room. whatever came first.

studying for the hunter's exam was a pain, on top of that you were growing insanely homesick and missing caleb's braised chicken wings. you loved the prospect of being a hunter, of course you did, but being away from your boyfriend's arms and instead being doomed to pull all-nighters 3 days in a row? not fun.

on top of that, the AC in your dorm room was out and you felt yourself sticking to your chair. the sad fan that the college provided while you waited for maintenance wasn't doing much to help, instead the soft breeze from your window was the only thing bringing you a semblance of cool air.

but in the midst of your misery you just thought about caleb.

he was busy at the DAA, probably with an assignment in the deepspace tunnel or something, so you didn't let him know that you really, really missed him — something about not putting pilots under stress. that didn't stop you from dreaming about him whisking you away from your studies, just for the evening, at least.

your phone buzzing broke your reverie, and when you look down to read the text message, your entire expression brightens.

getting up from your desk, you look down your window, and it's like caleb can read your mind. leaning against his car outside of your dorm, he waves at you to come down, and you quickly put on shoes and run to him.

"i thought you were in the deepspace tunnel?!"

he grins at you before leaning down to hold you tightly in his arms.

"what, can't i miss my girlfriend who's clearly been deprived of vitamin caleb? you look like you haven't been sleeping at all. exam season's that bad?"

you really were going through a caleb deficiency but you weren't going to outright admit it, so you instead just melt into his embrace and complain about your finals. how much you've studied, and how stressful your teammates for your end of semester presentation were — and that stupid broken AC.

resting his chin atop your head, he hums and sways with you back and forth, soothing you a bit from finals anxiety.

"what do you say we go on a ride and watch the sunset together then? distract you a bit from schoolwork."

it's in moments like these that you think caleb truly is your soulmate.

nodding furiously, you open the passenger door and get inside, all while he laughs at how excited you are. this was just like when you two were younger, he'd take you on late evening drives and you'd sing along to whatever song was on the radio while the soft breeze caressed both of your faces.

this was the closest to heaven on earth. caleb by your side, singing taylor swift songs at the top of your lungs together, while sipping the fizzy apple soda he got for you.

he pulls into a parking lot near a national park, where you can see the setting sun reflected into the nearby lake motioning at you to get out. opening the car trunk to reveal a blanket laid out and a box of your favorite cut up fruits, he hops in before extending a hand towards you.

"get comfy, i'm kidnapping you for the next few hours before i have to go back to the DAA."

caleb really was an angel sent from above to save you from college troubles, wasn't he? you grab onto his hand and he drags you towards him, allowing you to rest your body against him, his arm resting around your waist.

finally allowing yourself to exhale and push away the stress of exams, you lean your head on his shoulder and stare at the sunset. the purple and orange shades remind you of him, his gorgeous eyes always so full of love when he looked at you.

"this sunset looks like you, caleb. i missed this."

you don't need to see his face to know that he's got a smile plastered on it after hearing your comment, his ears probably red and his cheeks flushed from your sudden wave of romanticism.

"mmh. missed this too, pips. missed you."

and as the last rays of sunlight fade from view, you think — loving caleb could never get tiring for you. a never ending teenage love, never growing old, never going out of style.

🍎 pomme's notes — i think caleb would know the lyrics to popular pop songs and yell them out with you in the car nods nods.. also caleb come whisk me away from my responsibilities PLEASE!!!!!

[22ayla21]

Hiiii~ I really like your Amphoreus men trio posts a lot, so I'm gonna request something.

I've been craving for spicy noodles while thinking of (one of) them and was thinking, what if their wife has some crazy spice tolerance? Of course, she would only make one dish for herself only (she wouldn't want them to die),until they questioned it and found out one of the kids inherited her spice tolerant.

Fiery Inheritance

His wife is quite the fan of herbs and spiciness, but it turns out these genes were passed on to one of her children.

Appetizing aromas filled the kitchen—a mix of spices, stewed meat, and fresh herbs. Mydei's wife deftly wielded a knife, chopping vegetables, while a pot of fragrant sauce simmered on the stove. Today was a special family dinner, and, as always, she was cooking with love.

She had long known the golden rule: not to make it too spicy for the others. Although she herself could easily eat something that would make the gods cry, her husband and children had varying levels of spice tolerance. So, the usual balance had been worked out over the years—a delicate, fragrant, slightly spicy dish for everyone, and a hellish fiery concoction for herself.

But today, she discovered something unexpected.

"Mom, can I have some more sauce?" her middle daughter held out her plate, almost empty. His wife smiled, taking the ladle.

"Of course, dear."

But then she noticed something strange.

The middle daughter scooped up a spoonful and… without blinking, calmly put a piece of meat soaked in the scorching sauce from her personal plate into her mouth.

His wife froze. Mydei also froze, watching his daughter like an exotic animal.

"You…" his wife narrowed her eyes. "It's not spicy for you?"

The daughter shrugged.

"Well… a little." She paused, then added, "But it's tasty!"

Mydei dropped his fork. His wife felt a surge of pride.

She carefully put down her spoon and looked intently at her daughter, as if seeing her for the first time.

"You mean it's okay for you?"

"Yep." The girl smiled cheerfully. "Can I add some more pepper?"

Mydei raised his hands.

"No-no-no, wait, your mother can eat lava, but you…"

"No, wait," his wife smiled predatorily. "Let her try."

Mydei watched in horror as his wife generously added more spices to her daughter's plate, and she continued to eat with gusto, not even wincing.

"Great stars…" he muttered. "She's definitely your daughter."

His wife patted her daughter on the shoulder with a proud smile.

"Welcome to the club."

The middle daughter giggled happily, while Mydei clutched his head. Now there were two people in the family capable of consuming pure flame.

"We're all doomed," he whispered. But his wife only smirked, scooping up another spoonful of her fiery dinner. Now she knew exactly who would inherit her secret family recipe.

The smell of spices filled the kitchen, mingling with the aromas of stewed meat, herbs, and seasonings. Anaxa's wife deftly handled a knife, chopping greens, while a stew simmered on the stove. She always maintained a balance of flavors for the family—enough spices to enhance the taste, but not enough to burn. However, her own plate was a different story.

She carefully set aside the communal pot and took her portion. Hot peppers fell into her plate one by one—red, green, even a rare blue one that promised a truly fiery taste. Black pepper sprinkled thickly, followed by spices that burned even from a distance.

"Just right," she thought with satisfaction, stirring the explosive mixture. But as soon as she took a spoonful, a voice sounded nearby.

"Mom, can I try?"

She raised her head and met the shining eyes of her youngest son. The child looked at her plate with lively interest, not with horror like the other family members.

"Are you sure? It's… very spicy."

He just nodded impatiently.

Anaxa's wife brought the spoon to her son's mouth, watching his reaction. The other children and even Anaxa himself froze with curiosity. They were ready to see tears, panic, or at least a hiss from the burning. But the boy just chewed slowly, and then… beamed.

"Tasty!"

Silence fell in the room. The older children exchanged shocked glances, and Anaxa frowned, as if his world had cracked.

"He's like her…" the father muttered barely audibly. His wife smirked, gently ruffling her son's hair.

"Looks like you take after me."

And at that moment, Anaxa realized that even more extreme culinary experiments awaited their home.

The kitchen smelled of spices. The pungent aroma of cardamom, coriander, and hot pepper filled the room, mingling with the haze of freshly cooked dinner. Phainon, standing at the threshold, watched as his wife deftly served soup into plates, habitually adding an extra handful of spices to her portion.

He was used to this sight. Since the beginning of their marriage, he had realized that his wife was not one to fear fire, at least when it came to food. The usual amount of spices for her was something trivial, so she always seasoned her portion in a way that would make anyone else's eyes pop out.

"How do you even eat that…" he once muttered, watching her calmly devour the blazing mess as if it were ordinary bread and butter.

She only smiled in response.

Today was no exception. But as soon as she looked down at her youngest daughter, something clicked in her head. The girl looked at her mother's dish with obvious interest, then at her own plate, and then, without further ado, took a spoon and, as if habitually, scooped from her mother's plate.

Phainon had already reached out to take the spoon away—he knew how strong the "fire" was and didn't want their child to suffer. However, his wife stopped him with a light wave of her hand, watching her daughter with genuine interest.

And then something incredible happened. The girl calmly chewed a piece, tilted her head as if considering the taste, and then… scooped up another spoonful.

Phainon froze.

"No… it can't be…"

But the fact was evident. The youngest daughter calmly ate the soup, saturated with so many spices that it would make him, an adult man, sweat. Moreover, a familiar expression appeared in her eyes—satisfaction.

His wife suppressed a chuckle, her shoulders shaking with restrained laughter.

"She's like you…" Phainon breathed, slightly stunned.

"Looks like it." She patted her daughter on the head with pride. The girl only smiled contentedly and pushed her mother's dish towards herself, clearly intending to finish it. Phainon ran a hand over his face.

"Well… I guess there's one more fireproof person in this house…"

His wife only nodded contentedly, watching her daughter devour the "fiery" dinner with gusto. It was now obvious that she had inherited not only her mother's character, but also her taste preferences.

[jack-of-heartstrings]

Oohhhhhhhh my God, you are absolutely right on every account but now I am... also picturing how that would actually go...

Can you IMAGINE Adrien being sat down to that news, with not only Ladybug, but Nathalie, Kagami, Felix... I'm still not sure if Placide ever actually knew about it but imagine if he did or if they told him first to ask for extra support in the group thing here.

Imagine if this happens AFTER their own reveal. Imagine if it's coming from MARINETTE, who he by then knows is also Ladybug, or if she admits her identity ALONG with this, for some reason...

I think the BEST CASE SCENARIO would be to tell Adrien AND ALYA and maybe a few other trusted folks at the same time. I think if Alya was ALSO there, and hearing it for the as-far-as-she-remembers-first time alongside him, seeing at least one other person shocked and horrified alongside him would make a world of difference. I think Alya's utter outrage on his behalf would be comforting in a way he wouldn't realize he needed otherwise, but that she would be just reasonable and far enough from the problem enough to help keep him grounded, too. To call everyone out on how messed up this was but to begrudgingly understand why they all struggled and respect that they are making the effort now, and help emphasize that to Adrien as someone who was not in on it herself. As someone he can safely believe would have told him immediately.

Because WITHOUT THAT, can you imagine being sat down by nearly every important person in your life to tell you something this big, and that you were— at least as far as it feels in the moment— the only one who didn't know. That ALL of them let you believe such a huge lie, like you're some fragile little doll they're afraid of breaking, after how the man whose honor they lied to protect treated you all your life.

You thought you were finally free to live for yourself and make your own choices, and it hurt like hell that it took something like this to reach this point, but you thought understood. You thought he really had been doing it to protect you, that he was being coerced by some outside force. You thought there was reason to believe he hated how much he was forced to put you through. One of the last things you ever heard him say, when he didn't know he was talking to you, was that he believed you were very happy. Under the lie, you'd wanted to believe that, that he was doing the best he could under the circumstances.

But no. Everyone is STILL making choices for you. Also you basically WERE made to be a perfect little doll, and a lot of those choices you took as you just being really averse to disobeying, or even you "just" being irrationally terrified, were never choices at all. You were his puppet, and Nathalie's, who was his sidekick by the way. And now you have to question your whole life before, too. Even your beloved angelic saint of a mother, she wore that ring; were you ever her puppet, too?

You might be inclined to think they're all the same, that none of them ever really saw you as a person once they knew what you were, but Felix and Kagami are right here and they didn't respect you any more than the others. Even they both got to know and thought you shouldn't.

Like...

Guys I am TERRIFIED that Adrien can now destroy memories. I am TERRIFIED that they chose to reference Chat Blanc in new ways in THIS episode of all things. I am terrified of the episode opening with them emphasizing everyone being able to use their powers over and over, and following that with Adrien wishing he could have a normal life where nobody knows him. And I hope to God we can have Alya and maybe like Luka and Su-Han or something finding out alongside him but I'm not sure even that would necessarily help.

Our biggest saving grace is that Adrien gets sad so much easier than he gets mad, but when he DOES get mad, or even panicked, well..... His feelings do tend to get destructive... 🫠

it's wild that Alya would actually hate Marinette if she learned the secrets she'd been keeping from her. I--I actually don't know what to say, I'm so shocked by the fact that she stayed mad the whole time she remembered the secret.

[writingwithfolklore]

The Role of Each Plot Point

In film formula, each plot point has a very specific role. This post is a follow-up to the previous you can read here, where we talked about how every plot point should contribute to your protagonist’s arc. Now, we’re going to look into what these plot points are, and how they contribute to your protagonist’s arc.

Intro:

To begin, we can’t see how a character grows by the end if we don’t know how they started. The very first point of your story should be what we call the “normal world”. Within this point, there should be a small conflict for the protagonist to overcome to demonstrate their strengths and hint at their weaknesses, and should ideally foreshadow the inciting incident.

For example, in Tangled, Rapunzel argues with her mother about going out to see the floating lights on her birthday, and we see that she is thoughtful and kind, but also naïve and bullied by mother Gothel.

This smaller conflict foreshadows the inciting incident, where Flynn will break into the tower and she’ll bully him into taking her to the lights.

Inciting Incident:

This point is the beginning of your character’s arc. It is something that happens to your protagonist (so not a choice that they make, yet) and completely flips their world on their head, pulling them outside of their comfort zone. It is the start to conflicts they will eventually have to face, forcing them to change.

Following our example, Flynn breaks into the tower (something that happens to Rapunzel), and agrees to take her outside of her tower (quite literally leaving her comfort zone by venturing out into the dangerous/uncertain world).

First Act Turn:

This is the first choice your character makes. This choice is spurred on by the inciting incident and relates directly to how your character wants to achieve their goals/objective.

Fun and Games:

Rising action, typically with an undercurrent of success. In Tangled, this is the part they’re exploring the world and getting closer. They’re still facing conflicts (running from goons, getting trapped in the cave, etc.) but they are succeeding.

Midpoint:

I tend to think of this as the “beginning of the end”. This point is another thing that typically happens to your protagonist that is a direct result of the choice they made at the first act turn. It looks first like a success—where the protagonist has achieved their objective—before it is reversed and they lose everything. This point is the largest raise of stakes in the story.

In Tangled, this is the point Rapunzel gets to see the lights and is just about to kiss Flynn when the goons catch up to them, and she believes he betrays her. It is a victory, followed by a devastating loss.

Things Get Worse:

Rising action but with an undercurrent of everything going wrong. Rapunzel is brought back to her tower, Flynn is locked in jail and set to be hanged.

Second Act Turn:

This is another major choice your character makes responding directly to what happened at the Midpoint. What’s important here is that the character takes a new strategy to fulfill their goal. This choice should feel desperate and offer a slim chance of success.

In Tangled, Rapunzel confronts her mother and chooses not to return back to her life in the tower.

Crisis:

Responds directly to the choice the character made. It places them in a dangerous situation (high stakes, physical or moral jeopardy) where the probability of their failure is high. This is the point the protagonist recognizes their unconscious need.

Rapunzel is locked up in the tower and Flynn gets stabbed trying to get to her.

Climax:

One last decision! The protagonist is confronted by their worst fear and must act, usually requiring some sort of sacrifice and reveals to us who they have become over the course of the story. This choice will also determine your theme.

Rapunzel tells mother Gothel that if she allows her to heal Flynn, she'll stop trying to get away from her, obvious sacrifice. Then, Flynn decides to cut her hair, sacrificing his own hope of survival while killing Mother Gothel for good to save Rapunzel.

Resolution:

Shows the consequences of the choice made in the climax (good and bad). Draws remaining questions to a close, and demonstrates the way the world has changed due to what happened. How the world is now (good or bad) carries a statement on whether the character made the right or wrong choice—which is the lasting impression of your theme.

In Tangled, Flynn is healed and Rapunzel reunites with her parents and takes on her role as the princess.

[zuko-always-lies]

What makes a villain's fate "deserved" in the context of ATLA

Aang: [Cut to Katara, Toph and Sokka from the behind, as Aang speaks.] Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone's capable of great good and great evil. [Cut to an aerial shot of the hardened lava wave.] Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance. [Shot cuts to a close-up of Aang's face.] And I also think it was about friendships.

There's little more common in fiction than villains suffering deserved, karmic fates. However, ATLA is a show which heavily focusses on the themes of redemption, which argues that everyone deserves being given a chance to do better. In this context, a villain's fate can only be truly karmic if they were given a chance to do better and rejected it. We can see this play out in the series.

Zhao

Zhao wants to kill the moon to become a legend. The heroes and Iroh explain to Zhao why this is a very bad idea, and nearly convince him, but ultimately he kills Tui anyways. Thus, when the Ocean Spirit kills him in retaliation, it feels appropriate and karmic.

Zhao is even given a second chance, if he's willing to put aside his hatred of Zuko, but he refuses to. That makes his fate even more appropiate

Long Feng

Long Feng fits this idea less well, but it's still there. When he explains that he's really in charge of the Earth Kingdom, the Gaang tries to tell him about the eclipse, but he refuses to listen, leading to their continued efforts to contact the Earth King personally. If he had just put aside him "no war in Ba Sing Se" rule for five seconds and promised to help them, he never would have faced his downfall. And, of course, he responds to losing power by allying with Azula, a sworn enemy of his nation, before trying to backstab her. His end is appropriate but perhaps not fully karmic.

Zuko

Zuko is someone who manages to avoid a bad fate in canon. However, given how many chances at redemption he gets that he rejects, how many chances the heroes give him, if he had rejected redemption yet again and suffered a very sad, tragic fate because of it, it would have felt very appropriate and karmic within the confines of the story.

Combustion Man

He's basically not a character, so this concept doesn't apply to him.

Edit: As @boomerangguy has pointed out, even Combustion Man has someone try to reason with him.

Ozai

Even though Ozai is the big bad of the series, the concept still applies to him. It's important that Aang gives him a chance, and it's important that Ozai rejects that chance. After that, Ozai's fate feels fully appropriate.

Azula

Azula faces one of the saddest fates in canon, but it doesn't really work within the themes of ATLA. Azula is a bad person who does some really bad things, but she's mostly just doing what she's supposed to. She's serving her father, her Firelord, her family, and her nation and following the path a young Fire Nation royal is supposed to. She lacks the sheer egomania of Zhao or the selfish corruption of Long Feng.

But she is never given a chance, never given a choice, either by the narrative or by the heroes. She is never shown kindness by the heroes. She never has her life saved by them. No one ever tries to reason with her or tell her she can pick a different path. No one ever tells her they don't want to fight her or that they wish they could be friends with her. She, through her actions, tells her brother she doesn't want to fight him, but he never really reciprocates.

In the end, she tells one of the heroes, her own brother, that she wishes things could be different, and he tells her to get fucked, instead of offering his hand the way he did for Zhao.

This is why Azula's fate can't be karmic, in the context of ATLA. She was never given a chance to chose otherwise.

[happysparklingshadows]

A Certain Hunger (7/?)

Chapter 6 ✿ Chapter 8

Summary: A heartbroken reader is trying to piece her heart back together as best as she can with all the resources she has available. The reader tries to be a good friend as she tries to find meaning in dreams and maybe helps with an abortion. The adult reader is trying to connect with her own ghosts as she tries to get through another brunch.

Pairing: Surviving!Poly! Yellowjackets x reader (slow burn)

Warnings: There is talk of abortion (spoiler: it doesn't happen), another trippy dream sequence, sexual tension, ghost Jackie, heartbroken Reader, Adult Reader lore dropping this chapter, and making Natalie jealous with Lottie is becoming a thing, lol.

Word count: 15.7k

Notes: I hope you guys will forgive me for posting this morning instead of last night. I completely crashed after I got home. This needs another edit, but I hope you enjoy it! Also, please tell me what you think about the outfits at the end of the chapter! We did another Poll to see what will happen after everything with Natalie and this was the outcome!

❀ A03 ❀ wattpad ❀ spotify playlist  ❀

‘96

You groan in frustration at the small nut in your hand, which is rotten and has a small hole made from an animal. You throw the chestnut onto the forest floor with a sigh. “It’ll just make us more constipated,” you think as you focus on whatever small nuts could still be on the ground. You didn’t have much hope to forage like everyone else, as things have been getting harder lately. No luck with the hunter, and the fishing season was leaving as September started. You sigh again as you roll your eyes. 

“Seriously? How the fuck are there no berry.” Mari grumbles as she stands up from a bush. She pulls her leg up and kicks the branches.

 “The birds could be picking them off? Or-or mice?” Akilah tries to reason as she rests her hand to cover her eyes. Everyone was feeling the frustration of hunger. 

You sigh softly and say, “We’re not the only animals out here looking for food.” 

“I’d eat the crap out of a mouse right now,” Van confesses as she sits on a rock for rest. 

“Ew.” “Gross.” 

“You know, some animals live off eating their own vomit.” Lottie adds, trying to get the attention away from her best friend. 

“Okay. Thanks for the image, Lot.” Van sighs back to Lottie, a whisper of a smirk on her lips in humor. 

“Did dead cabin guy tell you that, or do you guys just chat about blood and stuff?” Mari snickered to Lottie as she looked over to the crouching girl. 

“No, we mostly talk about how Danny Mears dumped you for his own cousin,” Lottie said with a mocking smile, sending it to Mari as she stood up and walked away. 

You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your lips. Your eyes followed Lottie as she walked away toward the fork in the trail, leading towards the field area and the thicker parts of the woods. Mari looked at you and then back to Akilah and Van: “Hey! They’re second cousins. And that’s totally legal, you know.” 

You look at Mari with a snicker growing wider on your lips as you say to her in your kind voice, “Stand up, girl. You don’t have to defend your cousin's fucking ex. Danny Mears is fucking weirdo.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle as you followed Lottie onto the path, ignoring Mari, who was trying to defend herself again. You felt Van behind you as you approached Lottie, who quickly turned around in fear. Van said before you could speak, “Hey, look, ignore Mari, okay? I don’t think she has taken a shit in, like, two weeks.”  

You pause as Van speaks to look over Lottie’s face. She had seen something. You felt it in the way her eyes looked burdened. 

“Yeah.” Lottie breathlessly replies. 

“Are you okay?” Van asks Lottie quickly as she looks her over as you did a moment ago. Seeing the same thing you did in Lottie. Lottie looks behind herself for a second, and both of your eyes follow hers to see only empty bushes and leaves. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Lottie replies again with a soft smile on her lips. “It’s- it’s fine.” 

Van nods her head softly and looks her over a little. “Okay.” 

Van accepts what Lottie says to her and returns to the others foraging, but you stay planted in your spot. 

You didn’t want to sound crazy, but you couldn’t help but feel the need to say. “It’s okay, you know. I’ve seen and heard crazy stuff out here, too, since we’ve been here. I don’t think you’re crazy.” 

Lottie looks at you with wide eyes for a moment, then looks behind herself again, and says, “I am crazy. I-I don’t understand what I am seeing. These are wrong.” 

You paused as you took in her words, trying to find the right thing to say: “I don’t think you're completely crazy, then. Like the seance thing, I know you can’t speak French. I’ve seen things on my own out here.” 

Lottie’s eyes soften as she slowly lowers her eyes to the ground in a mix of confusion and fear. “Like, what did I even say? I’m not good at French, I don’t even-”

“You spoke it like you lived in Quebec, Lottie. It was scary.” You admit to her without needing to think. You didn’t want to tell her what she said as you didn’t want to think about what she said that night. “That’s why I don’t think you made it up like the others.” 

Lottie looks back up to you quickly as she studies your face. She shakes her head softly and says, “I didn’t fake it. I don’t even remember anything after the fake boob question.” 

You nod and touch her arm for reassurance. “I know. I don’t know if ghosts or spirits exist, but after that, I don’t know if I can say that anymore.” 

“What did you see?” She asks, almost desperate for someone to reassure her and tell her she wasn’t the only one seeing what she saw that night. 

“Well, what I saw wasn’t during the seance.” You spieled off as you looked back at the others, ensuring they were out of earshot. You said, “I saw it that day; I was gone all day. It-It just wasn’t right.” 

Lottie looks at you with an intensity you can’t place. She asks, “What was it?”

“It was this weird-looking tree. It was familiar, but I knew we didn’t have one like that on the trail. It looked like a woman peeking out at me because it curved and stuff.” You try to explain, but you can’t find the right words to convey the horror you felt that day. “I kept walking on the trail, and when I got to the plane, it was like I couldn’t go past it. I felt like I was walking for hours in circles, always coming back to the nose of the plane even though I had passed it moments before. I don’t know if I was asleep, dreaming this all, or something was turning me around for a reason…” You confess to Lottie, who stares at you with wide, concerned eyes, and you let your gaze drop to the ground in embarrassment. You shouldn’t have said anything. “Sorry, I must sound crazy right now.” 

Lottie looks at you deeply and is almost lost in your words, looking at the wrinkle in your eyebrow that has formed since the crash. “I don’t think you're crazy. (Y/n), I don’t think you were just seeing things.” 

“Well, I have to be because there is no such thing as a tree woman.” 

“No, but dreams are said to have meaning to them. My mom always told me that my daydreams were so intense because of my imagination and anxiety.” Lottie explains, her voice growing more passionate as if she is finding a solution to her problems. “But I don’t think it was my imagination. I think it was a vision.” 

You paused in your listening to her for a moment to feel the weight of her words because, for the first time in a while, you believed Lottie’s words weren’t out of mental illness but out of her own perspective truth. You couldn’t help but take in her words as a smile comes to your lips. “Like a psychic medium?” you ask her as you lean toward her with a chuckle. “I would believe it. You always know something before something comes out. Like Rebecca Glassmen.” 

She chuckles as you remind her of the old gossip about Rebecca being pregnant. Lottie says she was faking it to get her boyfriend to stay with her. It turns out to be true after they break up, and her ex-boyfriend tells the whole school how much of a psycho she is. Lottie clocked it as soon as it was whispered at the Lunch table. 

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. When I was 6, my parents took me to the World Trade Center to see where my dad works, and we had a day out in the city. But, on our way back home, we were at this red light, and my parents were talking about something on the radio. I felt this rush through my body. I saw meat and glass and blood everywhere on my mom’s face and my dad’s; I screamed.” Lottie paused as she continued, her eyes glossed over momentarily, and she didn’t seem to notice. You did. “They both looked at me, telling me to shut up, but when I was screaming, the light went green. The car next to us went ahead just as a semi-truck had brakes snap; it was a horrible crash. My mom is convinced I can see things because her mother, I guess, did the same thing. But, um, yeah, the driver of the car survived, but the passenger passed away in the crash, and it’s something not even my dad can explain. My dad doesn’t believe in any of this shit, so he has me go to therapy and take pills to stop them. I wish I had them again.” She says this almost breathlessly, as if she is lost in the present moment but completely focused on your conversation. 

You don’t know if you fully believe in all the psychic talk, but it was interesting. You weren’t completely closed off to the idea of the spiritual realm, but after what happened in the attic, you believe there are things you can’t explain. You tell her, “Well, I don’t think I ever disbelieved in the supernatural. My grandparents' house was scary, and I am sure I had seen something before when I was young. I think you did see something before that car crash, Lottie,” You say to her with a soft nod. She beams underneath this almost gloss in her eyes, and you pause as you carefully place your words together.

“I think that not everything you see has a meaning, but something does have meaning because we place it on them. The cross means nothing to Taissa, but to Laura Lee, it means everything because it means something deeply to her. I do think that sometimes we need to place judgment on them and see if they do connect. I think that maybe what happened to me meant that something within can’t get past the plane crash, like I can’t even get in feet of that thing without having a panic attack, and maybe I can’t move on from it. Like, I’m mentally stuck on the plane. I know that sounds crazy, with us being stuck here, but something within my soul is more disturbed by the crash.”

Lottie nods her head and smiles. Her hand comes to her upper arm as she steps closer to you. You two stand so close together that it makes your heart skip a beat and halt your breath. “I think we should meet in the morning to discuss our dreams. I feel better talking to you. How do you feel?” 

You wouldn’t help as your eyes scanned over her face. You felt her breath on your skin, breath lodged in your throat, and you felt yourself stunted for a moment. You took a moment to get lost in her brown eyes and tan skin. She was so beautiful. You remember how it felt to kiss her, but you couldn’t let yourself feel that way for her. Both of you placed a boundary around your friend to protect it, but at this moment, it felt like both of you were going to risk ruining it.

Lottie just waits for your answer with her eyes looking down at you like you were prey. You felt the electricity in the air between you two as you finally found your words. 

“I feel good. We should.” You breathlessly say to her as you step back against the tree. A cavil memory comes to your mind of when you were pushed against a tree by Natalie. You didn’t want to remember that day. You didn’t want to believe that she didn’t want anything to do with you after everything. But you couldn’t help but lean onto whatever feeling this was as you locked eyes with Lottie. It was something thickening the air around you quickly. You almost felt yourself pull forward to Lottie’s lips by some pressure in the back of your head. 

Lottie’s lips started to move before she could speak, and a snap of a branch ripped the two of you from the moment. Lottie snaps her head behind herself, and you peek over her shoulder to see bottle blonde streaks of hair. 

You felt a red-hot embarrassment come through your body. 

“Hey, uh, I wanted to tell you everyone left- I was just passing through,” Natalie says quickly to Lottie as she looks at her and back to you. You locked your eyes to the ground as a sour pout came to your lips. You couldn’t help but want to cry. 

“Oh- Okay, Nat, me and (y/n) were just talking,” Lottie says with an almost nervous friendliness. 

“Oh, okay,” Natalie says slowly, with a rasp, as she looks at the two of you. Almost a darkness comes over Natalie’s Aura as she looks at the two of you. 

You wanted to sprint away from both of them and cry. You say quickly, “So, anyways, Lottie, let’s do a morning dream circle or something. I’d like that,” as you move yourself off the tree and back to the trail. Your neck clicks as you rush out of your situation. “I’ll talk to you guys later.” 

You literally felt your heart start to pound painfully against your chest as you stormed out of the clearing. You wanted to scream.

Why did Natalie look at you like that? 

Why did Lottie?

What fucking right does Natalie have looking at you like that with Lottie? All you did was talk. All you did was look.  Fuck her. Fuck Travis. Fuck them. Fuck you, Natalie Scatorccio.

You bite your lip in frustration as you look down at the water, praying that something will finally take a bite of food. The river bank was still and smelled of hot milkweed peeking out of the water; the wilderness singing all around you didn’t stop the inner turmoil burning your insides. You couldn’t help but let your mind dwell on Natalie and Travis as they normally did when you were alone. 

What were they doing? Hunting? Kissing? Fucking?

You couldn’t stop the spiral of cruel thoughts. It makes you want to vomit sometimes. It made you resurface every insecurity within yourself and blossom under the burning sun of jealousy and bitterness. She loves a boy, and you're not a boy. It’s that simple. 

You were only for fucking. And Travis was for love and companionship. 

You were just a passing pleasure. 

A simple masturbatory lay. 

She knew you liked her. She knew you were a virgin. She had to know how you felt and knew you would give anything to her if she acted like she liked you the same. She knew you were desperate for a companion. For someone to love you and for you to love them. 

“Natalie sees me the same way she sees Misty.” You miserably thought as you tried not to let the tears form in your eyes. 

Her not talking to you has been getting to you. She would be dismissive towards you, didn’t even look you in the eyes at your morning announcements anymore, and giggled at Travis while you tried to get through your words.

 You couldn’t help but feel little pieces of glass stab into your flesh every time she stole a glance back at him in your presence. Jealousy has been evergreen within your veins since you lost your virginity. 

You knew you shouldn’t be worried about this. Shauna is pregnant, we’re losing food every day, and you miss your family. But Natalie greedily stole all the space in your mind. 

“Hey, you okay?” Van asks from the brush behind you. You didn’t notice her walking towards you with a laundry basket. She only saw your back quivering as you were trying to fish. 

You glanced behind your shoulder at her as you felt your lip quiver. You were going to cry. You try to calm your voice as you squeak, “I’m okay!” 

All efforts to stop her from coming closer were dead in the water as she put down the basket and came to sit beside you. Van quietly looks over at you in concern as she tries to piece together your pain. She gently asks, “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

You felt your lip shake as a tear rolled down your cheek. You tried to steel your face, saying, “I don’t know if I should.” 

Van jooks at you and scans down to your hands holding the old fishing pole. They shook slightly. The pressure of her kind eyes allowed you to vomit out your feelings. 

“I don’t think I am lovable.” You sob out as your face twists into an ugly cry of despair. Your body shakes as you let out your dark thoughts, “I did something stupid, Van, and now I am just feeling so alone because I can’t tell anyone!” 

Van is shocked at your outburst but comforts you with her hands on your shoulders. Your body violently shakes, and you feel sadness come over you. “Hey! Hey! What happened, (y/n)? You can tell me!” 

“I don’t think I can!” You sobbed as you felt as if your eyes wouldn’t stop rivering down your cheeks. You said, “I could be outting someone.” 

Van’s eyes widen for a second, but she quickly says as she grabs your shoulder firmly, “I don’t fucking care, why are you crying?! What happened?” 

You cry as Van’s hands lead you down to their chest, and you feel yourself curl into her arms, crumbling under the comfort. You cry harder as you say into her chest, “I had sex with Natalie.” 

“What?!” Van says, shocked, but as softly as she can manage not to upset you. 

“Me and Natalie, two weeks ago, had sex in the woods when we were alone. She fingered me, and when I tried to reciprocate, she just pushed me away and told me it was all a mistake. She likes Travis-” 

“She told you that just after she fingered you?!”

“Yes! She did. She just told me it was all a mistake. She likes Travis. I knew that when I was doing it.” You sobbed as you pulled away from your embrace with Van. You held a palm to your quivering lips. The weight of your emotions cut out your words. “I don’t know why I did it. I-I knew I wasn’t who she wanted.”

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I’m so fucking sorry.” Van says as she pets the back of your head. She just watches you as you are crying. She is trying her best to calm you down from your helpless sadness. “Tai and I talked about how Natalie was giving you the cold shoulder, and we didn’t know why. Tai asked Natalie what was up, and Natalie said nothing was up and that the two of them were fine. I never would have thought-”

You sniffle as you shake your head, and your eyes close in pain. You didn’t mean anything to her. 

“I meant nothing to her.” You quietly say as you look away from Van. Looking at her in the eyes would be too vulnerable for you. “I don’t even get a good lie. I just get we’re fine.” You darkly chuckle at the realization. You felt a twist in your core and changed the emotion consuming you. A giggle formed in your throat as you joked, “At least I know it’s not because I’m fat. It’s because I'm gay.” 

“What?” Van asks, bewildered but amused at the mood swings. You turn your head to face her again.

“I know it’s not because I’m fat. I was always worried someone wouldn’t want me because I was too fat.” You laugh as you wipe your nose with your sleeve, cleaning the drips of snot. “It’s because I’m a dyke, and she’s straight!” 

Van chuckles softly at your words, but your laughing amuses her. She rubs your back as your laughs slowly morph into cries again. Your hand comes over your face to hide it. You felt much more sadness than Natalie rejecting you, but you couldn’t help but focus only on this nasty feeling.

“I don’t know. I’m hurt because I don’t think Natalie is my friend anymore.” You wept into your hand, feeling yourself shake as you finally released the words into the air. “S-she wants nothing to do with me!” 

Van pulls you into another hug as she rubs your arm. She brings you so close you are almost in her lap as she says, “Fuck that. Nat used you and acted like it was your fault. If she doesn’t want to be your friend, then that is on her and not you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

You paused as you let Van comfort you in this moment. You looked at her and asked, “I don’t understand. I don’t get why she wants nothing to do with me now.” 

“Because she knows she fucked up. Fuck her. I don’t want to leave you now. I’m so sorry. Seriously, I am going to sit here with you all day.” 

You try to pull away from her hold, but she keeps you in her grip. “You don’t have to.” 

“No, I will.” Van says with a stern lip, “I’m not going to leave you today. You don’t deserve that shit from that fucking burnout. It’s wild.” 

You let yourself breathe and calm down as you nudge Van with your shoulder, a smile softly coming to your tear-stained face. You didn’t have any fight in your body anymore. “Okay. Is it okay if we just sit here and look at the water for a while? I can teach you to fish.” 

Van nods and softly smiles, “Yeah-yeah, whatever you want.”

‘21 

You rub your ring finger with your thumb as you nurse your cigarette. You sat relaxed on the small kitchen table of Natalie’s hotel room as you looked out the window to the parking lot, waiting for Shauna to finally show up. 

You knew she was going to be mad at you. She doesn’t even know you’re still in contact with the others. You didn’t know that she kept their numbers. You and her always had some secrets from each other, but Shauna was one to hold a grudge. You normally forgive her misgivings without thought, but she will hound you for weeks about even the smallest withholding of information. 

You felt the chair beside you move as someone pulled it out to sit next to you. You slowly glanced at the woman next to you and looked back out the window. 

“What have you been up to? I heard about that, uh, ‘Blood Oath’?” Taissa asks as she looks over you with a softness in her eyes. 

You softly smile at the words and shake your head as you ash the fresh cigarette. “Yeah, you hear about it.”

“I mean there isn’t a lot of lesbian media out there.” 

You look over at Taissa and say, “Yeah, I’ve written a few lesbian romance troilys. I have Blood Oath and Mushroom Circle about a fairy, and I am currently writing Three Wishes about a jinn. I am finally using my history minor and going on a press circuit. I have a whole panel to go to in a few days.” 

“How has that worked out for you?” Taissa says as she pulls out a cigarette from your box. Something was comfortable with the women you were with, but you didn’t know how you felt about Taissa coming closer. 

“It’s worked out good. I got my dream job, and it keeps the lights on. I think I might be taking a break after this.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m getting old. I’m losing steam over romance altogether. I’m thinking about finally dipping into sci-fi.” 

“I mean, it’s about time. How many times have you read Dune?” She jokes softly as she lights her cigarette. You look at the woman, let your eyes study her, and take her all in. You don’t feel anything negative when she mentions the book you brought to the wilderness. You read it repeatedly, let the others burrow the behemoth, and still found yourself reading it when you were deathly bored. It had something new every time you read. You remember the second spring and summer out there, conversing about the book in an almost book club. It felt light and nostalgic. It was odd, but you didn’t let yourself stop.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same. It could be me correcting all the male centric bullshit.” 

“Make it lesbain somehow?” Taissa jokes with a snicker, her nose crinkled playfully, as she puffs from the cigarette. 

You roll your head back with a cackle. “You better know it.” 

You notice Natalie pacing by the bathroom, but you ignore it. Your attention was off of Taissa, which felt very familiar. These women with you in a closed-in space were something your body seemed to remember as your heart beat faster in your chest. You noticed your fingers didn’t stop rubbing on the other. It was a tick you’ve grown to have over the years, and you looked down on it. 

Taissa looks at your hand, then stares down at your ring finger. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck raised as you realised this is the first time she has seen you without your old engagement ring. 

“If you're going to ask about it, just go for it.” You sigh as you ash your cigarette in a vodka bottle cap. 

“Um,” Taissa looks almost longingly at the table and back at you and asks, “How are you and Van?”

You take a long drag on your cigarette. “We didn’t end up getting married. Van’s mom got sick, and my dad got dementia, and we- yeah.” You sigh. And you felt something sharp come over you as your eyes slice to Taissa’s, and you ask, “How’s Simone?” 

Knock! Knock! 

 A polite knock against the hotel door saves you from hearing more from Taissa. You didn’t want to get any closer to Taissa. She scared you and was a coward when you needed her most. You were too grown to be getting closer to her again and having another toxic cycle begin. Luckily, you have learned how to shoo away politely as possible while letting someone know you weren’t happy with them. Natalie rushed to the door but paused as she held the door handle and slowly opened it to look at Shauna for the first time in almost a decade. 

You stood up as you looked out the window to see Shauna awkwardly standing in front of the door, looking behind herself, paranoid. You took your last puff to ready yourself for whatever was to come. 

Natalie opens the door wider for Shauna to come in. Tension is thick in the air as the two women lock eyes. You look on at them and smile at Shauna as Natalie paces to the other side of the room and towards the bed. 

Shauna looks at you sharply as if to tell you to stand near her, and you find yourself coming closer. With the tension in the air, you can tell there was something more than terror and memories; it was jealousy. 

“You look like shit.” Natalie chuckles, sarcastically,  as she looks on at Shauna.

“Uh, well, back at you.” Shauna retorts with a pinched smile. 

“How’s Jeff?” Natalie whispered in a hiss to Shauna. It was goading and mocking. You knew what she was mentioning, and you couldn’t help yourself as you grabbed Shauna’s forearm gently. “Is he still hocking futons?” 

“Okay, no, no!” Taissa says as she leans against the counters with her cigarette in hand. “We’re not doing this, okay? Not after all the shit we’ve gone through. Now, we’re in a situation here. We’re gonna deal with it.” She paused as she looked at Natalie, then back to Shauna, and then back again to let the air settle. “Together.” 

You rub Shauna’s arm, comforting her, saying, “It’s bigger than our feelings right now.” 

“Okay, fine. What’s- what’s going on?” Shauna asked, exacerbated. 

Natalie walks gently to the table where Travis's crime scene photos are. You still can’t make yourself look at them without feeling a rumbling of fear inside you, still marked with the symbol. Shauna looks over and leans forward to look closer, her eyebrow crinkled with caution. “Is that Travis?” 

Natalie's eyes looked haunted for a moment, water lining them. You wanted to cry when you felt yourself nod, “Yeah, Shauna. It’s Trav.” 

Shauna sits down and looks closer. Natalie says as Shauna looks closer, “Someone stung him up and then tried to cover their tracks.” 

Taissa adds, puffing her cigarette, “We think it’s the same person who’s blackmailing us.” 

Shauna’s head snapped up in confusion and worry. “What? Blackmail?”

Taissa and Natalie share a look, and then Natalie looks back at you. Neither of you got a text about it. “But you didn’t… get one of these?” as she leans back to the bed to pull out a postcard. 

Shauna is completely bewildered as she looks at the postcard. She leans forward, says, “What?” and investigates the rest of the card. She pauses with almost anger in her eyes when she sees the symbol. “No. What do they want?” 

Natalie rolls an eye of frustration, and Taissa says before Natalie can speak, “50 grand in cash to keep their mouths shut. We’re not sure exactly what they know, but we don’t want to find out.” 

“You all got one?” Shauna asks, and she looks over to you. You feel a lot of pressure on you now, and you quickly blurt, “No. I didn’t get one. Misty did, though.” 

“I mean, it’s got to be someone from the team, right? I mean, who else would know about this?”

“That reporter, " Natalie said with a smug smirk. She felt like she knew exactly who had done this. 

“Wait, wait. I thought I told you to take care of her,” Shauna says to Taissa, which raises an eyebrow. She was also talking to the team members behind your back. 

“I threatened a lawsuit. I told her to back off.” Taissa, crossed her arms, defended. 

“Fuck this.” Natalie snaps as she grabs her phone. 

“What are you doing?” Taissa asks. In this moment, you feel yourself rubbing Shauna’s shoulder for your own comfort and her own; she feels less tense as the girls talk. 

“I’m gonna bring Jessica Roberts- great fake name, by the way- to us. And I’ll just say, 'I’m ready to tell my story.'” Natalie says as she starts to form a text with her thumb. 

“No, because if it’s not her, then we are handing her the exact kind of story she is looking for,” Shauna says with a wave of the hand over the crime photos. 

“Shauna’s right.” You mumble as you try not to panic. You knew in your heart that Jessica was out of anyone, but you didn’t like the logic of going to her now. 

“Yeah, Shauna’s right, Nat. Please.” Taissa agreed as she looked at Natalie worriedly and shook her head. She was rightfully worried as Natalie didn’t stop sending texts to Jessica. “Please, just put the phone down. Stop it. Stop it!” Tassia stressed as her eyes started to widen. 

“Natalie!” Shauna calls out to have Natalie stop. 

“Please, Nat, stop it. Please, don’t talk to her!” You worry and come closer to Natalie, making Natalie look up at you, annoyed. 

“Fucking put the phone down!” Taissa hissed at Natalie, who was slowly putting down the phone. 

Natalie tilted her head to Taissa and said, “You know I don’t like it when you yell at me.” She dramatically puts the phone down. 

“Can you get the money?” Shauna asks Taissa. You bristle a little at the question but don’t want to make it a big deal. 

“I’m working on it.” 

“Once you do, we put a GPS tracker in the cash, and that way, we can follow it, and see who, what we’re- we’re dealing with.’ Shauna says, planning out what the mission will be. It felt familiar and quiet; you didn’t know how you placed yourself. “Together,” Shauna added as she looked on at Natalie. 

Natalie smiles at Shauna; a little bit of the hatchet was buried, as they agree with the plan. 

“I cannot believe I’m about to say this, but should we loop Misty in?” Shauna asks the group, and you feel yourself lean forward on this. You add, “Yeah, I think we should. She could track down the sender of the text from a pin or something, and she could-” 

“No. She could be part of it.” Taissa shook her head, and you couldn’t help but scoff at the idea. 

“That’s a little far-fetched.” You say to Taissa with a smile, “She would lie about something to make us closer to her, but blackmail us. That is too far for even Misty.” 

“Well, she did take me to see Travis, but first, she fucked with my car.” Natalie paused to inform the other two about your trip together. You felt yourself doubting Misty at that moment because it was all odd. “Still, she’s been helping me to figure this all out.” 

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause, naturally,” Shauna says as she waves her hand, dry and sarcastic. “Is there anything else I should know about, or does the blackmail, Travis maybe being murdered, and this one playing buddy cop with Misty Quigley just about cover it?” 

Natalie sniffed in response. 

You sigh and nod as you rub Shauna’s shoulder again. “Yeah, that about does it.” 

You feel yourself relax on the sand as your eyes open to an open lake view. It was beautiful. The water simmered in the lake like glitter in the air, making you want to walk into it. A summer breeze gently caresses your face as you gaze at how the sun sets on the horizon's edge. It was pure and something made by loving hands, as Laura Lee once said. 

There was someone familiar in the water. Your mother looked at the sun and turned around, the rays of light highlighting the baby hairs that stood atop her head. “Peanut, come into the water! It’s heaven!” Your mother says to you with a giggle in her throat. She was healthy. She looked just how she did in your childhood before her illness. Before, she let her hair go grey. She made the scene beautiful. 

A lightness spreads all around your body. You feel warmth you haven’t felt in months. Your mom is here, and she is healthy and young. 

You call out happily, “I’m coming! I’ve been waiting for you!” 

You stand up and feel almost nothing around you, not even the sand or your clothes, as you feel yourself strip down to your underwear to swim. 

You walk towards the water, carefree and almost relieved to see her.

Absentmindedly, you glance down at your feet in habit only to find coldness touching your feet. It wasn’t water of a hot summer day. It was frost. You take a second to look at the snow that fell onto your foot as you walked forward; your toes have the white fluff in between, and you notice how cold you are. You look up to see only your mother gone. You're not at the lake. You're on the snow-covered cliffside. 

You hesitated as you slowed your movements. It was your feet in the snow. You were in your underwear. Long hairs came from your legs and even from your feet. As you looked down, you felt something change in the air. 

The stillness of everything wasn’t right. It’s the wilderness. It’s not winter yet. 

You panic silently as you start to look around. It was all tall birch trees with autumn leaves still attached at the tops. Red and violent oranges stared down at you.

You looked down to almost a pond or a river. It wasn’t clear, as most of your legs were now submerged in it. It was all red. It made you shiver when the water brushed against your thighs. 

Laisse l'obscurité te libérer. 

You heard something from within the water. You didn’t like this, and you didn’t want this. The water stabs into you a 

The water was corrupted—something rotten like the smell of eggs and iron. You felt yourself walk across this water bank, fearing something might grab at your legs. 

‘It’s blood.’ you say out loud, as you try lto leave the tainted water. It was death. It was something dark. 

“No, no, no. Mom!” You called out in a panic. Did she fall in? Is it red because she is hurt? No, the whole body of water is red; it was like a vein of the forest. You felt your lips quiver as you struggled out of the water, trip on your foot in the sand, and fall into the water until your knees touched the bottom. “MOMMY!” You sobbed out as you tried to look around as you felt yourself not finding your footing. 

Splash! Splash!! 

You hear splashing in the water before you feel your nose fill with the thick pond water. It tasted as it smelt: “AH!” You yelped when you found air. You tried to move away from the force that pulled you under, only to find yourself being pulled down deeper. 

Your thrash and kick, flailing your arms, as you open your eyes to the metallic sting. Nothing but darkness tugged on your leg, wrapped around like a tentacle of some Greek myth, and you can’t help but panic.

You were drowning, but there was no pain. There was no sting of water in your throat. 

Waving desperate arms to the sky, the disgusting water above as another body is thrown into the water, almost wanting a hand to pull you out. 

As you stared at the body, it was thin, and you couldn’t make out anything to identify the girl whose lifeless body floated down like a rock.

You struggle more as exhaustion comes to your arms and legs and as the being tightens its grip. It doesn’t stop pulling, but you stopped swimming.  

You feared what was at the bottom and who had just fallen into the water. But it was peaceful when you stared up at the translucent water. It was enough for you to feel at ease. 

‘96 

You gasped awake in a panic, a hand resting on your frantic heart. Your body shook as you looked around the dusty, dank attic, and Shauna was lying beside you now, stirring at your noise. 

You felt tears fall out of your eyes without you realizing you were tearing up as you try to push air into your body, you were awake. It was just a horrible dream. 

Shauna stirred in her sleep and slowly opened her eyes, a frown on her lips. “Are you okay?” she yawns. 

You pant as you nod your head. “Yeah, horrible nightmare. I’m fine, go back to bed.” 

Creak!

There are the sounds of someone softly stepping up the ladder to the attic, and a pair of shoes are gently placed on the floor. You see Taissa’s head pointing out from the hatch. She almost widens her eyes when she notices both of you awake. 

“Hey. where have you been?” 

“I had to pee,” Taissa quickly says as she looks to the floor. She goes to her sleeping bag and asks, “What are you two doing up?”

“Bad dream,” Shauna says before you can, stretching her arms on her side of the makeshift bed. You look to Taissa as you try to fix your hair in your grogginess. 

“What was it this time? A Cheeseburger-baby?” Taissa chuckled as she stood still at the foot of your bags. You giggle as you try to braid your hair back to where it was before falling asleep. 

Shauna laughs, “I should have never told you about that.” She looks down to the ground, and worry seems to pass through her. “What am I going to do?”

Taissa’s eyes soften as she slowly lowers herself to the floor to look Shauna in the eyes. You tie the end of your braid to get closer. “What do you mean?” you ask softly, as your eyebrow crinkles in worry for her. 

“I heard that Katie Lindstrom did with the underwire of her bra last year,” Shauna states as she looks at you. She was serious. You just look on at her with wide, concerned eyes. “Shauna, that was a rumor-”

“Have you lost your mind? You’ll die.” Taissa adds with a grave undertone. 

Shauna’s lip quiver as she whispers back, “I’ll probably die either way. I’m in the middle of nowhere, and the Ob-gyn on call is Misty fucking Quigley!” she took a breath as she looked away with eyes in her eyes. You wanted to sob at the way she spoke, and you wanted to vomit at the idea you were going to lose your best friend. You grab her arm and rub it to comfort her as a tear rolls down your cheek, looking down to Shauna’s lap, as she continued her rant, “At least this way I won’t die having my best friends-” she cuts herself off. 

You paused as you slowly looked up at Shauna’s face, your eyes widening as you turned to look at Taissa. You couldn’t speak, think, or move. The information was just not expected. 

Shauna hates Jeff. She doesn’t like him and cheers whenever Jackie and him break up… You couldn't help but look back at everything that happened in your friendship and see the truth. Shauna was sleeping with Jeff, not the whole time, but at least since her hatred for him formed. 

“What… what were you about to say?” Taissa asks Shauna with wide eyes, and she also takes in the bombshell and you. 

For a moment, only the summer crickets' song could be heard. You looked on at Shauna in disbelief. You couldn’t believe she would betray Jackie, but you couldn’t help but be hurt that she didn’t confide that in you once. “Shauna?” Taissa asks again, more momentous. 

“At least this way I won’t die having my best friend’s boyfriend’s baby.” She whispers with a stammer in it from her emotions. She is crying now as she finally looks at you; she feels judged and disgusting. You rub your hand softly. You ask, in disbelief, “It’s Jeffs?” 

Shauna doesn’t say anything as her teary eyes burn into yours, almost begging you for forgiveness, like you were Jackie. You couldn’t help the betrayal that painted your face as tears welled in your eyes, overwhelmed with the truth. She was telling the stone-cold truth. You were starting to accept the facts, but it hurt you to think about what Jackie would say. 

“Whoa.” Taissa sighed as she felt what everyone was feeling. “Okay. I mean… Wow. Yeah.” She processed as she has Shauna looking at her, “But still, Shauna, it’s not worth dying to keep Jackie from finding out.” 

“It’s not Shauna.” You agreed as you sniffled a little bit. You were overwelemingly sad, and your dream didn’t help you prepare for the heaviness of the situation. “Jackie doesn’t have to find out.” As you grab her arm, you quickly say, “We must lie to her. We can’t let this get out. It-it.” You try to find an easy lie as fast as you can. “It was Randy! Randy marsh and you fucked at the party and I saw it! It’s okay! Please, we don’t have to do that, Shauna.” 

“I have a plan, alright?” Taissa cut in, “To head south and find help. So just wait.” 

You nodded at Taissa’s words. We all needed to leave, and the group needed to start being more aggressive with our approach to leaving. You turned your head to Shauna, came closer, and rubbed her back as lovingly as possible. You were angry with her, but she was deeply regretful in a dire situation; you loved her more than any other feeling. “Yeah, please just wait.” 

“Please, promise me not to do anything stupid,” Taissa begs as she puts a hand on Shauna’s knee. You kiss Shauna’s temple, rub her back, and Taissa moves to lie down on her bed. 

Shauna was silent as her eyes dried, her tear-stained face plagued by heavy thoughts. She doesn’t respond to your affection but doesn’t push you away when you lightly push her to bed. You cuddle beside her and plead, “Shauna, I will be here no matter what. I love you. Please, we need to find our way out, and I will go with you to get an abortion at a clinic with professionals.”

Shauna nods her head with empty eyes. “Okay.” She weakly says as she turns away from you so you can cuddle her back. You feel her shaking as she starts to cry into her pillow. She cries softly, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

You quietly rub her back and look at the back of her brunette hair. You feel a shy tear fall off the side of your eye and into your ear. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is you surviving this. Fuck everything else.”

Shauna just cries as you softly pet her hair and hold her shivering body. Taissa looks over at the two of you from her bed, concerned, and turns to keep an eye on them. 

You wake up in the early morning hours with an ache in your body, and your neck is stiff as always. You feel dark circles under your eyes as you rub your eyes to wake up fully. You sit up and look around the room to see Taissa and Shauna still resting. You felt pressure on your blader as you sat up in your blankets and didn’t bother to mess with your undone hair. 

You yawn into your hand as you quietly creep to the ladder and descend. You saw the girls sleeping on the floor, but empty beds were lying about like they were going to where you were going now. You don’t think much about this morning as you peacefully walked out of the cabin and onto your trail to the pooping corner. 

As you finished your business, Lottie walked by with a wide-eyed look of excitement: “(y/n)! You’re up!” 

You zip your pants and chuckle, “Yeah, I’m up. I had a fucking crazy dream.” 

Lottie stands next to you from the other side of the bushes. “I did, too. I asked Van to come with us because her dreams have been off, too, if that's okay.” 

You smile and nod, “Oh, yeah, that's fine. I love Van.” 

Lottie almost dropped her cheerful smile as she furrowed her eyebrow a bit. She quickly smiled again and nodded her head. “Yeah, she’s great. She’s been my best friend since diapers.” 

You nod your head as you try to explain the swing of expressions she made, you walk beside her and say, “Van’s always been nice to me, but since we’ve been here she has been such a good friend to me.” you look down to your feet and back to Lottie,

Lottie nods her head with a pinched lip. She looks away for a moment and then smiles back at you. “She’s a good friend. I’m happy you two have gotten close.” 

You look at the side of Lottie’s face, not knowing where her cheeriness went as you say, “Dreams last night?” 

Lottie looks back at you in surprise. You were looking at her, thinking, and she says, “Yeah, I had some weird ones last night.”

You return to the cabin to find Van and Laura Lee standing around the fire. Lottie nods over to them with a smile and cuts off your conversation to sit in a circle. Van is placing logs, while Laura Lee is placing kindling in the places between. 

You sit down and feel yourself hug the blanket closer in the crisp morning breeze. The others slowly sat beside you in the circling trunks surrounding the main fireplace. Lottie cleared her throat, saying, “Alright, let's start this thing. I had a dream about a talking squirrel, “ She blurts out with a giggle. Laura chuckles as well as Van, “It was saying something about breathing in life and that if I just go with the flow, I would be fine.” She confesses with another chuckle. 

You narrow your eyes as you snort, “That’s it? Anything else?” 

“Do you have anything better?” Van snarks with a chuckle. She looks over at you with a joking look. 

“A little.” You smile at her as you look down at your feet and put them closer to the small fire. “I had a dream about my mom at the lake. I, like, went to the water, and it then became winter. Snow everywhere and shit, in my toes. I saw this lake of blood.” 

“Exodus 7:14.” Laura Lee mumbles beside you; you turn your head to her with confusion. 

“What?” 

“A river of blood is in Exodus 7:14, part of the ten plagues God sent upon Egypt to convince Pharaoh to release the Israelites from slavery.” She says to you, her legs crossed and her hands clasped in her lap. She is trying her best to be here as a spiritual guide, and you are not uncomfortable with her religious lectures. 

“Did it have a meaning behind it? Like, was it a metaphor for something?” You ask her as you rub your hands on your thighs, “I don’t know. It was kinda scary.” 

“It was retribution for the drowning of the newborn Hebrew boys in the Nile. It took all the water to drink and to water their food.” 

You nodded your head as you rocked gently in your seat. “Well, I saw the lake, and somehow, I am inside the lake. I am standing on the shallow end, and it just smells horrible. I got scared thinking my mom fell in, so I looked for her, and then I was pulled in. I woke up as I was being pulled down.” 

The three look on at you with some concern, but Van says, “That was a crazy nightmare. If this is to put meaning on dreams or whatever, I think your dream was about you worrying over your mom.” 

Lottie nods and says, “Yeah, I think you were thinking about your mom last night before bed, and you felt all those feelings. I’ve had a few nightmares about my parents since I’ve been here.” 

As she plays with the cross on her necklace, Laura Lee says, “I think we should pray together. I’ve kept your mother in my prayers, (Y/n). How about we do one together?” 

You felt your heart punch when you were touched by the idea that Laura Lee had been praying for your mom since she got sick. When she told her she would keep her in her prayers the first time, Van and Lottie looked uncomfortable, but you didn’t stop yourself when you said, “You know what, Laura, sure. I think that would make me feel better.” 

Laura Lee beams as she grabs your hand in her thin pale one; she grabs the hesitie Van’s. She looks at Lottie and slowly grabs Van’s, then yours. You look on at Laura and Lottie, bowing their heads and closing their eyes. You look at Van doing the same as you, looking at the other, trying not to laugh and being sincere at this moment. 

“Dear heavenly father, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us; And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. We ask you to look over Mrs. (L/n) and (Y/n) (L/n) in this time of uncertainty and to have mercy on the health of Mrs. (L/n). Amen.”

’21

You sit across from Mr. Taylor as you try to fix your skirt, desperate for a good brunch. You look back up and say, “So, yeah, my sales have been very good this last quarter because my next book-”

“The Three Wishes thing.” Mr. Taylor asks as he sips on his coffee. He is trying to be interested in your life. 

“Yeah, and-” 

“What were the sales? Number wise for books?” He asked you before you could speak. You felt 15 again in his kitchen. Shauna looks on at you with a wary expression as you are cut off, but there is a small shimmer in her eye that you know but never said. Envy. 

“About 100,000 copies, especially because there is this app that younger people like called TikTok, which has gotten much attention for my work. So, if we’re talking about my other books included, it would be about 400,000 copies of them together. It’s getting decent, but when the whole Twilight thing was happening, I had a peak of 1,500,000 copies.” 

“You haven’t gotten a movie deal yet? It sounds like you are doing amazing.” He says with a smile growing on his lips and somewhat pride in the little girl he has known for 35 years. You smile back at the praise and nod. 

“I haven’t had any deals in the talks, but some are whispering about the rights going to Netflix or Hulu to adaptation because romance is becoming a big genre for teens again.” 

“Ta-da!” Mrs. Taylor says with a smile as she presents her dish. Tuna Quiche. 

“Oh, wow,” Shauna says with a nod as she looks at the food with a painfully fake positivity. Jeff smiles, and Mr. Taylor smiles as Mrs. Taylor places the dish in the center of the dining table. 

You fake a big smile and say, “Thank you, Ms. Taylor. This looks delicious.” 

“I know it’s silly to do this each year,” Mrs. Taylor says with a distant look as she turns to the side table where Jackie’s cake and two presents stood. She lifts the two small box presents wrapped with a blue and a yellow ribbon. “It’s not a real birthday without presents.”

The older woman hands you and Shauna the two boxes that are presented. Shauna is trying to be okay as you beam up to her. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor, " you say as you gently pull the ribbon, and Shauna unwraps the small box. You already know what it is, and you want to cry. 

“Oh, god, look how cute!” You pull out a small porcelain bunny. The brown rabbit is anthropomorphic and dressed in a purple dress and a white parasol. She looks to be dancing like a southern belle with a winked eye. 

“Oh,” Shauna sighs as she tries to smile. She pulls out a mother rabbit with babies hanging from her white skirts. It was cute, but it was heartbreaking. 

“Oh, yup.” Jeff nodded as he leaned in, “It’s- she’s got little babies. That is nice. That’s very nice. It’s very pretty.”

“It’s- it’s lovely.” Shauna agreed with a forced smile. 

You put yours before your plate as if you were happily claiming it. “You even remembered our colors. Right, Shauna, You’re blue, and I’m purple, and Jackie was pink.” 

Shauna nodded her head with the same smile. You smiled as you looked at the disappointed Mrs. Taylor. She nodded lightly and said, “Jackie just adored rabbits.”

You just nod as you see Shauna pursing her lip at Ms. Taylor’s comment. It was a mismermory of Jackie. 

Mr. Taylor says as he grabs the pie knife, “Dig in before it gets cold.”

“Great.” “Deal!” 

You smiled as Mr. Taylor placed a large slice of the quiche onto your plate. You looked over to your side for a piece of toast. You weren’t excited to taste this. You could die without eating fish again. 

“Yum! Where did you get this recipe?” You say as you politely eat at her table, remembering how she corrected you in childhood when you slept over. But you know why she needs you here, why you play like you were her child for this hour. “I would never have thought to put tuna in a quiche.” 

Mrs. Taylor beams at your compliment and nods, “I got it from Paula Deen! I just love her, and I wish people didn’t judge her so much.” 

You felt Shauna kick your leg as you professionally held in a cackle. You lick your lips as you grab your mimosa. “I agree. I mean, what are we comparing her to? The KKK?” You lie through your teeth to appease the racist old woman you can’t stomach upsetting. 

“It’s Jackie’s birthday. Just breathe and lie. Just get through this, " you thought as you let Mrs. and Mr. Taylor ramble about how wrongfully she was canceled for her remarks. You wanted to peel your skin, but you bit your tongue. They have always been this way, but at least they were polite. 

There was a lull for a moment as Mrs. Taylor looked on at Shauna, a mix of longing and bitterness. 

“You two have an anniversary coming up, don’t you?” She asked as she looked at the couple pointedly. You glance up to Mr. Taylor, who has his gaze on his plate. You drank the rest of your mimosa. 

“Yup. Yeah, pretty soon.” Jeff answered with a smile. He was in good spirits despite the tension building. 

“Jackie would’ve been so happy for you.” She says in a wispy way, you knew that her Valium was kicking in as as then blinks, “I truly believe that. She was generous that way. And always worried about you finding someone, Shauna. And you too, (y/n).” She added, sending you a small smile at the end. You didn’t know how to take any of the tension as you didn’t in previous years. An ongoing feud only on one side out of grief. You knew Shauna enough to know why she still comes; you come for similar reasons. “Sliver linings, I suppose.” 

“I think Jackie would be happy with my New York lifestyle.” 

“She would be so impressed with how slim you got. You look just like your mother when you were young. You dress up like those girls on Girls. It made me think if you two went to Rutgers.” Mrs. Taylor compliments and aims through your heart like an arrow—one about your mother, another about Jackie, and a comment on your body. Triple digits in one go.  

You smile as you take a bite of your quiche. “Oh yeah, I like to think me and her, and Shauna would go the clubs I got to go to. I went to one with pink lighting and flowers on the wall, and my first thought was, 'Jackie, would love this!’” You thoughtfully replied, as you wanted to bite through the tip of your tongue. 

Mrs. Taylor almost ignores you as her head sways back to Shauna. “You two are a-a better match. You're both the type to be content. You don’t want more than, well,” she stops, continuing now, hearing the anger in her words. You look down as you nibble on your croissant. You glance up to see Jeff looking at you in shock. “What you have?” 

“Um—” Shauna starts, almost instinctively standing up for herself, but she is too shy to continue. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. No, I mean… It’s nonsense all this talk about having it all. The fact is that you can’t be remarkable and raise a family.” 

“And you’re the mother of such a special little child.” Mr. Taylor added to lighten the mood a little bit. 

“I don’t even like my own daughter.” Shauna retorts with a dryness that matched the food. 

Jeff and you hold back giggles as she says that to say professional in this brunch. 

“I don't,” Shauna says again as she looks at you. You knew it was a lie but also not dishonest. You couldn’t help but agree that you disliked Callie's behavior but thought it was too far. Jeff chuckles and shakes his head, thinking it was all a joke, “It’s an inside joke. She’s kidding.” 

BRINNG! BRINNG! BRINNG! 

You widened your eyes as your phone rang in your purse. You quickly turned to the bag hanging on your chair and picked out your phone—it was your publisher. 

“I’m so sorry, I have to take this business call. I will be right back, " you say as you take the purse strap on your shoulder and stand up. You smile to Mrs. Taylor. “Delicious food. I’m excited for cake.” 

You leave the dining room quickly as you answer the call outside on their back patio. You sit down on their pool chair, stare off at the flowers in their garden, and pull out a cigarette, resting it on your lower lip. 

“What is it, Anderson? What's the good news?” 

“We’re underestimating the excitement for the third book. Marketing and Production have called me saying they are seeing the number rise and will print about 100,000 more books.” 

You nearly choked as you lit the end of the cigarette. As Anderson spoke, you said, “What?! What happened?” 

“Well, there was this TikTok edit for your Vampire Annette, and now we are finally starting talks about a movie deal!” The young man beams into the phone and rambles on, “And, that gives you that needed break, lady.” 

You are stunned as you just blink and look at the green weeds. You were lost for words. This was amazing news. You took a drag of the stick and say, “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, Holy shit! You’re going to see a lot of attention soon. I just had to tell you. We will be in touch soon.” Anderson says cheerfully, as he hangs up on you. 

You felt yourself still for a moment and held your phone up to your ear still as you smoked away. You didn’t feel happy. You didn’t feel anything for some reason. This brunch has taken out most of your energy for anything else. 

“You should be happy, you know, not everyone can make a living off of porn.” A girlish giggle says beside you. You felt your lip quiver as you realized why there was a numbness inside of you: it was because this was going to happen. You turn your head to see Jackie in her orange ruffled bikini from her 15th birthday party, a pool party. She looked so small and childish as she smirked, “You know, if I knew you like vampires so much, I would have watched Nosferatu with you finally after your years of begging and begging.” 

In middle school, you three had a movie phase and would watch whatever the other said when you slept over. You pick Nosferatu, but Shauna and Jackie rejected the idea because it was too old, so you all watched Jackie’s pick of It Happened One Night. 

You look on at her as you puff your cigarette, a small smile creeps on your lips as it quivers. “You would have hated it.”

“I would have. But we would have been together.” She says with a cheerful smile, it was like a memory of a memory playing out in front of you. You felt 15 again under her gaze. 

You had to physically stop yourself from letting yourself cry at those words. You quiver, “I would have, too.” 

“If only you said something. None of this would have happened.” She says with a twist in her smirk becoming dark. You wanted to scream with guilt at those words. 

You look to your feet as you ash the cigarette and look back up to see the phantom gone from the pairing patio chair. A stinging feeling comes over you that you can’t shake as you slowly look up to the sky. You let yourself cry, smoking the cigarette as if it would clear the stress. 

“Jackie should’ve been here.” You think as you shakily take a breath in. Your grief, guilt, and nostalgia lock you in place for a moment. 

‘96

Shauna and you crouch down at a Rabbit trap as Jackie says, “I never thought I’d be desperate enough to want to eat a rabbit.” 

Shauna sighed as she stood up with nothing. You don’t say anything to Jackie out of exhaustion with the day already. Jackie continues, “Oh, well… I mean, what even is a rabbit? A squirrel with floopy ears and a pom-pom on its ass? Like why? What even is that?” 

“It’s a rabbit. What’s this question?” Shauna says warily as she walks forward. She seems as exhausted as you as you walked beside her for support.  You stop with them as Jackie moans displeasure at the leaves nibbled on by the clever rabbits that missed the traps. 

“I’d sell my firstborn for a cheesesteak right now.” Jackie moans to the two of you. 

“Can we stop talking about food?” Shauna quickly says as she rests her fists on her hips. You could feel the silent tension of knowing something Jackie didn’t grow inside you. The firstborn comment made you feel like you were walking on eggshells. 

“I think I miss Cheesesteak more than I miss Jeff,” Jackie blurted out. Looking at Shauna, you both chuckled at her statement as she continued, “Is that even possible?”

Jackie sighed as she looked away at the trees and crossed her arms. “No, I miss Jeff more. Fuck. I miss his smell and…” Jackie rants as Shauna walks away. You felt the hairs on your neck standing up when you remembered hiding everything from Jackie. She didn’t do anything wrong. You stand there at full attention to Jackie’s words to not let her notice how Shauna looked hurt, “the way he rubbed his wrist with his thumb when we were holding hands, and I even miss his stupid Ace Vantura impressions.” 

You rub Jackie’s arm with comforting eyes. “I’m sorry, Jackie. I know you must miss him, " you say as Jackie starts to follow Shauna down the trail. Jackie smiles back to you, understanding and loving the attention you are giving her. 

“He must be losing his mind right now. Did I tell you guys he said he loved me before we left?” Jackie says as she looks back to you, and you couldn’t help but express your shock. She just couldn’t tell your shock wasn’t because of the confession. Shauna stops dead in her tracks and turns to look at Jackie. “No, you didn’t,” Shauna replies evenly. 

“Did you tell him you loved him back?” You asked quickly to Jackie. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I-I didn’t say it back, and… I should have.” Jackie says, keeping her arms crossed. She looks down at the forest floor with a mix of emotions. For a moment, all of you pause the conversation to only hear the crowing in the distance. 

“I’m sure he knows how you feel.” Shauna says as she starts to walk on the path, but she stops and says, “Wait. Do you.. Love him?” 

You paused beside Jackie with wide eyes, almost wanting to scream at Shauna to shut up, as Jackie looks at Shauna for a moment as Shauna continues, “I just thought that-”

“I don’t know. I-I just shouldn’t have made him wait, that is all. I just got so caught up in making everything perfect, and now, if we die out here, someone else will be his first, and I’m-”

As Jackie was ranting, Shauna stopped to lean against a tree out of exhaustion. She held her stomach as she took a deep breath. You and Jackie quickly came to her side, concerned. “Shauna?” You yelped as you grabbed her shoulder. 

“Whoa. Hey, hey, hey. You okay?” Jackie says as she circles the two of you to be in front of Shauna. 

Shauna pushes a hair behind her ear and says weakly, “Yeah. I’m just hungry.” 

Jackie quickly reaches into her pocket to pull out her last piece of fish jerky and says to Shauna, “Oh, here. Take this.” 

“It’s your last piece, I-” Shauna tries to say, as you pull out your last piece of jerky. 

“You need it more than me. Here,” Jackie says as she smiles at Shauna to take the food. She doesn’t understand how much truth is in her words. You were sweating bullets at the many opportunities to tell Jackie come up in your face, and you had to resist telling her that Shauna is pregnant. 

“Just take it.” You softly push as you look deeply into Shauna’s eyes. 

Shauna nods weakly and says, “Thank you.” She takes two pieces and eats them. 

You quickly turn to Jackie to lighten the mood, “By the way, if he has his first time with someone else, it doesn’t change you were his first love. And sex is so overblown!” 

Jackie chuckles and nods her head. “Yeah, I am. He will just have to think about me when he sleeps with whatever skank you took my place.” She snorted at her joke. 

You chuckle with her as you refuse to look at Shauna, knowing this hurts her. " Yeah, you were the most interesting part about Jeff, anyway.” 

You all giggle at that joke as you feel Jackie nudge you, “How do you know sex is overblown, huh?” 

You blush as you shake your head, turning to walk away. “I may have been fingered before, but it doesn’t count!” 

Jackie gasps and slaps Shauna’s arm for attention. She quickly perks up to follow you to get more. “It does, too! I told you when Jeff did!” 

“Well, it doesn’t matter now!” You giggle with blush on your cheeks, trying to run away from your two friends who are now pestering you for more information.

You sit beside Jackie, holding her hand gently as you paint pink on her fingernails. “Do you even think that’s true?” Jackie asks Mari, besides her, between the legs of Akiliah, who was braiding her hair. 

You snicker as you add, “I don’t think she is a prostitute if that is what you're asking, Jackie.” 

“I mean, you can’t not be a prostitute if you're offering blowies for 20 dollars.” With a snort, Jackie says Mari and Akiliah giggling at the rumor about Jessica Lowa. 

“Ooohh!” The girls who circle the fire are sent to Natalie and Travis when they return. The whole cabin ground was giggling and whistling over to the couple; you bit your lip as you focused on not painting on Jackie’s cuticles. 

“Natalie and Travis sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-” Laura Lee was teasing with a playful smirk. You feel yourself have to hold in a small gasp from your lips as you try to stop the blurring of your eyes from tears. Dear god, you didn’t need them being together rubbed into your face. 

Lottie giggles and shakes her head at Laura, “I think they were doing more than kissing.” 

You couldn’t help but agree. You wanted to cry.

Mari calls out from the porch, “Hey, Nat, how exactly are you and Flex hunting for out there anyways?”

“I hear it’s beaver season!” Van cuts in with a joke, making you all snicker. 

“Maybe a condom.” You giggle yourself at Akilah’s little joke. You push her knee to approve the joke, and she sends you a beaming smile at the praise. 

“Ah! Sit and spin, assholes.” Natalie says as she flips off the group, turning for everyone to see it sent their way.  When you finish her picky finger, Jackie pulls her hand from your hold, and you look up to see her frowning deeply in anger. 

“Is this why we don’t have any food? ‘Cause you been too busy running for mayor of Pound city.” Jackie cuts into the laughs towards Natalie. You look at Jackie and back to Natalie, feeling the tension building. 

“Uh, go fuck yourself.” Natalie retorts. 

“I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Nat’s always down for a good time, right?” Jackie says with a tilt of her head. She steps down the steps slowly, coming closer. Everyone pauses what they are doing to see what Jackie is going to say, listening to every word. 

“I can’t magically conjure a deer, Jackie.” Natalie says and then points her finger at her for a second, storming closer to jackie herself “But keep talking your shit, I’ll find something to shoot.” 

“Oh. Wow. Oh, you’re so tough.” Jackie mocked as she came into Natalie’s face. “I’m not scared of you, burnout.” 

“No.” Natalie stares daggers into Jackie’s eyes and says, “You’re jealous. ‘Cause your an uptight, prudish little bitch.” 

Taissa runs between the two and pushes Natalie off of Jackie. “Hey! Knock it off!” she says, turning to Jackie, “Both of you.” 

The two girls turn their backs and walk away, Jackie sending a middle finger to Natalie as she storms off. 

“Fuck that bitch.” Jackie huffs as she passes you to get into the cabin. You just sit there in shock. 

You wanted to cry. Natalie wanted Travis and was showing off her claim to him. 

You look to your side to see Van whispering to Taissa, Van’s blue eyes look at yours as you get off the porch step to check on Jackie. 

‘21

You: I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I wanted to know if you want to go to the reunion together.  You: I also got great news from my publishing house and wanted to celebrate with you sometime.  😊 Van: I don’t think I can go to the reunion.  Van: I’m happy to hear about that! Please call me when you can to talk more about this because I can’t stand texting.  Van: 3====D You: Okay! I would have called if I wasn’t in a situation! It’s all good.  You: I’ll come by after the Reunion. They wanted me to give my graduation speech, which I never got to give. I wanted to give you the chance to make fun of me.  Van: I would never. 

When you came back inside Jackie’s parents' house, you were scolded by Mrs. Taylor about your smoking, which Jeff and Mr. Taylor only added to. You smiled and apologised on your way out to go to the bathroom real quick, even with Shauna’s pleading eyes for you to stay with her. You sat on the toilet as you typed a text to your ex-fiance, now a long-distance friend, and you sighed as you felt yourself smile. You knew you needed to speak to her about everything happening with the team, but you hadn’t found the time or the mind to do so. You miss her and want to tell her about your life again, even with how things ended the last time you were together. It felt like something within you was looking for Van’s comfort and her presence. 

You leave the small bathroom across from the main bedroom and enter the hallway, only to find Shauna standing outside Jackie’s room. The door closing behind you makes Shauna turn to the side to meet your eyes. The two of you share a quiet sorrow this morning. She returns to Jackie’s bedroom and walks into it, leaving you alone in the hallway. 

As you reach the white doorway, you slowly step down the hall with a heavy heart. Leaning on the door frame, you look on as Shauna silently stares at the bed. The room was untouched from the day you all left. The white silk of her bed and curtains were meticulously cleaned and steamed, the pink carpet was spotless of any dirt or life, and her vanity was still messily scattered from her rushed packing of her makeup the day of the trip. It felt like her room was stopped in time and space, like the ghost of the homecoming queen was still living there. 

As you shyly walked into the room, you felt like a teenager. It made you think of a good memory of one of the many sleepovers you shared. Shauna went into her purse and started to text someone on the other end. You assumed it was Callie as you slowly came over to the end of the bed in the center of the room. 

 You’re parents were very strict about you going to your friends' houses when you were a child, and they never let you have a sleepover until you were 12 years old. It didn’t matter how many camping trips you went on with Shauna, Jackie, and your parents. They didn’t like the idea of you sleeping away from them. It didn’t matter how much they knew Shauna’s parents or Jackie’s, and they didn’t let you stay longer than 9 pm. It took you, Shauna, and Jackie begging your mother for weeks for her to finally agree that you were to sleepover at Jackie’s at her birthday party, rules being you had to call your mother when you were going to bed and when you woke up to pick you up as soon as possible.  A smile comes to your lips as you remember your first time sleeping over at Jackie’s house.

“You remember when we finally had a sleepover with you guys?” you ask quietly as you look at Shauna. She was now looking at the small dairy you both bought after you were rescued to make cute favorite pages of things you knew Jackie would have loved if she was still around. 

“Yeah,” Shauna chuckles as she looks up from the pages. “We finally won. We've got to all be together finally…” 

You felt sad at the memory, feeling that innocence and triumph were the highlights of your childhood. You felt yourself almost melt into the memories as a chill crept up your spine. 

“Okay, read it back to me.” The sweet sound of Jackie’s was heard behind you. She was young, with pigtails on her crown. Her body was petite and still childish, and she looked on at a younger version of you and Shauna. 

You had turned your head to the scene. You smiled as you saw your chubby self giggling into her fist as she tried to let Shauna speak. “Okay, so I’ll go. You’re Jeff, right?” And then he will nod or whatever, and then I’ll say, “Your friend Randy told me that you asked him to ask me to ask Jackie if she likes you.” Shauna excitedly reads off the notebook paper, her small finger moving along with the words. 

12 year old Jackie blushes as she shakes her head a little, “Just don’t say that I told you that I like him. I don’t want him to think that I’ve been, like, pining over him or whatever.” 

You saw your younger self giggle harder in her hands, blushing at the idea of romance, as you said, “I bet you have been writing little doodles about him for weeks now.” 

Jackie giggles and pushes your shoulder, pushing you back to the pillows. “Shut up, (y/n). It’s not like you don’t pine over Joshua!” 

“Stop it!” Your younger self squeals with Jackie, grabbing her hands to hold yourself up with giggles. You never remember how happy you were as a kid. You smile at the scene as you feel Shauna’s arm brush against your own. She is looking on at the bed as you were. 

“What if he says yes?” Shauna asks Jackie as she holds her tassel pen. 

Jackie straightened her back, “Then just be like, “Okay, Cool… But definitely don’t act like you know I like him back.” 

“Wait. Do you, like, like like him?” Shauna asks Jackie with wide eyes. “Oh my god, Jackie, why didn’t you tell me?” 

All your younger selves giggle and are excited. You feel a tear come down your cheek, and your hand comes up to wipe it. You look away for a moment to look at the smudge of black makeup on your fingers. 

“It’s not your fault,” Jackie says as she sits alone on the bed. She looks at you with her big innocent eyes and looks at you with pity for a moment. “What happened.” She added, to explain what she was talking about. 

“I know,” Shauna says beside you. You look to her quietly as you realize she was seeing everything you were seeing, too. It was real or not real. It didn’t matter. 

“Actually, you don’t know.” Jackie retorts with a pout on her lips, mocking. “It’s totally your fault. It’s your fault for not stopping it, (Y/n).” She looks to you with a smile and back to Shauna. 

Your lip quivered as you looked at her round face. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have stayed with you that night.” You whisper to the phantom.

“But we were kids. And it was awful.” Jackie says again, more calmly and sweetly. A mood swings with each word the phantom has. 

“Why are you here?” Shauna asks softly.

“Why are you here?” Jackie whispers back with a small smirk growing on her lips. 

You both look at the bed and whisper together in the bedroom, so you don’t notice when Jeff enters the doorframe. “Where have you guys been?” he says softly as he pauses at the doorframe, unable to walk through. “You left me all alone down there.” 

Shauna sighs softly as she looks at her husband, and you quickly try to fix your black makeup. You quickly lie: “Sorry, Jeff. The door was open, and I got emotional. I needed a moment. Sorry I stole your wife.” 

You felt a sting of guilt when you knew what you said was truer than he knew. 

Jeff nods his head and smiles softly. “It’s okay. Shauna, if you wanna go, we can go.” 

Shauna doesn’t react to his words or your lies. She walks past him and says, “We just have to make it through dessert.”

“To Jackie, whose light shone too bright ever to be extinguished from our memories. Happy Birthday, baby.” Mrs. Taylor roasted, you all held up refilled mimosas. You smiled widely as you looked at her. 

“Happy birthday.” Mr. Taylor agreed as he momentarily looked up to the ceiling and sipped. 

“Cheers.” 

“Happy birthday, Jackie!” You say with a cheerful smile as you sip your drink, you don’t stop yourself from drinking it all in one go. “To Jackie.” Shauna adds,

“We’re reading Elena Ferrante in our book club, and it reminds me so much of you girls.” Mrs. Taylor says as you take a piece of cake. 

You nod as you push a hair behind your ear, “Oh! Which one? Lost daughter, Days of abandonment? 

“My Brilliant Friend.” She beams happily and looks at you as if you were the smartest person she has ever met. You feel yourself pinch a smile back at the mention of the book. Of course, she would think of Jackie when reading that book. “It can’t always have been easy for you, Shauna. Jackie was just so… gifted. I can’t imagine how exhausting it must’ve been, for both of you, to always comparing yourselves to someone so beautiful and smart. ” Mrs. Taylor ranted as she ended, her emotions painting brightly in grief.  

You wanted to scream. You never knew why there was so much animosity toward Shauna, but you knew that at some level, everyone saw the marriage as one Shauna stole from Jackie. Shauna was living the life Jackie would have had if she had survived. 

“Shauna got into Brown.” Jeff defends with a slight move of his hand. He was over this whole facade. “She’s, uh, the smartest person I’ve ever met. Are-are you a genius?” Jeff turns his head to Shauna to ask. You smile lightly as you eat more of the cake, letting everything happen before you. 

Shauna is stunned to silence as she opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Jeff asks again, “Did you ever take one of those tests? You should take one of those.” 

“I haven’t.” Shauna bashfully looks down, quiet, uncomfortable with everything. You couldn’t help but feel the same. 

“Shauna and I were sleeping together when Jackie and I were a couple.” Jeff blurted out to the old couple. You choke on your mimosa as you try to sit up straighter at the news; a little juice falls on your shirt. There was silence at the table as Mr. and Mrs. Taylor looked on with horror. You couldn’t help but look at Jeff with wide eyes. “Which is, obviously, you know, a shitty thing. But there it is.” 

Mrs. Taylor sends a look to Mr. Taylor as ‘I told you so’ as you put down your drink. You wanted another cigarette. 

“Because the truth is that Jackie was amazing.” Jeff sighs as he looks at the couple, “But so is my damn wife. And she still is. And I may have been an Idiot then, but I was smart enough to see that.” Jeff looks around the table, and for a moment, your eyes lock together, and you give him a nod of approval. He did right by Shauna, defending her but exposing that was wild. 

“And this really is the best Tuna Quiche I’ve ever tasted, Mrs. Taylor.”  He added as he toasted to Mrs. Taylor. 

You just sit still in your seat for a moment as you find your words: “I found out in the wilderness.” You say as you look at the Taylors. As you spoke, you could see shock written on their faces, adding to this scandal. “It was heartbreaking, but even then, I knew it was them being stupid and not understanding the gravity of how it would hurt Jackie.” You confess as you frown for the first time since being here. 

You sigh as you look up to the couple. “Jackie was our best friend. She drank Rum milk punch at parties, and stole your Valium for the trip, and she used to talk about how my arms were chucky. She wasn’t perfect, and I don’t want to remember her that way. She was Jackie. Our Jackie. No amount of years or regrets will change that. She would be happy knowing we all still come together for her birthday; she was humble enough for that.”  

You smile and raise your glass again. After your speech, the couple smiles weakly as they agree, and Shauna and Jeff go along. 

‘96

After comforting Jackie and trying to bite your tongue about Natalie, you decided you needed to let yourself vent for a moment. With a growl in your stomach, you crawl up the stairs to the attic, logging your emotional day. Exposing every secret, every dirty detail of your night with Natalie, how you’ll go to hell for lying to Jackie for so long. You cuddled in your blankets and didn’t look up when Taissa approached the attic. 

She started to unbutton her shirt without even greeting you and paused for a moment. Then, she approached your shared pile of clothes and grabbed Shauna’s white push-up bra. 

“Um- Where’s Shauna?” Taissa snaps to you with a grave tone. You turn your head to her as you put down your journal. You don’t understand why the importance right now. You then look at the bra in her hand at the rough cut on the inseam; the wire was ripped out. 

You shoot up from your bed, “Oh my god! Shauna!” as you run out of the attic. Taissa is right behind you as you stumble out off the ladder. Once your feet find ground, Taissa slides down the ladder and rushes past you against all your might. She was on the actual soccer team; she ran outside. 

Misty spun around to you while holding a cup of ‘medicine’ for Ben. She asked you with furrowed eyebrows, “(Y/n), everything okay?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Misty!” You dismissed her as you moved her out of your way, softly, as she stared at the back of your head when you stormed outside. 

You come to the door when Taissa grabbed Lottie’s shoulders and asked, “Lottie, have you seen Shauna?” 

“Uh…”

“Lottie, have you?!” Taissa pressed harder as you approached the girls, who were already slightly out of breath. 

“I think she went that way. Wait! Uh…!” Lottie stops as she looks concerned at Taissa. "Were- were you outside last night eating dirt?”

You paused as you looked at Taissa with wide eyes. The night with dirt under her nails comes to mind. 

“What the actual fuck! No!” Taissa hisses as she turns around to run into the woods to find Shauna.

 Lottie grabs your arm before you can follow behind her, “Is everything okay?” 

You push her hand off as gently as you can as you say, “No, stay here! Don’t tell anyone about this!” 

You pull away from her completely, noticing how concerned she was about you and feeling touched by it. Then, from a distance, you follow behind Taissa. 

You weren’t in shape before the crash, and you had only lost weight from not having enough to eat. You weren’t doing your best as you panted through the greenery. You were still behind Taissa by a few feet. 

It felt like hours as you ran behind Taissa. She stopped to look around momentarily, and you leaned your hands on your knees as you desperately tried to breathe. You saw a footprint in the moss that led to your left. You and Taissa continued as you found your breath again. 

You two finally find her sitting against a tree with a blanket under her body. She laid out her supplies beside herself. “Shauna!” Taissa yells as she turns the corner of the tree. Shauna is lighting the end of the wire with your weed lighter.

Witch hazel. A underwire. A lighter. A rag. 

You felt your lip curl into a sob when you looked at the broken girl on the forest floor. You couldn’t stomach that this is what you have. You were shaking when you came over to her side, Taissa the other, as you looked over her body. 

“Okay. Okay. Um…” Taissa processes as she sees what is before her; she is trying to stay strong. “You’re not going to do this alone, okay?” 

You nod your head as you kiss Shauna’s temple. “We’re going to be right here for you. I promise. I will always love you, Shauna.” 

Shauna’s lip quivers as she rests her head in your chest. She cries heartily, and Taissa grabs the wire from her hand. She took in a deep breath as she positioned herself in between Shauna’s legs. “I’m going to help you,” Taissa says as she takes another big breath. “If you let me.” 

Shauna pulls her head out from your breasts to look at Taissa, and she nods her head. She couldn’t muster up any words for this moment. “Okay.” 

You rub her shoulders as you move behind her. You lean Shauna into your body as you hover over your back, putting your legs beside her body to stabilize her. All you could muster in comfort was a shaky, “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay, Shauna.” 

Taissa puts up her curls in a ponytail as she then leans down to perform an abortion as best she can. Shauna lets a shakily breath as she leans down on your body and slides to rest on your stomach. You pet her hair gently and feel fat tears roll down your cheeks. You look at every curve of Shauna’s face, fearing it will be the last time you see it. Shauna nods as Taissa places her hand on her thigh to move the wire inside. You couldn’t help but hiccup a sob as you say, “It’s okay.” 

Shauna was panting as you tried to comfort her with your hand in her hair, your kisses to her temple, but she was panicking softly as Taissa inserted the underwire. You hid your eyes into Shauna’s shounder as it shook. You couldn’t watch this. “Okay. Keep going.” Shauna whimpers to Taissa below. 

You slowly breathe as you rub her arms and hear Taissa sniffling back. She cries as she pushes the wire further in. Shauna shakes in pain as an agonizing moan comes from her mouth. She bites her fist as Taissa continues to press inward, and she whimpers, but it becomes hard to hear anymore. “I love you, Shauna. Everything will be okay.” You whisper into her ear. 

Shauna sobs into her fist and yells, “Stop! Stop! Take it out! Take it out!” 

Taissa takes it out as soon as she hears Shauna’s cries. She starts crying as Shauna sits up. “I can’t do it! I can't do it!” Shauna sobs. 

You hug your arms around her shoulders as you kiss her temple. Taissa rushes over to hug Shauna’s waist, and Shauna clings onto both of you. “I know! I know. It’s okay.” 

Shauna sobs into Taissa's chest, “I don’t want to die!” 

You sob yourself as you hear her say that. You rub her back and say, “I won’t let you die, Shauna. You’re not going to die.” 

“It’s okay.” Taissa cries as she hugs onto Shauna. 

And for a moment in those woods, you all three cried like children in each other's arms. Then, you all quietly, without any words spoken, walk back to the cabin as the sun sets in the distance. You hold onto Shauna’s hand as you walk back and tuck her into bed as soon as you all return. You don’t even think about your journal that wasn’t on your bed anymore. 

Taglist: @zhivaxo @h-doodles @homopheli @bigtimesalt8196 @juniperjean @scatorccioz @juniperjean @yaakooi @lottieswebs @juchily @freezinggay @deathly710-blog @ghostoflesbianism @marvelous-wandanatangel @errriiie @anskkks @deathvidal @slutforhotpeople @thursdayygrrrl @day-ziez @evewasheretoday @mayasaurusss @captainbabybear @eleanormall @mommyeater2000 @leonchef @mikititta @tigersarrcool @nyasbae @dykepvppy @jax1118 @oakwave @mmiah @dvrkhcld @swiftin0f @opheliadeservedbetter-27 @psychicdreamwonderland @pinkmoonzzz @under-your-bed-not-in-it @sadsapphic-rose @fictitious-sapphic @gayandfairycore @modernvenuss

[emidescent]

Anti Capitalism Cone

A HDG Microfic. Featuring Forcefem, and a ward who just needs a little push.

“...you're evil" 

“Oh petal, it's really not that bad. It makes you look cute!" 

“It makes me look like a girl" 

“Do I need to say it for you or~" 

“All the stories were true" 

“Only the fun ones~" 

“Just send me to the mines" 

“You want another Minecraft playdate with Lacy?

"... Yes. But that's not the point!”

I gestured to the floor length skirt I had woken up in.

"WHYAMIINADRESS!”

Espirina, my ‘warden’ shrugged, her vines subtly adjusting the pleats of the skirt.

"You kept trying to pay for things, it's a symptom of capitalism poisoning.

So we had to put you in a cone so you couldn't reach for any theoretical wallets." 

“A CONE!?!? LIKE A PE~

I stopped myself before I said something I couldn't take back. I slipped off the edge of the bed and paced around the room.

“A plausible excuse. But as I'm sure you're aware, I'm not wearing pants." 

I stared at her, hoping looks could kill. Or at least maim. Wilt?

“Well you're already wearing the cone. And it's rather fashionable, why wear pants as well?" 

“And the matching shirt?" 

“Ward or not, I refuse to have anyone under my care look bad”

"You also did something to my hair, I can feel it”

She smirked and looked away.

"I did, but you'll have to find a mirror to see what I changed.”

"Well I would.”

I gestured around the room

"But somebody turned all the mirrors off.”

I said, as dry as I could muster.

"Petal… you kept flinching and wincing every time you looked in one, it's for your own good…" 

She looked down at me with a sad look in her eyes.

It was my turn to look away, It was true.

But she didn't have to say it out loud.

"So… what's today's agenda?”

She perked up, taking my hand and leading me out into the main room of the hab. Was she always this tall?

“We're going to be testing out the cone by taking you to a cafe. Also, I need you to take this pill" 

She held out a hand, revealing a small flower shaped pill in the centre.”

" What is i~”

"Open~”

My mouth dropped open obediently, and she quickly slipped the pill in my mouth. It dissolved on my tongue.

It was sweet.

Tingly.

I…

I….

I don't know what happened there.

My cheeks felt warm.

Before I could compose myself I was being dragged outside.

Down the path outside my warden's hab and onto the street.

The cafe wasn't exactly far.

But I wasn't looking forward to the prospect of walking so far in heels.

Wait…

Heels?

I looked down, but couldn't see past the hem of the skirt, and whenever I tried to stick my foot out the skirt followed.

I grabbed at the fabric, trying to pull it up. But it kept slipping out of my hands.

"Sweetie, I know you're desperate to show off.

But I don't think public exposure is the ideal first step.”

My cheeks burned harder.

" S-shut up, I'll make you p…”

My words faltered on my lips.

“I-ill make you pa…”

The word felt weird on my tongue.

" Wha-”

Before I could finish the thought I was plucked off my feet and held by my warden.

I yelped and grabbed at the vines making up her chest.

"Espirina!”

The soft fabric of the skirt pressed up against my legs, and I noticed something for the first time.

"Did you shave my legs!?”

I squeaked out, shivering at the unfamiliar feeling. Deciding the burning feeling on my cheeks was from the embarrassment and NOT because I was being bridal carried by a very pretty plant.

“Yes" 

She looked down at me in her arms.

A new look in her eyes.

A dangerous look.

“Would you like an itemized list? Or would you prefer they keep being surprises~" 

I couldn't speak, she interpreted that into an answer and began carrying me to the cafe.

Before long I was the focus of every passing affini.

I hid from their stares and delighted coos in Espirina’s chest. It felt… Comforting somehow…

Fortunately the destination wasn't too far away.

And I found myself placed at the counter. Staring into the eyes of the floret on the other side.

… She was shorter than me last time we were here. What was going on.

Before I could question my warden the floret squealed in delight and began jumping up and down.

I backed up into Espirina, unsure what was happening.

A  vine shot out of a doorway in the back and jabbed the girl in the thigh.

She slowly settled down from squealing with joy to vibrating with excitement.

“Haha-ha-ha… sorry, I don't often see such a CUTIE! come by. Especially one I haven't seen before.

But… we only saw each other like… a day ago.

Wha-

I looked up at my warden, who shrugged innocently.

“We’ll have my usual mineral blend water and a hot chocolate.”

Oh right, the cafe.

I tried to reach for my wallet, but was met with fabric.

The other side?

Nothing there either.

This thing had to have pockets somewhere. This was the compact for stars sake. I tried pulling the dress up to get underneath it.

But it just slipped out of my hands again.

“Oh, my stars" 

The waitress gasped.

“Are you trying to curtsey?!" 

“N-no! I-i’m trying to p-”

I tried to defend myself.

“I want to p-” 

The words got stuck on my tongue.

I froze, my face burning so hard I was certain it was never going back to normal.

I didn't know what to do.

Fortunately Espirina picked me up and carried me over to a booth. Placing me down inside it and sitting opposite.

I still struggled to think clearly until the cup of hot chocolate was placed under my nose.

I blinked a few times. Looking up at Espirina, and the drink she held out to me 

I took it gratefully, taking a long sip.

I felt the warmth spread through me.

At least… I had Espirina. She was nice, and very helpful.

Maybe after my wardship ends we could still remain friends.

That would be nice.

I kept slowly sipping at my tea, looking out the window.

My eyes caught someone else's just on the other side of the window.

She was so pretty, curly hair, a cute blouse.

I smiled at her, and she smiled back.

Stars she really was pretty.

Maybe I could-

No, Affini medicine was amazing, but there was no way it could do that to me.

I took another sip.

She did the same.

Haha, what timing.

She giggled when I did.

Wow, we really were in sync.

We…

Oh.

Oh

I looked at Espirina in alarm.

“Tha- wha- who- huh- me???”

I looked back between the window and her.

My reflection following me perfectly.

“Yes dear?”

“Really?!”

“Yes dear~”

“you made me look like a gir?l" 

“Do I need to say it for you or~" 

“All the stories were true~" 

“Only the fun ones~" 

“Does that mean…”

“If you'd like to”

“I would… Mistress”

[kinsey3furry300]

A fanfiction experiment: does not knowing which fandom you are reading make a good twist?

I love fanfiction.

But I also love suddenly discovering new things when reading a book. I like being surprised by shifts in tone, genre or style when reading. And the tagging and filtering systems used on AO3 and fanfiction dot net are so very good at letting you know exactly what you’re getting before you start reading, that it’s almost imposable to get pleasantly surprised like that. It's a great system for avoinding stuff that mught be triggering or just not your jam, or for finding what you like, but I miss the suprise sometimes.

So, as an experiment, I’m going to post the following Poll, and a short fic underneath the “keep reading” with nothing in the tags to let you know which fictional world this is set in. This is fanfic, but you won’t know which fandom until you start reading.

Does working it out in real time what fandom you’re in make for a fun twist?

CW for swearing and one obloquie reference to what might be offscreen sex.

Tagging a bunch of my mutuals that I think are involved in fanworks from several different fandoms to see if they enjoy the twist or if this is dumb. Sorry. Feel free to share for a wider audience.

@rain-droplet @zarohk @myheartisbro-ken @thejakeformerlyknownasprince @moonlight-fox @jewishpangolin @sarifel-corrisafid-ilxhel @abigfuzzybear @sillycourtjester @nazguldivorce @natalieironside @eom-02 @flamingswordofdoom @ghost-avian @thisfuckingdork @nice-is-neat @gaykarstaagforever @noeudspapillons @kabukiaku @bunjywunjy

Unpaved road. Barbed wire fence. Montana cattle country, high summer. Car.

The man in the grey suit stood in the road looking at the open hood of the car, forlorn. He took out his phone for the third time and checked. No signal. His expression did not change at this.

Upon hearing hoofbeats, he stepped over and looked, shielding his eyes from the beating sun with both hands.

“Can I help you?” asked the woman on horseback from the other side of the fence. Early or Mid 20s, black, handsome. Blue jeans, Gillingham shirt, scuffed work boots, straw cowboy hat. Faint California accent.  Rifle slung over back, old military surplus canteen dangling from the pommel of the saddle.

“Umm, yeah.” Said the man. No accent. East coast, maybe. “My rental has died on me. Do you have a phone?”

“No signal.” Said the woman, sliding of the horse and resting one foot on the barbed wire, before vaulting over, one hand on her shoulder to stop the rife swinging. “I keep a satellite phone in my truck, but that’s over the far side of the ranch. Here.” She said, trying the reigns to the fence. “I’ll take a look. What seems to be the problem?”

The man looked nervously from the rifle to the car for a moment. “Honestly? Dammed if I know. Darn thing just died on me. You out hunting?” He asked. The woman snorted.

“No, I don’t approve of hunting for sport, and I don’t eat meat anymore. I carry this for defence. Coyotes, more than people. I’ve got foals in the far paddock, and that attracts predators.”

“So you shoot them?” the man asked, sounding surprised. The woman shook her head.”

“I don’t plan to.” She said, moving to the car and resting the gun against the front bumper. The man moved out of the way and down the road a speck, giving her some room to work. “Usually I go for organic controls, this is just for last ditch emergencies.”

“Organic controls?” said the man, confused. He patted down his pockets, then pulled out a packet of cigarettes. He then took off his suit jacket, a remarkably human gesture in that heat. “What’s that?”

“Oh, coyotes and wolves are territorial. You get a large wolf to mark the edges of your land, and the rest of them generally stay away. Doesn’t work on bears, but bears are more likely to spook a horse foraging than actually hunt one. They need to be run-off, but they generally move when a large stallion charges them. We don’t get many grizzlies here, and the black bears wont normally bother a full grown horse.”

The man snorted. “You have a tame wolf, like, a pet? Just to piss on the fenceposts?” the women laughed. “No, that would be ridiculous. You can order pellets online. Wool soaked in wolf urine, wolf or tiger dung pellets, scares off the Coyotes or Cougars. Fresher is better, but thankfully I know someone at a zoo, they sort me out.” She said, looking over the engine.

“Ah? So this is your land then, I take it?” he said, moving to stand in the road, directly behind her, five paces back. Where she couldn't see.

“Yep. Nearly a thousand hectares, half horse ranch, half re-wilding program, down by the national forest. I’m partnered with fish and game. We’re reintroducing bevers next spiring, and I’m very exited about it.” She said, frowning. It honestly didn’t look like there was anything wrong with the car at all.

“Ah. Nice place. Said the man, putting an unlit cigarette to his lips. “A little hard to find.” He added, lighting up with a smile.

The woman paused. She, and there was no other word for this, twisted. Not like she was moving, but like something had suddenly gone very wrong with her spine, just for a second. Then it was over, and she calmly put one hand on the gun.

The man smiled. “Organic controls, so I see. You know, for a moment I thought I had the wrong person, but when faced with a clear threat, you reached for the gun second.”

“There are snipers.” She said, calmly. “You should know I’m being watched by the government, so if you try any crazy fanboy bullcrap-”

“Private first class Macerson and Lance-corporal Evens, USMC scout snipers, seconded out a military unit that doesn’t officially exist, yes, we knew you’d spotted them. You took the time to wait until they were replaced with the night shift, Cooper and Mackie, and then drove into town and went straight to the same bar they always hit up when they’re off duty. I presume you’d been trailing them for some time? Honestly, just confronting them would have spooked them enough, did you really need to pretend you didn’t know who they were and hook up with Evens? The poor boy is quite stricken with guilt, so I’m told. You didn’t have to twist the knife. They watch you, and we watch them. Something in Latin, ect ect. ” Said the man. He offered the cigarette to the woman, who was now standing there facing him, fists balled by her side, looking furious.

“You’re government.” She said. It was not a question.

“Yes.” Said the man smiling sweetly thought the smoke. Menthol, she noticed.  “But not yours. Although I am here with their permission.” He took a long drag.  “You know, I’m not joking when I said you were hard to find. Honestly? I thought the bird would have been the hardest to contact, but Fish and Game have an entire team dedicated to tracking his movements. I was as close to him as I am to you, if you’re wondering. He was about there” he said, pointing to the road “Pecking at roadkill. Not chatty. Marco now, Marco has a fucking press-agent and to be honest, you can mostly find him by heading to the right nightclubs and aiming for the mirrors, and poor, poor Jake, well… if you have the right security clearance, you can not only find him but make him call you ‘sir’. This spot, this spot now… properly of the radar. I had to pull a lot of strings at the state department to even find out about this place.”

“Good for you. Fuck off. I’m not interested.” She said moving to the fence and untying her horse. “I’m over it, and even if I wasn’t I don’t take kindly to strangers coming over and-”

“We’ve met before.” He said, calmly. “Back in the war.”

She hesitated “I- I don’t recall.”

The man laughed. “Well, I did look quite different then. Hork-Bajir host. You ripped my throat out. Worst thing was, I was already in the Yerk Peace Movement at the time, just had the bad luck to draw guard duty right before the famed ‘Anderlite bandits’ raided. Got off lucky, all things considered: Rachel was crushing heads that day. We need you, Cassie, the peace movement.”

“And? We’re at peace, more or less.”

“More.” The man said, sighing, “Or less. The empire is collapsing, Cassie. You’re out of the loop but I imagine you still follow the news. Balkanizing, infighting, the remnants re-militarizing, and there are some very nasty rumours starting to appear form the far edges of the empire about gods-knows what. Members of the peace movement like myself who spent years working our way up the government to key positions now find there’s hardly a government left anymore, and those of us who made allies in the Andalite and human governments, and those of us who keep in touch with the Notlith community have started to disappear, right here on earth. It… it’s falling apart.”

The young woman sighed. “It always does. What’s it to do with me.”

The man looked upset. “You founded the peace movement, we had hoped-”

“You’re not going to find peace by pulling me, specifically, into another war. What do you want? Spit it out.”

The man narrowed his eyes, took a deep pull on the menthol, glaring at her through smoke, and then continued.

“Some of the Yerk Nothlit community here on earth have, ah, some regrets about choosing to Nothlit themselves. Their dissatisfaction makes them prime recruiting material for yerk nationalists who want to re-build the empire, some of them are working with organized crime in Brazil… and there is a rumour that Andalite medics have found a method to cure Nothlit syndrome. Worse, the rumours are true: having looked over their findings from my contacts in the Andalite military, it looks like they are either there, or very close to it. You see the implication?”

She sighed. “Thousands of angry Yerks who want to re-build the empire running amok in the amazon? Yes I can see the problem. Why is it my problem though? What do you want me to do? Go and make a PR appearance advocating the merits of staying a snake? Wiggle a dead rat around for them so it still looks alive?”

“No. Our initial plan was to just assassinate the Andalite scientists that were working on the cure, oh, don’t give us that look. The Andalite military refused to look the other way, so the best we could manage was to get them to evoke Seerow’s Kindness and not share the cure with us Yerks.”

“I sense a but coming.”

“But, someone sneaked a copy of the research notes out, via the Skrit Na, and they made their way to earth. The Yerk Peace movement and the governments of the Unites States and Brazil agreed that on the balance of probability this was a bad thing, and we sent a team into to recover or destroy the data.”

“I’m not doing it. Not getting involved. If some yerks want to un-Nothlit themselves, that’s their choice.”

Oh, no… we’ve already destroyed the data, we believe, the mission was a success. That’s not the problem.”

“So what is?”

“The team didn’t make it out.  We need someone morph-capable to go into the amazon on a search and recue-”

“Fuck off.” she said, re-mounting the horse.

The man sighed. “I could have gone to Jake, I have the authority to just order him to do it. I could have tried to leverage Tobias, he has… personal stakes in this, but I think he’s too far gone for this. I could even just appeal to Marco’s ego, or request the Andalite military sends a war-prince and some special forces. This is time sensitive, so do you know why I’m wasting time with you?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me.” She said.

“Jake, the Andalites, the US government, all told me the same thing: it’s not worth it. The probability of getting them out alive is too low. We’d lose more people trying to pull them out than we’d save, plus the collateral casualties… They all looked at the maths, and decided it wasn’t viable. I need someone who doesn’t look at the maths. Someone who cares about the lost lives… someone who will feel bad if this goes wrong, and hold back as a result. We have a Chee contact in place to run intel and support the op, we have a backup team, but what we don’t have is anyone I’d trust to do it right. Someone is killing our people, ma’am. The Nothlit yerks that refuse to join the New Empire, and no doubt killing a lot of innocent anacondas in the process.  They’re dying. And I need some who is sane, functional, and cares if that stops or not. You’ll be compensated for your time: 2 million, donated to the wildlife charities of your choice, we already know your usual ones-”

“No.” said the woman, wrestling the horse around to leave.

The man pulled out a Dracon beam. The woman cussed and reached for her rifle.

He turned, and quite calmly used the weapon to burn a number onto the nearest fencepost.

“Modulated beam, the latest tech.” he said. “My phone number. I’d try my business card, but I imagine you’d rip it up dramatically. Call anytime.” He said, dropping the hood and climbing into the car. It started first time.

“Why in the hell would I call you?” she yelled.

“Because tonight, when you’re done running around on all fours marking fence-posts or seducing your minders or whatever you do on a weeknight, you’ll wonder just how many people will die if you don’t.” The man said, calmy, driving away. *****

Cassie lay in bed looking at the ceiling for a long time.

“Fuck.” She said, after some time.

There was a noise. Coyotes. You couldn’t blame them, for being killers. It was just what they did.

They didn’t choose to kill others.

She sighed, walked to the window of the ranch-house, and focused for a second, morphing her vocal cords. It took barely ten seconds.

She slid the screen off her open window, stuck her head out, and howled.  The Coyotes got the message, and left.

There. She didn’t have to shoot them, sometimes you could just scare them off, so long as they knew who the top-dog in this neighbourhood was.

Sometime the threat of force worked better than force itself. Sometimes you needed a nuanced touch to your violence, if you wanted to spare lives.

She sighed, and ran her fingers through her short buzzed hair. 

“Shit.” She said, eventually.

Cussing the whole way, she stomped downstairs to the house phone. She did not own a cell phone. No point. This was one of the last spots in the lower 48 with no cell signal of any kind. Every time they tried to build a tower here, an increasingly ludicrous succession of rare birds would be seen trying to nest on the exact spot they had picked. Never a pair, but always a single highly endagered bird trying it’s damnedest to build a nest. Eventually the government had got the fucking hint and intervened with AT&T on her behalf.

Hating herself, she picked up the phone.

He answered on the second ring.

“How many lives?” was all she asked.

“At least eighteen, more if it goes badly. Three morph-capable humans and one morph-capable Hork-Bajir, four yerks, ten regular humans who just got caught up in this mess.  They’ve been gone 24 hours, so we’re looking at Kandrona starvation soon, if they’re not executed first.

“I… morph capable controllers?!” she said, surprised.

He laughed. “Not every Yerk on earth took your offer to become a Nothlit, Cassie. The US government captured some portable Kandrona’s during the war. You’re smart, and attuned to social issues: if the US military wanted morphing special forces, did you not think the CIA would want the ability to finally puppet someone after years of Manchurian candidate MK Ultra bullshit? Sadly, some Yerks just switched one empire for another. Plus, Jake’s toy-soldiers only have so many hours of training per day: if they spend all their time running around with guns and practicing morphing, that’s no time to learn languages or technical data. Four Operatives, each with a Yerk co-pilot to round-out their skillset. All volunteers from the yerk peace movement: went in to try and stop the killing of Nothlits and the un-Nothlit-ing the radicals. Captured. Human organized criminals aiding the Yerk Ultra-nationalists. Voluntary controllers, Narco’s with Dracons and an axe to grind, and a bunch of very pissed-off snakes. Absolutely the worst-case scenario.”

“Fuck. Location?”

“Brazilian-Venezuelan boarder. We have a bug fighter on standby. We can get you to the approximate location to meet your team in…. seventeen minuets.”

She digested this information, drumming her fingers on the phone.

“Is this a trap?” she asked, finally.

“Certainly. But not one I’ve laid, or it would be better fucking organised. They are suspecting we’ll send someone in, they are not suspecting you, or a Chee. That gives us some hope.”

“Okay, and one more thing before I decide: You said you thought you could get Tobais involved, but he was too far gone. Personal stakes, you said. What did you mean by that?"

Pause. Crackling phone static.

“The Morph capable Hork-Bajir is Rak Hamee, Jara and Ket’s son. Younger brother of US congresswoman Toby Hamee, and they are being held hostage by Yerk nationalists to try and leverage us into giving them the Nothlit cure.”

“Fuck.” Said Cassie. “Land the Bug in the south paddock. I don’t want you spooking the horses.”

[solifloris]

約束する生きてても死んでても二度と離さない。

I promise—for as long as I'm alive, and even if I die... I will never let you go, ever again.

aka, another attempt at explaining the nuance in this dialogue that made me cry (it did 😭 it really did 😭)

im saying a disclaimer again that im not a native speaker, i really just study japanese sometimes 😭 so like. again. this is based off of the knowledge i do have, but by no means is it complete knowledge either? SO !!! REALLY if anyone out there esp native speakers see something wrong please correct me 🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲

BUT this statement i feel just really has A LOT OF WEIGHT????

preface; the translation to english again has nothing wrong with it! for reference, "then it's a promise—in life, or in death, we will never be apart." <- which, you can see, is fine on its own!!!!!!!! it already hits really hard!!!!!

but it kinda hits different kind of hard in japanese, bc there's just a tiny bit of nuance that means something more than how we'd read it in english.

to note:

"ても" (temo) — a conditional indicator, used to imply that certain things will stay the same regardless of the given condition. i.e.; "even when (condition happens), still, (action/situation that remains the same)". in this sentence, it's used with the verbs for "to live" and "to die": "ikitetemo" and "shindetemo" respectively. so it forms "even if (i) live" and "even if (i) die", therefore stating "to live" and "to die" as the conditions.

BUT. because "temo" means that something stays constant despite the given conditions... if living and dying are the conditions, then what stays constant? 二度と離さない。(nidoto hanasanai).

specifically;

二度と (nidoto) — for context "nido" literally means "twice" (二 <- i believe is the chinese character for 'two', and is also japanese for 'two' (ni)!!!), and can generally be taken as like,,, "again" or "for the second time". but "nidoto" as a word is always accompanied by a negative form of a verb, so it ends up meaning things like "(verb) will not happen again" or more succinctly, "never again" or "from hereon out, never again".

離さない (hanasanai) — from "hanasu" meaning "let go/release", but negative form because of "nai". effectively this means "to not let go"!

in other words....

二度と離さない。(nidoto hanasanai) — following "(not doing a verb) again"... so, "to not let go again". in other words, "(i) will never let you go ever again." there's a sense of finality in the phrase, but also two things— (1) it's implied that it has already happened once before, and (2) there's a conviction that despite that, it won't happen a second time.

under the conditions of living and dying—whether i'm alive or whether i'm dead—what remains the same is that i will never let you go ever again.

or;

I promise—for as long as I'm alive, and even if I die... I will never let you go, ever again.

you kinda see why it hits hard, right? 😭

it's a more active, action-oriented statement on caleb's part. he's the one saying—and this is before he kisses her—i don't care, the universe can do all the shit it wants but i will never let you go.

he's promising her what he will do. that maybe it's happened before, but this time things are different. because he's going to act.

he's not going to let her go. not anymore. not ever, ever again.

it is a very constant fact, something that will remain, a promise that will remain, whether caleb is alive or not.

so it kinda feels like it has a little more weight in its nuance than "we will never be apart", at least, that's what i think...

ahfjsjf the dialogues caleb has in japanese are so eloquently worded somehow 😭

[sl-vega]

SWEET N' SOUR ! - a scaramouche celebrity smau

-> 0.2; d1 (y/n) haters

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT SCARAMOUCHE?

Kunikuzushi Raiden-known professionally by his stage name SCARAMOUCHE- is often hailed as the voice of his generation. Getting his start in his debut acting role in the hit young adult fantasy show SIMULANKA, where his performance received much critical acclaim-though there was a clear general consensus that "he's certainly talented, but it's clear [his] passion lies else where." As so wonderfully stated by the Narukami Journal. After a huge dating drama with his ex Aether, SCARAMOUCHE subsequently dropped his debut album 'SOUR' to major success and major speculation of who certain tracks were about. Loved for both his relatable music and unapologetic attitude, SCARAMOUCHE has become a household name and a fan favourite for young people all over the globe.

-> VEE'S NOTES

sns! scara is inspired by the one and only miss olivia rodrigo! (naturally)

his stage name is stylized in all caps because he's just extra like that

i was thinking about having him star in a hsmtmts type thing, but then I got the idea that simulanka could basically be a ya fantasy show that he starred in! (cuz he WAS basically the mc in the quest lmao)

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT AJAX TARTAGLIA?

"Executive of the year!" As billboard claims him. Both Scaramouche's child(e)hood friend and manager, Childe-known professionally by his real name, is the backbone of Scaramouche's career. Ever since Scaramouche has transitioned from the acting world to the music industry, he's been under Childe's management following his signing under FATUI Records.

-> VEE'S NOTES

sns! childe is inspired by olivia rodrigo's manager aleen keshishian! (who actually had an article about her called executive of the week by billboard which is where I got the first comment from)

despite remaining friends their whole lives, scara wasn't under childe's management until becoming a singer, prior to that he was under his mother's management (something quite common for child actors)

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT LUMINE PEREGRINE?

"A queer ICON!" as hailed by TVT News, "Taking the world by storm since her (re)debut!" says the Mondstadt Times and "An overnight success 10 years in the making!" According to Billboard. Ever since she opened for Scaramouche's GUTS tour, Lumine has been pushed head first into the spotlight with hits like 'Good Luck, Babe!' and 'HOT TO GO!' quickly becoming a superstar after a decade of hard work and waiting, and it's clear that her newfound stardom is here to stay.

-> VEE'S NOTES

sns! lumine is inspired by chappell roan!

wlw lumine ml

her last name here-peregrine-is latin for traveler! felt very suiting for her and aether

also lmao not scara being besties with his ex's SISTER, bro is trying to sabotage every relationship that guy has

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT SHIKANOIN HEIZOU?

"Respectful about subject matter, educational, AND hilarious all at the same time, what can't this guy do?" Writes RITOU Insider. Heizou's a well loved content creator for the reason. Host of the ROTTEN MELONS podcast where he discusses all things true crime, his quick wit yet sense of decorum when discussing all of the cases makes him a favourite, both in and out of his fanbase.

-> VEE'S NOTES

sns! heizou is inspired by stephanie soo and matpat on yt!

he mainly dabbles in true crime stuff like stephanie, but I can see him occasionally doing theories like matpat does when he feels like it

rotten melons is a nod to the og rotten mangos podcast! (the melons part come from the lavender melons in inazuma!)

-> WHAT DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT CHARLOTTE GAGNEPETIT?

"Hi! I'm Charlotte Gagnepetit! I'm both a journalist for TVT News, and the owner of the STEAMBIRD, my person YouTube channel. One way or another, you've probably seen something of mine whether you realize it or not. Maybe you've read an article I've written, or you've seen me talk about one or two problematic celebrities, either way, I hope you continue enjoying my stuff!" -Charlotte, TVT News

-> VEE'S NOTES

please tell me you guys also think it's smart that Charlotte wrote her own intro...

like c'mon with me taking quotes from in universe news sources and her literally being a WRITER for one of those-

anyways sns! charlotte is inspired by those YouTubers that usually make video essays about celebrity drama, and I got the idea to make Charlotte one from cococrazy on YouTube! (she mainly covers other content creators though)

her and heizou collab a lot

-> WHAT'S DOES EVERYONE SAY ABOUT LYNETTE HEARTH?

Formerly the other half of a sensational teen idol duo with her twin brother, Lynette actually never wanted to be in the spotlight. Despite being a fairy successful child actress and idol with her brother, Lynette shied away from the bright lights of success in favor of a more behind the scenes type role. She moved to Broadway just like Lyney did, but to rather write musicals and help create them, instead of being one the star in them. After her success on the stage, she was eventually signed to FATUI Records and became a composer, and helping a certain pre-debut Scaramouche on SOUR, clearly being credited as his main creative partner.

-> VEE'S NOTES

sns! lynette is inspired by daniel nigro, and if you don't know, he's the composer who helped olivia on both sour and guts!

her and lyney are also partially inspired by the olsen twins! (with their twin actor thing going on)

additional notes:

PROFILES ARE DONE

THEY ARE HERE AND THEY ARE GLORIOUS

took me a while but @dreadfulcannotexplainsituations FINALLY has the opps

(LMAO the GC name is more of a joke poking fun at scara, they're nice guys DW)

anyways, as per usual, taglist is open, lmk if you wanna be fans!

this time let me know if you want to be scara DEFENDERS, venti has enough haters and I need people who actually like him

˚୨୧⋆｡ synopsis:  the bright lights of fame and fortune aren’t for everyone, and you’re starting to think you’re part of that majority. You just can’t seem to catch a break! Every movie you’re in goes straight to DVD, every album you drop just barely gets any streams. From child star to sub par popstar, it seems clear that the world has some kind of vendetta against you and you love to blame it on a certain rising musical sensation; Scaramouche. Thanks to your godforsaken luck you happened to go out with the wrong guy at the wrong time because he just so happened to be Scaramouche’s ex, next thing you know you wake up to truck loads of death threats, your record label dropping you, AND a whole album labelling you as the ‘other woman’! After what seemed like a never ending onslaught of straight bullying and harassment, you had long since retreated from the limelight, the only thing left from your music career being ever so occasional covers on YouTube that only your few close friends watched religiously. However, after writing a heartfelt original piece and uploading it from your humble bedroom, it goes viral! A single song has thrusted you head first into stardom once more, and face to face with the person you ruined it for you.

<- prev ll masterlist ll next ->

🍬 (open) taglist: @shrii-kk @freyao7 @analiee6 @thetwinkims @bellflower1257 @blvdmrcnry @bloukoup @yuan1819 @yourstrulymauki @fungaltoehehe @enrions @atlatcaheart @mywillt0live @myeomiz @adornavia @automaticpatroltragedy @scaraenthusiast1 @sesamemin @syunifu @blueberrybxba @fishii28 @a-sorrowful-tune @emvss @jiminscarmex @mwaiu @lloversss @d4y-dr3am3r @usagiarchive @idaissupercool @raytoebiter @lizzie-harper @anqelkoz @blue-moonies @lalalaloveallmydays @jinjjjia @ysabelyaps @zuhahearts @adres-tia @reivelmin @nxsh30 @strwbrrybbpop @infevious @somkiii @heusalettle @eternallykira-143 @animeobsessed56 @ssetsuka @zenless-sys @szvirm @starringkoi @itsjustmillie

[triptychgardener]

thank you for early june by the way and and also for being one of the like. three people total other than me who believe in transfem eridan

Look I do fully believe that the worst people among us can, with personal effort, attain goodness and greatness (becoming a transgender woman).

In all honesty I think taking transfem Eridan seriously is, I don't know, sort of important? In the face of March Eridan.

Lots of good ink has been spilled about the transfeminine femboy dichotomy and I don't think I have the ability to replicate the nuances of such things. But like, historically, there has been a category of person, assigned male at birth but feminine presenting to some degree or another, who exists not really as their own person, but instead as an idealized joke/sex object in the minds of men and other people who sexually exploit them. This figure, in the cisheteropatriarchal is a completely apolitical one. You can have sex with them and it doesn't count as gay. They don't have political demands, like "asking to be called women." They are a titillating deviation with no ability to harm the status quo. In today's terms, they are commonly given the dubious title of "femboy" or "trap", but if we look elsewhere, (I will be apologetically butchering the writings of transfeminist Thalia Bhatt) we can see this pattern of third-gendering in places across the world, with women like the feminiello in Naples, hijra in Inda, as well as others. A type of person assigned male at birth, presenting female, who has a particular gendered role in a binary-gendered society, that of being a usually disposable sexual object, occasionally given some light ceremonial or religious airbrushing to disguise the fact that such people are not a part of "normal", life. They are without an internal perspective, denied opportunities to live a life outside of a typically male sexual perspective.

But trans women? If someone is a trans woman, they usually have political demands, a desire for bodily autonomy, and the desire to actually be treated and referred to as women. And when a "femboy" turns out to have been a trans woman all along, well. Just look at how much everyone was talking about the streamer F1nnster when she was just doing a funny crossdressing bit for a person who paid her to do it, how many posts about "cis+ genderfuck crazy gender" versus when she actually came out as trans. This phenomenon works backwards too, with plenty of transfem sex workers having to tag their sex work as femboy to gain traction. There's a clear distinction here if you care to look.

I think Eridan dying in the story where she did was a good thing for the story (same with the rest of the Murderstuck deaths.) In a world with 5000 "fantasy racist learns to become lest racist" plots, having the fascist no one takes seriously Actually Follow Through and do the horrible things his ideology clearly incentivizes him to do is refreshing (also Hussie correctly predicting that the Harry Potter themed character would, in fact, be a fascist). But if one is to continue on, and have Eridan choose to deradicalize herself, then I think making her become a woman as she gets older is one of the only ways forward.

So. That's a lot of fucking words of transfeminism, and why the fuck am I applying to to Eridan Ampora, known dead fascist 13-year old fish from a webcomic? I'll admit it's a tad frivolous, but March Eridan, the fandom concept, flourished in that fun period of the 2010s where everyone was asking if traps were gay (got to hear that said by one of my high school friends, and I was out as a woman at the time.) Not to say it ever really went away, but, like, the whole joke (not putting this on Paige Turner, the original creator of March Eridan, this is just how the fandom ran with it) was just "hey look at this boy in a skimpy miniskirt and tube top and pigtails! Isn't this funny/a good excuse to draw a child barely in his teens in a sexy way?" Not like the fandom really needed an excuse, but I think, to a point, transfem Eridan is kind of the only way to go from there. Turn him into an actual woman. Put aside all the jokes, and make her transfemininity something you have to take seriously, something she has thoughts and feelings about!