#but the truth is that in general you find friends who are in your stage of life

[olivieblake]

Hey Olivie!! Hope you’re well :)

I have loved and followed your big sis advice for years now, and I could use some of it now.

I have always been the kind of individual who has really close 1:1 friendships, but has always yearned for a friend group. I’m in my second year of college, and last year, I finally felt belonging with a group of people, but all of them are seniors and have graduated. I know I am a loved human being, but a lot of the people I love most are long distance now, and I feel lonely in my day-to-day life. I always have seemed to get along with people older than me, but my mom put it bluntly: I need friends my age. I can get along with anyone, but in terms of choosing who I actually click with and invest in, it is very few people. My friends who graduated were all individuals who had similar vibes and energy as me—we enjoyed art, philosophy, and just being silly together. Even now, I’ll look for people with similar interests, but it just doesn’t click. I wish I had something more concrete to go off of—I like a lot of people, but I wouldn’t call them “my people”. I found one girl I really click with, but she’s super flaky and doesn’t seem reliable. I want to love deeply and be loved back deeply, to choose and be chosen.

I’d love to hear your two cents on this. How have female friendships blossomed for you? Am I being too picky or judgemental? Am I doomed to be a floater, a social nomad never belonging to anyone?

Anyways. Thanks! Love you. Boutta reread masters of death, it’s that time of year.

man, I won't lie, finding and maintaining meaningful friendship has been harder in my personal experience than romantic love. there honestly shouldn't even be a distinction! it's a difference of texture, not process. finding someone you vibe with and can be vulnerable with and can trust with your intimacy and tenderness and care and also rely on even though there is no social protocol for friendship the way there is for romantic partnership is a real mind-bender. I think it just depends on how you choose to prioritize your relationships, energy, and time. finding friends is hard, especially if you're coming from a group that already had its own dynamic and fabric, but it just comes down to being open to connection and valuing people for what they bring to your life, even if it's just the possibility of something bigger. be open, be honest about yourself and your passions, and that will take you pretty far, but also, genuine connection is rare. which means it might be hard to find (that's the bad news) and you should nurture it when you have it (that's the actionable item). I meet smart, funny, kind, thoughtful, interesting women all the time, but my openness to them is often what determines the difference between friendship and acquaintanceship.

"I want to love deeply and be loved back deeply, to choose and be chosen" is a great way to put it, and something to hold onto, because knowing what you want is a great first step to being able to make the choices to honor it

[ham1lton]

I’LL BE THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS (MAYBE??)

pairings: oscar piastri x stan account!reader

warnings: none?

faceclaim: pam hughes / pamalaaam on ig.

summary: it is a truth universally acknowledged that a fast driver must be in want of a girlfriend—oscar piastri just didn’t expect his to be a twitter menace.

author’s note: jam is just a nickname that yn goes by online, which is good for security on the internet. stay safe kids !

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend and 20,838 others.

yourusername: girl date w/ bffname. jam, books and the winter air. what could be better?

view all comments

user1: WAHT?!

— user2: omg she wasn’t joking she’s actually that gorgeous.

user3: sorry you’re so pretty i’m taken aback. i assume that all ppl who argue online r hideous trolls but you’re clearly not. sorry. i apologise.

user4: did u buy your namesake?

— yourusername: ofc!! spent my paycheck on new ones. i’m the proud mama of two strawberry jams 😽

user5: LANDO LIKED YOUR POST

user6: literally drop the skincare routine rn or i’m calling the authorities.

– yoursername: genetics + water + spite <3

user7: girl what books did u get i need the haul

– yoursername: east of eden, the glass castle and some other classics!! i’ll post a proper vid later if you’d like <3

user8: lando liked… HE’S WATCHING.

– user9: he’s been watching. oscar is shaking.

user10: okay but imagine arguing with someone online and then finding out they look like this. i’d delete my account.

– user11: user3 already went through all five stages of grief in these comments.

user12: winter air is nice and all but i feel like oscar should be here warming you up just saying!!

friend: girl date and no invite?! feeling betrayed rn …. 😓

— yourusername: ur in australia but i apologise. we should have walked through land and sea. next time i see u i owe u a matcha for the trauma babe 😞

— friend: a decent apology. i accept it 😽

user13: she fights, she reads, she stuns… what CAN’T she do?

– yoursername: parallel park.

user14: not me zooming in to confirm this isn’t an ai-generated model.

– yoursername: sorry to disappoint, i’m very real and very chronically online.

user15: OSCAR GIRLIES R HOT WBK <3

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

from: mclaren racing team@mclaren.com

to: jam jamdoesf1@gmail.com

subject: you’re invited – race weekend with mclaren

hi jam,

we hope you’re well. we’ve been following your incredible f1 content and couldn’t help but notice your… passionate defence of a certain quiet australian. it’s safe to say the team (and the driver in question) are fans.

we’d love to invite you to join us for the upcoming grand prix weekend as our guest. paddock access, behind-the-scenes moments, and yes – proper tea and snacks included.

let us know if you’re available and we’ll sort everything on our end, including travel and accommodation. we think you’ll have a lot of fun.

looking forward to hearing from you.

cheers,

the mclaren team.

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and 45,838 others.

yourusername: hotties make some noise! (all u haters that say matcha tastes like grass r BABIES!!!)

view all comments

user1: i would recognise my goat’s hand anywhere… by touch alone, by smell; i would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. i would know him in death, at the end of the world.

— user1: my boo bear. my king. my reason. my oscar.

— user2: lando get off ur burner.

— user3: ICB LMFOAJDHEISJDN ?!38393&:

user4: jam ily. u taste good in matcha too. multi-use queen <3

*liked by yourusername.*

alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous girl 🤍 lovely meeting u!!!

— yourusername: says the most gorgeous girl in recorded human history. omg blushing rn 😝

user5: u could say cement tastes good and i’d try it.

user6: jam you’re so fine it’s honestly starting to feel like a personal attack

user7: OSCAR DATING AN F1 OBSESSED GIRL YASSSSS

— user8: me and jam as the mclaren wags. i can see it now.

user9: the middle pic is giving “soft launch��� and i’m spiraling

— yourusername: it’s giving “he paid for the matcha so i had to post him”

user10: is ur name really jam?

— yourusername: not legally or professionally or personally but yea :)

user11: the way jam is so unhinged on twt but is the sweetest ever on ig needs to be studied….

— user12: like on twt when she threatened to pull up on that guy who was saying awful things about oscar and he deactivated all his socials??? vs on ig where she goes to farmers’ markets like a granny 😭

user20: if oscar doesn’t soft launch you back i’m rioting

— yourusername: pls i’d settle for him texting back within 3-5 business days

— user21: NOT OSCAR FUMBLING BAD BITCHES NOOOO

— user22: @/oscar GET UPPPPPP!!!!!

— user23: WTFFFFFFFFF STOP THIS MADNESS @/oscar

— user24: if i had a baddie like this i would do anything she asks… jam says jump? i say how high… oscar u need that energy NOW!!!!

────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ──────

[wasyago]

Please more Trail's gone cold au I'm begging you I need it just pour out every thought in your brain I want to hear it

hgdhhfbd i mean, sure why not

everything plot related is in the main post, there's nothing else really to tell. but i could share random details that didn't really fit into the lore drop. again tho, it's a small au and mostly an exploration of the concept, so there's not a lot.

❄️ gem and etho are siblings, i don't think it was mentioned anywhere? blood related and all that, they both have black hair, gem just dyes hers.

❄️ behind the scenes reasons for the order of deaths. generally i picked these three to be the main cast because i suddenly realized pet crew were just dungeon master and his two winners, and that was too crazy of a concept to not do anything with? so, tango as the main guy and actual master of the dungeon had to die first, seeing how he's the cave's favorite. pearl as the main explorer and as the one to unlock all the secrets had to die second, because she had to return to the dungeon / the cave to find out the truth, and she conquered it but never actually got out. and etho had to survive, because he's the "proper" winner and the one who actually escaped the dungeon with treasures.

❄️ lore reasons for the order of infection. tango you already know, but pearl and etho went in at the same time so in theory they had to start experiencing the effects together. but because etho was wearing a mask it did lessen the amount of sculk he inhaled, slowing down the process. wear masks kids!

and, well, you did say you wanted to hear every thought so. i really like the plot point of them leaving tango to die, so im gonna ramble a little about it. even just, the difference in their views on the situation is so satisfying to me. because tango had no idea something scary was happening to him! and for pearl and etho it was a life or death situation. and just-- they were talking about leaving tango and tango obviously, obviously, protested, because what the actual hell??? yes okay he's ill and a burden, but don't leave an ill guy to freeze to death in a cave, what is wrong with them????? or, okay, what is wrong with etho, pearl was against the idea. but, straight up tango did not plan for it to end this way, he had his whole life ahead of him and so many things ha still wanted to do! of course he cried when they left, what else was he supposed to do? thank etho for his awesome decision? be all cool and stoic and sacrifice himself? hell no, he didn't want to die, he never asked for this.

he did die tho, so. whomp whomp 🎺... i imagine he passed before pearl and etho even reached the stairs, so at least he didn't suffer for long. if he had a breakdown about being left alone he probably hyperventilated and inhaled like a ton more sculk, so that killed him even faster. must've sucked tho...

and then pearl, god, pearl.... she didn't encounter any dangers on the way back, since she wasn't trying to escape and the cave had no reason to be hostile towards her. but seeing how she was at the last stage before turning... she probably didn't get to tango before collapsing... not dying just yet, but too feverish and too weak to walk. but if tango was already back, he could very much go and find her. can you imagine the pure horror of drowning in your regrets as you slowly die and then having your supposedly already dead friend appear in front of you all cheery and oh so wrong. i dont know how much of tango is left in that thing, but the image of him sitting by pearl and holding her until she dies is so-- its haunting but it's sweet. and then there's still enough time to catch up with etho.

actually, gahhhh, all three pet povs are their own unique horror story and it's so good.

the horror of having to go through this terrifying experience, and then being the only survivor, knowing full well that the only reason you lived is because you left your friends to die, and there's no way of fixing it now.

the horror of everything falling apart around you because of miscommunication, and then the one time you decide to do it right you end up regretting every single decision and witnessing the direct result of your mistakes come for you.

the horror of being stupid... the horror of losing all control over your life and being betrayed in the moment of your most vulnerability, dying fully and utterly helpless.

this au is so sad but i love it so much...

okay wow that's enough for one post, ask more if you want tho!

[rainydetectiveglitter]

I know I already made a post about part of fortune... but here's another

Looking at friends chart and my own I'm thinking like damn how do these people get away with some of this sh*t. Fortune to me isn’t just where you’re lucky but also where you use people, manipulate situations, and dodge accountability. It’s the house where things magically work out for you, but also where you take advantage without even realizing it. Where people may turn a blind eye. I did for many people and now i see, now i see lol. It’s where the universe hands you golden opportunities, and where you take without even realizing.

How do You Use Your Luck? Use it wisely.

Fortune in the 1st House (Aries) – Everything just works for you. You walk into a room, and somehow, people want to help you, follow you, or give you what you want. But here’s the problem: you start thinking it’s all you, like you deserve this magic. You take credit for your luck while looking down on people who have to actually struggle. And if someone calls you out? You’ll gaslight them into thinking they’re just jealous.

Fortune in the 2nd House (Taurus) – You attract wealth, security, and stability like it’s nothing. But do you share? Do you acknowledge the people who helped you get there? No. You hoard. You keep your fortune close, act like you earned every penny with pure hard work, and ignore the fact that some people don’t get these lucky breaks. And if you do give? It’s just enough to look generous not enough to actually lose anything.

Fortune in the 3rd House (Gemini) – Your words get you everything. People believe you, love you, and listen to you until you don’t want to deal with consequences. Then? You vanish. You talk your way out of accountability, make people doubt their own memories, and keep so many different narratives going that no one can pin you down. If someone actually catches you? You just find a new audience.

Fortune in the 4th House (Cancer) - You’re the one in the family who gets away with everything. Maybe you were spoiled, maybe you were protected, but either way you always land on your feet. When things go south, you retreat into nostalgia, playing the “but I had it rough too” card while conveniently ignoring how much you’ve benefited from family connections. And if family doesn’t save you? Someone else always does.

Fortune in the 5th House (Leo) – You shine, you charm, you win. Love, attention, creativity it all flows to you effortlessly. But here’s the ugly truth: you take people’s admiration for granted. You treat love like a stage where you are the star, and once the excitement fades? You’re on to the next admirer. You drain people of their energy, their love, and their adoration, and when they ask for something real? You’re suddenly too busy.

Fortune in the 6th House (Virgo) – You act like you grind for everything, but let’s be honest things fall into place for you way more than you admit. You get lucky breaks at work, people step in to help you, and your “hard work” always pays off faster than others’. But you downplay your fortune, making it seem like you’re suffering when really, the universe hands you shortcuts left and right.

Fortune in the 7th House (Libra) – You always find the right people to align with. Partners, friends, business allies they boost you, support you, and open doors for you. But when things go south? You play the victim while sliding right into another convenient relationship. You never really lose because someone is always there to catch you. And deep down, you know it.

Fortune in the 8th House (Scorpio) – Other people’s resources always seem to find their way to you inheritances, business investments, or even emotional energy. You take, you transform, and you come out stronger. But do you ever acknowledge the cost? No. You make it seem like you earned it all, even when half your success comes from absorbing what others built. And when someone wants something back? You act like they’re greedy.

Fortune in the 9th House (Sagittarius) – You move through life like doors are always open for you and they are. Travel, education, opportunities just appear in your path, but instead of acknowledging your privilege, you act like you’re just naturally wise and worldly. You preach about freedom while ignoring the fact that some people don’t have the same safety net. And when people point it out? You call them close-minded.

Fortune in the 10th House (Capricorn) – Your reputation is golden. You climb the ladder, gain respect, and somehow always land in positions of power. But let’s be real you know how to manipulate public perception. You know exactly what to say, who to align with, and when to disappear. You make sure people see your success, but never the shortcuts, favors, or quiet assists that got you there.

Fortune in the 11th House (Aquarius) – You collect people like pawns, always keeping a circle around you as a buffer. You never face confrontation alone there’s always a friend, a group, or an audience to shield you. The second someone corners you one-on-one? You run. You ghost. You change the subject. Your luck in friendships means you never truly lose, but it also means you never truly own up either.

Fortune in the 12th House (Pisces) - Life always gives you a way out. You slip through the cracks, avoid accountability, and somehow, people forgive you even when they shouldn’t. You play the misunderstood soul, the tragic figure, the one who just can’t help it. And people buy it over and over again. No matter what happens, you fade into the background just long enough for people to forget.

There are some people I need to thank, how about you?

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Idk if someone has said this before but i find it weird how the fandom insists upon Malleus dynamic with Yuu being one of his core character traits yet he barely interacted with Yuu throughout all of book 7 and doesn’t even speak to yuu in the end of the book either.

Looking back on it, Malleus barely interacts with Yuu in the main story:

Prologue and Book 1 (September) - No Malleus appearance or notable interaction(s) with Yuu.

Book 2 (October) - First meeting with Malleus. He indicates that he is disappointed that Ramshackle has residents now and that he’ll have to find other ruins for his nightly walk. Malleus refuses to give Yuu his name and vanishes promptly after giving Yuu permission to call him by a name of their choosing.

Book 3 (November) - Yuu bestows the Hornton/Tsunotarou nickname onto Malleus. They share the deal they made with Azul; Malleus imparts wisdom onto Yuu that helps them discover the truth to the golden contracts. He also encourages Yuu to keep fighting for their dorm.

Book 4 (December) - No direct encounter with Malleus. Instead, he sends a holiday card to us via Lilia.

Book 5 (spans January to February) - Malleus teases Yuu about how he did not get a response to his holiday card. Yuu then gives Malleus a VDC/SDC ticket, which he is excited about (since it is an invite). He asks if Yuu will be participating in it, but says “Pity” when he learns they are only a manager. Malleus and Yuu meet again after Vil’s OB. He reveals his name and identity, but Yuu continues to call Malleus by their nickname for him. Malleus restores the destroyed stage as a blessing to the team.

Book 6 (February) - Malleus appears at the beginning and end, but does not have direct interactions with Yuu. He provides some information to other characters, restores Vil, and then curiously observes the other dorms reuniting with their respective OB boys. However, there is a scene in which Malleus stands in a destroyed Ramshackle dorm and remarks: “I was disappointed at first when Yuu started living here […] It's the strangest thing, though... With Yuu and the others gone, this place is back to how it was—devoid of life. Yet when I walk through it, I feel a most unpleasant sensation, like briars scratching against my skin. It's returned to the abandoned building I was so fond of before, and yet I'm feeling this way...” At the end of book 6, Malleus appears again but doesn’t interact with Yuu. He restores Vil’s youth and then curiously observes everyone’s jubilant reunions.

Book 7 (spans March to mid-May) - Ortho asks Yuu if they know of any fae, and Yuu thinks of Malleus. Malleus meets Yuu during a Mickey stakeout night arranged by the first year students. He shares a story from his childhood, to which Yuu remarks that he seems lonely. Malleus is surprised by this label but then asks, “What if… What if...there was some way to guarantee you'd never lose your friends, or family, or anything else? Would you wish for that?” and tries to come up with a solution. He then laments that everyone is leaving him, and no one will be left to invite him to anything. Technically, Malleus meets Yuu again a handful of other times in book 7. These other encounters are in a group settings where is focus is on other characters (the ones actively fighting him). Malleus doesn't have other explicit alone moments with Yuu (unless you want to count the time when falling debris traps Yuu and Grim before they can safely evacuate, but I personally don't because the narrative doesn't call attention to this as being intentional on Malleus's part).

If you count direct interactions between them in the main story alone, Malleus and Yuu have only about 5 total. These interactions are generally very short and/or not very substantive. For example, while Malleus does give Yuu advice, it's only once, and Yuu doesn't even formally learn his name or who he is until ~6 months into the year.

I think the fandom tends to perceive the relationship between Malleus and Yuu as being strong due to a few big factors: presentation and projection.

Look back at the interactions throughout the main story. Yuu doesn't even think much about Malleus until book 7 (and even has to be prompted to thinking about it by Ortho), but Malleus acts very... playful in comparison. For one, he keeps returning to Ramshackle at night despite claiming he'll have to find other ruins to fill in for it now that Yuu lives there. For another, he encourages Yuu to fight for their dorm + offers wisdom, is thoughtful enough to send them a holiday card, and is pleased that Yuu is fearless enough to refer to him by a silly nickname. It's also clear that Malleus has an attachment to Yuu, even though he cannot always articulate this well. For example, he seems to tease Yuu about being onstage for VDC/SDC and is disappointed to learn they are only a manager. He also indicates feeling lonely when Ramshackle is left empty in book 6, finding it odd because he usually likes solitary places. Finally, Malleus's sadness is enhanced in book 7 when he learns that Yuu may have found a way home. Twst presents Malleus a certain way because they wish to endear him to the player. They want to make him the player's "special friend". Players can be the only one who see Malleus for who he is. Players get to befriend an OP mage and dark fae prince. He likes you. This is intended to make the players, too, feel "special". However, Yuu barely seems to reciprocate because of their self-inserty nature; how valuable the friendship is relies on personal interpretation and investment in it, because the game barely gives Yuu instances to interact with Malleus.

I should also mention that many will point to Malleus's voice lines as proof of his closeness with Yuu. (Some call his voice lines outright "flirty" and will joke about how Malleus "missed the meeting about Twst not being a dating sim.") Indeed, he has numerous lines which imply doing activities with them outside the scope of the main story. But this isn't unique to specifically Malleus; every character gets fan service-y voice lines aimed at the player, but Malleus's are just called out more due to the importance placed on his role in the main story + the large volume of his fanbase. Personally, I find voice lines (and events too) to be sort of a grey area since they are not necessarily canon to the main story. That doesn't mean that enjoying the voice lines or factoring them into a character's relationship with Yuu is wrong, I just think it doesn't always accurately reflect the actual bond depicted in the main story campaign. They're moreso there so the players can get attached to the characters and daydream up their own connections with the boys. This is why even the grumpier or less friendly characters will be more okay with spending time with you once you whack them on your home screen while also being annoyed at you if you call out to them in the main story hi, Leona.

The other half of it I think is projection. Because Malleus is such a mysterious character and his book is very late in the main story, we did not have a ton of information about him when Twst first launched. This means there was plenty of room for fans to speculate, headcanon, and theorycraft about him more than the average Twst character. This results in a far more personal bond with Malleus, as you, the player, have dedicated significant time and energy to develop fanon lore and feelings around the guy. Players have a tendency to use what little content there is of Malleus and fill in the gaps themselves. This emotional investment can heighten or exaggerate how one perceives the connection between them and this character, which may result in people perceiving Malleus's friendship with Yuu being very strong or very important.

This actually led to several people believing that Yuu finding a way home in book 7 is what would ultimately lead to Malleus's overblot. Instead, it ended up being Lilia that triggered him to pop off, with Malleus even shouting that he doesn't want to lose him. Yuu sort of contributed to it (being another person that was going to leave Malleus + suggesting that they'd want a want to stop their loved ones from going away), but was not even mentioned in his emotional outburst. They didn't speak to each other at the end either. Ironically, this echoes a common sentiment I hear from newer players who play Twst because they heard about the hot goth dragon boy. They entered Twst thinking he would be a super close with Yuu (a first impression formed by watching the fandom from the outside), but then are surprised to learn that Malleus and Yuu don't really have that dynamic unless you go out of your way to look for it or extrapolate from voice lines.

I think one thing that really gets overlooked when it comes to Malleus is how much he also stands to learn from characters besides Yuu. The fandom so often holds Yuu up as special to Malleus (which is true to some extent), but they may also neglect to acknowledge other students. For example, Malleus is delighted in finding a human (Rollo) that actually makes HIM fearful. He also cites "Yuu and the others" when discussing how empty Ramshackle feels mid-book 6 and finds himself curious about all the dorms happily reuniting at the end of book 6. In his Bloom Broom vignettes, Malleus mentions that Ace and Deuce are also very interesting humans. More explicitly, he states that "I'm glad I can use magic because it allowed me to come to Night Raven College," a place where he can meet different people and have these unique experiences with them. And, of course, we cannot discount Diasomnia, especially seeing as how the fear of losing Lilia forever sparks Malleus's overblot.

There's always a possibility that Malleus and Yuu's friendship is made to be of more importance in book 8, especially seeing as Diasomnia will probably be returning as our helpers for that book. However, I wonder if it will really... work??? Since so much of that relationship's strength is dependent on how much the player likes Malleus (and therefore dependent on how much self-projection they engage in with him to fill in the gaps of the relationship), it could fall flat 💦

I feel like a more realistic direction would be to see Malleus take baby steps in reaching out to and connecting with his peers, especially because his strong magic (which he apparently no longer has??) was previously a deterrent that kept him isolated from others. Maybe it could work if Yuu serves as a bridge or someone that facilitates his socializing?

[biancasaidstfu]

FAVE ANON HERE 😏

It’s been a minute since I’ve submitted but after the vitriol I have seen on Twitter this weekend, I felt the need to speak…

First things first, all of us are brought here with one definitive common thread - we are all fans of Bridgerton. If we were not, we would probably not find ourselves in this fandom at all.

With that being said, if you’re on this blog you are probably a fan of both Nicola AND Luke. More than likely, you want them to be together romantically or believe they already are. And if you don’t want any of that, I don’t know why you’re here reading this posts. This is how you become a troll.

You are allowed to be a fan of one and not the other. This is not a dictatorship and no one is holding a gun to your heads. But this is the point where it is VITAL for me to remind you how many times Nic and Luke have a real love for each other and at the core are best friends. WHAT THIS MEANS IS you cannot call yourself a fan of one of them while simultaneously spreading hate and contempt and overall nastiness about the other one all over social media.

Now I have approached the topic of the RUMORED insignificant others. Did you know that there is no general rule of fandom that states if you are a fan of a character performer that you must also become a fan of any performers they may date now or in the future? WHAT THIS MEANS IS THAT no one is required to become Jake’s #1 fan just because the rumor mill wants to say Nic is dating him. Hell no one has to become his #1 fan if Nic herself came out and said she was dating him. Again, there is no need to speak with malice about his looks or his talent all over the internet but you do not have to be a fan. Same goes for the dancer who shall not be named (I know it’s a trigger for many around here). And if they act in deplorable ways - such as the dancer has displayed in the past - you are allowed to speak out on it while using decorum.

This is ultimately bringing me back to why I wrote this today. Tell me why I’m seeing tweets talking about how Jake is a more successful and more talented actor than Luke. Tweets saying Luke can’t act and how amazing Jake is. These tweets are from Bridgerton “fans”. These tweets are from Nicola “fans”. Based on everything I’ve written up until now, the math ain’t mathing on the word “fan”.

I’m not spreading hate to Jake. Fact of the matter, he’s a 24 year old kid almost fresh out of drama school. He has had one season of a failed show on a streaming network riddled with failed shows. He now has a small part in a movie that probably is not even recognized yet out of this fandom and extreme movie fans - if we’re being honest. Luke is 31 and is on his 4th season of one of Netflix’s top shows. He was the male lead last season and the season broke records. He was on a Disney channel show when he was younger. He was on multiple stage shows on the West End. He’s had many other roles in smaller projects and just picked up a lead role in a new film. While it is considered an independent film, it is a LEAD role.

With that evidence laid out, how can anyone actually say with their full chest that Jake is the better and more successful actor? Oh right they can’t. What it comes down to is the fact that the “Jakola shipping” movement is not based on anything more than being an Anti-Luke Newton movement and it is GROSS. No matter what they tell you, there was no “relationship” being universally talked about prior to late summer. On August 25 those festival pictures were released and some very twisted narcissistic people in this fandom took them and ran with them. They created a narrative to help dictate what and who people in this fandom are allowed to discuss online. They’ve bullied creators off of TikTok and Twitter and gaslight the hell out of everyone when called on it. A 24 year old gay man (OMG I SAID IT) is being bullied on the internet and the blame is fully being put on “Lukolas” when the truth is that no one would be paying any attention to him if this narrative wasn’t perpetuated in the first place. (Side note: if you’re sending hate to Jake on behalf of being a Lukola, please stop. Please treat him like you treat every other one of Nic’s male friends. No one should be getting hate.)

The majority of the hate and toxicity in this fandom stems with the Jakolas Jackholes and those who blindly follow and defend a certain creator. I’m not going to say her name because I know how much she gets off on people talking about her (even when it’s bad) AHAH. This is the shit that everyone else is afraid to say out loud but it’s true. And for those of you in that discord reading this to report back, hiiii!

Oh and if anyone has a problem with this and wants to call me out for being on Anon, let me know and I’ll DM you because I’m not afraid. I’m grownup.

Xx

Finally seeing people with common sense!

My fave anon pulls through yet again.

Everyone say thank you fave anon.

[vacayisland]

Can I request a floyd x fem!kpop troll who was in her own group and Floyd’s reaction when he finds out? (If you need help w groups I suggest girls generation/SNSD or twice :D)

@!; I never knew! Floyd / Fem!Kpop Troll! Reader

"Tag list"! @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen @ykvlanq

ꨄ︎ Having met Floyd after your group had blew up, you were hesitant to tell him about your career. Not because you didn't trust him nor were you ashamed of yourself or your group members, yet... he was one of the first people who didn't know who you were. He didn't know your K-pop group, he didn't know your stage name, he didn't call you or fangirl over you when he saw you. It was honestly refreshing, really refreshing.

ꨄ︎ You had joint your group for fun, at first; you thought having a group of other like minded people to rise to fame with would be fucking amazing. And while it was, the amount of fans you guys got swamped with was, well, unbearable. You loved the support, you loved your fans, yet finally finding someone who didn't know who you were was like finding a needle in a hay stack. Especially when your management had managed to get your groups music in every tribe after the events at the Hard Rock tribe. It not only blasted your popularity within the K-Pop trolls group, and their following, yet throughout the other tribes. And you didn't want to ruin the thing you had going with Floyd; so you kept your mouth shut.

ꨄ︎ Every time you had to do something with your group, you always made up an excuse for Floyd. Little yet believable things, like "Oh my sister is sick, I have to take care of her", "I'm spending time with family", "I had a long day and need a moment to myself", "I'm baking with friends", "girls only sleep over sorry", "I'm not in the village right now!". You know, simple white lies that had some sort of truth behind them. You hated lying to Floyd, especially when you two were really clicking, yet you also couldn't tell him the truth; not yet. And Floyd always seemed to not mind, always respected your plans and you, so you thought it was alright.

ꨄ︎ Meanwhile, when you weren't hanging out with Floyd, Floyd was hanging out with his brothers, Poppy, and Viva. It was always casual hangouts either in Branch's bunker, Poppy's pod, or else where around the village. Yet, one day while hanging out in Branch's bunker, Poppy brought out Branch's record player. She began exclaiming, basically shouting and springing with excitement, with how Branch had got her a new vinyl of this band that Poppy loves! Bruce encouraged her to play it, and well Poppy and Viva squealed and danced around while listening to it. "Oh hey, it's that new band." Bruce mumbled, recognizing the tune and lyrics, as well as the voices, of the k-pop band that was currently running a rampage in his house. "My kids love these girls."

ꨄ︎ That was the first time Floyd was exposed to your music, or k-pop in general. He enjoyed it, so he had asked Branch where he bought it and went to go buy himself a copy so he could listen to it at his own pod. He even sent you a photo of the vinyl after he got it!

ꨄ︎ "Hey, look at this new group my brothers introduced me to! Do you know them? They sound really good."

ꨄ︎ As soon as you got that message, and looked at the vinyl record, you freaked out. You scared the shit out of your fellow members, who stared at you so confused and concerned; Even your make-up stylist was concerned. "Hey, hey! What's wrong?" One of them would asked, panickily rushing to your side. You were sure they thought that you just got a message of Floyd cheating on you with another guy. But nope, "He bought one of our vinyls! He knows about our music!" "Oh. you know I thought this would be more serious-" "THIS IS SERIOUS!"

ꨄ︎ You accidentality left Floyd on read for 10 minutes as you explained to the others that you had never told Floyd about your association with this group. You had never told him you sang, or you were apart of this big K-pop group that blew up globally and you weren't sure how to tell him and it's not like you want to tell him incase that somehow ruined your current relationship! It was a lot to confess, especially when you all were getting ready for a show. Your other members stared at you like you were a little mental for your line of reasoning. And maybe you were, but you didn't want to out yourself now! You've been keeping this up for 7 months!

ꨄ︎ That's when Floyd texted you again: "Hey, are you okay? I saw you read my message and you don't usually leave me on read. Unless something happened?"

ꨄ︎ And you had no choice but to respond! You couldn't leave him on read twice. "Hey, sorry something just came up. Yeah, I've heard of them they're pretty good."

ꨄ︎ "Did you really just call us good?" Your group was now peaking over your shoulder, silently reading the conversation to themselves as it played out. They had always been curious about you and this Floyd fellow, and now they understood why you never introduced them. "That's either really egotistical or just sad you think we're so bad." Commented one of them to your left, and you would have agreed with her in you weren't under a lot of pressure right now! "I don't know, I'm panicking!"

ꨄ︎ You somehow managed to get through that conversation without outing yourself, but you couldn't spare yourself from your groups disappointment about your actions; And, to be fair, you were disappointed in yourself. They would pull chairs around, forming a circle around you that kind of made you feel like you were in rehab, or in some sort of intervention. "You know you're going to have to tell him at some point, right?" They would point out, "You cannot possibly keep all of this a secret forever. I don't even know how you've managed to hid it from him for seven months!" You would only sigh, "I know! I know... I just don't know how to say it without sounding..." "Insane?", "Mental?", "Like you're a big fat lair?" "Okay rude- but yes!"

ꨄ︎ "Invite him to a show!" Was the agreement you had all came to, even thought it made you queasy even thinking about mixing your K-pop life with your personal life. You were so comfortable with Floyd and you didn't want to mess anything up; You also didn't want to accidentally out your relationship to your fans and cause some sort of havoc that had to be cleared up by your PR team. Nor did you want any of them to go to Floyd's way and do who knows what. But, knowing you also couldn't lie to him forever, you caved in and sent him the tickets in the mail along with a letter:

ꨄ︎ "Floyd! You have mail." JD called from the elevator as he came back into the bunker with mail. Everyone was gathered around in the kitchen, talking and slowly waking up; JD only dumped the pile of letters, party invites, and anything else that got stuck in mail onto the counter. He handed Floyd' letter to him personally, with a playful wiggle of the eyebrow. Confused, but a little intrigued, Floyd opened the envelope and read the letter, taking his time and not minding the peeping eyes of everyone around. His brothers, seemed to interested with this letter. "It's tickets?" Floyd mumbled when he reached the end of your letter, noticing the lipstick kiss on the bottom. His cheeks flushed a little, a dorky smile wobbling onto his lips before he coughed and tried to compose himself. He knew he would never hear the end of it from his brothers, who were already snickering! All but for Branch, "Tickets to what?" "Tickets to that band you introduced us to." Floyd mumbled, pulling out 7 VIP tickets to your next concert in Pop Village. Poppy nor Viva could contain their screams as soon as they saw the tickets!

ꨄ︎ Floyd texted you later in the day, thanking you for the tickets. Yet, just as you knew he would, he couldn't help but question where you got them (and if you bought them, how he would pay you back) and why there was only 7 and not 8 (where you not coming?). You could only text him back that he would understand during the concert; which was in a few days time.

ꨄ︎ And then you may or may not have ghosted him... Listen, you were completely freaking out about this new change. Even if it hadn't started yet, you had so much fear you half hoped that you ghosting Floyd would end in him thinking you hated him and he wouldn't come and you never will have to face with the consequences of your own actions. Wow, that actually not sounded so shitty thinking about it. "Oh hey, lover boy is here!" "WHAT?!"

ꨄ︎ Your plan didn't work, Floyd sort of figured everything out after hearing Poppy infodump about the group a day before the show. He was still a little iffy about his assumption that you were a member of this group, yet thought he might right. After all, it would explain a lot about your odd schedule and your recent ghosting. And while Floyd was sitting down, getting comfortable next to his brothers and the ever so excited Poppy, Viva, and surprisingly Clay and Branch, you were freaking out! The others literally kept having to splash water in your face to keep you from backing out, or maybe even passing out. You couldn't believe this was happening, you couldn't believe that he actually came, you couldn't believe- "Come on ladies, we need you on stage now!"

ꨄ︎ During the performance, you kept glancing over where Floyd and his brothers were, so nervous about his reaction. You saw, on several occasions, Viva and Poppy shouting and cheering, dancing with both Clay and Branch and between themselves. Bruce acted like any other dad that was brought to this concert because of his teenage daughter, and Floyd... Oh you were too nervous to get a good look at him. Yet, what you didn't see was that Floyd was your biggest supporter. He was shouted your name with the biggest smile, singing your lyrics (that he so didn't memorize since he got the tickets and even more so when he pieced things together).

ꨄ︎ He's so supportive! <3

ꨄ︎ He was slightly shocked when he first realized who you were, but quickly became your biggest fan! Literally ran to you after the show, couldn't hold himself back from pulling you into such a big hug. Literally was gushing over how amazing your performance was and he was so sorry he ever made you feel like you had to hide this from him. You had to reassure him it wasn't because of anything he did.

ꨄ︎ "Wha- Floyd no! I didn't keep this away from you because you were the problem!" You rushed how instantly as soon as you heart Floyd apologize. You couldn't even believe he would even begin to think that this was somehow his fault, when it was the opposite. "It.. it wasn't?" His look of confusion pulled at your heart so much. The way he pulled away from the hug for a moment, hands still on your shoulders, as he gave you a confused wide-eyed look. You cursed yourself for not telling him earlier! "No, of course not! I was-..." You paused for a moment, biting at the edge of your lip. You thought over your words carefully, "It was... nice to have someone who didn't know who I was. It felt like I could be, you know, normal around you. I didn't have to worry about being stage me because I could just be me!" "Oh..." Floyd seemed like he understood that feeling all too well. You stared at him, your eyebrows scrunching a little in confusion. "What?" "Why do you look like you know exactly what I'm talking about like you've experienced it before?" "Because I do!" Floyd would give you a small smile, "Back in my Brozone days-" "YOU WERE IN BROZONE?!"

ꨄ︎ Floyd may or may not have forgotten to mention he had been a member of BroZone; Whoops!

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[iwasakisena]

I just saw a post about how Caleb actually never treat MC like actual sister bcoz brother in real life treat their sister like trash but still will defend you if someone pick fight with their sister. I cannot find the post anymore but I assure you this is the absolute truth. This gonna be super long but deal with me:

Listen here, I am very close to my older brother, we share lots same hobbies and interests but yes he wouldn't hesitate to headlock, roundhouse kick or german supplex me anytime. We would wrestling until we bruises here and there. He would caught his fart and put it on my face. He will swear at me every fucking day then proceed to slap me some allowance for my games and foods.

Yes real life brother is totally not like Caleb. They don't play fight, they can and will punch shit out of you. When you in problem they will laugh at your misery and make fun of you. They will never be like "oh my god what's wrong my dearest baby sister,you sad? don't worry i am here🥺". This is delusion and it will never happen to normal siblings...well unless you're lucky enough to get actual decent brother ofc.

A brother don't see cute accessories and buy it for you. They will encounter the most ugliest shit and decided to buy it to annoy their sibling. He will not buy you food but he will FIGHT if there's a food. And is it just me? coz i don't pull girlfriend boyfriend shit with just because he's popular. Sorry to say but that's too disgusting I don't even want to imagine it

The cheek kiss at stage observer?? Nope ain't no way that will happen. This is the same man who strangle me with a sweater and splash water at me out of spite. The only initiated physical touch is head ruffles( if he feels generous or in good mood) and when we fighting ofc. Ngl im gonna be sad if he have girlfriend since he is my best friend but I wouldn't go that far to prevent it.

The point is this is really and you won't get princess treatment from an older brother. MC is too damn oblivious to notice Caleb move. Fair enough if people tell me its because she's don't have anyone but Caleb as siblings BUT she's not child anymore,she can know normal behavior of siblings from other people. Poor Caleb for still getting ignored with all the signal he gave MC😔

[cepheustarot]

What will your summer be like?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

✧ Masterlist ✧ Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: Your summer will be very active! The cards say that you will have a lot of trips, a lot of meetings with people, you can simply walk a lot, do various sports or hobbies where you are supposed to move a lot, it can be dancing, running, cycling / roller skating, etc. It is also a good opportunity to try yourself in something new, as there is a high probability that it will bring you positive impressions. The cards also say that perhaps you are not living your best period of time right now, you may feel very tired, exhausted, melancholic mood, apathy. But in the summer your condition will noticeably improve! I can also say that in the summer you begin a new period in your life or a new stage — you will feel a huge surge of strength, and most importantly, you will feel better than before. You will be very bright, filled with vital energy, you will have a thirst for life again, you will become more sociable, you will be surrounded by people but at the same time you will also appreciate yourself and put yourself first. This summer, the phrase "you reap what you sow" will also work, this mainly refers to health, try not to overheat in the sun, do not work over, rest and relax if possible.

Pile 2: This summer will be good for the implementation of plans! If you were planning a trip, meeting with friends, or you were planning to achieve some results at work /study/ projects, then success awaits you. Even if you decide to start something new, then luck and success will also accompany you, you will succeed in everything no matter what you took. As the cards show, you will generally focus on developing something, for example, yourself, your skills, your personal brand, maybe you decide to change your social circle or environment. The cards also say that you are quite creative, you can engage in creativity more often in the summer as this will bring you joy, satisfaction and generally help you feel better. Changes in appearance are also welcome as they will be able to freshen up the image, you will generally feel more confident and more beautiful (although you are already quite a confident and beautiful person!). You can also get close to some person from the past, it can be someone from childhood or youth, or a person with whom you once stopped communicating, but not on a bad note. In any case, this person's presence and communication will make the summer more memorable.

Pile 3: Your summer will be filled with communication with people, many acquaintances and a lot of romance awaits you! As the cards show, this summer you will often have fun and spend time with people, both with family, loved ones and new acquaintances. Basically, they will be good people with whom you will be on the same wavelength and quickly find a common language, these people will be somewhat similar to you but they will also complement you. These are very good people who will always support you and will be able to cheer you up, boost your self-confidence, with them you will feel as if you are soulmates. As I said earlier, you will also have a lot of romance: you may have one or more affairs this summer. You will go on dates very often, receive attention, care, expensive gifts, and there will also be many intimate moments between you. In addition, in the summer you will have a good opportunity to start something new or try yourself in a new way, as you will be successful. You can also expect to spend a lot of money but I can't say that this will upset you much, since all purchases will bring you satisfaction, bring you a good mood.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

[dedfly]

I just had a *delicious* Shadow Milk/Reader idea!

What if, after the events of the game, Reader finds Shadow Milk Cookie (whether Reader's inside or outside the Tree's barrier is up to you) sulking or generally being upset that he hadn't gotten his way after his defeat. Being a good friend/lover/etc., Reader then decides to (either right then or after a bit of time to prepare) play him a song like they were his personal court jester & he was their king?

I think he'd appreciate something like that (and probably find it endearing), although he might tease that they had better not try and steal the show/leave the jesting to him, y'know?

Like, reader is just really playing up the antics and making fun of those *terrible, no good cookies* that had slighted him in an attempt to cheer him back up some. I just think that would be really cute.

- =^ •ᆽ• ^=

I hope it's cute enough

† Shadow Milk cookie x reader †

† Oneshot †

Kinda angsty

Shadow Milk sat covering his head with his hands in defeated position, muttered something under his breath, cursed and spat. Anything to stop the approaching tears. But despite this, a telltale lump was already forming in his throat, and there was an familiar unpleasant feeling of aching pain in his heart. Thousands of years of waiting are down the drain, it’s not fair, it’s not right, and in general just awful.

He would have sat there even longer if he had not heard some fuss. He immediately perk up, quickly wiping his eyes with his puffy sleeve.

Shadow's slitted eyes flashed as soon as they recognized who had come to visit the jester. Despite this, Shadow was, to put it mildly, out of sorts, and maybe if it had been someone else, he would have put on his usual cheerful mask, but not this time. He was amused at the sight before him.

His eyes darted between you laying out your “props”. It was even comical to be on the other end of the stage and be an audience for once. Not that he could make anything out of his imprisonment besides watching and observing.

What’s even more comical is that all attempts to cheer him up only caused him to smile a little, and only because he still noticed how much of an amateur you were. It was warming his heart for sure, but he is too full of himself to admit that.

At that moment when you were telling him about how “mean” the Elder Fairy had done by transferring the powers to White Lily and oh God, they hid this fact from the poor unfortunate jester. Attacking from behind!and who does that anyway? Horrible evil cookies.

Rolling his eyes at another attempt to “suck up” to him, Shadow Milk extended his hand to flick your nose.

“Oh come on, you silly cookie, shoo shoo I've seen enough,” Milk purred before pressing himself against the tines of the fork that were holding him back. Despite the fact that he would never admit it, hearing something so far from the truth that showed him in the best light could not but please him. He reached out to ran his hand along your hair a bit patronisingly, yet not enough so you would notice.

The seeds of deception are sprouting faster than he expected. Even such little lie makes him feel more alive. How pleasant.

________

I feel a bit like in one webtoon where instead of a joke it said *funny joke* while writing it ಠ_ಠ

Ironically, it was also about the jester

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet part 7

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used)

series masterlist (read parts 1-6 here!)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: stuck up awful rich people. mentions of: abortion (sowwy ** i can't write kids), homophobia, throwing up, general awful elitism, heavy drinking, implied minor character death, and we talk about stuff like unethical labor practices/basically slave labor. depictions of: violence, guns.

a/n: hey yall....sorry for taking literal months to write this. and sorry in advance for what you're about to read, since this is admittedly a little far removed from tlou. and i'm also sorry if this isn't what you guys are expecting—i know i made you wait a long time for this, so it was tough for me to finally get around to posting because i didn't want to disappoint anyone. also it was just sooo sad writing the last scene because i just didn't want it to end!! anywayyyy enjoy

wc: 14.6k (i know...i know...)

tags: @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl​ @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28 @sugarqueencosmos @iriswalrus @chiao1209 @lovecaraya @thatgiraffefromtlou @alwayslongingforyou @thelastofshimmer

May 16th, 2029

Welcome to AskAI! Enter your questions below and I'll try my best to answer :) 

How does Cordyceps spread?

Ophiocordyceps unilateralis is mostly commonly spread between humans by the medium of bodily fluids, though this was not always the case. In the early stages of the outbreak, most carriers were infected by the presence of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis spores in flour from a Jakartan mill. It is still unclear how the contamination occurred. 

Is saliva included in bodily fluids that carry Cordyceps?

Yes, Ophiocordyceps unilateralis can be spread through human saliva. Other bodily fluids include blood, feces, mucus, and semen.

So if someone were to kiss someone infected with Cordyceps, would that person be infected too?

Yes, because Ophiocordyceps unilateralis can be spread through human saliva. 

How long would it take before seeing symptoms?

If Ophiocordyceps unilateralis spores were to be introduced to an individual via mouth-to-mouth transmission, the approximate incubation window has been recorded to be no longer than 8 hours.

How long would it take to be detected by a standard testing device?

Our testers would detect the presence of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis within an hour after exposure. Note that this only refers to the conditions outside of Terranova. There has never been a detected case of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis in Terranova’s history. 

Thank you.

You’re welcome! Please leave feedback on the AskAI Feedback Form if you have any ideas as to how I can improve <3

One year later

“And there’s no way we can skip?” 

“You know the rules.”

Dina rolled her eyes and sighed as you two stood at the door of your parents’ penthouse, waiting to knock. “Maybe if you went and I said that I was sick or something.”

“They’d know you were lying.”

“They’d probably be happy if I missed dinner.” 

“I don’t know if happy is something they can be,” you said. You tried to make it light and joking, but it came out with the heaviness of truth. “Plus, they’re not exactly thrilled with me either.”

“Not exactly thrilled” was the understatement of the century. Ever since you’d come home with a pregnant outsider toting a gun and covered in dirt, your parents had convinced themselves that you’d somehow become corrupted over your time living outside. 

But Dina had it way worse. Your parents were so scandalized by her rugged ways and the fact that she’d gotten pregnant out of wedlock that they’d nearly fainted upon realizing you were advocating for her Terranovan citizenship. 

You both had had the good fortune of avoiding any further tense interactions with them for the last few months, but that morning you’d awoken to an email that contained an invitation to their home for dinner. It was noted that Dina had to attend.

So here you two were. Dressed in uncomfortable, stiff clothes and nervously twiddling your thumbs. 

“You’re going to be fine,” you promised Dina. It sounded like a lie. “I’ll do most of the talking, okay?”

“If you say so.” 

You rang the doorbell.

It took just a few moments before the door swung open.

“Hi Chris!” you greeted, plastering a smile on your face. 

Your family housekeeper smiled back with a neutral warmth. She looked slightly thinner than you remembered when you saw her last just a few months ago. “Hello. Miss Dina, please remember to keep your shoes on this time.” 

Dina flushed bright red. The last time she’d come over for dinner, she’d taken her shoes off and had been given a very stern lecture by your mother about how improper stockinged feet were for dinner. “Of course not, ma’am.” 

You sent her an apologetic look and stepped inside.

“Your parents are in the sitting room,” Chris told you as she took your coats. 

You thanked her.

“Why don’t they ever come up to greet us themselves?” Dina whispered to you. 

You shrugged. “No clue. They just never have. They probably don’t want to have to take a break from whatever stimulating conversation they’re having about the country club happenings.”

She snorted. All of a sudden, you were overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude for Dina and her spirit. After your family had essentially decided you were hopeless, family get-togethers had become torture. Dina was your lifeline.

As Chris had said, your parents were found lounging in the sitting room, your mother fanning herself with one hand and holding what looked to be a gin and tonic in the other, your father sitting across from her in a tastefully worn armchair. 

“Girls,” your mother greeted. Her eyes looked flinty and flat. “How good of you to come. I was worried you’d lost your way.”

It was a classic Y/L/N insult for latecomers, but it was barely a minute past 6:30. 

“The elevator wasn’t working,” you offered. “We had to take the stairs.”

“Hm. Well, come and sit. Petra can get you a drink.” 

A tall girl who couldn’t have been much younger than you was standing at the other end of the room next to the bar. She had bright ginger hair that stood out starkly against the neutral beige of her uniform and a small, squatty nose. You’d never seen her before in your life. 

“Is she new?” you asked.

“Who, Petra? Oh, I think so. It must’ve been…oh, I’m not sure. This March, I believe? What do you think, darling?”

“Around then.” The solid ice globe slid against the glass with a clink as your father answered, taking a long pull of his bourbon after. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Dina politely.

Your mother let out a labored sigh. “Dear, I’m very glad to see you working on manners, but there’s no need to engage with the help.”

Dina didn’t answer, instead sending you a meaningful look. 

“Well, not usually,” she continued. “Though it is appropriate to interact with them in matters that are considered strictly business. Take, for example, the fact that neither of you have managed to order a drink yet. Petra, come.”

You stared at your hands, folded tightly in your lap. If there was anything you hated more than your parents, it was how they treated the help. And, though you’d never say it out loud, you didn’t understand how two middle aged adults needed more than one full-time housekeeper on hand. Chris made sense. Petra was entirely unnecessary. 

“We really don’t need anything,” you said to Petra when she was in front of you, looking rather pale. “But thank you.” 

The tension in the air refused to dissipate, not even when you were relocated to the dining room and had the crutch of picking away at the three courses served to you. 

Dina, having been thoroughly scolded by your mother the last time she dined with her, was clinical in choosing which utensil to use for each course. 

Your mother babbled on and on about the country club and the book club. Your father occasionally butted in with a few dull, lifeless comments. There was something especially dead in his appearance, like he was running on zero sleep.

“You may be curious as to why I asked you two here today,” your mother said after the main course plates had been cleared. “First of all, I wanted to extend my congratulations to my daughter for graduating in just a few days.” 

“Thank you,” you said stiffly. 

“And more importantly—” 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“—I wanted to announce that your father will finally be retiring,” she said. “He’s been working so hard for the last few years. Isn’t this wonderful?”

“That’s really great, Father,” you said, feigning a smile to hide your confusion. You hadn’t known that your father had even worked, much less hard enough to warrant a formal retirement. 

“Thanks, dove,” he said.

“When’s your last day?” you pried, wondering if you could manage any more information out of him. 

“This Friday.”

“Hm.” So much for that. You exchanged glances with Dina as Petra reappeared with a tray of small goblets filled with colorful globes of sorbet. 

“You’ll both be expected to be in attendance at his retirement party,” Mother added. She was frowning deeper now. 

“Even me?” said Dina.

“Yes.” She smiled tightly. “And please note that they’re unaware that we helped you through your…little problem. I can’t imagine why that would ever come up in conversation, but I would really prefer it didn’t.”

“Uh huh,” responded Dina, her eyes wide. 

When Dina had arrived, your family had given her two options—have her child and give it up for adoption, or terminate the pregnancy then and there in secret. Refusing to comply would lead to your parents being entirely unwilling to sponsor her citizenship as it was far too unseemly to be an unmarried mother. Though it was clear your parents thought she was devastated by the prospect, she’d confided in you later that she hadn’t realized that that had been an option for her. She’d taken the second option without a second thought, telling you that she didn’t feel ready to be a mother. 

The unfortunate part of it all was that your parents held this over her head on occasion, using it as leverage to make Dina feel like she owed them. Hence why she never felt entirely comfortable with telling them off. 

That your parents had kept the abortion a secret was hardly a surprise. Abortion was one of those issues that no one liked to talk about. Though it wasn’t the hardest procedure to get, it was never publicly discussed. You’d never personally known of anyone who had gotten one before, but the clinic had been so full when you’d attended with Dina nearly a year ago that you were beginning to second guess that fact. 

“Anyway,” said your mother lightly, “Darling, have you heard anything from the Thompsons recently?” 

“Oh, no. I haven’t seen Richard in quite some time.”

“It’s funny you say that. Melanie was supposed to host the Garden Club party last week, and you’ll never believe what happened.”

“What, honey?” Your father stared dully at the tablecloth, entirely unengaged. 

“When I stopped by, the rest of the girls were already there,” your mother said. “Just sitting out in front of her building looking very confused. I walked right up and asked what was going on—you know, now that I’m co-president, I need to keep things in order—”

“Yes, honey.”

“—And Angie tells me that they’ve been ringing her for ten minutes and she hasn't answered. I decided to give her a call, and straight to voicemail. So we all sat out there until it started raining. We never even got an apology text.” 

“Oh,” said your father, looking a little more engaged. “Is that really?”

“Yes,” your mother said. The attention made her sit up straighter. “It absolutely was. It was incredibly inappropriate. I couldn’t believe it. And to think that she stole that hosting spot from me…”

“Do you know if she’s alright?” your father asked,

She shrugged. “I should hope not. That’s the only excuse she could have for what happened.”

“Hm.” Your father moved the melting sorbet around without clinking his spoon to the crystal. “It seems that quite a few of us have been dropping off the face of the Earth.”

“It must be because of the long winter,” you said diplomatically. “Too much darkness makes us all a little loony.”

Your mother raised a brow and hummed in assent. “I suppose so.”

“Is that why groceries are so expensive now?” you asked. It had become a new development. About 6 months after you and Dina had returned, the prices on the shelves had rocketed upwards.

“Something like that,” your father said vaguely. 

“What does that mean?”

“Y/N,” your mother warned.

“It’s alright, dear,” your father said, waving his hand. “It’s really nothing interesting. Supplying this city has always had its challenges. This year just happens to be especially hard.”

“What kind of challenges?” pried Dina.

“Shipments are always difficult to orchestrate,” he said. “As is quality control. It’s nothing that we haven’t seen before. Prices will go back to usual within a few months. The pendulum always has to swing back.”

It was a saying he always used—the pendulum analogy.

Dessert wrapped up quickly. Your mother gave you the official date for your father’s retirement party and ironed out your graduation details, and before you knew it you and Dina were off into the night. 

“Thank fucking god that’s over,” said Dina as you two trotted down the street to the metro. 

“Tell me about it.” You zipped up your jacket to ward off the slight chill in the evening air. “I’m really sorry you had to deal with all of that. I appreciate you coming with me. I know they’re awful to you.”

“Well, they’ll be worse if I don’t go,” she responded, her eyes cloudy for a second. She was right. One misstep and they could have her citizenship and their financial sponsorship rescinded. 

“True,” you conceded. 

The metro was bustling with people as you and Dina hopped on to the yellow line that would take you to the university residences. It was modeled right after the Parisian metros, with its Art Nouveau signs and themed stops.  There was only standing room, so you two clutched onto the stainless steel poles in the middle. 

The doors made a groaning sound and a speaker crackled as the announcer came on.

“Doors closing. Please stand clear of the exits. This is an express train with service to University Park. Other stops include 25th Street and North Village. There will be no evening service to Rotingham.” 

You and Dina seemed to come to an unspoken agreement to remain silent and process the hell that had been dinner with your parents as the train lurched forward into motion. You closed your eyes and would’ve rested your head against the handrail had it not been so gross. 

The only fortunate thing about your parents was the fact that they were incredibly easy to get to, despite living on the other side of the city from the university. What would’ve normally taken 40 minutes with transfers was cut down to 15 with the use of an express train that ran right from the station outside of your apartment. 

You had resolved to just sit in silence when the train came to a screeching halt. 

Your eyes shot open, meeting Dina’s confused gaze. 

The lights above flickered, then sputtered out to leave you in darkness. 

There was a hushed silence amongst everyone in your train car. 

“What’s going on?” Dina whispered to you. 

“This happens sometimes,” you said quietly back, but it was sort of a lie. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for the lights to go out, but you’d never had it happen in tandem with a train stopping on the tracks before reaching a station. And especially not an express train…

The lights flickered on again, and there was a shared sense of relief as a few of the train’s occupants let out a shaky laugh. 

“Thought we were going to have to walk!” said a ruddy looking old man sitting across from you. The car responded with polite chuckles. 

“Apologies for the delay,” came a voice over the loudspeaker—a human voice, not an automated one. “There was a disturbance on the tracks that had to be dealt with. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. Service will continue as usual.”

The train lurched back into movement, the dark walls of the tunnel moving past in a blur.

“That was weird,” Dina remarked once you two had gotten to your stop and were walking up to ground level.

“Yeah,” you said, frowning. “I didn’t want to tell you then because I didn’t want to freak you out, but normally express trains never stop, especially not at this time of night with less trains in service.”

“What qualifies as a disturbance on the tracks?”

“I have no clue,” you confessed. The sun was hovering just barely over the horizon, its last rays of light reflecting aggressively off of the skyscrapers in the distance from which you came. “Someone probably dropped something big like a suitcase onto the tracks and blocked the way. It happens.” 

You were purposefully avoiding the elephant in the room—that it had probably been a person on the tracks. It wasn’t especially common—not nearly as common as you heard it was in places like New York before the outbreak—but it happened on occasion. Terranova wasn’t the best place for everyone.

“The Thompsons are Simon’s family, right?” Dina asked you. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the cheerful chatter of fellow university students socializing and drinking on the green next to the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” you said. You and Dina had occasionally hung out with Simon since returning. You noticed that Simon had really taken a liking to Dina, but neglected to mention it since his parents were actively attempting to arrange a marriage between him and some girl in the Art History program at your school. “Have you talked to him at all? I haven’t heard from him for a week or so.”

“Me neither.” Dina tightened the dark braid that fell over her shoulder as she walked, looking rather troubled. “I didn’t realize his parents were missing.”

“They’re probably fine,” you said. “I seriously wouldn’t worry about it. There’s nothing here that could hurt them.”

“You’re right,” she said. “I just forget that there’s no infected here sometimes. Like, tonight, I thought I was gonna have to start swinging on someone in the train when the power cut.” 

“God, same.” You shivered. “It’s weird to know that we don’t have to worry about that anymore. But I think it’ll get easier with time.”

“Yeah,” said Dina, but she didn’t sound convinced. “Well, I’m going to text Simon and see if he’s alright. Or maybe call him. I’m sure he’ll know what happened.” 

“Let me know what he says.” You’d ascended the steps up to your shared apartment and were slotting the key into the keyhole. “By the way, did I ever formally invite you to my graduation?”

“Not that I recall.” Dina followed you in and kicked her shoes off.

“Well, consider this your formal invitation,” you said, turning to grin at her. “It’s this Saturday. Be there or be square.”

“Will there be free food?”

“And anything you want to drink,” you told her, though you weren’t entirely sure of that fact. You’d only ever been to one graduation in your life, and that had been years before it was socially acceptable for you to drink anything beyond the odd glass of watered down wine—but you recalled a memory of particularly free-flowing champagne flutes being passed around. 

“Consider me sold.” 

~

You had to be going crazy. There was no way. 

You entered the numbers back into the graphing software again. Then again. Then one more time, just to be sure you were seeing what you were seeing. 

“Everything going alright over there?” asked old Professor Gunther, looking up from his grading and his steaming cup of tea. 

“Um—” You blinked, hard, then looked back down at your calculations. “Professor, can you look at these for me? I think I must’ve made a mistake.”

“Of course, my dear.” He graciously accepted the notepad full of barely legible numbers that you came up to hand to him and adjusted the glasses on his face so he could squint more efficiently. “And what is this exactly?”

“I’ve been parsing through the data on that star—that K star you’d been watching for a while—and, um, I’ve noticed something.” Your voice shook nearly as much as your hand as you pointed to the scribbled numbers. “Can you, uh, graph these? And put them into a different program than StarBlast? And look at the spectra? It’s giving me what I think is—actually, I don’t know. You do it and I’ll show you what I got.” 

“I’m confused about what you could have possibly done wrong,” he said, though he was already opening his own laptop and starting up a different program that you hadn’t used before because of how much you hated the GUI. “Did you try to parse it by hand to check?”

“Yes,” you said. “Horrible idea. Took me forever.” 

“And you got the same result?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.” He took off his glasses to wipe them off, then began typing in the data you’d emailed to him earlier for bookkeeping purposes. “Let me see what I have.” 

The agonizing few minutes it took for him to enter him already had your mind spiraling with possibilities as the implications sunk in. If you were right—if this was right—everything was going to change in your field. 

The spectra graph roared to life.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard your professor say. “Is this—”

“I think so,” you said. “I think so.”

What you two were looking at held more than one piece of crucial information. The first was nothing but basic calculations of a Doppler Shift that detected that there was a planet. Your calculations estimated its size at roughly the same as the Earth, with a similar orbital period and distance from its star that placed it in the habitable zone.

That wasn’t anything earth-shattering. There were plenty of Earth-sized planets in the habitable zone, implying that if the conditions were right, there was an environment conducive to organic life. 

What was, however, were the spectra emissions that you were staring at, slack-jawed and skin prickling. 

“Methane,” you whispered. “And oxygen. And phosphine.” 

And not just a little—enough that it suggested biological processes that could only occur with the presence of life.

“I think you should finish writing this report,” Professor Gunther finally said. 

You froze. “What?” 

He turned to you, his glasses sliding down his bulbous nose and a kind smile on his face. “I’ve made enough discoveries in my life. This one is yours to claim.” 

You were overcome with so much gratitude that you launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

Gunther good-naturedly patted your back with the enthusiasm of a grandfather being pestered by his grandchildren. “This is your moment. Take it.” 

“Thank you,” you said, pulling back with tears welling up in your eyes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

He smiled again. “It’s truly my pleasure. I feel lucky to have had a student like you.” 

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to start crying.”

“We can’t have that,” he said, standing up and handing you back your sheet of calculations. “You have work to do.”

You settled back into your work across from him, nearly buzzing with excitement as you finished typing up your findings. It would be a long process for the study to actually be published—long, painful, and undoubtedly draining—but it would be so worth it. You’d be the one who discovered a planet that (most likely) harbored life. For the first time in history. 

Though you wouldn’t be publishing a paper any time soon, you still had to log the planet into the “global” (not exactly global given that there was no other place on Earth with the same technology as Terranova) database. And with that meant giving it a name.

In that moment, it was like time froze as the cursor blinked in the box. There was nothing but the blood rushing in your head, the dull hum of the fluorescent lights above, and the slight stickiness of the leather desk chair beneath you. 

You gulped. It was standard in the department to name planets after the astronomer that discovered them. You’d never had a planet named after you before. You’d only ever crunched numbers that Gunther had given to you to analyze spectra emissions. This was the first time you’d ever actually discovered something that hadn’t already been logged before it had landed on your desk.

And yet…

You closed your eyes. Suddenly you were back in the meadow at Jackson, tracing the wisps of the Milky Way with your finger as you and Ellie talked about the constellations. You saw the childish excitement on her normally stern features when she held the moon rock for the first time. You saw the wonder in her eyes when you told her a new space fact that she’d never heard before. That she’d never had the opportunity to learn before. 

Your fingers moved before you could stop them, quickly tapping out the name “Ellie” into the box and hitting the enter button. 

For the rest of the day, you regretted it. You tried not to think of her anymore. It was something that you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t do after you spent the entirety of last summer miserable and doing nothing but turning over the memories in your mind until Dina made you do something with her. 

It was difficult. You wanted to put it in the past, because you couldn’t think about her without thinking about how she probably wasn’t even alive anymore. Which didn’t make any sense. Nothing ever made any sense about Ellie. Even before you predicted she’d been bitten, she’d already been behaving erratically—not packing her things, not saying a real goodbye to Joel, catching more food than their small group of three could possibly need near the end. It was like she knew that she wouldn’t be able to go.

Which didn’t make any sense, because why go all that way knowing that it was for nothing?

Which made you think about how bizarre she was before leaving. How sad she seemed when she told you that she was going, like even then she knew that it wouldn’t happen. 

And you hadn’t gotten sick from her, even though you should have. She’d kissed you long after she would’ve been bitten. And you knew from your frantic research upon arriving that you should have tested positive when Simon checked. 

So why hadn’t you? And why had she?

It was things like this that could keep you up for days if you weren’t careful. It was awful, but sometimes you liked to believe that she had really been sick and had died shortly after. You had a vision of her killing herself before fully turning, and even though it hurt to imagine it, it was the most humane end of them all. If she was dead, then maybe there was an afterlife, and maybe a piece of her was watching over you. Maybe she was still with you. Maybe she finally was able to rest. 

You hoped that little piece of her had seen her name the first planet with life after her.

A tiny smile crept across your face, but inside you felt devastated. You were going to mourn her again all day, like you always did when something reminded you of her. And you were probably going to dream of her, of her stupid grin and the way her hair felt when it tickled your face. 

Pull it together you thought glumly. You had to be normal for your father’s retirement party that night, and you had just under 4 hours to do so. 

~

“Ugh,” you said, staring at your phone as you stood with Dina near the door, both of you dolled up and ready to go to the party.

“That’s how I feel too,” said Dina. “I’m going to kill myself if anyone brings up anything about how hard my childhood must’ve been and how I’m doing such a good job adjusting one more time.”

“Ha,” you said. “Mom just texted me to tell me that we need to stop by theirs first.”

“Why? Aren’t they already at the venue?”

“Yeah,” you responded, wrinkling your nose. “But apparently she forgot her gift for him—some vintage Rolex she got restored for him.”

“A vintage what?”

“Stupidly overpriced wristwatch,” you explained. 

It took less time than usual to get to their building. Despite it being at peak busy hour, the platforms seemed eerily empty.

“Is there some holiday going on?” Dina asked, sitting across from you so that you both had your own row of seats. 

“Oh, I’m such an idiot,” you said, clapping your forehead with your hand. “Of course there is. That’s why my father held his retirement party today. It’s the first day of this festival that goes all week.”

“What’s it for?”

“I honestly don’t know the background,” you admitted. “Most people just use it as an excuse to get incredibly drunk. I think it has something to do with the founding. It’s, like, the only time that public intoxication is okay.” 

“Damn,” said Dina thoughtfully. 

“The trains will probably fill up on our way back,” you said, sighing. “Hopefully it won’t be too bad. Worst comes to worst we can walk.”

“It gets that bad?” 

“There’s hardly standing room,” you said, recalling the last festival you’d been around for—the summer before you’d been catapulted to Jackson. “And it just reeks of drunk people. And you have to be really careful, because I hear the custodial staff has to work overtime to clean up all the vomit.” 

“Gross,” said Dina. “And here I was thinking that it was just all being proper and mannerly.”

“Everyone has their limits,” you said lightly.

The penthouse felt just as oppressive as when you came for dinners, like you were walking into the lair of a dragon who was coming back at any moment. Chris was gone—likely participating in the festival herself—but you were surprised to see the figure of Petra bent in a corner as you entered, dusting the top shelf of their bookcase.

You and Dina politely greeted her before ascending the steps to your father’s office.

“Why did your Mom put it in here?” Dina asked as you began shuffling through papers to find the box that your mother had described over text.

“My father doesn’t work in here all too often,” you said, opening a few drawers and seeing no trace of the green and gold box. “He just uses it to file away things.” 

“What does he do?” 

“I actually have no clue,” you confessed. “He doesn’t talk about it, and I don’t ask.” 

“Do you want to see if we can find out?” Dina asked with a conspiratorial raise of her eyebrow as she motioned towards the filing cabinets. “Just a quick look. They’ll never know that we were here.”

You took a moment to consider. If Chris had answered the door to let you two in, you would’ve told her that you couldn’t, because she would definitely snitch if she knew. But she was nowhere to be seen, and Petra looked like she was busy enough downstairs. 

“Sure. Why not.” 

The first few cabinets held nothing interesting—just spending reports and copies of contracts that were written in legalese. 

“It looks like he works with whoever supplies this place,” remarked Dina as you two skimmed the papers and saw records of contacts all over the continent, from the old continental US and South America, each detailing something boring about shipping dates and inventory. 

But then came the third cabinet, with papers dated back before you were born with what looked like sketches of barren looking buildings and hand-scrawled notes. 

“What are these?” you breathed, laying them out on the ground. 

“I think…” Dina squinted. “I think that these might be manufacturing plants?” 

“Oh?” You dug further around in the cabinet to see if you could find any further illuminating evidence. 

“Yeah,” said Dina, staring as she began to flip through the pages already on the floor. “Holy shit, dude. This is…sort of messed up. Look at how small these living quarters are.”

You peered over her shoulder to see the architectural sketches of what looked to be more of what you imagined a prison to be. There were long bunks stacked on top of each other in what looked to be a never ending line, the mattresses barely even large enough to be considered twins. 

Someone cleared their throat behind you, and you nearly leapt.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” said Petra. Her voice was low and raspy. You noted that it was the first time she’d ever spoken.

“Oh, uh—” You began to frantically gather the papers, hoping she hadn’t seen. Would she tell your parents? “Sorry if we disturbed your work. My parents, uh, they asked us to get something from—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you.” You stared up at her steely green eyes, wondering what had compelled her to approach you and Dina. “Um, is there anything we can do to help you?”

“Don’t drink the bourbon,” she said, so quickly that it seemed to fluster her. 

“What? Why?”

“Just don’t do it,” she said again. “Better yet, don’t drink anything except for the water.”  

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling genuinely apologetic. “I’m not sure if I understand.”

Something crossed over Dina’s face, and suddenly something in her seemed to shift. Her features paled. She knew something you didn’t.

“I came from one of those places,” Petra said, motioning to the diagrams that you were staring at. “They’re not—they’re not somewhere you want to be. We all try our best to come here. That’s what they tell us, you know. Do well enough and you’ll get sent to where everyone gets to live a life of grandeur and luxury. But they barely send anyone, and when they do, they get shitty positions like this.” 

Your breath caught in your throat as your understanding slowly grew. Of course. How had you been so stupid to think that wealthy people were ever going to have any of their kind work any real job? 

“You two were the ones who came from outside, right?” Petra continued. When you two nodded, she crouched next to you. “And you were wondering what was going on with the prices?”

You nodded again, awestruck.

“Your Dad’s little spiel on it being about bad weather is bullshit,” she said, her words hard. “People are getting tired of this. They’re realizing they’re never getting out. You know what it’s like out there—it’s scary. It’s tiring. So many people get sick, so many die. So when people finally caught onto the fact that the work they’re doing is nothing but dressed up slavery and that their chances of getting out are basically zero, they start doing things to mess with the system.”

“Like contaminating the products?” Even as she said it, it seemed like Dina already knew the answer. 

Petra just gave you two a long look. 

“So that’s what he meant by quality control,” you said, the realization hitting you. 

“Among other things.” 

“How long do you think we have?” asked Dina.

“Not very long at all.” 

“You guys can’t be serious,” you said, nervous laughter catching in your chest. “Do you seriously mean that Terranova isn’t going to be around for much longer? Is that what you’re saying?”

Petra shrugged and stood up. “Believe whatever you want. But from where I stand, it looks like there’s only two possible ways out of this situation. That is, unless you guys all become farmers.”

“I don’t think I’m following,” you said.

“Two options,” Petra said, sighing heavily. “Either we starve or we don’t. And the latter means taking a really big fucking chance on what we bring in.”

“But the system has worked for so long,” you said, more to yourself than anyone else. 

“Too long,” she amended. “It was never sustainable. Maybe if you people had been okay with just eating native plants and wildlife. Maybe if you people were okay with changing your way of life. But no, you just had to have your fucking oranges from Florida and your coffee from South America.” 

“Don’t lump me into this,” said Dina. “I just got here.” 

Petra laughed, but it was a hard and sharp sound. “Well, chances are you won’t be here for long.”

“Hang on,” you said. “We’re still doing quality control inspections. The most likely scenario is that we’re going to have to cut down on imports—not that we’re about to go up in flames any minute.”

“I hope you’re right about that,” she said in that voice that told you that she thought that you definitely weren’t and didn’t see the point in arguing further. “Anyways, I’ve got to finish working so I can get home before dark. Be careful, okay?” 

“You too,” you said. “And thanks for…not saying anything.”

It was a bit presumptuous considering that Petra hadn’t really given you any good reason beyond her word that she wouldn’t mention you lurking in your father’s cabinets, so you and Dina were thorough in carefully placing each file back into the correct place, just in case. 

“Do you really think what she said is true?” you asked once you and Dina had located the watch and were on the metro once again.

Dina shrugged. “I mean, it makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Look,” said Dina. “I know that this might be hard for you to hear, but I’m pretty sure this place lives off of what’s basically slave labor. If there’s any humanity left in the world, I would like to think that Terranova would eventually fall.” 

You swallowed hard, then blinked. For a moment you thought you were going to throw up. “I never knew. I didn’t realize.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Dina’s voice was surprisingly patient. “You were a kid. But you’re not anymore, so it’s time to grow up and face the music.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either.” 

The two of you fell into a silence as the train sped past empty platforms bathed in shadows and you thought and thought and thought. 

There was just too much happening today. First Gunther’s lab, then Ellie, now your entire worldview toppling. 

As the train windows continued to blur the background of the tunnels and empty stations, your mind spun with reflections of your childhood—of you enjoying simple luxuries that you didn’t realize came at the expense of others. That you didn’t even think to ask about. You’d mindlessly trudged along, eating your exotic fruits and drinking your expensive tea and wearing clothes built from indulgent fabrics just because you could. Even when Dina had asked where the oranges came from all the way back in Jackson, you hadn’t let yourself wonder. You hadn’t let yourself consider the possibility that it was anything less than the sanitized fairyland that you’d been brought up in—perhaps because you knew all along. 

And that made it even worse.

Dina seemed to understand, sending you a few glances without prodding. 

“Do you think we need to leave?” you asked, your voice just barely a whisper.

“Us leaving isn’t going to do anything,” Dina said, like she’d been expecting it. “And how would we even do that? It’s not like we can just charter a helicopter again to drop us off back in Jackson.” 

Something twisted inside of you. “Oh, God. You’re right. We couldn’t even leave if we tried.”

And you might have to try, a sinister voice inside you whispered. What if Petra was right about the contaminated products? What if they missed something when checking imports?

You’d never been taught how quickly the fungus spread in the original outbreak, and you knew little about the normal amount of time it would take any sort of disease to infect the entire population. But you did know how densely populated everything was. How reliant everything was on a few strictly maintained channels, like public transportation. 

It wouldn’t be hard for it to all come crashing down, really. It would just take the right place at the right time and—

“Don’t freak out, Y/N.” Dina laid a hand on your shoulder. “We’ll figure something out if it comes to that.” 

You smiled at her, grateful that you didn’t even have to put your words into thoughts. “But if we can’t leave, what do we do? It’s not like we can just sit by and do nothing.”

Dina pulled her bottom lip under her teeth, worrying it before answering. “I don’t really think that we have a choice. Right now, at least. I don’t know if there’s anything that just the two of us can do.”

“I’ll find more,” you said. “I’ll talk to my professors—my friends at university—Simon—”

“Do you think that we’re the only two that know about this?” asked Dina. “Because I really don’t. Maybe your friends don’t. But anyone in the military and anyone who was around when this was founded has got to know. They just don’t care enough.”

Something slowly iced over inside of you as the implications sunk in. 

Gunther had probably known. No, scratch that—he definitely did. He was an academic who had been in his 30s when the world fell apart. Any adult would have asked the same questions that Dina had upon arrival. 

“We’ll figure something out, I’m sure,” said Dina firmly. “Okay? Don’t worry.” 

“Speaking of Simon,” you said, narrowing your eyes, “Did you ever get in touch with him? Is his family okay?” 

“Oh, yeah.” said Dina. “He texted me back a bit ago. Said something about how he was just busy and that his family had been camping up in the mountains.” 

You two faded into silence. 

The retirement party came and went without much trouble. On the outside, at least. You were a mental wreck, barely able to keep it together as near strangers came up to you and expressed how much bigger you were since they’d seen you a decade and a half ago. 

You noted with muted suspicion that Simon’s parents were nowhere to be seen amongst the crowd, not even by the lavishly decorated bar. 

~

That night, you did dream of Ellie. It wasn’t the usual. Ellie wasn’t turning in front of you or bleeding or crying out in pain with a bite mark on her arm. She wasn’t yelling at you for failing her and letting her get bitten without even noticing. No; instead, she lay beside you in your meadow spot and talked to you.

And somehow that was so much worse.

“I named a planet after you,” you said, feeling hot tears pool at the seams of your eyes that you squeezed together to avoid sobbing. You knew you were dreaming. You always knew you were dreaming—seeing Ellie always seemed to prompt a degree of lucidity that was otherwise missing in your sleep. 

“That’s really fucking sappy of you.”

“I miss you.” It came out like a compulsion, like you couldn’t stop it. “Are you here? Are you with me?”

“Y/N,” Ellie said, turning to look at you. The darkness made it difficult to see her whole face, but you could see the look of pity on her features in the gray-blue of the moonlight. “Of course I’m not here. Don’t be stupid. I’m dead.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re not. Like, if something happened.”

“Something did happen. I died.” 

“Fuck you.”

She smiled sadly, and for a moment you thought her eyes looked more reflective than usual. “It’s not very helpful to think that way. And what can I tell you? I’m not even real.”

“I’d like you to try,” you whispered.

“Fine.” She sat up, pulling her legs into a lazy tangle as she looked at you. “What did you seriously expect, dude? You were never going to stay. I wasn’t going to go. If I hadn’t been bitten, I’m sure I would’ve orchestrated some way to get out of it. My family is back in Jackson. I liked you just fine, but you’re not my family. That shit’s deeper. Different.” 

You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. The sharp pain in your chest faded into a cold sense of familiarity. Then, because she wasn’t real and there was no reason to feel embarrassed about bearing your emotions: 

“You feel more like family than anyone here.” 

“Then that sounds like a you problem,” said Ellie, flatly. “I’m not gonna let you guilt trip me like this. Boo fucking hoo, you grew up richer than everyone else on Earth and had to deal with strict parents. Do you realize what actual, real problems are? What about the people who make your lifestyle possible, huh? What about them?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Then you’re fucking stupid.” 

The tears were streaming freely down your face now. “I would do anything to be back with you. I wanted to stay. I miss you so much. I don’t know what to do with myself without you.”

“And I’m sorry you have to deal with that.” 

“Will you just say that you miss me too? You don’t have to mean it. I just want—I just want to hear it.” 

“I can’t miss you. I’m not around anymore.” 

Ellie watched as you curled in on yourself and sobbed so hard you thought you were going to be sick. 

“You’re so weak,” she said after a few minutes. There was no venom in her tone. It was as if she was merely relaying something as inconsequential as the weather to you. “All you do is expect other people to care for you.” 

Not real. Not real. Not real you repeated to yourself in your mind with growing franticness. 

She wasn’t real. None of this was real. Ellie was never that affectionate with you, but this was another level. This was something personal. 

“You said that being weak isn’t bad.”

“And you said that you were going to make sure I was going to get to Terranova.”

 “And it’s not my fault that you decided to go gallivanting alone in the woods.”

“You could’ve tried harder.”

“I did as much as I could.”

“Sure you did.” 

You bolted awake. The hair at the nape of your neck was wet with the slick of sweat. For a moment, you let yourself catch your breath, reorient yourself in your surroundings. 

Your room. You were in your dorm room, with your space posters and your books. Ellie hadn’t been here. She hadn’t said that. You were okay.

A blaring noise jarred you as you realized that your alarm had made you wake up. Your alarm, because it was graduation day and you needed to be ready for a full day of festivities. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, scrubbing your face with you hands. The last thing you wanted to do after this was have to see your parents and pretend like you like them for appearances. 

She's gone. She's gone. She's gone you repeated in your head like a mantra. It was over. You shouldn’t have named that stupid planet after her, because she was gone and she always would be.

It would only be a matter of time until your parents would start asking you about your dating life, you realized as you brushed your teeth over the shiny white basin of your sink, the minty bubbles making your lips tingle. They’d been willing to entertain your reasoning of wanting to focus on your studies while you were at university, but you knew they’d been looking for prospective engagements behind your back.

It took you longer than usual to get ready, your mind wandering as you lingered in different corners of your apartment. You kept the lights off, opting to let the cool, gray daylight from the gloomy clouds wash the surfaces of your room. 

“Hey,” said Dina, appearing from her own room and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Good morning,” you greeted blandly, your attention on the necklace that just wouldn’t clasp around your neck.

“Looking spiffy,” she said. “By the way, did Simon say anything to you?” 

“No.” You paused and turned to her, a frown on her face. As far as you were concerned, you really had no reason to be in contact with Simon beyond the general pleasantries. 

“He just called me,” said Dina. “He seemed—I dunno. Like, weirdly frantic. He was saying that we need to stop by his.” 

“His” was inconveniently on the opposite side of the city, even further past your parents’ place. 

“Why? Pretty far for a short jaunt.” 

“He was really insistent,” pressed Dina. Her long black curls were unruly, her skin sallow in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. She hadn’t been sleeping as well recently, it seemed, just like you since you’d spoken to Petra. “Maybe we should just stop by.” 

“Did he say anything about why?”

“I tried to ask,” said Dina, frowning. “But the call dropped.”

“I hate how horrible service is in your room,” you said. 

“Me too. Anyway, are we gonna see him?” 

You shrugged. “I guess. We have some time. I’ll text him too just to see what’s going on.” 

Dina was ready in just a few minutes, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over her shirt and stepping into her shoes. 

“You look soooo cute,” she said, pinching your cheeks. “My little grad.”

You rolled your eyes, but the size of your smile ruined it. 

For once in your life, you noticed that the university green outside of your apartment was suspiciously empty. 

“Quiet,” Dina noted as you made your way to the metro. “It’s eerie.” 

“People were probably partying all night,” you said. “Celebrating graduation and whatnot. I imagine everyone’s sleeping off a hangover instead of having to get up at the crack of dawn to voyage across the city.”

Dina held up her hands. “Gee. Sorry.” 

The train was a little more populated. Some older Terranovans had newspapers cracked as they licked their fingers to turn the page. The silent hum of the train lulled you into another soliloquy as the tunnel plunged you into darkness.

You had to stop thinking about Ellie. You needed to move on, as awful as it was. You’d named a planet after her. She’d be forever remembered in the stars, and that should be enough. You didn’t need to keep dragging her memory behind you like a corpse, because she was dead and she was never coming back and she was—

On the platform?

Your mouth dropped as the doors of the train slowly rolled open to reveal a short girl with shoulder length auburn hair slowly ambling towards the platform. She was wearing a pale green short sleeve that had some sort of edgy spatter pattern on it—something that was very Ellie-esque. But something wasn’t…

It took you one breath to notice that neither of her bare arms had any tattoos. It took you another to see that what you had initially assumed to be a pattern was actually blood-soaked fabric formed from red rivelets that trickled from a wound on her neck.

“Holy fuck,” you whispered, grabbing Dina’s hand. “Do you see—”

“Everybody run!” Dina screamed, leaping up from the train seat and dragging you with her as she bolted off the train and to the opposite exit. 

The girl wailed and barrelled towards the train car, her eyes locking onto the nervous movement of the passengers. You froze. It was slowly becoming obvious that this wasn’t Ellie, from the slightly different set of her eyes to the unfamiliar button nose. But it was hard to not feel anything but sympathy for the monster before you. She was just a girl, probably younger than you. 

“Fucking go, Y/N,” Dina snapped, yanking you harder and onto the platform just as Not-Ellie leapt onto one of the newspaper readers. “It’s not her.” 

She didn’t need to tell you twice. In seconds you two had sprinted to the mouth of the stairs, feet pummeling against the pavement as the sounds of the carnage unfolding behind you followed. 

You ran. You didn’t stop running, not even when the screams faded and you and Dina were blocks and blocks away, hidden in an alley. Not even when your lungs were so empty and sore that they felt like they were breaths away from breaking, not even when you were sure there was nothing left inside you.

Dina kept your pace, blindly following your lead as you darted in between streets and side alleys until you reached your parents’ apartment. 

“Do you think there’s more?” you managed to whisper through heaving voices once you stood on the steps. 

You and Dina hadn’t ran into anyone after the metro, undead or alive. 

“Not here,” hissed Dina. “Inside first. Then we evaluate after we’re safer.” 

For a moment, the phantom dread from your normal life spilled over and you were afraid of facing your parents. It was almost laughable—there were deranged infected hosts looking to eat your flesh roaming the streets, and you were worried about seeing your parents. 

“I’d almost prefer out here, too,” said Dina, looking as if she’d read your mind. 

The apartment complex was also empty and eerily quiet as you two ascended the steps. Dina had insisted that you took the stairs, pointing out that the elevator was far too risky. 

“It might get stuck,” she’d whispered as she’d pulled you away from pressing the button. “Also—unnecessary noise.” 

You nodded wordlessly, following her up the steps until you reached the top floor.

Still no one to be seen.

The spare key was still hidden under the flower pot, and the penthouse door swung open easily. You and Dina locked it behind you before dragging a small bookcase in front of it, piling on books until no one could physically break through. 

“Sweep the apartment,” Dina said lowly, reaching over to grab the fireplace poker that was in the entryway. “Behind me until you get a weapon.” 

For a few tense moments, you cowered behind Dina as she navigated you both into the dark, empty kitchen. Every breath that left your lips was shaky and uneven. Your fingers trembled around the handle of the butcher’s knife that you’d retrieved from the block. 

Nothing was on the first floor. 

Nothing on the second floor, either. There was no sign of your parents anywhere. By all accounts, it seemed that they’d just up and left for coffee. Which is probably what they’d done, given that your father had just retired and had nothing better to do. 

“Fucking thank god,” you’d cried out once you’d swept the last room, collapsing onto the sitting room sofa. “Jesus Christ, Dina. What the fuck. I can’t believe I just—”

The words petered out as the adrenaline rush that had been keeping you at least someone composed dissipated, leaving you a shaking and inconsolable mess. 

“We’re so lucky that we got out in time,” said Dina, her eyes blurry and unfocused.

You took a break from your crying to look at her. “What?”

“The doors close automatically,” she said flatly. “No motion sensor. If that girl had shown up any later—if we hadn’t noticed her in time—”

“We would’ve been stuck on the train with her,” you said, cold realization trickling into you. “Oh my god. That probably happened to the people on the train who weren’t quick enough.”

“Or didn’t know any better,” Dina added. “Didn’t you say that no one here really understands what the infection is? That it makes people hosts?” 

Your heart dropped. “We’re so fucked. We need to get out.” 

“Have a plane anywhere?”

“Oh, god, Simon,” you wailed. “He was probably—he must’ve known—his parents must have—”

“Let’s not dwell,” said Dina firmly, brushing her hands off on her pants. “Okay. Let’s take inventory of the situation. That girl likely wasn’t patient zero. Wherever she came from was around…8th street?” 

You nodded.

“Right. 8th street, which is where the majority of non-student residential living spaces are. Chances are that if it wasn’t already, it’s all over that area. We came south, which is away from the most densely populated area and probably why we haven’t seen anyone else. We’re up high with what seems to be currently running water, no current activity in the building, and plenty of both perishable and nonperishable food. 

“But this isn’t permanent. The power grid is going to fail soon, and plumbing is likely going to go next. And if we somehow make it long enough, any infected in the building are going to turn into clickers, and they’ll stop at nothing to get in. Our window is limited. If we wait to get out, they’re going to get stronger and grow in numbers. We need to play this right.”

“So what you’re saying is that if there’s any possible chance of escape,” you said, feeling the blood drain from your face, “That we need to take it.”

Dina nodded, her face hard. 

“How long do you think we have until we have to make that choice?” 

She winced. “Probably 2 hours ago. There’s likely enough infected scattered around the city after the metro incident that it’s all over now.”

Your stomach dropped. 

“But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try,” said Dina. “It’s only going to get worse the longer we wait. So if that big fancy scientist brain of yours has any genius plans of how to get us out, please hurry it up and say so.” 

“Well,” you said, your mouth dry as you brainstormed aloud, “We are at the southern tip of the city. We’re probably not all that far from the border. The problem would be getting across—and, of course, getting there in the first place. It’s designed to be deceptive so that raiders can’t find it.” 

“We’re not going to cross the border,” said Dina. “We’re never getting across on foot unless it’s been destroyed. Simon told me about how it works. There’s quite literally zero chance unless we start tunneling underground.” 

“So no crossing on foot,” you said weakly. “Noted. Well. Uh. Can you fly a plane?”

“Depends. Do you have one?” 

You buried your face in your hands. 

“Come on, Y/N. Think. There has to be another option.” 

Another option. Another option. Think, think, think…

Scientist brain. Science. 

Like your degree. Like the lab you’d been working in last year. Like the ill-fated experiment that you’d scrapped after the university cut funding for it after your accident.

Like the time that you’d actually succeeded in inventing teleportation, even if it was accidental.

Like the contraption that was likely gathering dust in an unlocked lab room just a few blocks away. 

“Dina,” you said, “I’ve got it. But I need you to get me to Gunther’s lab.” 

The only good thing about today was the fact that Gunther’s lab, which was normally an inconvenient train ride away from your apartment, was in fact within perfectly reasonable walking distance from your parents’. 

There were many bad things, though. Namely the infected now roaming the streets. And the plumes of smoke rising in the distance, suggesting that the Terranovan authorities were attempting to quell the issue the old-fashioned way. 

With two knives and a pistol in your hand (you’d never been more happy to see something actually useful in your father’s antique collection), you were at least feeling more prepared to slowly creep back down the staircase of the building and out onto the streets. 

For the first two blocks, everything remained uneventful. You and Dina stuck close to the shadows, being careful not to speak, make any noise, or bump into anything noisy. 

Then a girl that looked somewhat familiar to you came stumbling around the corner, cloudy orange saliva dripping from her ashen lips. She locked onto you and began to excitedly chitter, her jerky movements becoming more pointed as she started approaching. 

“Knife,” Dina whispered, flicking your arm once she saw you raise your pistol. “Too loud.” 

It was your first kill without the help of a bullet. As the blade slid across the throat of the girl, you realized where you recognized her from—she’d been one of the students you’d tutored back in high school. You’d always liked her. Her name had been Liesel, and she was one of your best pupils. She’d been so bright. You thought she’d end up skipping senior year and just coming with you to college. 

Not anymore. You tried not to think too hard about the look you’d seen in her eyes right as you severed her carotid artery—something human, something cognisant. You couldn’t cope with what that implied. 

Did Ellie look like that? No, surely not. It’d been over a year. She was likely a clicker by now, her freckled face entirely swallowed by the spore shards. But was she still in there, like Liesel had been?

The next ones were easier—random men whose eyes remained flat and flinty even as you sent them to their ends. By the time you and Dina had broken into Gunther’s lab, you were splattered in blood and assorted mystery fluids. 

The sterile building was empty and deathly silent. Each step on the tiled floor echoed, the fluorescent lighting painfully bright. 

“Are there any workers in here usually?” Dina asked, her voice low. 

“Rarely,” you whispered back. “It’s normally totally empty beside me or Gunther.”

“I hope you’re right.” 

A long screeching that sounded like it came from a few doors down made you freeze.

“Let’s move,” Dina said under her breath. “I don’t want to find out who that is.” 

Gunther’s lab was nearly just as you remembered it. The only difference was the missing files on his desk, which suggested that he’d taken his work home with him. 

As you’d hoped, the prototype you’d developed in your third year was under a white sheet, almost entirely untouched. 

“This is what sent you to Jackson?” Dina whispered in wonder, her fingers hovering over the wires but not daring to touch.

In actuality, it was a very small contraption, just transistors and gates and wires that crossed over each other like veins. It had been intended for use on laboratory rats. It’d never been sized to people. But if this was your only shot…

“I can’t remember exactly what Gunther and I did to—”

Scratchhhhhh.

Your blood ran cold. Something was outside the door. 

“I’ll cover it,” said Dina, her voice firm. Don’t worry.”

And you wouldn’t—not when there was one zombie against you and Dina, armed to the teeth.

“Uh, anyway—” You blinked as you stared down at the mess of wires. “Technically what happened was it short-circuit—”

Scratch scratch scratch

You gulped. “Um, like I was saying, it short—”

Scratchscratchscratchscratch

To punctuate the point, the door creaked and shifted. 

Dina pressed her finger to her lips as she slowly crept over to the door, standing on her toes to look through the thin strip of plexiglass that ran across the top of the door. 

For a moment, you thought that she’d frozen. Then she quietly stepped over to the desk, snatched the pen Gunther had lying around, and scribbled something onto it. She handed it to you, her finger still posed over her lips. 

7 of them. All big. I think they followed us from the street.

Just as you finished reading it, the doorknob began to turn, back and forth and back and forth against the lock. 

Dina pulled the note from your fingers to scribble something else out. 

Don't say anything. Noise will send them into a feeding frenzy. Door won't hold long. Do whatever you need to fix it and get us out.

You nodded, your heart crawling in your throat. If you couldn’t figure out how to fix this in time…Gunther’s lab was on the 6th floor. 

There were only 3 bullets in the pistol—you’d checked. And a kitchen knife was fine when you were out on the street facing one infected at a time, but 7 in an enclosed space was different.

You probably weren’t going to get out of here alive. 

Not unless you pulled it together right now. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you tried to run through all possible ways to recreate the conditions that had sent you to Jackson. You needed that special iridescent wire, which you could see shoved into the corner. You needed a power source. You needed a working circuit board. 

You had all of it. You could do this. 

SIlently, you retrieved the spool of wire and began reattaching it to the board in the pattern you vaguely recalled from your work. 

The lights flickered above, and it was all you could do to keep yourself from swearing out loud. 

The power needed to hold. It needed to hold for just one more minute, just for a moment while you finished configuring the—

Your hand knocked the spool to the floor.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The thudding started slower but crescendoed into the sound of groaning wood as the infected outside began to pound at the door. 

Dina waved a slip of paper in front of you with wide eyes that said Hurry the FUCK up!. 

You sent her a desperate look back. Your hands were shaking so hard that it was a miracle you were even able to feed the end of the wire through the pliers to snap off the end. You dug your nails into the protective sleeve at the end to expose the tip of the wire.

The door held just until you plugged the wire into the input. 

As it hummed to life, sputtering and sparking and shimmering in the air, the lights flickered once, then plunged you into darkness as the sound of wood splintering came from the door. 

Someone—it was probably you—screamed as a crowd came barrelling through the door, all hunched shoulders and gaping maws. 

Then you grabbed the hand of Dina and felt yourself tumble into nothingness. 

~

The sky was clear and bluebell blue above you when you came to, your back pressed uncomfortably against the sun-warmed earth. Every part of you ached like you’d just been run over, just like it had that day one year ago that started it all.

You didn’t need to look around to confirm—you were certain of where you were. You just knew it. 

A groaning sound made you shoot up, clutching at the pistol in your hand. 

Dina was sprawled on the ground next to you, rubbing her forehead with her hands. 

“We did it,” you said, astonished. “We actually did it. We got out.” 

“And you launched us out to Jackson.” Dina was sitting up now, looking around with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ. Are those things coming with us?”

“I don’t think so,” you said blandly. Your hands were still shaking, just as they had in the lab moments before. 

The backpack you’d packed with supplies lay strewn on the ground, covered in the dust of the clearing. 

“Are we—”

“I think so,” you said. “Funny how it sent us to the same place it sent me. I guess we’ll never figure out how, though.”

“Yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you acclimated to the bright Wyoming sun, the warmth of the air against your skin.

Your heart lurched as the implications sunk in. Now that you couldn’t pretend like Jackson had been some sort of distant memory, you were going to mourn Ellie all over again whether you liked it or not. 

“It’s going to be weird without her.” Dina was apparently on the same page. 

You choked back the sob that came up, rubbing your eyes angrily. You would not cry right now, not when you had more important things to attend to. 

“She really did love you, you know,” Dina continued, also apparently oblivious to the fact that you were just barely holding it together. “Even if she never said it. I’ve never seen her like that around anyone. I hope you haven’t been beating yourself up over what happened.”

You sent her a tight smile. It was odd, talking about Ellie like this with her. You’d never had before. It was one of those topics that you both knew to just avoid. “I just hope Joel is alright. I can’t imagine how difficult that would be—losing two daughters just like tha—”

A twig snapping in the woods sent you into silence, your hand drifting back down to your pistol as you spun around.

For a moment, all you could hear was the breath that hitched in both your and Dina’s throat. Then a girl with short brown hair burst through the tree line, her gun set on you. 

“Ellie?” you gasped. 

She fell still, mouth agape and eyebrows nearly touching her hairline.

“Ellie, what the fuck?” said Dina, recovering much quicker than you. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I—” Ellie dropped her pistol so it pointed to the ground, staring at Dina incredulously. “What are you doing here?” Then she rounded on you. “What did you do? You promised to stay in Terranova.” 

You couldn’t answer. You were just so starstruck that all you could was stare, taking in everything about her. She was certainly Ellie—with her stupid little flashlight on her backpack strap and her fern tattoo and the perpetual grumpiness etched on her face. It was strange to think that you could have mistaken anyone else for her.

“Well?” she pressed, stepping closer, her mouth in a hard line. 

“Terranova fell. It’s gone. I did what I had to do to get us out.” The words came out quietly. Then, without thinking: “You’re alive.” 

“Long story,” said Ellie. “I think the scanner was defective.” 

“That sounds like a pretty short story.”

She stared at you with an expression of such odd devastation that you felt your heart drop.

Dina jumped to her feet and launched herself at Ellie, throwing her arms around her neck and laughing hysterically. “I can’t believe it. I just—I just—you’re alive. I’m so glad you’re alive.” 

Ellie, for her part, stood mostly still, awkwardly patting Dina on the back until she was released. “I’m glad you are, too.”

You tried not to feel jealous, but it was hard not to. Dina could jump into Ellie’s arms and tell her nice things like that without having to think twice because they’d always been friends. You did, because you weren’t sure if Ellie would want that anymore. 

You didn’t try to touch her as she walked you and Dina back. She followed suit, not even trying to speak to you. 

By the time you were walking through the walls of Jackson and waving to the gaping passerbys who were shocked at your return, you felt like you were going to be sick. 

Ellie was alive. She’d never been dead, and you’d left her out here while you and Dina got to eat fancy Brazilian chocolates and Floridian oranges and artisanal bread. You’d been actively trying to forget her instead of trying to find her.

And now she was here, next to you. And she didn’t seem even remotely interested in you. But could you blame her? It had been a year. You’d left her to come back to Jackson all by herself. She didn’t have any reason to wait around for you. She’d probably found someone else. Or gotten back together with Cat.

And who were you to think that she’d even be interested in you if there wasn’t the guaranteed casualness from a definite end date? 

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Joel appeared on the front porch as you and Dina approached with Ellie flanking you, his eyes wide. 

“Joel!” you cried out, your angst briefly forgotten. 

His eyes darted between the three of you, his face awash with shock. “Did ya just get sick of living there or something?”

You looked down and surveyed your outfit. You were clearly wearing something that was intended to be formal—a flowing graduation dress—but you were splattered with blood and viscous mystery substances and covered in a healthy layer of dirt. You’d clearly gone through some shit. 

You were struggling to come up with a response other than “hey” when you were reminded of something you’d shoved into your bag while you’d been preparing to leave your parents’ penthouse. 

Feeling smug that you’d managed to remember, you reached into your pack and fished around until you found what you were looking for.

“We just figured you’d be almost out of this by now,” you said dryly. The value-sized bag of coffee beans dangled from your fingers, its maroon packaging catching in the sun. 

His face split into a wide grin as he shook his head in disbelief. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I guess I’ve got to tell Tommy that we don’t have to ration anymore. C’mon, let’s get you settled.”

~

Joel insisted that you move back into your old room instead of the vacant cottage down the street, which was equal parts touching and equal parts terrifying. Ellie lingered by the doorway as you unpacked, disappearing down the hall when you finally lifted your head from your few belongings to say something to her. 

You let out a long, labored exhale, dropping onto your bed and curling your knees up to your chest. You’d since changed and showered the dirt and blood off, shed your tattered graduation dress and left it gathered in the corner like a snake’s molt. The setting sun filtered through the curtains, turning the walls golden. 

You didn’t know what to do. That you could even come back to Jackson had been a thought you hadn’t dared to consider until this morning, when there were no other options. That Ellie was still alive—well, you hadn’t had any time to strategize or plan for that one. You were still reeling from seeing her for the first time in a year, all summer freckles and flyaway hairs escaping from a loose hairband.

She’d looked even better than you’d remembered. There were certain parts of her that you realized you’d forgotten—like the scar on her eyebrow, the way her voice sounded. It made you feel nauseous, knowing that despite your best efforts, you hadn’t been able to keep the real Ellie alive in your head. 

You’d already eaten something with Tommy and Maria, who had been insistent on hearing from you and Dina about the events in Terranova. Joel had left you to your own devices with instructions to see him tomorrow to figure out work after you’d had a decent rest, so there was really no reason to go roaming around hoping to run into Ellie. 

But you really wanted to. You checked the clock again, seeing that it was already past 9. Dusk had already fallen upon Jackson, the setting sun now just a suggestion of a golden line on the horizon.

You had a feeling you knew where she was. 

The meadow was just as lush and green as you remembered as your feet carried you across the grass. It seemed that really nothing had changed—except for the horses in the distance, where you could see a small foal beside a chestnut mare that you were pretty sure was Shimmer. 

“Hi,” you said, settling down next to Ellie’s spot under the tree. 

If she was surprised to see you, she didn’t show it. She just sighed and fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt. 

“Hi.” 

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” you said, keeping your eyes locked on the darkening sky. “I just wanted to come find you to tell you that I understand if you don’t—want me like that anymore. I’ll leave you alone if you want me to.” 

Even when she took her time responding, you didn’t dare look her way. 

“Is that what you want?” You couldn’t quite decipher the tone she’d used. 

“Obviously not,” you said mildly. “I would never want that.” 

“I wouldn’t either.” 

Your breath caught in your throat, your gaze dropping to meet hers. You were just about to speak when—

“The scanner wasn’t defective,” said Ellie. Her voice was soft, her own eyes falling to look at her tattooed arm. 

“Of course it was,” you said, feeling very confused as to why she was suddenly detouring into something so unrelated. “If it wasn’t, you’d be dead already.” 

“I’ve been bitten twice.”

You blinked, sure you’d heard her incorrectly. “Sorry?” 

“I’ve been bitten twice,” said Ellie again, this time with more conviction. “That’s why the scanner came back red. There was nothing wrong with it.” 

“Then how…” Your words trailed off. 

She didn’t let you ponder long. “I’m immune.” 

Immune. 

You closed your mouth—it’d been hanging open unceremoniously for a moment—and tried to fit this very startling fact in with everything else you knew about her. What did being immune mean? And why was she telling you now?

“You knew from the start that you couldn’t come with me to Terranova,” you realized aloud. 

Ellie was gnawing at her bottom look as she looked back at you. You noted that she didn’t offer up any corrections. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You couldn’t hide the hurt in your voice. “Why did you lie to me like that?” 

“I found out that I was immune when I was back in Boston,” Ellie said, the words spilling out of her. “I was in this abandoned mall with my best friend—Riley. She told me she was leaving to be a Firefly, and I begged her to stay and kissed her and for a moment I was so sure that something was going to change between us—something for the better. But then…” She waved her tattooed arm in front of her. “We both got bit. I survived. She, obviously, did not.”

Something deep inside you twisted as you tried to imagine how traumatizing that must’ve been for someone that couldn’t have been older than 14. 

“And so I thought that maybe, you were my chance to right what I’ve done wrong,” continued Ellie. Even though she wasn’t looking at you anymore, you could see the reflective sheen of tears in her eyes. “I’ve gotten to live while so many other people have died. I just can’t handle another. It’s not fair of me to keep someone here when there’s somewhere safer for them. It’s selfish, and I’ve been that enough.”

It was as if you’d found the last puzzle piece for the jigsaw of Ellie Williams. All this time, you’d been struggling in your attempts to understand why she was pushing you away—and why she changed her mind so suddenly. 

Now you got it. Ellie had come into this knowing that she’d likely never see you again. She’d been betting on it, even. It was all some convoluted way for her to set things right in her head, for her to forgive herself for Riley and whoever else she’d lost. 

“You could have told me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I would have understood.” 

Ellie sent you a sad smile, shaking her head. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone that I’m immune. It’s one of those things that only Joel and Maria and Tommy know about. No one else. They’d fucking kill me if they found out you knew.” 

“I’m really sorry.” The fabric of her t-shirt was soft under your fingers as you rested a hand on her shoulder. 

“I’m really sorry for how much of an asshole I was to you,” said Ellie. You didn’t miss the way her eyes had widened when you’d reached out to touch her. “I didn’t want to be that way. I always wanted more. I just couldn’t handle having that, knowing that you were going to leave anyway. I thought it’d be easier for the both of us if you thought I was awful.”

“Didn’t work very well.”

“Clearly.”

“I forgive you,” you said, moving your hand so you could thread your fingers into the loose strands that she hadn’t pulled into that baby bun she always wore. 

Instead of kissing you like you thought she might, she threw her arms around you and crushed herself against you, burying her face into your neck.

You held her there, feeling the way her frame trembled under the weight of a sob and tracing patterns across her back. 

“I missed you,” you whispered, your chin rested atop her shoulder. “I thought about you every day.”

Ellie clung to you harder as you shifted.

“I’m really sorry,” she said again, muffled against your neck. “I’m sorry for everything.” 

“I’m not.” You finally pulled away so that she had to look you in the eyes. Under the soft bath of moonlight, her green eyes glowed. “Terranova shouldn’t have existed in the first place. I’m glad that I got out. And I’m even more glad that it brought me back to you.” 

Her hand found yours, your fingers tangling.

“I used to spend all my free time wondering what you were doing up North,” said Ellie. You felt her thumb brush across the top of your hand. “I thought that maybe if I imagined you happy, it’d be easier.”

“What did you think I was doing?” 

The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Lots of studying, I assumed. And going to fancy events for rich people, eating all that expensive shit that the rest of the world can’t have.” 

“Not far off,” you admitted. “But you missed how much time I’d spend wondering about you. I dreamt about you all the time. Sometimes I’d see people who looked similar to you and it’d ruin my whole day. I couldn’t believe that you were gone. I think that deep down I knew that you weren’t.” 

She squeezed your hand. When you looked down at where you were touching, you noted how there wasn’t such a stark difference between you and her anymore. The doll fresh-out-of-the-box skin had disappeared in favor of scars and marks collected from your time in the real world. 

“I really thought you’d be safe there,” said Ellie. 

“You don’t need to worry about me like that anymore,” you told her, cupping her face with your free hand. Her eyelids fluttered half-closed as she leaned into the contact. “You’ve done enough. You can care about me without taking responsibility for everything bad that ever happens to me. You deserve to have something good without suffering because of it. I promise I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Not anymore,” she agreed. 

When you kissed her, it felt like coming home. There was something so achingly familiar in the slope of her neck, the slight chapped-ness of her lips, the almost silent click of her jaw as her mouth parted with a gasp as your hands twisted in her hair. 

You weren’t quite sure how you managed a year without it. 

The skin of her neck was just as soft as you remembered against your lips, her response just as reactive. 

“What’s this?” you asked, pulling away to point at what looked like a small tattoo on the side of her neck. You hadn’t noticed it before—her hair had been covering it. 

“Oh.” Ellie looked sheepish. “My free birthday tattoo from Cat. It’s the moon.” 

“I see that,” you murmured, brushing her hair back more intentionally to get a better look at it. “Why that phase?” 

“It’s the phase it would’ve been on the day we met,” said Ellie. She was bright red now. “Don’t fucking laugh. I know that it’s stupid. Shut up. Stop!” 

You desperately tried to stop your giggles, schooling your face into something straight and no-nonsense. 

“I spent so long wondering if you even liked me,” you told her. “And now you’ve gone and gotten a tattoo dedicated to me. I feel so validated.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“I have you beat, though,” you said, quieter now. 

She looked back at you, her brows furrowed. “Huh?” 

“When it comes to grand, stupid gestures,” you explained, your finger pointing up to the sky in the general area that you’d collected your data from. “There’s a planet named Ellie up there now.” 

Her jaw dropped for just a moment. “You’re kidding.” 

“No.” Now you were feeling slightly self-conscious. 

“You would do something like that,” Ellie muttered, more to herself than anything. “A whole fucking planet.” 

You let her drape an arm around you, pulling you into her until your head fit into the space between her shoulder and her chin. 

“So,” Ellie said, and you could feel the words vibrate in her diaphragm, “What now?” 

“What do you mean, what now?” 

“I mean, what are you gonna do now that you’re stuck here with me for the foreseeable future?” 

“Enjoy being stuck with you,” you said. “Maybe get a matching tattoo. Give you the piece of the meteorite I nabbed from the display case in my lab. But mostly spend my time bothering you.”

When she didn’t answer, you shifted so you could look up at her. She was already looking back, her eyes soft and the corners of her lips pulling into two dimples. 

“Is that alright with you?’ you ventured.

Her arm tightened around you, fingers gently pressing into the flesh of your forearm like she still couldn’t quite believe you were there. 

“You can be so fucking stupid sometimes,” she said. “I get a tattoo for you and you’re still asking if I want you around.” 

“It’s been known for you to make rash decisions,” you offered dryly. “I didn’t want to jump to any assumptions.”

 She rolled her eyes, still smiling down at you, eyes awash with the reflections of the stars above. 

Slowly, you reached up and touched her face again, letting your fingers relearn her features, tracing the paths created by freckles—just like you had in her bed all those months ago. 

But unlike last time, she didn’t stop you. She didn’t do anything except let you. There was something in her demeanor, something that was fragile and vulnerable and everything that you wanted her to be with you.

“Is this going to be enough for you?” she asked suddenly, her voice raw. 

“What do you mean?” Your fingers paused and rested at her cheekbones.

“It’s just—” She blinked hard and cast her gaze up to the sky. “You grew up so differently than me. I’m not going to be able to give you that fancy Terranova life. Are you sure this is going to make you happy?” 

“Yes.” 

She looked at you, an eyebrow raised skeptically. Your hands moved to cup her face, fingers threading back into her hair. 

“Don’t make that face,” you chided.

“I just find it really hard to believe.” 

You took in a breath. Perhaps more elaboration was in order.

“I’ll put it like this,” you said. “I spent most of my life thinking I needed to be something extraordinary to be happy. I put so much time into trying to be special and nothing I did ever felt like it was enough. But then I met you, and one day I realized while I was here that I didn’t need that anymore. Just being around you makes me more content than I’ve ever been. I don’t want to be like what I was before. I would consider it my greatest success if I got to lead an ordinary life with you.”

You took her brief silence as an opportunity to press your lips to the corner of her mouth.

“Believe me now?” you asked. 

Ellie nodded, leaning in to drop an affectionate kiss at the top of your nose. 

And as you sat there, nestled into the warmth of her side and craning your head up to the sky, you’d never been more sure of yourself. 

This would be more than enough. 

final a/n: ok so some apologies are in order for this one! first of all, sorry for aborting jj lmao. i just couldn't envision doing light speed travel with a baby strapped to dina. big apologies for not including a final smut scene. i actually had one semi-drafted out because i wanted to write one where ellie bottomed bc i feel like it would really hammer in that she was finally choosing to be vulnerable, but the shift in the scene tone just didn't sit right with me. sometimes i write bonus scenes for big fics like this, so if there's enough interest i might write a short one shot of the scene i scrapped/other scenes that i also scrapped. also, speaking of things i scrapped: i had an alternate ending in mind where joel actually did die and ellie went on her seattle rampage + y/n realizes she's alive and tries to sneak out with dina to find her. i might end up writing that one too, depending on interest! anyway, thank you all for coming along on this journey with me so far! it's not totally over yet...the epilogue is still in the works! i appreciate hearing what you guys think of this and hope you all enjoyed !!!

also idk if this is important to bring up but i will say that i didn't realize the kind of message i'd be sending when i wrote a protagonist who's from a place like terranova—exoplanet isn't meant to be some sort of piece that makes you empathize with ignorant beneficiaries of slave labor...it's just the way it shook out and for that i'm sorry 😭

[ninja-muse]

The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door by H.G. Parry is like coming home after a long day and having someone to share a comforting, knowing sigh with. It's hot tea on a blustery weekend, a beam of light splitting rain clouds, and an acknowledgement that the world has always been complicated and imperfect and worth fighting for. It is, in other words, another pretty much perfect novel from Parry and as written for me as I thought it would be.

I don't know where to begin, really. My instinct right now is to wave my hands dramatically and say: this! this! so good! everything! just! aaah! Which is, I realize, not all that helpful. So let's start with the fact that this is a memoir. Clover, the narrator, has lived the story already and is telling us what happened, with compassion for her younger self, and criticism, and regrets, and a commitment to the truth. It feels very much like other books I've read looking back at the time between the wars, that mix of nostalgia for youth and excitement and novelty, and awareness that it can't last, that it was spurred on by a world that had fractured, that there was darkness at the edges of everything. (This has to be intentional; the book begins in 1920.)

This is also a magic school novel. It's a story of a girl fighting her way into a magical university, determined to find a way to break the faerie curse on her veteran brother. It's about finding a friend group and falling into research and learning about a hidden world. It's about the joy, and the pain, of striking out on your own as an adult. And it's about what happens when all of your hopes and dreams go awry, as well as the dangers of messing with the fae. It's not quite dark academia, but it's certainly on that continuum.

Where Parry really excels though, here and always, is her characters. Clover feels real. Her friends and family feel real. They're people shaped by their circumstances, full of complexity and contradictions, not beings whipped up by an author or puppets on a stage to further an end. They do things and make mistakes that take the story in unexpected directions and, generally, lend the book a richness that a lot of novels lack. That's one of the reasons I'm calling this a memoir. It felt like I was reading something that actually happened, told by someone who experienced history.

So: we've got the 1920s, a magical school, faerie lore. That could easily lead to something trite and repetitive, but Parry lends it all so much nuance, so much shading, that even when it felt familiar, it also felt fresh. (For instance, a lot of the faerie stuff reminds me of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, but tackled from a different angle.) I loved the way the themes and narrative wove together, the way Parry believably builds up the historical world, the way she has of foreshadowing and then surprising the reader anyway. The way she merged the tropes and "genres" together felt seamless and, dare I say, magical.

You might notice that I haven't really said much about what the book's about or what happens in it. I don't think I can, without ruining the experience. I can't very well say this goes in unexpected directions if I also tell you what to expect, after all, and a lot of what Parry is actually talking about will be more powerful if you have to put the pieces together in time with the characters. I went in blind, knowing only what was in the reasonably unhelpful blurb, and my experience was all the better for it.

In short, this was a wonderful read and one that pulled me in and kept me close. If you're a fan of anything I've mentioned in this review—Oxford novels, magic schools, dark faeries, character-driven stories, the 1920s, etc—I highly recommend checking this out, especially if you've been on the fence about it. Take this review as a sign.

[haitaniapologist]

mon soleil ( lyney x fem!reader )

warnings — royal au, general fluff, indications of human trafficking, misogyny, class clash(?), if you squint enough spoilers of the fontaine archon quests and lyney's story quest.

hi! june making a comeback bc lyney is my newest obsession. reblogs and comments are appreciated!

you never understood why you were so fascinated by magic. maybe it was because of how it could bring a bit of color to your dull life, or maybe it was because of the pair of violet eyes from your childhood that always managed to make you smile with some tricks. 

the second option was the truth, but you never spoke about it out loud. the memory of grayish hair and purple eyes was so old that it was almost fading away, and you couldn't remember his face nor his name — sometimes you wondered if he was just an illusion your mind made up to compensate for the lonely years of your childhood, however, your gut always told you he was real. 

the magician from your childhood plagued your dreams with the doubt of his very existence, until a fateful day when a magic show was held in the chief of justice's state.  

as the daughter of one of fontaine's forum members and a count, you were expected to follow your father and sit pretty at his side during such endeavors, maybe to find a husband or just as an ornament for him to show off — but you hated it, because it only showed you how lonely you were. all the other girls were friends and could dance freely with whoever asked for one, while you sat at your father's side, though, sometimes, the conversations you heard were quite interesting. 

your father always said he was doing it to protect you, so, when he announced another ball at the chief of justice's state, you paid no mind. a new dress and new jewels were at your bed when the time came, and you got ready like you always used to. 

the way to the chief of justice's house was the same, though you could see more commoners than normal crowind in the streets. before you could even ask your father if there was having some kind of celebration for them, he already started to complain, and the mask took over your face — it was how you called your ability to hear what the nobles said with a neutral face, even if you wanted to roll your eyes and sneer at their nauseous word. 

the mask stayed in your face the whole way and even when you arrived at the fancy state, greeting the other nobles and hearing them talk nonsense about the crowd in the way. the ballroom was decorated slightly differently, as if the chief of justice prepared a show for his guests, as the chairs were facing a stage and unknown staff members were running around. 

the talk only stopped when the chief of justice himself arrived at the small circle you were in with your father, and you averted your eyes to your shoes. monsieur neuvilette, as kind as he was, still had a position greater than yours. 

“mademoiselle y/n.” he greeted you, gloved hand taking yours and soft lips caressing your knuckles. you gave him a courtesy, the mask still on your face, though you felt nervous — you could feel a pair of eyes watching your very movement, as if waiting for you to notice them. “i hope the magic show will be of your liking.” 

at the word magic, your eyes lit up, and you finally looked at the chief of justice's face. “magic show?” you asked in surprise, mind already thinking about the violet eyes of your childhood.

the mask probably slipped off, as when you focused back on neuvilette's face, he was giving you the gentlest smile you ever saw. “indeed. i saw one of the magician's shows with the supreme judge, and i thought it would be good to change our endeavors this time.” he explained, hand still holding yours. 

“what's the name of the magician, monsieur neuvilette?” it was fruitless to ask for it, since you couldn't remember his name, but you were still curious. you knew about some magicians of the court, but never about one who caught lady furina's attention to the point of her going to show of theirs. maybe, just maybe… you knew he was going to be talented someday. 

neuvilette kissed your hand again. “i think the show is about to start, mademoiselle. shall we go?” he offered you his arm and took it without thinking, though maybe that was what your father wanted — having his daughter married to the chief of justice was a great honor, after all. however, it wasn't what you wanted. 

maybe you just needed a closure from your childhood — to say you were in love with someone you only saw thrice was madness, but he made you feel like a normal person for once in your life. he made you laugh and smile like no else did, and he was the only person that saw you without the mask. monsieur neuvilette, with all his rich and soft words, would only make you more miserable. 

you followed the chief of justice to the front row of the chairs, sitting next to him albeit uncomfortable. all the eyes were on you two, since he never expressed any interest in anyone until, apparently, now. the blonde traveler, who arrived at the court some days prior, was sitting at your side too, and you enjoyed hearing their traveling companion talking about everything and anything with neuvilette. it was good to hear mundane words coming from a different mouth but, as soon as when you started to feel more comfortable around them, the lights were turned off and you could see two silhouettes at the stage. 

“monsieurs and mademoiselles, welcome to lyney and lynette's magic show!” an enthusiastic voice spoke up and, when the lights above the stage were turned on again, you grabbed the end of your seat's armrests. 

the eyes. the eyes from your childhood were looking directly at you once again. 

“is everything alright, mademoiselle y/n?” you heard neuvilette asking and you could only nod, eyes never leaving the magician's figure. it was him — it was the boy who made you dream with flowers and sincere laughs, the boy who made everything else besides him feel so dull and boring. unconsciously, you smiled, and you watched as his smile, too, grew bigger, eyes never leaving your face. 

the show was mesmerizing and incredible. you always knew he would be talented when he grew up — the determination in his eyes to make you smile whenever he performed a magic trick for you back then was what brought him there, to the applause and screams of nobles and senators. lyney knew how to hold a crowd's attention, his charming smile and playful words, in combination with lynnette's calm and soft movements made them an unstoppable duo.

you held your breath when he made lynettte disappear inside the water, squealed when she came back in the middle of the chairs, giggled when he made birds and even a tea set appeared from his hat. you couldn't tear his eyes away from lyney, not even when neuvilette spoke to you — how could you not look at him, now that you've found him? 

“now, monsieurs and mademoiselles, the last trick of the night is going to happen, but not the least important.” lyney smiled at the crowd, a wooden box being positioned behind him. “and, for this trick, i will need the help of the audience. any volunteers?” the nobles started to scream, and you frowned, an ugly feeling spreading out inside your body. 

did lyney remember you? or you were just his first guinea pig? 

you took a deep breath, not trying to jump into conclusions. you needed to talk to him, and you would — if not today, then in another day. you knew who he was now, and that was the biggest step you ever took. 

but before you could revert your eyes to his form, gloved fingers held your chin and turned your head towards their owner, and you blinked in surprise at how close neuvilette's face was. however, before he could even open his lips to say something, another pair of gloved fingers were holding your hand, and you returned your face to where it was, meeting lyney's eyes once again. !would this beautiful lady accept to be my assistant in this trick?”

it was refreshing how he asked you, and not neuvilette, and how he didn't even mention the fact you were being his companion. “yes, of course, monsieur magician. it will be my pleasure.”

“splendid!” he exclaimed, fingers squeezing your hand. despite both of you wearing gloves, you could feel his warmth. “dear sister, if you may.” you were passed from lyney to lynette, who led you to a twin of the wooden box on the stage. 

“he finally found you.” she whispered in your ear, voice as quiet as the wind, that you almost didn't hear because of the screams of the crowd. you managed to capture the disappointed eyes of your father, like they were knives being targeted at you by an assassin. but, for the first time in your life, you didn't care. 

you tried to listen when lyney started to explain the trick, but lynette's words were still resonating in your head. they meant he was also looking for you, wasn't he? that was a good sign, you thought. you entered the box with the help of another assistant, lynette nowhere to be seen — she would probably play a part in the trick, after all. 

it was dark and a bit quiet inside the box, but you could feel someone, for some reason, moving it. you would never question a magician's way of doing his tricks, but you hoped nobody could see what was happening now. lyney deserved to win the favor of all these nobles, to have many sponsoring him and lynette. soon, the box stopped, and you could hear the audience counting to zero. that was it, then — the trick was about to end.

the crowd cheered, and it seemed like it worked. soon, the door of the box opened, but all you could see was lyney — the playful glint in his eyes and his happy smile. you accepted his hand and stepped out of the box, and the crowd cheered once more. you gave the magician a soft smile, remembering to use the mask in front of all these people. 

but you were sure they could see the redness on your cheeks when he kissed your hand. “you are, mademoiselle, the most beautiful assistant i had so far.”

and with that, the magic show was over. 

— 

you needed to find him. 

after the show ended, all the nobles wanted to talk with lyney and you were whisked away from the stage by neuvilette, who led you to another cycle of nobles — this time, not your father's friends, but younger senators who had similar ideologies to yours. it was refreshing to hear young people talking about what to do with the poor of the country, those who were suffering in the streets, then blaming them for the economic crisis fontaine was going through. 

however, you weren't in the mind to talk about politics, far from it. you needed to talk with lyney, but he wasn't nowhere to be seen now — until you saw a pair of violet eyes looking at you through the windows of the balcony, and you knew that was your cue. 

“monsieur neuvilette?”  you whispered for him in the middle of a conversation, and he leaned in to hear you better, while still paying attention to the senator talking to him. “i will go to the balcony to get some fresh air.” you didn't need his permission because he wasn't your husband — he wasn't your anything, actually — but social rules were still expected in a woman's behavior. 

“of course.” he kissed your knuckles once more, but what he said next made your stomach drop. “but be back soon, my dearest, your father has an important announcement to make.”

that could only mean your marriage to him. it would make sense why you were kept at his side throughout all night, why he was calling you by such an endearing term only reserved to those who had the blessing of the supreme judge. it made your heart burn and your vision to be blurry, but you were determined to reach the balcony — no one dared to interrupt you, maybe because the mask was off and no one saw you expressing that many emotions before. 

you opened the doors of the balcony quickly, hoping he was already there. but you found no one, and your heart burned even more — you were sure you saw his eyes asking you to meet him there! were you too blinded by his presence that you were seeing things now? 

“i am deeply sorry for making you wait, mademoiselle y/n.” you heard his voice and turned around to meet him, lyney's hands already finding yours and making the right one to rest on his chest. you could feel how quickly his heart was beating, almost in sync with yours.

you stayed in silence for a few moments, all the words you wanted to tell him now gone in his presence. “who i saw here, then, since it was not you?” it was what you managed to stay, though not what you wanted to. 

he chuckled, and you swore it was the most beautiful sound you ever heard in your life. “lynette. the nobles weren't leaving me alone, and i needed to speak with you.” he whispered, his breath fanning your face. “having a twin sister has its perks.” you nodded, lips parting to ask him all the questions you wanted, but he was quicker than you. “can i make a magic trick?”

you leaned your head to the side, unconsciously, a little bit confused, but nodded anyway. lyney took his hat from his head and took a flower out of it, handing it to you. before you could thank him for it, he took it again from your hands, hat already sitting comfortably at his head, and made it disappear. 

“lyney! that was such a beautiful rainbow rose!” you scolded him, but despite the tone of your voice, he was smiling fondly and with something more shining on his eyes. 

“we never lose something in magic, mon soleil.” you felt his hand on your ear, putting some strands of your hair behind it, his fingers staying there for some more moments than necessary — he had an electric touch, one that brought your heart back to life after so many years of being sleeping, just waiting for him like in the fairytales. “do not you feel something different?” he whispered, his face the closest it ever was. 

you were too lost looking at his eyes to notice anything before, but there was an additional weight on the same ear he touched. you lift your fingers and the flower petals met your skin, as soft as the silk sheets you slept every night. you gasped, though that was the same magic trick he did with you the first time you met — you were crying in the garden after some rude words from your father, and lyney took as his mission to make you smile and forget what it was said to you. both of you were still children, both faces with immature features and innocence shining in your eyes, but even if now you were older, you still felt like the same girl from back then. 

you still felt the same happiness she did at his presence. 

“how can i repay you?” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes, the waltz playing inside just a quiet sound that made the moment more intimate than it should be — but you weren't asking to repay for just now or the magic tricks he did, but for the moments of happiness and humanity he gave you. in those small moments of your childhood, lyney reminded you that you were first a human, and second a noble. it was hard to remember this with the position you had, but you always remembered his smile and the giggles he managed to coach out of you. 

he smiled at you, hands now cupping your face. “would my y/n be willing to give me a kiss?”

giggling, you lifted your head a bit more, meeting his lips while grabbing his shirt to bring him even closer.

you were no stranger to kissing, the stable boys having the honor of being your guinea pigs for this art, but kissing lyney was the first time you kissed someone with such raw emotion — the way your hands gripped him in desperation, too afraid of him going away without any explanation again, the way his hands held you as if you were his most treasured prize, the way your lips touching spoke more than any words could. 

lyney broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours, and you closed your eyes — to feel him. “i am deeply sorry for my disappearance,” he whispered. “there was not a day that you were not in my mind, y/n.” you could only nod, kissing his jaw. 

“it is alright,” you whispered back. “i know my father's deeds. what he did to you and lynette, lyney?” you weren't dumb and knew your father was a horrible man, especially to his staff. he would sell them to other nobles just for making a small mistake, and whenever one of your young ladies disappeared, you knew he sold them to be bed warmers of one of his friends. 

it was disgusting, but you couldn't do anything — your position as his daughter forbid you to do so. 

“he sold lynette.” he admitted, and you opened your eyes, this time holding his face between your hands. 

“you do not need to tell me what happened.” you comforted him, kisses on his face followed by your words. “what matters is that you and her are now here and thriving. i always knew you would be talented, lyney.” your words felt like an antidote to a poisoned man, and lyney could only smile. although he only started to do magic tricks for you to see if he was as good a magician as his master, your smiles and giggles became his reason to try better everyday — and after he left, seeing you again became his fuel to become the best magician the court ever saw. 

“and i always knew you would become the most beautiful lady of this court, mon soleil.” 

before your lips could meet again, the chief of justice's surprised voice rang in the air of the balcony. “mademoiselle y/n?” you and lyney turned around, your eyes widening at the sight of the man you were probably going to be engaged in a few moments. you could see disbelief and anger in his eyes, but hurt and sadness shined the brightest. you didn't know what to say, hiding behind lyney who stepped in front of you, maybe to shield you what was coming next — you never demonstrated any interest in the chief of justice, in anyone actually, then why was he looking so forlorn at seeing you in the arms of another man? 

you were saved from any explanations by a scream coming from the inside of the ballroom, which made the chief of justice turn his attention to what was happening inside his home. 

“were you engaged to him?" lyney asked, still in front of you and looking at the commotion inside. he hoped lynette managed to get away safely. 

you furrowed your brows. “no, of course not. i think my father wanted to make his bride.” you explained, brows still furrowed by what was happening. people were screaming and running, and you could hear some servants saying a maid found a dead body. 

“good.” lyney whispered, turning his face to you once more. “lynette killed your father.” he admitted, no shame on his features. although the news were supposed to shock you, were supposed to make you sad beyond human comprehension — after all, the boy you've loved for years just admitted his twin sister killed your father — you just nodded. 

that caught him by surprise, but lyney soon chuckled. “you have two options, mon soleil. stay and be the bride of the chief of justice, or go with me.” he offered you his hand, eyes shining with hope. “i can not guarantee you will have the same life you did, but i can promise that my heart will always be yours and, while i live, nothing is going to harm your beautiful face.” lyney poured his heart out to you, and sighed in relief when you squeezed his hand. 

“how i can let you go again, lyney? take me wherever you go.”

@softbajis here you go loser

[akookminsupporter]

I'm basic and like Woosan and Minsung lol. Like, I'm a sucker and click on the YouTube shorts / tiktoks about their chemistry or how they're whipped for each other.

That said, I think if anything, the presence of fan service is a pretty clear indicator that the relationship is platonic lol. Like, if two members were actually dating, flirting, etc. then they'd keep it hidden from the public and probably other idols/industry folks, too.

i saw this on my timeline from a stan of another group. but aren't they telling the truth ? will a real couple be that public with their gay relationship with their bandmate ? Its very unlikely 2 men who have a secret relationship behind the scenes will flaunt it for public to see in their homophobic country, especially knowing its harmful for them their group their company their families etc. Going on trips, filming and releasing it, saying you got bitten, allowing staff to film it, having numerous skinship moments on screen and on stage - especially when one is extra private and professional to the point he even hides his iphone airpods which he shares with his supposed bf because they have a contract with samsung and the one who is stalked every 2 days by his y/n saesangs who apparanlty doesnt know about his sexuality or relationship with bandmate, huh?. This all sums up to them being genuine platonic friends who are playing up for their fans and doesnt mind being called a couple. None of heavily shipped duos in other groups doesnt shy away from pda, even teasing fans in their live streams because at the end of the day they are close friends who have nothing hidden going on or to fear.

Its naive to think jikook are a real couple who should be protected in their homophobic country(or world in general) and from crazy fandom when its Jikook themselves who are exhibiting their friendship in homoromantic way for public to see. Make it make sense ?

I took the bait because I was upset and needed an outlet for my frustration. Consider yourself lucky, Anon—messages like yours usually get blocked without a second thought. Yay, you.

I didn’t bother reading every word you wrote, but I got the gist of it. So now I ask, what exactly were you hoping to accomplish? What kind of reaction were you expecting from me or the people who follow this blog? Did you think we’d suddenly have an epiphany and thank you for ‘enlightening’ us? Were you hoping we’d scramble to find that link to another group's fan who supposedly has all the answers? What was your endgame here?

Did you genuinely believe that after reading this, I’d shut down my blog because a fan from another group made a sweeping statement ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE, MIND YOU? That I’d suddenly discard my own opinions, years of observations, and everything I believe in—just because some random fan, who is undoubtedly biased in their own way, decided to declare their version of what, the truth according to you? Why should their perspective or opinion hold more weight than mine or that of any average Jikooker? Why do people like you invest so much energy into trying to convince us that Jikook isn’t real—or, in this case, that it can’t be real for X and Y reasons?

You’re not here for an honest discussion. You’re not offering new insights, nor do you seem remotely interested in hearing a different perspective. So, once again—what exactly was your purpose in sending this?

[darkandstormydolls]

So, a little while back I had a dream were I was watching a play. I only got to the first scene before waking up, but it was interesting and compelling so I decided to write it down as best I could remember. I’m debating adding more to it, coming up with my own plot and things, but I’m quite proud of scene one and so I figured I would share it. I think I’ll leave it here with no other story context since it would be intended to be the first scene and story introduction anyways

( @ominous-faechild this is the play that I suspected was at least a little bit inspired by your writing, so I’m sort of curious how my subconscious’s interpretation of fae is different)

(Unfortunately my italics didn’t translate, so generally assume that anything in parentheses is stage direction, as well as anything not following standard script dialogue structure)

Characters:

JOHN: a rather lonely young exile who’s beginning to question the choices he’s made in life

NIKOL: The crown prince, who thinks that no one in the world could hurt him- except perhaps himself

KESHAN: Nikol’s childhood best friend and self-appointed protector

TRICKSTER and THE ARCANE RIFTS: a pair of fae who contradict one another in every way, but are still stuck with each other.

Act 1, Scene 1

The room is large, too large for the scattering of old and careworn furniture that occupies it. Through a large, arched, glassless window, the ocean can be seen stirring far below. A cat sleeps on an armchair. JOHN sits at a desk, writing a letter. After continuing to write for a moment, he stands up, holding the paper and reads it aloud.

JOHN: My dear Viktoria,

I suppose there is little to report. Little that would be of interest to you, at least. But I still write. For many reasons, I suppose. I tell myself that I worry that my letters may not be getting through to you. Or perhaps even that you find my anecdotes of this quaint life charming. But in truth, I write to you because I am lonely, and I hope that perhaps you may take pity on this poor soul. Back when we were children, to say “the princess is writing” was like saying “Wren is in the kitchen with his mother”; almost always true. So perhaps you could send some of those letters that are always on your desk my way? Perhaps you are writing, and mail just doesn’t reach this far into the windswept wilds, and you’re wondering why on earth I won’t reply.

But really, I fear it’s that you don’t want to think of me, and that’s why I haven’t gotten any letters in the past two years. Perhaps you feel that it’s not worth keeping up correspondence with a traitor. Perhaps- more likely than perhaps, even- that promise we made, back when we were thirteen, when rings were placed on fingers and bread was shared between tables, has since been broken, and it’s just that no one has bothered to inform me of that fact. After all, why would they? I’m of no consequence.

We managed to fix the roof this past week. The slates had slid out of place, as they always do on these old roofs, and it had been dripping water since we first arrived. But we finally got around to climbing back up there, Father and I, and we’ve managed to replace most of them. It’ll be a welcome change, come winter, to no longer be woken up in the middle of the storm by rain inside of my bedroom.

Calpurnia, of course, is doing wonderfully. She rules like a queen of the castle, and we all bow to her bidding. And her kittens are quite grown, by now. We offered Maximilian to a couple we know down in the village, but Hadrian and Livia are still here, and doing quite well. You should see sweet Livia now that she’s all grown up- I would swear she’s prettier than her mother if Calpurnia, little tyrant that she is, were not purring next to me as I write this.

We’re getting along quite well out here, generally. Of course, there’s the cold and the storms, but those are to be expected. It’s quiet, perhaps too quiet, but I think I am happy nevertheless.

As always, your faithful servant,

John.

JOHN: pretty good, I’d say. Callie, what are your thoughts? (He reaches over to pet the cat, who does not acknowledge his presence. He sighs and folds the letter into thirds.) Let’s hope that this one gets to her.

A knock sounds on the door

JOHN (hesitantly): Yes?

The door swings open and NIKOL and KESHAN enter

JOHN (shocked): Nikol, I- (pauses, uncertain, then bows) Your highness. What brings you here?

NIKOL: John, John my love, enough of all that. (Moves forward to sweep up JOHN in an embrace, which JOHN hesitantly accepts) You’re my friend, my brother in all but name. There’s no need to treat me like a stranger!

KESHAN, still near the door, rolls his eyes.

KESHAN: Cut him some slack. He hasn’t seen you in years. I doubt he knows where he stands with you, especially after… what happened

JOHN gives KESHAN an appreciative look. NIKOL does not seem to notice and keeps talking

NIKOL: I’m so sorry- I wrote, didn’t I? You got my letters? I tried. I mean, I’m not the scrivener my sister is, but you didn’t really think I’d abandoned you, did I? I swear, I’m not my father, and I don’t share his hatred for objections. I wouldn’t hate you, whatever happened, and especially not for that!

JOHN: I did. Some, at least. You can never really trust the mail out here. And I appreciated them.

NIKOL: oh, I’m glad. I worried, when there were never any responses. I took to asking Wren to send them for me. I thought that someone was making sure they never made it out of the castle, if they thought I was writing to you

JOHN: But I did write back

NIKOL: Well, I suppose my fears weren’t unfounded (With forced optimism) But perhaps you’re right and it’s simply the location. It’s far, letters get lost. Oh, but it is good to see you again! (Steps back to look JOHN over). You’ve changed, since we last saw each other. Then again, I suppose we’re not children anymore. Maybe we’ve all changed.

JOHN: I doubt anyone else has as much as me. You grew up alongside the heir to a dutchy. You’ve come here to find-

NIKOL: a duke

JOHN: I would have said more of an inexpert carpenter with an overly eccentric father and a house on a cliff that can’t seem to be fixed for love or money. (Shakes his head, as if clearing a thought away). But how are the others? Wren? Sorrel? Slight pause. Your sister?

NIKOL: Wren’s doing well. Taking the path we all expected, to no one’s surprise. Not that we object. You’ll need to try his newest cherry pie. Sorrel… well, she’s taken a few strange turns in her interests, as I think I’ve updated you on. Currently, I believe it’s a great deal of combing through ancient books and references to strange creatures. As for Viktora… well, she’s Viktora. You know how she is.

JOHN: Nowadays, I’m not sure if I do. She hasn’t written in years.

NIKOL: Well, she’s always been… (gestures vaguely and unclearly. JOHN takes this as a hint to end the conversation)

JOHN: So, what brings you two out here?

KESHAN: Diplomacy.

JOHN: With who? (Jokingly) The seagulls?

NIKOL: With you

JOHN: What?

NIKOL: We’ve come to take you back

JOHN: Why?

KESHAN: Well, it looks to be for the wedding

JOHN: Who’s wedding?

NIKOL: Yours.

JOHN: Wait, but- I thought it was never going to happen! When I left, I assumed the engagement was over! After all, my family was ruined. There’s no point to it

NIKOL: Your family is two people. One of them was ruined, yes, but not you. You’ve taken on the title and the lands-

JOHN: lands I haven’t set foot on since I was a child and a title I’ve never used!

NIKOL: -and they are still lands and a title that the crown would much rather be added to their holdings rather than split up piecemeal and claimed by distant cousins

JOHN: I’m a traitor. An exile.

NIKOL: No. Your father is. You chose to go. (Softer, slightly sad) You chose to leave us

JOHN: Good god, Nikol, I was fourteen and had no idea what was going to happen to me. You can’t blame me for staying with all the family I had left

NIKOL: So you came here. To a falling down, haunted house at the end of the world.

JOHN: (laughs bitterly) The end of the world, eh? Funny, that’s what I’ve always called it. My father calls it Storm Watch when he’s in a good mood, “this cursed place” when he isn’t. The village calls it the Ghost’s Lighthouse, and the sailors do the same. But for me, that’s what it’s always been. A little island on the edge of the maps. A place where nothing matters. The end of the world. All that’s left to do is fall off the edge if you go any further. But I can’t go back. I’ve found some kind of peace out here, just us and the cliffs against storm and sea. It’s quiet. Different. And sure, half the walls are crumbling and the roof resists all attempts to fix it, but it’s home.

KESHAN: (casually rests a hand on his sword. JOHN hadn’t really noticed that he was wearing it, and is slightly startled) I don’t think you have much of a choice

JOHN: (Quiet, slightly angry) Keshan. Are you threatening me?

KESHAN: Not as such.

NIKOL: (rests a hand on KESHAN’s shoulder) (To KESHAN) Easy. You can’t blame him for being hesitant. (To JOHN) I’m sorry.

JOHN: I mean, he’s right. If it’s an order, I don’t have a choice. I am still your father’s subject, after all. And if you speak for him, I still have to obey. I’d rather not the entire family be damned as traitors.

NIKOL: I’d rather it not be an order. And I understand. You care for this place. You care for your father.

JOHN: But I still have to go

NIKOL: The engagement is still in place

JOHN: I see. I suppose I should go speak to my father, then

NIKOL: I am sorry. I don’t want to have to take you from your home

JOHN: But you are

NIKOL: But alas, I am. Because I am nothing but a vessel of someone else’s will

JOHN: Then if you two don’t mind, I’ll ask you to wait.

NIKOL: Of course.

JOHN turns and leaves the room in a different direction. NIKOL and KESHAN glance at one another before leaving the room through the door they came in through. All is silent for a moment, before TRICKSTER and THE ARCANE RIFTS appear. They are dressed in a manner utterly unlike anything logical or normal, and their very presence seems to change the energy of the room

RIFTS: So. He’s leaving.

TRICKSTER: Fun.

RIFTS: Certainly not. He’s safe here. Everyone else is safe when he’s here.

TRICKSTER: and that’s no fun!

RIFTS: I hate you

TRICKSTER: I hate you, too

RIFTS: why are you always here?

TRICKSTER: I’m your divine punishment

RIFTS: for what?

TRICKSTER: Being annoying. Our souls are bound, darling. We’re two sides of the same coin. I exist to annoy you. So you can’t complain.

RIFTS: yes I can.

Both go silent for a moment

TRICKSTER: So it begins

RIFTS: So it does

END SCENE

[broken-freedom]

Nina can you write a blurb or one shot of Eren going to the strip club one day and discovers that Y/N is a stripper plus she doesn’t want anyone to know her secret that’s why she doesn’t tell anyone. One day he catches her and in order for Eren to keep her huge secret she has to give him more than a lap dance in the back room if you know what I’m saying 😏

• Your Little Secret •

Word Count: 1.9K

CW: lap dance, humiliation (?), face riding. 

A/N: It took me forever I know, but hey! It is now done at least! Enjoy ;) 

Your worst nightmare became reality the moment your eyes locked with his in the middle of your performance. You managed to keep your “job” a secret from every single person you know for 4 long years only to be discovered by the one person you hate the most.

 It started as a little extra support, because let’s be honest, who can afford to pay all this money every semester for 4-5 years atop of all other life expenses? You left home as soon as you graduated from high school and even with the extra shifts you were picking up here and there, the bills were left unpaid. When one day you were working as a waitress, serving dinner and cleaning tables, an older man slipped a note in your hand as he paid you a farewell, one you thought was a generous tip to conclude the good service you provided, or at least .. you hoped. You shoved the note in your back pocket and resumed working. 

After your shift ended, you opened the note to only find a number and a few words scribbled messily underneath “I can provide you more, somewhere else.” The note creeped you for days, but one afternoon you were desperate, unpaid bills everywhere, unsubmitted assignments alerts filling your school’s email. How are you supposed to find time to study when you are practically overworking yourself to be able to pay for rent, classes, gas and food?!

You ran to the note and with shaky hands opened it and dialed the number. 

“H- hello …?”  you start nervously. 

“I was waiting for your call” you hear the man on the other side of the line talking with such confidence.

Turns out to be a stripping job that the owner of the club saw you and thought you would be able to earn a little extra doing that instead of serving food and relying heavily on tips. Without a second thought you accepted, the number he offered you would solve 99% of your problems and you only needed to work 3 days per week. In the other 4 you can actually focus on your education and get your degree to find a better job for yourself that can fully support you. 

You managed to keep your little job a secret from your friends and classmates. Yes it is a small town, but who would go to a strip club on a Tuesday evening while needing to be in class first thing in the morning the next day? And it worked, for four years, you buried the truth intending to never admit it out loud, not even to yourself, until today….

The day where your secret comes out and everyone will know about it because of him. 

You were in the middle of your seductive movement taking off the little excuse of a bra as a part of your dance when you locked eyes with him. You feel your whole world crashing at once. The air around you is thick and making it hard to breathe. The room you’re in suddenly turns 100 degrees and rising. You meet his amused gaze with a  mortified one, feeling sick to your stomach. Your body is moving as you do every time performing your seductive dance as if you were on autopilot but your brain is flashing alarms at you to run away from his burning stare. The way his eyes are twinkling looking at you makes you sick, and you would love to smack that shit-eating grin out of his face, but you sadly have to carry the dance.

“Eren Fucking Jaeger..  Why is he here? We have a test tomorrow! Shouldn’t he be studying?” 

The more you wonder, the wider his grin gets, making you clench your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming from the top of the stage. 

Your thoughts are running 100 miles per hour but also trying to keep your cool as much as possible replacing the mixed facial expressions of disgust and anger with a much calmer and relaxed one. The show has to carry on no matter what. 

 Your body swaying left and right to the beat of the slow tone music as your own hands cupping and grabbing at your skin starting from your thighs to your hips, to finally settle on your tits. You try to keep your mind off him and focus on your work, you’ll have to deal with him later. But he makes it so hard for you with him whistling and cheering at your every movement, feeling his flame-filled gaze on your bare back even when you can’t see him. 

The moment the music dies to a stop you rush off stage and run in your heels to shield yourself from his prying eyes, you strip in front of thousands of people without care, but not him, not Eren. He will make sure to turn your life into a living hell now he knows your secret. You’ll have to run away, change your name, and find a new life elsewhere. But it doesn't always end up as you want as Eren catches up to you and holds your wrist preventing you from going further into the dressing room. 

“What do you want Eren?!” you try to yank your hand out of his grasp but no success since he is way stronger than you. “Oh why so shy now darling, you were ready to drop your panties for me not a minute ago?” He holds your gaze daringly. “I also paid for a lap dance, would never miss the chance of having Ms. perfect dancing half naked in my lap” 

“Not in your wildest dreams! Let me go right now!” You try to push him away with your other hand, but he is faster, holding both of your hands now and pulling you closer to his chest, hovering over your face and smirking devilishly “You were the last person to come to mind when I asked for the best.. You? The best? Got to try to believe it .. or do you want your secret to make it past the walls of this building?” He twists you around and pushes you to walk in front of him to the same hallway you were going to earlier, not to your dressing room, but to the private room right next to it. 

You want to keep your job, it still pays the bills, but also needs to find a way to keep Eren from exposing you to everyone you know, you walk with him as you think, and think, and think, you need to have the upper hand in this situation, but knowing how evil Eren is, you will need to calculate your next step carefully.

You get inside the private room and push Eren to sit on the sofa, his hungry eyes exploring every inch of your body as you make your way to the pole in the center of the room. “Someone changed her mind” Eren chuckles thinking to himself how easily you got manipulated to do exactly what he wants. You wouldn’t want anyone to find out about this after all, and from who? So you’ll have to do what he tells you to do. 

You grab the pole, bending your body ever so slowly, giving Eren a full view of your puffed pussy strangled by the thong. A loud whistle coming from behind you reminding you of who is actually sitting there watching your every movement. You close your eyes shut trying to steady your breathing and carry on your plan. Slowly but seductively you make your way towards Eren pushing his knee apart so you can stand in between and reaching for his necktie to untie it “Hands behind your back Jaeger, club’s policy” He does what you tell him to do, hypnotized by how good you smell and you tie his hands behind his back. You bend over as you sway your hips pushing your tits closer to his face. The way he gulps the closer you get to him tells you that what you are doing is correct and gives you the energy you need to continue. You pull the string of your bra down exposing your boobs as you straddle Eren’s lap. Watching the teasing gaze drop from his face gives you satisfaction when you start grinding on him wanting to torture him. The more you grind the louder he growls “ Fuck …”  wanting more, and now you can feel him more. Erected, desperate, and wanting more, and you give him more by pushing your weight down on his cock but stand back on your feet quickly “wha- … why?” his confused tone makes you giggle. 

With one swift motion, you place one leg on Eren’s shoulder, reaching your hand to teasingly rub your clothed clit before you pull the string to the side exposing your wet pussy to Eren’s widening eyes. “You did not pay for this but I am feeling like giving you a special treatment today” 

The closer you get to Eren’s face the more he understands what you want to do “why are you doing this?” “Because I can, isn’t that obvious?” “But you- …” you cut him off when your pussy makes contact with his lips, tongue darting out immediately to taste the sweetness of your essence dropping into his mouth. He moans, loud, and you enjoy the scene of his eyes rolling back. Grinding his clothed cock was fun, he made cute noises, but riding his face is even more thrilling. His whole diameter changed and it is pleasing to watch. You pinch your nipples in between your fingers speeding the process, Eren thrusting his tongue inside your pussy with his nose pressed against your clit is more than enough to send you to cloud nine, drenching Eren’s face with cream liquid and a few drops falling into his shirt staining it white. Your legs shake and you try to steady yourself by putting your leg back on the floor, Eren is quiet, he is more surprised than you are by how your actions silenced him, but his eyes are screaming at you. You look at his flushed, wet face with amusement, his hands still tied behind him. One final step before you conclude your plan.

You drop to your knees in front of Eren, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to take his raging cock out, fully hard and leaking in your palm “what a pretty cock, Jaeger” you smirk giving Eren’s cock a few pumps making him growl in response. You keep your eyes locked with his as you bend lowering your head, but before your lips reach his tip, you tear your eyes away from Eren’s looking at his length in your hand “what a shame for a cock this nice to be attached to an asshole like you” and you spit on it before you stand up and start backing up to go to your room to change “keep your mouth shut Jaeger, or I know a way to keep it useful other than talking shit about others” 

Even though he never actually planned on telling a living soul about your little secret. He’ll still come to spite you every once in a while, and to get you to sit on his face again… 

xXx