#in the middle of nowhere in Arizona

[embraceweird]

thinking about Neil Josten from your average exy fan's perspective is so wild

first Palmetto is so secretive about their new striker. everyone is throwing out crazy theories and there is a bunch of hype. but it's just some true freshman from middle of nowhere Arizona ??? what is Kevin Day thinking? maybe Day is having a mental breakdown after the incident last December

Neil plays his first game and he's fine. he's no king of exy but he held his own. probably will be an average striker

but then you see him on the Kathy Ferdinand show and he absolutely lays into Riko! THE Riko Moriyama, the #1 to Kevin's #2. opinions are probably divided some outraged some kid dare call out the king others are very amused by Neil's outburst. regardless you will be keeping your eye on Neil Josten

as the fall season goes on Neil gets good, really good. he may be the best freshman anyone has ever seen but he's also kept himself from mouthing off publicly so the Neil Josten rumor mill dies down a bit

BUT THEN SPRING COMES AND OMG IS THAT A 4 TAT ON HIS CHEEK???

Neil Josten has been marked perfect court!!! will he and Kevin transfer to Edgar Allan?? what was that fight with Riko about oh so long ago? also didn't his eyes used to be brown?

then Neil goes and mouths off AGAIN! calling out Riko AGAIN! the exy community is thrown into chaos

the spring season continues and apparently Neil Josten is in fact Nathaniel Wesninski?!!!!?! now the FBI is all over him, Neil's face and name are on every major news network because notorious crime boss, the butcher of Baltimore, is dead!

Neil's face looks like shit, he's out on injury again and his past is absolutely insane, even for Fox standards. but we have exy to play

foxes somehow made it to face the ravens in the finals. and Neil plays as a backliner!! Neil faces against Riko, the rivalry is tense!

the clock runs out, the foxes are up, Palmetto has usurped Edgar Allan! Neil is doubled over at Riko's feet and then Riko goes for the head! fortunately, Minyard steps in but Riko may never play again

this is the wildest season of exy probably ever and the little nobody from Arizona is in the middle of so much of it. regardless of how you feel about him every exy fan knows the name Neil Josten

[stargazedwinchester]

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `camaro, dean winchester

Summary: You run into the brothers at a gas station in your Chevy Camaro. Word Count: 797 Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

“Thank you for your time.” Sam nods politely at the couple before exiting the store. The brothers visited a gas station connected to the murder of a woman who had purchased items there shortly before she died. Their original plan was to visit the husband of said lady, to see what’s really going on. Dean pulls the gas pump out of the holder and plunges the dispenser into the impala. His eyes meet Sams, who purses his lips at him. “Nothin’,” he says, taking a gander of the whole place.

The gas station itself is situated practically in the middle of nowhere; desert and tumbleweeds reside close by. They’re smack in the middle of Arizona, the southwestern heat quite literally radiates off of the tarmac. Dean sighs, checking the price on the tank. Another vehicle’s parked beside the other pump. Dean’s eyebrows furrow, examining the car. “Damn,” he huffs, a frown forming on his face as he notices the Chevrolet badge on the side of the vehicle. “Whoever’s driving that thing has good taste.” He chuckles at Sam, then the door to the store opens up, the doorbell chiming as it’s pushed open.

And there you are, suited up in a black blazer paired with a tight, black above the knee skirt and a white blouse. You’re wearing your favourite jewellery and your hair tied neatly in a claw clip. You’re looking down at your phone, clipboard gripped under your other arm. Your phone rings, and you don’t hesitate to answer. “He won’t tell me anything. I tried everything, but the guy won’t budge.” You admit, sandwiching your phone between your shoulder and your ear, fiddling in your purse for your car key. Your car unlocks, and you toss the clipboard to the passenger side before shutting the door again. You lean against your car, the sun blaring down at you. “No, I know, I just can’t figure it out…” You sigh in defeat. Dean whips his head around to Sam, a hopeful, gleaming look in his eyes. Sam rolls his eyes before entering the Impala. He hangs up the dispenser before making his way around to you.

You hang up the phone, placing it into your pocket. “Hey.” Dean says, grinning at you. “Hey yourself.” You scoff, reaching for your car key once more. “Sorry, uh…” He hesitates, “Y/N.” You pause, glancing at him. “I’m Dean, uh, I just couldn’t help but notice your car here…” He slows, before examining it again. “What make is it?” He asks, a genuine tone in his voice. “It’s a Camaro,” you state, catching Dean’s eye. He’s not looking at the far, he’s looking at you. You hesitate. “1963. It was my dads.” You try to force the smile away that’s creeping up on your face, the fond memories you shared between you and your late father during your childhood.

“Same as me,” Dean recalls, placing his hands in his pockets. “I mean, this was my dads, too. A stubborn son of a bitch.” He chuckles nervously, making eye contact with Sam who’s still sat in the passenger, ushering him to hurry up. “So anyway,” he pauses, “it’s probably a long shot, but-“

“You wanna take me to dinner?”

“Oh! I mean, I was gonna ask for your number, but…” Dean fumbles around in his pockets, attempting to find his phone, or even a pen and paper. “You can take that too.” Your eyes dangle over his large frame, taking in every inch of him. He’s got broad shoulders, the 2 piece suit making him look even more so. From the moment he walked up to you, his hair was gelled perfectly, but since standing out in the sun, his hair has gone soft. He runs his hand through his hair. You’ll admit, he’s pretty hot.

For some reason, your presence really intimidates Dean. It doesn’t seem like it’s his first rodeo with women, but something about him really makes you want to know more. You whip your phone out of your pocket. “What did you say your name was?”

“D-Dean.” He stutters, smiling at you sheepishly. You tap his name into your phone, then passing it over to him to input his number.

“Right. Well, Dean,” you unlock your car again, opening the drivers door. Dean steps back, allowing you to enter your car. He leans into the window, his face very close to yours. “Call me.”

You turn the engine over, the Camaro purring beneath you. It vibrates, making Dean gloat at how well kept it is. You take the car out of park, and slowly move off. “Y-yeah, I will.” Dean watches you drive off onto the long dirt road, unsure whether he’s admiring you or your car. He turns around, catching Sam’s eye. “Dammit, she’s hot!”

[shybluebirdninja]

Fury Roadtrip

Summary: Logan insists on being your road trip navigator, but his terrible sense of direction gets you both lost in the middle of nowhere with a very angry llama.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Gf!Reader

Note                : fluff

It all started with Logan’s damn confidence. He had that “I'm-always-right-even-when-I'm-wrong” swagger, and it was extra obnoxious when he was in the passenger seat.

“Babe, I’m tellin’ ya, you missed the turn back there.”

You glance at him, eyebrow raised. “Logan, we’re following the GPS. I’m literally doing exactly what it says.”

He crosses his arms, grunting. “GPS is full of shit. I know the backroads better than this piece of tech.”

You almost laugh but bite your lip. Logan, your Logan, who spent most of his life in the Canadian wilderness, was trying to tell you he had the lay of the land down in the middle of nowhere Arizona. Sure, the man had sharp instincts when it came to sniffing out danger, but his sense of direction? Absolute garbage.

“Okay, darling,” you say, dripping with sarcasm, “why don’t you tell me where we’re supposed to go, huh? Since you know these backroads so well.”

He cracks his knuckles, like he’s preparing for battle. “Take the next left.”

You squint at the road ahead, seeing nothing but desert stretching for miles. “Left where, exactly? The cactus? Or are we about to drive through some tumbleweeds?”

Logan doesn’t hesitate, just taps the window with a claw. “Left. Right here.”

You sigh but humor him. It’s Logan. You love the guy, claws and all. If he wants to play navigator, you’ll let him play. So, you make the turn. The moment the car veers off the asphalt, the tires hit sand. Great, now you're on some sketchy dirt road that isn't even on the GPS.

“This feels wrong,” you mutter, gripping the wheel tighter. “Really, really wrong.”

Logan chuckles like he knows better. “Trust me, babe. I’ve been around longer than this damn map.”

Right. You loved Logan, but sometimes you really wanted to strangle him. Five minutes go by, then ten. The road—if you could even call it that—narrows down to nothing but rocks and dust, and the car’s bouncing like it's about to break apart.

“Logan,” you hiss, glancing at him, “are you sure this isn’t, I don’t know, a wolverine death trap?”

He shrugs, looking out the window like this is all normal. “Relax, honey. Just a bit of off-roading.”

Then you hear it.

“Mrrrahhh!”

“What the hell was that?” you ask, wide-eyed.

Logan turns his head slowly, and through the window, standing on a rocky ridge, is a llama. A very angry llama. You don’t know why or how you know it’s pissed off, but you can tell from the way it’s glaring at your car like it’s about to throw hooves.

“Mrrrahhh!” It screeches again, taking a threatening step down the ridge.

“Logan,” you say, voice tight, “why is there a llama staring at us like it wants to fight?”

Logan, unfazed as ever, leans back in his seat. “Llama’s just mindin’ its business.”

“Mindin’ its business? It looks like it’s about to spit in my face!”

Before you can react, the llama starts to move—no, it starts charging down the slope, heading straight for the car. You slam your hand on the horn, but it only makes the llama angrier. It’s now full-on sprinting at you, and suddenly this road trip has turned into a showdown you didn’t sign up for.

“Logan!” you shout, eyes wide, panic setting in. “Do something! You’re the one who got us lost here with this demon llama!”

But Logan’s just staring at the thing with his usual nonchalance, like this happens to him every day. “It’s just a llama, babe. You’re actin’ like it’s a freakin’ Sabretooth.”

“Well, maybe it is a Sabretooth in disguise because it’s coming at us like it’s about to murder us!”

Logan grumbles, opening the car door and stepping out. “Fine, I’ll handle it.”

You watch, dumbfounded, as Logan walks toward the llama like it’s nothing. He stands there, arms crossed, waiting for the thing to get close. For a moment, you think he’s going to have some sort of epic standoff with this angry furball. You almost expect some Old Western music to play in the background.

“Mrrrahhh!” The llama slows down, huffing and puffing, clearly rethinking its life choices as it gets closer to Logan.

“See?” Logan says, turning back to you with a smirk. “Told ya. They back down once you show ‘em who’s boss.”

But just as those words leave his mouth, the llama spits. A giant, green glob of llama spit flies through the air, nailing Logan square in the face.

You lose it. You’re doubled over in the driver’s seat, laughing so hard you’re crying. “Oh my God, Logan! It just—” You can’t even finish your sentence, you’re laughing too hard. “It spit on you!”

Logan wipes his face, his eyes narrowing as he glares at the llama. “You son of a—”

“Told you!” you choke out between gasps, barely able to breathe. “I told you this was a bad idea!”

Logan stomps back to the car, furious, muttering curses under his breath. He slams the door and glares out the window, completely ignoring the fact that you’re still dying from laughter.

“Not. A. Word,” he growls, crossing his arms.

You manage to catch your breath and wipe your eyes, but the giggles still bubble up. “Oh, come on, babe. Admit it. Your sense of direction sucks.”

Logan just grunts. You, meanwhile, start the car, turning back onto the dirt road as you try to find a way out of the middle of nowhere.

“Next time,” you say, smirking, “I’m in charge of navigation.”

[wandering-jana]

Middle of nowhere.

Southern Arizona, 2019.

[preseriesdean]

preseries dean-centric/pov fic recs

for @spnficrecfest day one: specific era 🧡

Odysseus, American by coyotesuspect sam/dean, 10.1k words, rated M, published 2010 Dean finds Peter O'Toole's recording of the Odyssey in a bin marked “Audio" in Casa Grande's only used bookstore. The place smells like cigarette smoke and old books, and it reminds him of Sam.

Multitude of Sins by Linden sam/dean, 4.4k words, rated T, outsider POV, published 2015 Every now and again, Jim Murphy would look up from his altar and find the Winchester boys at the back of his church.

We Drank a Thousand Times by glorious_spoon dean/omc, 43.2k words, rated M, published 2010 They meet in a bar fight in North Carolina when Dean is nineteen, broke, and desperate, then again when a hunt brings the Winchesters into town a few years later. Neither one of them ever puts a name to it but every once in a while, through the years, Dean finds his way back.

pack up the moon by deathdreamt sam&dean, 5.9k words, rated T, published 2021 Sam storms back out from their room, his backpack on and his duffel hanging off his shoulder and isn’t it kind of tragic that his whole life fits in two bags. He looks suddenly much younger than he is, eyes shining. John is back at his guns, whiskey at his elbow, and Dean can hardly believe how rapidly his life is cracking down the centre.

lost in yesterday by margaryes aka @christsam sam/dean, 1k words, not rated, john POV, published 2023 John hasn’t seen his youngest son in 18 months.

Inseparable by astolat sam/dean, 6.7k words, rated M, published 2008 It was just plain sense, so Dean didn't understand why something about the way Dad said quietly, "It's time you had your own bed," made him feel guilty and confused.

The Palm Oasis by @fictionallemons sam/dean, 12.3k words, rated E, published 2022, sex work John strands Dean and Sam at a middle-of-nowhere motel while he investigates possible demon omens in Arizona. The place is nothing to write home about, but at least it has a pool. Dean resolves to think of this as a vacation for him and his studious little brother, but when their money runs out sooner than expected, he considers turning tricks at a nearby truck stop so he can feed Sam. Then a creepy guy from the pool makes an offer Dean doesn’t want to take but Sam won’t allow him to refuse—and the brothers edge over a line they’ve both been wanting to cross for a long time.

Summer Blackout by nutkin sam/dean, 11.6k words, rated E, published 2012 When Dean is seventeen, they spend five months being normal.

Poughkeepsie by aeli_kindera sam&dean, 9.7k words, rated T, published 2021 “Sammy,” says Dean again, urgency cracking his voice. “We gotta — we really gotta go. I need you to — just — remember Poughkeepsie? Drop everything, no questions asked, and run? This is a — a Poughkeepsie situation. Please, man, I need you.” Sam remembers Poughkeepsie.

To Repair Broken Men by procrastin8or951 sam/dean, 3.1k words, rated T, published 2015 Dad and Sam keep fighting. Dean can't fix his family, so he fixes things around the crappy apartment they are staying in.

[artdcnaldson]

piss kink artrick is back fuck yes.

anyways artrick road trip. patrick’s driving and he keeps chugging soda and water and as the hours go on patrick starts unconciously squirming. art notices and it makes him… curious. eventually after giving patrick google-eyes for a few hours art starts squirming too, for a different reason, but less noticabley than patrick. patrick abruptly pulls over and before art can even ask him what’s going on patrick is staggering out of the driver’s seat and unbuckling his belt. art slowly gets out and sees patrick pissing behind the car, dick in hand, letting out small little breaths and tiny moans.

art’s immediately hard. he slides up next to patrick and is just… staring. patrick is still going, still making those little noises that are driving art crazy. patrick looks over and realizes art’s hard. he teases him about it but it has no weight behind it because he’s still pissing and kind of shaking.

you take it from here oomf

GOD. Bc Patrick is so stubborn, he'd absolutely insist he did NOT need to pull over to go to the bathroom until the absolute last moment where he's desperate and about to piss himself. That's how he winds up pulled over in the middle of nowhere in Arizona, slamming his door and scrambling over to the side of the car to finally release all the pressure in his bladder. He's standing so close to Art's window at the passengers side that Art can hear the way he's moaning when he finally lets go. It's obscene and perverse, and it's never failed to make Art get rock hard ever since he started noticing it.

Art gets out too, but it's not like he could even piss if he needed to. He just kind of stands there, swallowing, palming at the front of his jeans as subtly as he can manage (which isn't very). Patrick looks over and grins when he notices. "Fucking creep," he teases, like he's not letting out porn-y moans as he pisses into the dusty soil below. "What? You wanna hold it for me?"

Art's beet red as he stares at Patrick, who finally stops his stream and tucks his dick back into his pants. He smiles wickedly and claps Art on the back. "If you're gonna jerk off about it, do it in the car so we don't get reported for public indecency."

Art grumbles, but he's not exactly subtle about the way he grinds the heel of his palm against his cock while Patrick drives.

[helpmeplease33]

Alright. Hi. I know this is kind of a weird thing to see on here. I've been trying to find some help for the past few minutes now. I know this isn't gonna sound believable to some people online—or like it's some made-up story, but I really do need help. I didn't really have a choice but to reach out like this.

Ya see, I work for the government right now. I used to work for the police in my old home town—which was Sedonah, Arizona. I know most of you know that everyone had to evacuate from it years ago 'cuz of the whole radiation thing. I was one of the few who actually got out, while most of everyone else stayed in this shelter that they made cuz it was 'too dangerous' for them to even try to leave.

Now, I can't tell ya why. This town is already a huge danger zone with what happened. But—I had to go back. I was sent on a mission that I can't tell y'all about. Y'know.. top secret stuff. I had a radiation suit on, so I think I'm okay. I ended up finding this.. weird building in the middle of nowhere though. I thought it might have been the shelter, so I went up and knocked. I didn't hear anyone inside. I tried knocking again, but.. no matter how much I did, no one answered. So I tried to open the door myself. Next thing I know, everything goes black, and suddenly—I'm here.

This is the door to the place, I guess. I think this might be the building, since it looks so much like it did on the outside and all. It's.. really dusty in here though. I don't think the shelters been here that long. It's only been 5 years since the explosion. There's.. a lot of other stuff here too, actually. Weird posters on the walls. There's.. ink everywhere. There's some weird area up ahead. I thought I heard creaking, so I went in, but I just found these weird reels below some kinda sign. I might take a picture of some of the other stuff here, just to.. well, show I'm not lying. I tried calling out to see if anyone was here, but I didn't hear anyone call back. I.. even tried opening the door behind me. But, it.. I.. I dunno. Maybe I should explain in another.. post-thing.

Here's.. another photo I took. It's—me. I figured I'd post one so people from the outside might recognize me, or so someone from my job might see this and come help me out. I dunno. Point is—when I tried calling people, it kept.. just.. going black and closing out of the app. I tried goin' onto other apps or sites. But, this is.. kinda the only one that works.

I dunno how much people on the internet can help. I don't really use it that much. But—all I know is that this is the only way I have. So—if you.. have anything to say, or something that might help, then say somethin'. Anything. Please.

If you read the post long enough, then thanks for reading. If someone that knows me sees this—then.. please, say something. I just.. really need help right now.

[not-ur-boy-toy]

Hartbreak Ranch Chapter 1

AN: FINALLY Chapter 1 of Hartbreak Ranch, I really hope you enjoy it! (btw I'm bad at explaining plots so apologies :,) )

Plot: Shawn is a famous model on his way to a new photoshoot. However, he finds himself getting stuck in the middle of nowhere. Luck just has it though as he finds himself staying with the Hart family, finding himself being drawn to a certain Bret Hart.

TW: Foul language, Alcohol mentioned

Word count: 3.6K

Next >>>

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

Blond hair flowed freely through the wind as the bright, cherry-red Ferrari 308 drove down the desolate Arizona road. Music blared from the car as it raced through the empty route. The driver of it didn’t have a care in the world as he held a phone to his ear, his free hand on the steering wheel.

“Diesel! Trust me here, I’m doin’ fine, I know where I’m going!”, a laugh rang through the car, as the man spoke, his grin large as he kept his eyes on the road. 

“I know you know where you’re going, Shawn... But you’re in the middle of nowhere” the other voice rang through the phone before continuing, “You’ve already said you’re taking a ’shortcut’ but I just don’t think It’s a good idea!” the voice argued back, trying to reason with the stubborn man.

Shawn rolled his eyes before a soft huff left his lips, he was used to his bodyguard being overprotective, they always traveled together! Wherever Shawn went, a 6’10, hunk-of-a-man followed him. But not this time. The young 30-year-old man wanted to travel by himself! He knew the area reasonably well… maybe just enough to get him to the closest town and ask for directions. But Diesel didn’t have to know! 

“Diesel, Hun, Big Daddy Coolio, I’ll be fine, I’ll be there for Ramon’s photoshoot with what's-his-face…” Shawn hummed to himself, rambling softly to himself as he tried to figure out who he was working with again. Before he could even figure out the guy’s name, Diesel’s deep voice rang through his phone again.

“You’re working with Kid, Ramon’s toyboy or whatever.”

“Riight… That guy, yeah, I won't miss it, anyway, gotta go, phone is gonna die, Byyee!” And just like that, with a small click, Shawn hung up the phone before Diesel could say goodbye. He carefully tossed his phone to the empty passenger seat before adjusting the thick, black sunglasses on his face, humming along to the music on the radio. It had been a glorious drive so far. No traffic, the sun was hot, there were no clouds in the sky… and there was nobody to annoy him- other than Diesel every 15 minutes. 

It was definitely a perfect drive, yet there was one small problem. Fuel. Shawn’s trusty lady was running low, and the next gas station was a good 50 miles out, but there was a small town coming up in a few miles. It was a risk to turn off into the town. There was the chance there was no gas station in the town in the middle of nowhere. But there was just a nagging feeling, something that just drew Shawn’s attention to this town. It just seemed to call his name, and who was he to ignore that feeling? Shawn stepped on the gas, dust blowing behind the wheels as he sped up, going way past the speed limit before he reached the town that seemed to hypnotize him.

Shawn wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he drove through the town. He was used to the luxurious life, like main cities from New York to Los Angeles… but this was beyond different. It was small, tiny, barely anything compared to what he was accustomed to. There wasn’t anything branded, no hotels with infinity pools, no Prada stores, nothing! There was barely anything in this town other than small boutiques, a few restaurants and a few small businesses, as well as a few houses.

“There has to be a gas station in this place…” Shawn mumbled to himself, trying to distract himself away from the feeling he had awhile ago.

Driving around aimlessly didn’t seem to get Shawn anywhere, there wasn’t a gas station in sight, and his car didn’t have enough fuel by the sounds of it as it seemed to hiss and moaning from his beloved Ferrari. However, what Shawn didn’t expect though was the sight of smoke appearing from underneath the hood of his car. He hadn’t realized how hot it was in this place. 

“Shit, Shit, SHIT!” Shawn gasped out, quickly pulling up to the side, and turning off his car. He scrambled to get out of his car with urgency, slamming the door shut. Shawn quickly moved to the front of the car, lifting the hood with a slight hiss of pain from how hot the metal was and how smokey the engine was. He drafted away most of the dark smoke with a small cough before moving back.

“Son of a bitch!” he hissed out in anger, kicking his car slightly with his black leather boot. Oh, how Diesel was right about taking this shitty shortcut. He could see Diesel’s smug face in his mind, which pissed him off more. He hated being wrong. He couldn’t stand it. Rubbing the stubble on his face in frustration, Shawn paced in circles in front of his car, kicking slightly at the dirt on the floor. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Shawn’s blue eyes glanced around, looking at the almost empty street, seeing a few people staring his way before looking away as he looked at them. They weren’t gonna help, clearly. Shawn grunted slightly before slamming the hood down. He had to figure something out, but calling Diesel was not one of them. He could try to find a mechanic, but it meant he had to leave his sweet, beloved Ferrari behind for now… with a reluctant, annoyed huff, Shawn grabbed what he needed from his car, his phone, wallet and keys, before starting his walk to find a mechanic.

Instantly, Shawn knew he was out of place as he walked down the street. He was dolled up in his finest clothes, that being a white, open-shirt bought from Polo Ralph Lauren, khaki brown pants from the same place, his favorite Gucci belt in black and gold and finally his favorite pair of black leather boots, ones with a small heel. Of course, he had a few accessories, like a gold watch and matching earrings. He wouldn’t leave the house without them! This was one of his more ‘casual’ outfits, something he would wear to go shopping in New York. But being in this town? It looked like he was overdressed and everyone walking by gave him a second look. Now, Shawn loved the attention. He loved having people’s eyes on him. People would even say he craved it, but the looks he was being given now, it was more looks of judgment. Shawn mindlessly messed with his shirt, trying to flatten down invisible creases, trying to distract himself from the looks. A mechanic couldn’t be too far away.

A few minutes' walk eventually turned into a 15-minute walk into the town. He had passed more small shops including a bakery (which looked heavenly, from the strawberry cakes that looked freshly made to the croissants that Shawn would have loved to buy), a few cafes, a general store and even a liquor store which he kept in mind. Luckily, he had eventually found the town's repair shop. It looked like an older building, the corners of the building being rusted, yet a new sign in black and neon pink stood out on the building, reading out ‘Hart & Co. Auto Repair’. Loud country music was blasting, and the smell of oil and rubber burnt Shawn’s nose slightly, something he definitely wasn’t used to. As he entered the small shop, he noticed a pair of blue overall cover legs underneath a truck and humming coming from the person. He glanced around the shop, trying to spot anyone else in there, but no one else was in the small space, not even a customer. Shawn cleared his throat, trying to get the person’s attention, but it didn’t seem to catch the guy's attention.

“Excuse me? Hey” Shawn spoke up, moving closer, yet there was still no response. “Hey!” he continued in a louder tone, which seemed to catch the person’s attention.

“Shoot, hold on!” The mechanic yelled out from under the truck, finally rolling out from under the truck. The man who rolled out was quite young-looking, younger than Shawn, and had a baby face. He had blonde hair up to his shoulders and bright blue eyes. Of course, his sun-kissed skin was dotted with some splotches of oil and some sort of grime, and the blue jumpsuit he wore was covered in oil and dirt. Shawn looked at the name tag the other wore, barely seeing the name ‘Owen’ under an oil splotch.

Owen carefully stood up, wiping his hands on a cloth he had in his pocket before smiling at the man in his shop and holding a hand to him.

“Hi! Sorry about that. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long. I’m Owen. What can I help you with?” Owen asked, his voice surprisingly soft and surprisingly, not an Arizona accent either.

Shawn eyed up Owen’s hand beneath his sunglasses before looking back at the man’s face before taking off the shades. He gave Owen one of his charming smiles before speaking.

“No, not at all, just got here actually,” he began, licking his lips slightly before continuing, “I need help with my car- Obviously-, It broke down a few streets back, smokin’ and all… and no fuel” Shawn explained as he watched Owen lower his hand.

Owen looked slightly hurt about the man not shaking his hand, a pout on his face slightly. He hummed slightly before grinning and nodding.

“Should be easy! Luckily, it’s been a slow day, so let me put my truck down and we can go grab your car and tow it with the truck,” the mechanic agreed eagerly after his slow day.

By the time Owen and Shawn had towed the cherry-red car back to the shop, Owen had realized it wasn’t exactly the easiest job… It was a newer car, one he had seen no one in the town drive before… but he wasn’t gonna let this new customer down! Owen had lifted the hood of the car, already knowing it would take a few days to fix from the parts he could see, knowing it would take a few days to order parts… and then a few additional days to actually fix it. 

“So… How long are you here for, Mr?...” 

“Michaels, Shawn Michaels… and I was only coming here to fuel up. "

Now that was an issue. Owen pulled a face, wincing at the thought that he’d have to give this guy bad news.

“Well, Mr. Michaels, I… I uh, suggest you plan your stay here for a few days, I don’t have parts for a car like this,” the mechanic explained, as he glanced over to Shawn who stood nearby with his arms crossed.

“A few days? You have to be kidding me, right? Fuck… Diesel is gonna kill me!” Shawn groaned out, pacing around. “Shit, there’s a decent hotel nearby… right?” he asked, raising a brow as he looked over to Owen. 

Owen winced again. Even more bad news to give the guy…

“Well… There’s a motel nearby… but it is a good 45-minute drive from town.”

Shawn ran a hand through his long, wavy locks in frustration. His day couldn’t get any worse. First, his car breaks, and now the closest place to stay is too far away for him! Diesel appeared in his mind again. That annoying, smug face. Shit, he needed a drink… or something stronger.

Owen could see the annoyance on the guy's face. He truly felt for him. He had a soft heart and couldn’t stand to see a customer disappointed.

“But! If it helps, you could stay at my family ranch for a few days? I can keep you updated on your car and you won’t need to worry about how you’d get back to my shop!” Owen offered. The family ranch had enough space to help the guy out for a few days.

At the sound of the ranch, Shawn instantly hated the idea. He imagined the place being muddy and just plain dirty! However, it meant he would have somewhere to sleep, and he wouldn’t have to worry about trying to get back to this hellhole, which was now his nightmare. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm his annoyance.

“I… I suppose it isn’t a bad idea…” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “... Yeah, fine. I’ll stay at this ranch of yours.”

“Let me close up and we can be on our way then!”.

It was common sense to not take a stranger's offer to stay at their house, but what was there for Shawn to lose? He could simply tell a small lie to Diesel, just saying that he’s spending the night at a hotel… And the day after say he was stuck in traffic and then tell him his car has broken down, just to calm the man's nerves. That and Owen just seemed so… sweet. His personality was so genuine and that was so rare to see in Shawn’s life. Yeah, he had a social life as a model, but most of the people he had met never seemed genuine. The only ones he got that feeling from were Hunter, Chyna and Diesel. Shawn truly felt as if Owen did want to help him out. 

Owen hadn’t taken too long to finish locking up. It did leave plenty of time for Shawn to have a quick look around the place. He quickly noticed that Owen was clearly a family kind of guy. There were plenty of pictures scattered around the workroom of Owen with different people, some he assumed to be his parents, others he assumed were probably his brothers and sisters, and maybe even some aunts and uncles. There were even a few pictures of a few kids- one that looked like a younger version of Owen- In some snow. But either way, it was a big family. 

The ride to this ranch was rather quiet. Yeah, there was some small talk, such as where they were both from which Shawn found out that the man was actually from Canada, which was ironic. Another question had arisen as well, the question of Shawn’s job.

“So… You’re a model? I would have thought you were an actor or something,” Owen chuckled.

“That’s sweet of you, I did want to be one, but modeling? Being all dolled up, partying… It’s the life!” Shawn grinned out, not mentioning the bad side of the job. 

“Ah, so you get paid to be pretty and to party… I wish life was that easy” Owen joked. He knew his older brother, Bret, hated that lifestyle. He was always talking about working hard for a good life, which Owen had to agree with. But the thought of partying every so often sounded like a great time. When was the last time he, Jeff Jarrett, Davey and Brian went out for drinks… It had been too long.

“I wish it was that easy,” the model started, “Strict diets, working with people you might not like with… The list is long, but the positives do outdo the negatives in my eyes”. The downfalls of being a model were clearly a touchy subject as Shawn’s grin seemed to disappear. The excited glint in his eyes after the compliment disappeared. Owen knew not to push further on that.

Owen hummed in response, nodding his head slightly, “Well, we’re almost here”.

Seeing a rather rustic house in the distance after seeing cactus after cactus was rather refreshing. The place looked rather peaceful in Shawn’s eyes. It had its own charm to it. The wooden fences that seemed to carry on for ages were cared for, the wood seemed almost new, even if grass tangled and vined itself around the posts. A sign soon came up as they drove along the side of the property. Shawn eyed it up, raising a brow as he saw the name ‘Hart Ranch’. Very creative. 

Entering the beginning of the ranch, Shawn could already see a few animals around in different pastures. There were a few horses, even cows… It reminded Shawn of an old photoshoot he did, one which he enjoyed a lot. He got to dress up like he was a cowboy, the hat, boots and even chaps, the whole shebang! Hunter and Chyna were there as well and they looked amazing in their getup… even if Hunter’s horse he had to ride kept stealing his hat. A small, reminiscent smile graced his face.

The house seemed to grow as they traveled down the long, dirt road. From a while back it looked tiny, something that an old couple would live in. Yet now being so close to it, he noticed how huge it was. It must have been handbuilt, there were uneven grooves in the woods of the walls and fences in front of the house, something that showed how much hard work was put into it. There were even some stone bricks that decorated the oak wood. Bright, fresh vines climbed through the maze of bricks in the house, adding more color to the home. This must have been built years ago, even before Shawn was born. 

Owen and Shawn exited the truck. Owen helped his guest by grabbing the large bag that they had lugged into the truck before they left.

“I’m not too sure who will be in… I know my Ma will be in, my dad will probably be working with Bret, my older brother, somewhere on the ranch… probably fixing something” Owen laughed, “and my sister Diana will be probably looking after the horses… So it should be luckily quiet for you, just for now at least”.

Quietly, Shawn followed Owen up the steps to the patio before opening the screen door, which had a beautiful panel at the bottom that had been engraved by hand into a tree, and entering the rather cool home, the door closing with a soft bang. The home was decorated with even more pictures than what was at the auto repair home, some that were in black and gray, their corners torn and frayed from age which confirmed Shawn’s thought of the place being handbuilt, while others were newer and fresher. There were a few shoes scattered around by the front door being in different sizes and styles, some being boots, some were flats and even a few heels. Owen placed down Shawn’s bag by the oak stairs that stood in front of them before moving into the large, spacious room to the right of them which Shawn slowly followed after.

“Ma! I’m home! I have a guest!” Owen hollered out into the rather silent home, the only noise he could hear after was the sound of the cicadas that buzzed louder. Owen continued to walk towards the kitchen, which Shawn assumed it was. 

Instead of following the young man, Shawn looked around the cozy looking living room. There were a few brown leather couches that surrounded a fireplace, a few blankets were carefully and almost lovingly lined up over the top. Handmade throw pillows laid untouched in the corners by the arms of the couches, embroidery were neatly laced throughout the rather soft looking material which had quotes such as ‘Home Sweet Home’ and ‘Welcome to our happy place’. It was rather sickeningly sweet to see, yet it seemed to suit the home rather well. A large, thick cow rug of brown, black and white laid underneath an oak table, a mug left on a coaster, clearly left and forgotten by accident in the clean house. Bookcases lined the back walls of the living room, full of leather bound books of different colors and sizes before more newer kids books littered between well used and loved books. Finally, Shawn noticed more family pictures, one of a whole family that was framed above the fireplace in front of a different house. 

Shawn wasn’t the type to get homesick. He had a pretty close relationship with his mom, but that was it. He’d phone her every so often. But even in his parents home, there were barely any photos of them as a family, as Shawn grew up, the pictures dwindled down until there was nothing new. Seeing these pictures though, it tugged at Shawn’s heart, the feeling of homesickness being more apparent. He quickly shook his head, trying not to get sentimental.

The perfect distraction eventually came, pulling Shawn out of his thoughts as he heard the front door open again. Shawn glanced over his shoulder, his eyes landing on a taller man. Now, Shawn may not have been the type to be homesick, but he was the type to be a hopeless romantic, and when this guy walked into the house? Shawn could feel blood rush to his cheeks.

The guy had curly, deep brown hair that reached his shoulders. His skin was tanned much like a god, the sheen of sweat clung to the man's brows and neck. His eyes were a dark, melted chocolate color that held warmth in them. And his outfit? Shawn was loving it. A black cowboy hat sat upon his head like a halo, his blue, checkered shirt hugged around his strong, muscular chest perfectly, his jeans hugged oh-so-perfectly around his legs. This man was something Shawn wanted and needed.

Silence filled the room as the man stared down Shawn, staring down his outfit before looking around the living room. It was an awkward silence, one that Shawn could tell that this guy was trying to figure out who Shawn was and why he was just standing there. 

Before Shawn could even speak, the mans low voice filled the room, “Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my home?”.

[namelessprayers]

in a scalding heatwave of 1980s arizona, sua slaved away behind a counter of a dreary diner somewhere out in the middle of who knows where. she minimally swept the tiled the floors and unenthusiastically took cheques from equally unenthused customers, likely driving from nowhere to nowhere on long and wide dirt roads.

eventually, the hue of the sand and the sun would meld together in their eyes; thus, the point of the dingy little pit stop which sua was condemned to work at. it was made just a bit more unbearable by the high temperature on this specifically irksome dayshift she regretted accepting.

"pink hair with blue end's yours." luka said.

for being their manager, he wasn't particularly invested in ever actually doing things. he only ever served the pair of brown haired siblings who came in few and far enough times for sua to not remember their names. another weird thing about luka was the fact that he largely identified people by their haircut and colour. "ivan's still entertaining the red haired one, so, you better get on that."

"right." sua responded dryly, propping her broom back in its designated corner. she stopped herself from letting out a huff of frustration, instead resigned to plaster on a forced smile and comply to luka's orders. "it would be my pleasure."

======

so it turns out that pink hair is a weirdo, despite all things considered, like the fact that they're in the middle of nowhere and by that logic everyone is already pretty weird. somehow, she manages to be weirder.

okay, so maybe there isn't anything wrong with being weird, or wrong with the pink haired girl. still. she's strange, and the way she keeps staring at sua is off putting to say the least.

then again, a lot of people stare at sua. luka says she should lighten up and take it as a compliment, while ivan often laughs over it by telling sua that it's not every day you meet someone like her. though she brushes the words off, she still mulls about the connotations of what ivan insinuates, even if he mostly spouts pointless information.

he can be pretty observant, him and luka both, even if it's uncanny and unnerving in sua's opinion; she supposes it's helpful if there's merit to the observations, and there might be in this situation, as pink hair is earnestly eyeing sua with big bright eyes that might as well be cleaving into her soul.

no, pink hair is definitely weirder than the standard of their clientele.

several times after ordering a singular strawberry milkshake, she calls sua back to get another straw since she chewed on hers too hard or to get a new napkin because she shredded the old one into shreds.

it only feels right when she hangs around for all the rest of sua's shift, to the point that sua can't help glaring in the direction of pink hair as she folds up her apron to leave. when she finishes depositing the necessary things in the storage room, she exits to be greeted by ivan, who's smiling with a tad too much glee as he always does when till is going to be on the next shift within the next hour.

"what do you want?" flatly asks sua, direct as she always is so that she can leave faster and hopefully escape the oppressing heat of the poorly aired diner sooner. like always, ivan grins in the face of sua's bluntness with an edge of irritating amusement. she clenches her jaw, stifling an annoyed sigh but not her frown.

"when did you get a girlfriend?"

"a girlfriend?" echoes sua, both incredulous and skeptical, as well as awed at either the notion or ivan's sheer gall. "i don't have a girlfriend."

"really?" says ivan, tilting his head in a way that flashes his snaggletooth out the corner of his smile. it's smug, like he knows something sua doesn't. immediately, she wonders how much she needs to bribe ivan with so he doesn't go blabbing to luka about her supposed girlfriend. "then what's the pink haired girl at the counter doing waiting around for you?"

"did she say that, or are you just assuming?" sua replies defensively, but also more confidently than she feels, as both answers to her question are going to prove to be a problem.

"she said she's here to pick you up," continues ivan, ignorant to the dilemma it sparks in sua, "did you schedule a hang out and forget or something?" his brows crease ever so slightly as his gaze seems to narrow in on where sua bites the inside of her cheek. "were you planning on brushing her off? because that's kind of a douchey thing to do. honestly, sua, i didn't take you for that kind of person."

"i'm not." she barely manages to grit out in a flimsy rebuttal. "plus, isn't till the one who never shows up on time to- like -everything?"

"yeah," answers ivan with ease and a certain wistfulness in his expression, "but he's allowed to do that." since she's pretty sure the disgust shows on her face, sua walks past ivan and chooses not to dignify his unwavering affliction towards till with a response.

======

the scene has a filmy overlay to it, as though it was put in the oven and hasn't come out, roasting and cooking steadily.

sua chalks up her discomfort to the heat and ties up her hair for good measure, cursing the fact that she hasn't yet gotten around to cutting it. of course, the insane climate isn't the craziest thing sua's got to tend to at the moment, as the pink haired girl was and is still being insistent in... well, in being an interesting sort of nuisance.

"you're saying you've been looking for a long time across parallel dimensions. specifically, looking for me." surmises sua in the most saccharine tone she can muster. then, with an air of added wonderment, "for me?"

"uh huh. who else?" asks pink hair, genuinely pondering in the question that sua doesn't get; it should be more like literally anyone else but her. somehow, pink hair doesn't seem to agree. "in every universe, no matter the circumstance, i meet you and you change my life. that's just the way it is sua, i don't know how else to explain."

"wait, how do you know my name?" says sua, managing to wrap her thoughts around approximately half of what impossible narrative this stranger is giving to her.

"the alternate dimension travel, obviously." comes the immediate statement which sua only gives a disbelieving a stare to. pink hair raises her free hand and drink with wide disarming eyes. "i'm not lying. i really have been looking, and for a very long time. see, in every universe, we've already met and there's no room for me. i'm just an extra. the entire scheme of existence doesn't really have a place for me to be. so, i thought, maybe if i found a sua without a mizi, there'd be an empty space that i could fill."

"a mizi." mulls sua aloud. "so that's your name." she affirms, more to herself than to the other, but mizi gets the memo and flushes bright red anyways.

"shoot, i did kind of forget to introduce myself, didn't i? well, no time like the present to do it. i'm mizi." she amends, extending a hand sheepishly for sua to shake. the miracle is that their fingers and palms don't feel all that sweaty when they touch. if anything, sua supposes it seems kind of right. a correction of her life.

"i'm sua. but you already knew that."

======

bizarre as their first meeting was, sua is glad for it. mizi doesn't mention much upon the subject of why she had to traverse such lengths just to find sua, but it doesn't matter so much, now that they have each other and can stay that way for as long as existence allows.

instead, mizi likes to go over the many universes and ways they fell in love. they're officially girlfriends now, although ivan and everyone else is under the impression that sua had just been keeping a secret girlfriend from them for the last five years of working at their quaint diner in the middle of nowhere.

which is to say that everyone else are idiots, but sua doesn't mind when she finishes shifts and locks up to be greeted by mizi's sincere smiles and bubbly laughter. sua doesn't know if mizi was lying about the parallel dimensions and hopping through realities where they were always together, but she thinks there's truth to it, even if it was a largely fabricated thing to get sua's attention.

then again, she doesn't think mizi's capable of being anything but honest. it's one of the things she loves most about her; the ability to be realistically optimistic, against all odds.

======

"how do you deal with it, being here where no one is anybody and we're all nobodies? isn't it... sad? don't you wish you were in any other universe since you've seen them all?"

"i can deal with it because of you. i don't feel like a nobody with you; and if we were actually somebodies in other timelines or worlds, i don't think i need much in this universe. maybe, this is just a respite, and maybe that's enough. yeah, it's sad, but it's not lonely. there's no other place i'd rather be than right here next to you."

sua thinks they might be cosmically intwined, or something like that.

[one-of-many-journeys]

Day 108

Carson city

Nothing useful so far. No sign of Elysium yet either. A few outposts holding the communication lines across Utah and down into Arizona. Breadcrumbs of data, pointing the way to auxiliary Zero Dawn facilities—the sort that didn't last long once the Swarm broke ground off the southern coast. I have a lot of leads to follow. I just have to hope that a thousand years of decay haven't destroyed every last one of them.

And I got sentimental, after a while. Riding in circles, pointed backwards by newly decoded logs, through outlands occupied only by bandits and tiny tribes holding out against their raids. Mostly machines. New machines. At least that's been exciting.

I finally found an ancient map of the area in one of the old Enduring Victory military bunkers. Carson city was close; the place where Elisabet was born, and might even have returned to. At least, she meant to. When I set out I didn't think she could have walked all the way from Gaia Prime across the dead lands, through the swarm's ranks. I suppose they might have been laying down to rest by then, food running low. Still, a long journey to make alone.

I rode west, coming up through Arizona to dodge Carja borders and Tenakth territory, walled off by mountain ranges. More of Elisabet's journals were decrypted on the journey, both written in her curt tone and spoken in confidence to Gaia. If only I had a voice like her's to encourage me on my way. My odds seem just as impossible. The old world is in ruins, its data mostly a mess of garbled code, but Gaia wouldn't have sent me on this journey if she didn't know that there was a backup somewhere—some way to repair her.

At least I hope so. Machines think in microseconds, but maybe even she didn't have enough time to think things through before the mountain cracked and crumbled.

I made it to the ranch in the evening. The sun through the hanging dust of the desert touched everything pink and gold, and there was this oasis, this ring of vegetation clinging to a rusted structure in the middle of nowhere. Tall pines, the only trees for miles around. Even now, twenty years after the terraforming system started spiraling, the place was still green. It's probably some deep part of the world's programming now. This lingering honour of its creator.

She was lying on a bench, wrapped in armour like the set I so recently stripped for parts. Pink flowers framed her corpse in a triangle, like one of Demeter's metal flowers. Ivy climbed up through her suit. My Focus projection showed me a picture of her face. A holoskin, they used to call it. There was nothing but a skull beneath that helmet, if even that, but the projection showed her at peace. Showed her name on her cracked chest plate.

There was a pendent by her hand, clearly dropped from her grip, likely held until the end. I recognised it as a map of the world. The colours of green and blue paint still hadn't faded completely. There were hinges, rusted shut, that I didn't prise for fear of breaking it altogether. It seemed one nudge away from dissolving.

As I held it, and as I journeyed back, there's one journal I kept listening to over and over. Elisabet spoke of her mother often in her talks with Gaia, but mostly in the abstract. This one memory, she spoke of in detail. It clearly made its mark on her. Maybe the first time she felt guilt and reeled from it in a rage. Her mother forced her to feel it, to act on it. Taught her might be the better word. From all I've heard of the Old World, seems like a lot of people never learnt. There's the burning of one tree, a few birds, then there's the entire planet and all life on it. Faro could never face up to that.

The journey out here wasn't a complete waste of time. Closure, maybe—something priceless, a garden instead of a headstone, another abandoned old house that will never be home—reassurance, a feeling of being watched. The good kind. More importantly for the mission, there was data on Elisabet's suit mapping out the locations of other Zero Dawn facilities—backup data centres and old laboratories roped into the project as Robot Command scooped up all the resources it could find. Yet more leads. Best get back on the trail.

[mopillow]

He Cheng Week 2024

Wait… wait a damn second that’s next week, this is just a preview because I don’t have the time, by the way if you guys are in Florida see you this weekend in… the middle of nowhere, thankful for my job just hoping one of this days they could send me to a nice place, anyway oh yes the preview

So 10 years ago Q looked like this

and He Cheng was close to this

No idea how old is He Tian in this picture but he could be between 3 and 6… He Cheng doesn’t look as muscular as Q he also looks younger…

If you guys live in NY, Arizona and Georgia see you soon, oh Cesena see you next year, I don’t think I know anyone in nowhere but if you guys see me just say hi, I would love to have some coffee with you

[jabberwockymoreau]

So very excited to finally be able to post my @aftgsecretsnowflake gift for the wonderful @sturmdunkel! I'm incredibly in love with this AU I came up with for your robot prompt, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it <3

Tags: T, Andrew/Neil, Alternative Universe – Sci Fi, Sci Fi AU, Robots and Androids, Robot AU, Aftg Secret Snowflake

Length: 10k

Summary:

Andrew Minyard has drawn his lot in life. Working a boring job as a gas station attendant by day and earning some extra cash fixing up whatever cyborgs and androids pass through the small town of Millport, Arizona was never his dream, but then men like Andrew don't have dreams. The money's good, and that's all that matters because he has a brother racking up student debt in med school. It also means that when a runaway android from the nation's most notorious tech company stumbles into his store, Andrew is forced to help him out to protect the investments he's already made. Or something like that. - Or, an Andreil Robot AU

Excerpt:

The smile turned into a grimace. “Right, right. Well, you see, my bike’s battery died, so I’ll need one of these...uh, can you recommend any?”

And Andrew should probably let him leave it at that. It wasn’t his business what his customers got up to, especially not the lying kind. But before Andrew could think better of it he asked: “How far out?”

“Some miles. Not too bad. An okay walk without the bike.” He shrugged.

And Andrew really should just let it be. Except this was the middle of nowhere in Arizona. The gas station’s address was nominally listed as Millport, but it was several miles out from the town that was really a few streets clustered around a church and a general store, it’s existence only excused by the fact that it sat along a major highway and the occasional passersby needed gas, food or a roof over their head. Dozens of miles of barren wasteland accompanied the highway to both sides of the gas station, offering no shade with which to protect against the aggressive, early summer sun.

Even inside the air conditioned shop Andrew could feel the heat press in, sweat collecting underneath the black armbands he wore with his T-shirt. In a few weeks it would be unbearable – yet there was no perspiration on the man’s pale skin. Or sunburn. His sluggish, odd behavior could be heatstroke. Andrew had seen that before, and the symptoms weren’t off. But his professional guess was a different one.

Without a word he stepped past the man, heading towards the coolers that lined the front of the shop. The man followed, then paused by the last row of shelves before the gap of the aisle, holding onto them for balance. His expression was confused, but Andrew delivered him an answer before he had time to ask. Grabbing a bottle of water, he tossed it at the man and then watched it bounce of his chest and drop to the floor. The man blinked, only understanding after the fact, and bent down carefully to pick it up.

It was supposed to be a simple test to prove Andrew’s theory correct: All commercial androids lacked an esophagus and the appropriate organs to imbibe and digest food and drink. After all, there was no point in such vanities, when the space inside the faux-human body could instead be used for more storage and better ventilation to help the machine exist. That the man wasn’t human Andrew had really no doubt about: He’d seen enough of them in his life to be able to tell the small differences in the way the machines moved and perceived the world, compared to humans.

But after slowly deciphering the label, the android made no excuse for itself. It simply uncapped the bottle and downed the entire thing in three large gulps.

Andrew let the freezer door fall shut, unable to tear his eyes away from the way the android’s throat moved as it drank. A shiver ran down his spine, and it had nothing to do with the cold that had escaped from the coolers: There was only one android manufacturer in the world whose machines could have passed this little test, and that meant this one was trouble. Not the kind they had been expecting, perhaps, but this million dollar investment in its filthy rags was broken. Andrew doubted it would make it out of the desert even with a solar charger to substitute for its busted battery, and if its body was found along the highway that would lead the wrong people right to Millport – and Kevin.

It was a risk Andrew couldn’t afford.

[read on Ao3]

[sea-salted-wolverine]

i just found out something insane.

Interior, northern, and most of western Alaska has no medevac capabilities. as in if you get fucked and need a helicopter ride to the hospital you are stuck hoping for some bullshit.

so in the civilized world, medevac companies can be dispatched out to remote or difficult-to-reach injuries and emergencies and it functions like a flying ambulance. the medics arrive on scene in the helicopter and that's the transport to the hospital. this is the case in anchorage and the outlying communities as well as the southwest.

if you are north of Talkeetna and you get hurt badly here are your options. First, you hope that first responders can reach you by land because they won't be coming by air. They won't even be coming by water because while there is a robust Coast Guard presence in this state the ocean freezes for half the year and AFAIK once the water is solid there's not much they can do.

so once the medic gets to you and decrees that yep you definitely need hospital now as in helicopter-now these are your options.

you can 1.) hope that the State Troopers are bored. Emergency transport is not the trooper's job and the helicopters are not set up for it but if they're not doing anything else you can get a pilot out to the middle of nowhere to come help you.

or 2.) and I am not making this up, you hope that it is summertime and that something near you is on fire but not so on fire that the wildland fire crews can't spare the resources to get you to town.

And then that gets you to Fairbanks Memorial which is ... like trying to go grocery shopping at a gas station. If it is anything more complex than a broken bone, you're moving on. probably to Seattle. not to mention the medics who kept you alive on the flight there now need to figure out how to get back to wherever they came from.

for reference, courtesy of NPS

Eastern Kansas, Missouri, the Panhandle and the Aleutians get to live in the 21st century. kinda.

but the part that really gets me is that THERE IS NO ALTERNATIVE. there are no roads to these places. to get to the hospital in a non-emergency requires a plane anyway. or a couple weeks on a barge.

see the red? those are roads. see all the dots with no roads going to them? think that there are some roads this map managed to leave out and that this is an exaggeration of how poorly connected this place is? nope. sure there are some smaller roads that didn't make it on the map, but the cartographer didn't miss a road the length of Nebraska.

This is also why buying an Arizona green tea costs seven dollars in Galena.

[majoryeager104]

anybody in Arizona wanna tell me why there’s so many freakin nails in the road in the middle of nowhere

[redfish-blu]

People asked to drop the Danger Days tl from my last post so I’ll do that.

*Disclaimer: Not canon at all this is just my personal idea and take on like. How all that happened. Based on what they said in the videos and comics sort of.

*Disclaimer 2: I have not read National Anthem and I don’t care if this doesn’t line up with that.

Zones Timeline

1947:

- Cold War begins.

1987: Dr. D is born (hey legend).

1991:

- Cold War does not end.

1996:

- 1st Helium War starts.

- NATO and the Warsaw countries exchange declarations of war.

- Most of Eastern Europe is destroyed first, followed by the Middle East. Russia remains intact, as do a few Western European countries. Not including Great Britain or Germany.

- Other countries fall into isolation in fear of being the next targets of war, and either disappear into themselves or join pacts with one another. Some disperse entirely.

1997:

- America dissolves into civil unrest after attacks on the mainland result in various important political figures’ deaths.

- A number of American states cede from the nation and become The Confederacy of California, as per their secession being definitely illegal, and they take the states of California, Nevada, Arizona, and Wyoming.

- Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, and Texas are disputed.

- The rest of the states are assimilated into The Federal Republic of The United States, however they are in constant political battles between themselves because now everyone either wants out of the nation or they want control of it.

1997-98:

- Technology stagnates, but still advances. Just nowhere near as fast as it did in our lives.

1998:

- 1st Helium War ends.

- Cherri Cola is born.

- Tensions between the COC and the FRUS are high strung but not hostile.

- This is generally considered peacetime, if peacetime can be defined as you and the person you just fist fought in the bathroom being forced to sit next to one another in the principal’s office. Alone.

- A company specializing in chemistry and weapons manufacturing under the name of “Better Tech” rises in the COC and the FRUS.

2000:

- 2nd Helium War starts.

- Jet Star is born.

- War is declared on the FRUS by the COC, and various military campaigns take place in the disputed states.

- Better Tech supplies resources to both sides in a kind of double entendre situation where neither side knows they’re actually being played.

2001:

- Party Poison is born.

2006:

- Kobra Kid is born.

- Fun Ghoul is born.

- Helium Wars end when a series of nuclear bombs are dropped around the Rocky Mountains.

- The FRUS is never heard from again, and radio/electronic communication is disrupted by damage to the earth’s electromagnetic field.

- Better Tech rebrands themselves to Better Living Industries and gain influence over the COC government with the aim of salvaging the country and fixing the physical damage done by the war as well as the mental trauma of the citizens.

2010:

- BLi attempt to take control of Latin America but are flushed out by rebellion, and Mexico’s border is closed.

- Canada follows suit soon after, and America is officially cut off. Trapping everyone who remains there within the country (legally).

2012:

- Pig Bombs drop, eliminating Texas and New Mexico, whose governments were still kind of functioning independently after Helium 2 and building resistance against the COC.

- Fires of 2012 destroy Phoenix but leave Las Vegas intact. All remaining military units are pulled to Los Angeles.

- This is where BLi’s intense propaganda machine starts working to cover up all the crap they do. Working in tandem with how technologically challenged most people are at that point.

- BLi take what’s left of the lower 48 and establish Battery City as the new capital of America. Their borders define the nation as California, Oregon, Nevada, Utah, and Arizona.

- However, BLi becomes notoriously bad at maintaining and “cleansing” their proclaimed territories; and most of the area outside of Zone 3 sees little to no substantial BLi presence at all.

- Dr. Death Defying makes his first radio broadcast as a rebel.

2013:

- Analog Wars begin.

- Battle of Utah takes place wherein Salt Lake City is destroyed in a series of Killjoy v. BLi battles.

- Destroya was used for its first and only time during this battle, and was abandoned in Zone 3 during BLi’s retreat.

2015:

- Analog Wars pause after significant damages to both sides prompt an unofficial ceasefire, giving way to a long period of relative inactivity.

- BLi uses this time to build its presence in everyday life, establish the Zones, and advance it’s scientific research and development.

2028:

- The Girl is born.

- Girl’s mom is Drac’d

2029:

- The Girl is found by Killjoys.

- Analog Wars start up again when her existence is uncovered.

2029-35:

- These years see the most one on one fighting between kj factions and BLi since the Analog Wars first started.

- Generally remembered as a sort of Zones Renaissance due to the re-popularization of art, media, and philosophy within the killjoy community.

- Who had fractured off in the years after the armistice and became very detached from one another rather than a collective movement.

2035:

- The Killjoys die.

- Analog Wars officially end.

2036-47:

- The schools of thought built up during the renaissance period fade into the background once again as their figureheads either die off or become irrelevant.

- This is the era in which the Val Velocity era of killjoys grow up in. They were all born well after the Helium and Analog wars began and ended, so they have little to no connection to the values or customs of pre-war life.

- Its very Lost Generation-y in that everyone just kind of wants to party and forget about how their lives suck underneath all the glitter.

2047:

- California Comics events.

- Cherri Cola dies.

- Dr. D dies (rip legend).

- BLi is destroyed.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hello, i hope you're doing well!!

(every time I send these I think about what's the appropriate time to send another one??)

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅⛅🌥️🌥️

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

Take care, <3

HEY! Thank you :) You can send them whenever you want! Sometimes just takes me a minute to get to them.

Promising Light has been posted! Here are the other two.

54 for 🔼:

---

Now is not the time.

“Eddie said he was your partner in all this, and that includes not letting them walk all over you again,” Maddie says, voice intense. “He needs to man up and make a choice.”

Shannon blinks. Make a choice? What choice? 

“Uh, I’m not asking him to cut them off or not have them in his life,” Shannon says. “And he didn’t know they were coming.”

“Right, well…” Maddie trails off, like she’s not entirely sure of his argument. “He had better stand up for you.”

Shannon exhales. “I know. So far he has, at least.”

“Good,” Maddie says, raising her chin defensively. 

Damn. What has gotten into her? Shannon knows therapy has been hard for her lately. But seriously?

But as it turns out, when the Diaz parents do arrive, not long before the 118 gets back from a call, it’s not Shannon that needs defending. 

They corner her as she’s setting out cutlery on the table, following Athena’s placement instructions to the letter. At first, she thinks it’s about Jane. She has Jane wrapped in a chest carrier, and expects that all they want is time with their granddaughter. Which, honestly? Fine. Easier to set up without the baby strapped to her anyway, and if she gives them some quality time with Jane, they’ll probably be more amicable, generally. Win, win. 

That’s not what happens. 

“Hi, Shannon,” Helena says, a sickly-fake smile on her face. Ramon, for once, doesn’t join her. He stays across the loft, talking to Abuela and Christopher. “How are you, honey?”

Shannon goes rigid for half a second, completely caught off guard. Honey? When has Helena ever called her Honey?

“Oh, hi. Mrs. Diaz, I…”

“Oh, please, just call me Helena after all these years,” she waves her hand dismissively.

Shannon has to clench her teeth to keep her jaw from dropping. 

“Okay,” Shannon nods. “I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

Not that she cares. But, who is she to break this suspicious silent truce prematurely?

“Good, good,” Helena says. “Eddie says it’s been going so well between the two of you this time around. I’m so happy to hear that.”

Shannon feels a thrum of uncertainty. Has Eddie been talking about her to them? But that sounds like something Eddie would say to brush them off. The wounds in her say not to trust any of them. No one with the last name Diaz she didn’t physically create. The part of her that has committed to trusting Eddie holds fast. 

---

54 for 🌲:

---

It takes him a moment to snap back. To orient himself enough to start swimming upwards, towards a grayish-looking surface. It takes him a few seconds, heavy and clumsy from the cold, to break through a calm surface. Calm, because no one was ever shoved into it. 

When Eddie surfaces, gasping for air just as cold as the water, he’s shocked to find he’s somewhere completely different. A different lake. And certainly not one in Arizona. Just like the leaves in his bedroom, this lake has seemingly come out of nowhere. Only, this time, he’s the one who has materialized. 

Eddie treads water in a circle, looking around himself. He obviously has suspicions of where he is. But he’s never been to Sweden to confirm. How does he know a lake in Sweden from a lake anywhere else? He could be in, like, Quebec. For all he knows. 

He tries to figure it out, rationally. It’s a gray day. Misty. Fog is rising off the water. It’s hard to know the time. He can’t see where in the sky the sun is. But he does get the feeling it’s later in the day, nearing sunset. There’s a haze to everything. Call it instinct, but that’s what he thinks. 

He’s in the middle of what looks like a bay. A small, roundish area that seems to be connected to a larger body of water maybe half a mile out. He has perhaps a quarter mile swim to shore. Excellent. Thank you, Adriana. Protecting him against his own… Well, actually, he doesn’t have an answer for that. He doesn’t know what to call Buck. But certainly not a threat. 

As he starts swimming, the realization hits him. Adriana does think Buck is a threat. And she’s killed before, frightened by men who attacked her. Will she believe him if he defends himself against this characterization? Will she remember him? Will she hurt him?

He starts swimming faster, panic spiking. What if his sister murders Buck and dumps his body in this lake? What if Buck dies because Eddie had to bring him? Because Eddie can’t be alone? Oh god. Eddie is alone now. He’s really, completely alone. A world away from the only person who he can fully trust right now. 

He’s alone is a cold fucking lake.

He has no way home. 

And Buck is in danger. 

The panic in Eddie cracks the same way it did the night of that fateful call with Chris and his mother. 

🍂

“You have to get him back,” Buck demands. “Bring him back, right now. I’m serious.”