#rabbit ears mini backpack

[1989butcher]

Boots

daryl dixon x reader

he gave you a pair of oversized boots a long time ago, and you’ve kept them ever since.

set: alexandria, you got separated when the prison fell.

2.7k words

FLUFF!!!!!!!! i <3 fluff. this is my first fic pls be nice to me 🥹

————————————————————————

Y/N’s POV

I’ve been walking for months with nothing but a near empty backpack and boots that are far too big for my feet. The last time I slept with four walls was a long time ago at the prison. I haven’t even fully began to process what happened, I simply haven’t had the time.

When this whole thing started, I was visiting my brother in Atlanta. I didn’t know when my parents dropped me off at the airport in Michigan would be the last time I saw them. I lost my family, well everyone but Glenn, but after enough time I gained a new one.

The people I met in Atlanta, the ones that made in to the Greene farm, were some of the best people I had come across in my life. I never thought I would enjoy chilly nights eating rabbits, oddly enough I had one as a pet when growing up. Glenn never failed to remind me when I would be eating one, which led Daryl to tease me about it every time he brought one home. “This one look like yours?” He would always bring it to me first. I turned away quickly. “Stop!” I covered my eyes. I think a smile would curl from his lips. I would almost laugh out of anger. I knew every time he did this, he would come right to me to rub it in my face. “I wish I never told you about Thumper.” I said, basically talking into my shoulder. I turned to him on the log I was sitting on, still covering my eyes but peeking in between my fingers. “I ain’t ever gonna let you live this down.” I sighed, while he turned on his heel and walked away.

Glenn was sitting opposite of me, with Maggie of course. “Whatever happened to the little guy?” Glenn asked, his fingers intertwined with Maggie. Couldn’t even begin to believe my big brother found love at a time like this. I went back to building the fire, slower than before in hopes the archer would make a joke about it. “I dunno, after like five years I’m pretty sure he died, but mom said he ran away. Either way, he got a better fate than he would now.” I replied, staring into the dimming fire. I’m sure Maggie said something about rabbits on the farm, but that’s where the memory stops.

The farm being overrun was something inevitable, especially after we found out walkers were living in the barn. I’ll never forget standing there with Daryl, as he ran to Carol to stop her from going after Sophia. I don’t think he will ever forget that either. I know he blames himself, no matter how many times I said it wasn’t his fault. He would hold his head in his hands and I would rub his back, telling him ‘it’s ok’. He would shake his head and always reply no, or more like “Nah.” I just wanted to be there for him and take away his pain.

Speaking of pain, my feet were throbbing. I have been walking on this road for what feels like years. I don’t even know how much time has passed since the prison fell. I think living there was the happiest I had ever been. Our small family from the farm turned into a full on community. We farmed, had animals, kids went to a sort of school (if that’s what Carol wants to call it), and so much more. Runs were sort of fun, although Daryl never wanted me to go. One time, Glenn, Maggie, and I went on a run and promised to be home by sundown, as usual. I was hardcore third wheeling, but that was my brother and Maggie had become my sister. We were singing in the car, celebrating the canned foods we had found in an abandoned mini-van. Laughing, it almost felt normal. It was night when we returned, since we went a bit farther than we predicted. Rick, Tyreese, and of course, Daryl were waiting at the gate as we pulled up. They looked worried sick but I think the three of us were grinning ear to ear. When I stepped out of the car, unscathed, I saw the archer sigh in relief. “Don’t tell me you were worried Daryl, how sweet!” I teased him, handing him a crate of food. He huffed a quick “whatever” and I turned away and smiled. I think he saw me smile, I hoped he did. I never did tell him about the warm way he made me feel, quite literally warm. I was constantly cold, and he would always be bringing me back blankets or jackets. He even replaced my beaten converse with boots. Boots that were too big, but boots none the less. I also never told him they didn’t really fit, but I loved them too much to find a new pair.

The sun was glaring in my eyes. I laughed at the fact that pre-end of the world, I would have wanted sunglasses to avoid wrinkles from squinting. Even though nowadays, all everyone does is squint. I say everyone as if I have seen a single person since all those weeks ago. Feels like a lifetime has passed.

I decided to take a turn down a road with lots of tire tracks. Maybe I could actually find some sort of shed for the night in a few hours. Cook my very own rabbit. Daryl would be proud. At this very thought, I heard a rustle in the woods. I quickly grabbed my knife strapped to my hip. It indeed was a walker. It growled as it slowly made its way from the forest floor towards me. I walked up to it, shoved my knife into its grey skull, and kicked it back into the forest floor.

I brushed the hair out of my face after putting the knife back in a belt loop. “Where am I supposed to put it?” I asked, as Glenn handed me the knife I carry now. He walked away, passing other weapons out from a run he came back from. Those strong, warm arms came from behind me, with a soft grunt he took the knife from my hands and spun me around, wrapping his fingers through the loops on back of my jeans. His dark hair covering his eyes, he looked through the hair at me. Lifting the knife up for me to see, he slid it through a belt loop. “Got it?” He asked. I nodded in reply, my cheeks red with the fact his hands were still on my waist.

I couldn’t take these memories anymore. For all I knew, they were all dead. Or if some weren’t, they assumed I was. I’m sure of it. My family was gone, again. And I couldn’t help but blame myself.

I don’t want to replay that day in my head with what I could have done differently. That heartbreak would kill me. So I kept moving.

As I kept walking, I could swear I heard children laughing. A noise hard to come by these days, and even harder now after being alone. I surely wouldn’t recognize myself with the knotted hair, covered in dirt and blood, some of it was mine.

I picked up the pace, almost as if I was expecting children to come run and laugh by me. I looked around and saw down the road lots of cars lined up. People had to have done that. Survivors had to have done that. I think I was running at this point, I couldn’t tell. My feet have been numb since the last time I slept.

Around the corner from these cars, I saw a wall with a sign that read “ALEXANDRIA”. Holy shit. A town. With walls. I knew walking up to the gates was a bad idea, but at this point if they shot me, they shot me.

My brother was gone, with his wife who became my best friend. Our leader was gone. Same with his son and baby that I had grown extremely close to. The archer, too. And I wouldn’t admit it, but I love that archer.

I walked up the gates, my feet were stunned I had stopped moving. I quietly knocked, with a coarse “Hello?” I hadn’t talked in days, the last drink was from a river probably a day ago.

A man with a dark mullet and khaki shorts opened the gates ever so slightly. “Who are you?” He asked.

“My name is Y/N, is this your community?” I was basically begging. I was fighting tears from welling up in my eyes. A real person.

“I’m not at the liberty to discuss that with you.” He replied sternly. He looked around, as if someone was going to give him an answer. He held a large gun, clearly he didn’t know how to use it. I was frustrated, and I could take him down if need be, but I was going to be civil about this.

“What is it, Eugene?” someone asked him from behind the gate. I swear I’ve heard the voice before, but I thought it was pure exhaustion fueling my delusion/

“One moment, please hand over your weapons.” The man, assumingely named Eugene said. I handed him my knife and my pistol, that maybe had one bullet left in it. Just as quickly as he opened them, he closed the gates. I still had my pocket knife in my backpack. One of those tourists ones with your name on it. Daryl brought it back for me on a run once, and I’ve never used it. Just kept it, like a token.

“I know this knife.” The faceless voice gasped. Now, instead of just the solid wall, both parts of the gates opened and there she was.

Maggie. Maggie Rhee. Tears in her eyes as she held the knife at her waist, her wedding ring my brother gave her shining in the sun. “Y/N?” she said at an almost whisper. I went to reply, but no words came out. Those tears I had been fighting came out in full force as she crossed over to hug me. Her hand at the back of my head as we knelt to the ground to hold each other. Maggie was here, Glenn had to be. And if they were, who knows who else had made it.

I cried into her shoulder for a moment, until she grabbed my face to brush the hair out of my eyes. “I can’t believe it’s really you.” I smiled back at her, bringing her in for another hug. After a few more minutes of tears, we pulled away, stood up, and shut the gates behind us. “Wait here.” she said, running into a house.

I stood there, wiping tears with my shirt. “I’m Eugene.” the mullet man said. Staring awkwardly at me. “Hi.” I said back, taking a deep breath. He went to say something else before someone came out of the house with Maggie, her hands covering his eyes.

I slowly walked towards them. My heart dropped to my stomach and I swear the world stopped. Maggie used her other hand to say ‘Shhh’ to me. I could barely keep it together when she finally removed her hand from his eyes. It was Glenn.

Before he realized it was me I had already gone to hug him. Crying into his thin shirt and sinking to the street. “Oh my God.” he said in reply, coming back down with me, doing the exact same thing Maggie had done. He kissed my forehead and I felt his tears drop onto my head.

“I’m so sorry.” I cried to him. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve listened, I should’ve stayed with you.” He shook his head, sniffled and pulled away. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Y/N. I’m here. Your family is here.” He picked me up from the ground and Maggie came in to hug us again, going to kiss Glenn and wipe his tears. We all sort of exchanged ‘how on earth did you survive’ and ‘you look like shit’ before they took me walking up the street, careful not to tell me about anyone who had died, but who was here. Rick, the kids, Michonne, Carol, Sasha, some people named Tara, Rosita, Abraham, who had come with Eugene. I was in complete disbelief of an entire neighborhood that was safe.

None of them were outside, so seeing me was going to be a surprise, but they had skipped over a certain archer I was missing. While we came up to the porch that Glenn said was Rick’s, I found myself asking if Daryl was here. The couple exchanged looks. Fear took over as I assumed the worst, until Maggie took my hand and nodded. “He’s here, too. Been looking for you for weeks, actually.” My stomach was full of butterflies, even though it had been empty for weeks.

“He was looking for me?” I asked in disarray, the tears that had finally stopped were going to start all over again. My stomach dropped. He searched for Sophia everyday, all day. He never stopped and the heartbreak he has was unbearable. He was sure it was his fault she was gone, and he hadn’t looked hard enough. Glenn nodded. “Ever since,” he looked at Maggie, who looked away onto the street, his voice now lowered “ever since Beth died, he hasn’t been the same.” My heart had broken into a million little pieces. I squeezed Maggie’s hand, quickly saying I was sorry before she assured me she was going to be okay.

Another death that Daryl would blame himself for. I’m certain of that. Probably blamed himself for me running off too.

I followed the pair inside to where Rick was holding Judith on the couch. My first thought honestly was, holy shit a COUCH.

He stood up and smiled, quick to hug me with Judith propped on his hip. He kissed my cheek and brought me in close. I buried my face in his shirt, kissing Judith after. His shirt smelled of fresh laundry, a smell I hadn’t known for a long time. Rick was the most fearless man I had ever met, and I’d be dead without him. All of us would be.

“You’re here.” he broke the silence. I nodded, wiping my tears away. “Don’t know how, but I’m here.” I replied. He smiled again, looking up the stairs to Carl. He raced down them and tackled me into a hug.

“Y/N, I thought you were gone!” He exclaimed. I wanted to reply I thought I was gone too, but instead just laughed. “You couldn’t get rid of me that easy, kid.” playfully knocking his hat off his head. He laughed and flicked me back. “Daryl is not going to believe this.”

My eyes grew to the size of saucers. I was bursting at the seams. I wanted to see him more than I needed a shower at this point. I was looking out the window Rick was seated in front of when I said “Speaking of Daryl, where is he? Where’s everyone, I need to-“ The question didn’t matter anymore. There he was on the street, looking directly through the window. Almost through me. He took a few steps back, as if he was going to take off running. Like I was a ghost.

If anyone said anything to me, I couldn’t be sure. My legs carried me out the door and down the stairs, and into his strong arms. Arms I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. The ones that held me late at night when I was cold, the ones who taught me how to shoot, even shot his crossbow once, the ones I cried into when we lost the farm, the ones I took naps on during long car rides. Home. I was home.

We didn’t say anything to each other. He had dropped his crossbow in the road where he was now holding me, face snuggled into my neck. He was crying. I reached up to rub the back of his head with my hand. “Been awhile, huh?” I whispered, sarcastically, desperately trying to break the silence. He pulled away, tears hidden under his overgrown hair. “Thought I lost ya” He put his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and smiled. “Never.” I said, placing my hands on his face. His response was the same, putting his hands on mine and giving me the gentlest kiss to ever touch my lips.

Didn’t think the entire community had to watch this go down, especially since that was our first kiss, but it makes for a fun story now. We both sniffled and looked into each others eyes, his blue ones glistening with tears. “Didn’t know I had to go missing for you to kiss me like that, Daryl.” Hearing myself say his name made my heart skip a beat.

He broke eye contact and looked towards the ground. “See ya kept those boots.” he remarked. I pulled his gaze back up to meet mine.

“I thought after long enough they could bring me home.”

[oftenwantedafton]

Sticky Fingers - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Goth Female Reader

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content

Summary - You’ve had a habit of taking things that don’t belong to you since childhood. The streak of kleptomania carries you though to adulthood, where you’ve decided to alleviate the boredom of your new office job by knicking whatever catches your eye.

Completely unaware that you yourself have caught someone else’s.

Also available on AO3

It starts with a compact mirror.

Just a cheap little thing with plastic gems, something that catches your eye when you’re out shopping with your mother and she’s distracted for an agonizingly long amount of time. It fits so neatly in your palm and slips into your jacket pocket effortlessly.

The propensity to steal extends into your teenage years and then into early adulthood and your collection has grown. Costume jewelry and makeup and candy. Nothing of any significant value. Just whatever you can curl your fingers around and stow away at a moment’s notice. You’re good at avoiding suspicion, sneaking quietly away in your dark oversized hoodies, slouchy ripped jeans with deep pockets and loosely laced combat boots that have plenty of room to spare for the odd trinket.

Today you’re killing some time at a strip mall before you head into work. A pot of black lip gloss smothered in silver diamond dust winks at you from one of the shelves. Your eyes light up, mascara coated lashes lifting appreciatively. Such an easy thing to palm. No pesky security tag. Your black polished nails tuck around it securely. You add a miniature version of a fragrance that smells like cotton candy from the neighboring store. Some little skull earrings covered in cubic zirconia, easy enough to slip off the card they’re secured to. Amateur hour. Hardly any challenge. You walk away scott free.

***

You started working at the office two weeks ago.

Just a little temp job. Clerical work. Filing papers. Guiding clients to the correct social workers. Making appointments. That sort of thing.

It’s profoundly boring and you find your fingers itching for something to occupy them. You’ve always stolen from stores. Personal property wasn’t something you’d attempted yet.

And there wasn’t exactly a treasure trove of goods at your fingertips here. You’d hardly call walking away with a stapler or a pack of gum from someone’s purse tucked under the desk a triumph.

So now you’re scanning the interiors of the inside offices for anything that might catch your eye.

There’s a little rabbit figurine. White, small, rather plain. Just a humble porcelain figure. You’re not especially fond of bunnies and it’s certainly not your typical goth aesthetic. But there’s something about it. You notice it every time you lead someone back to the owner’s office. Middle aged guy. Silver in his hair and beard. Glasses. Everything a decade or so out of date. Older office equipment and technology and furniture. Clothes that have probably been in his wardrobe rotation for years. And this odd little figurine. Just sitting on one of the shelves when you walk in the room. Maybe it had sentimental value. Something from childhood. You should just leave it be. Your hands reach for it anyway when he’s distracted with a client. Cool to touch. Into the sleeve of your sweater it goes. Perfect sleight of hand. Magician’s trick. Watch me make a white rabbit disappear.

You sneak it into your mini backpack when you get back to your desk. It’s enough for today, you decide.

The afternoon is the busiest time of day. Far more people prefer to conduct business well past morning hours. Maybe other commitments keep them occupied until then. Bringing children to school. A dislike for getting ready in the early morning. You can certainly relate to the latter notion.

An inter office call startles you near the end of the shift. You’d been just about to gather your things and clock out. Many of the other office staff have left already.

You don’t recognize the voice at first. Can’t quite put a face together with it. The man is requesting a client list for tomorrow. You hardly think this is a pressing matter at this hour. And he could certainly look it up himself on the computer. But fine. You’d do it. Your last official act of the workday.

Steve Raglan. Hmmm. It was kind of familiar, now that you thought about it a little longer. The pages are warm when they exit the printer. You notice some of the text is faded. The toner cartridge needs to be replaced. You have no idea where it’s kept. It was still legible. He’d just have to make do or wait until tomorrow morning.

You make your way to the back offices. Most of the doors are closed. It’s a lot quieter now. No ringing phones or keyboard tapping or conversation.

Steve Raglan. Up ahead on the right. Oh. Yes. The guy with the rabbit. You tap your knuckles on the open door to announce your entrance. Step inside and find the space empty. After all that and the bearded man wasn’t even here. Maybe he’d gone to use the restroom. Well, not your problem anyway. You place the pages on the center of the desk blotter. Notice a nice looking pen. One of those fancy steel types. Silver. Sure, why not. A fee for services rendered. Now tucked into the waistband of your skirt.

The elevator is notoriously slow. You press the downward arrow button again as if that will make the passage any swifter. A soft chime to indicate it’s arrived. You step inside. The doors nearly slide closed before a hand interrupts them. Open once more.

It’s him. Bunny man.

You depress the button for the parking garage and tuck yourself back against the railing. The man fills the space with his presence. He’s taller than you’d realized. Not heavy, just solid. Intimidating in the confines of the elevator. You feel his eyes on you.

“I dropped off that client list you wanted. I left it on your desk. Sorry if the quality isn’t great. The printer is out of toner and I don’t know where they keep the spares. I can print it again tomorrow if you want.” You know you’re babbling. Trying to fill the awkward silence. Maybe feeling a little guilty about what you’d pilfered today. Two items from this social worker. Maybe a tad excessive.

No response. Not a nod, not a grunt, nothing. Just him watching you with those widely spaced eyes of his. Looming. The elevator settles and chimes. You’ve reached your destination.

You attempt to step out of the elevator when Raglan’s arm snaps out, blocking your path. The doors slide closed again.

“Do you know what I find so interesting? How you felt the need to take something that has absolutely no value, save sentimentality for its owner. And then added insult to injury by stealing one of my favorite fucking pens.”

Your heart drops. Oh shit. He knows.

“And then you couldn’t even do me the simple courtesy of printing out a couple of pieces of paper.”

You swallow nervously. What was the play here? Feign innocence? Just admit guilt and return the items and apologize? What did he want from you?

“What’s the real reason behind it? Looking for attention? Some teen angst bullshit you never outgrew? What’s the matter, were you not the favorite child at home? You decided to lash out by dressing in clothing that’s a cross between funeral wear and street corner attire—”

“—I was just fucking bored, okay? That’s it. There’s no deep mystery behind it.” You’re pissed. His words cut a little too deep. It’s part of his skill set as a career counselor. Intuition. A knack for seeing past the surface, the false fronts people put up. Discerning intrinsic value. God, did you feel you were fucking lacking right about now.

“Boredom. That’s the reason? Are you not given enough work to do?”

“Look, I’ll give you your stuff back, okay? Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

“Unfortunately for you, I am not the type to forgive nor forget.”

“So what, you’re going to narc on me?”

A slight smirk. You don’t think you like him wearing that gesture. “Not necessarily. Maybe I could be persuaded, just this once, to make an exception.”

Wait. Did he mean…?

“Why don’t we start by putting back what you stole, shall we?” Steve pushes the button to return to the floor of the offices. He’s made no move to step away this time, still lingering close to you.

A soft chime and hiss as the doors part. Eerily quiet. The lights have been dimmed. You notice a white rabbit’s foot on the keyring when the career counselor unlocks his office door.

There’s a slight rattle of lampshade and a soft click when he turns the light on, bathing the room in a cozy yellow glow. He tosses the keys onto the desk and removes his glasses, slipping them inside the leather eyeglass case tucked beside the keyboard. Some scattered pocket change rests nearby.

He turns to face you, lifting an eyebrow expectantly. You slip your mini backpack off your shoulders and unzip the inner compartment, withdrawing and handing him the rabbit. He returns it to the shelf it had been on originally. It looks so small in his large hands.

You start to reach for the pen still snug against your waistband. His hand clamps on your wrist, halting your progress. Lets his fingers explore, tracing to find the point of origin. Stroking along the side of your waist. The hem of your turtleneck sweater is nearly cropped and doesn’t quite cover your abdomen, a small band of flesh exposed between the bottom of your top and the waist of your leather skirt. The pen is warm from your body heat. He drags it upward slowly. You hardly dare breathe. Your face tipped up and his dipped down. Freed at last.

Raglan rests the finial against your bottom lip. Presses slightly. Your lips part. Eases the writing utensil between them. The barrel drags against your tongue. You can taste the metal. A gradual advance of the encased ink reservoir. Further still. Your heart hammers in your chest. Lips clamp down, applying suction as he withdraws it again. His breathing is loud, rapid. The metallic object drops from his fingers and lands on the carpet. His tongue replaces the void the pen has left behind.

You’d known he was about to kiss you, but it still catches you off guard. He presses against you and you stumble, colliding back against the table housing a coffee maker and corresponding supplies. The carafe rattles, packets of sugar spilling free of the bin they’re seated in. Those giant hands of his are now cupping your ass over the layers of panties and skirt. You’ve got a handful of his tie. Some ridiculous shade of purple. He’s stealing all your breath and you find yourself enjoying it, as insane as that sounds. Kissing a virtual stranger. Someone who’s old enough to be your father. And you like it.

You nip at his bottom lip. He releases your buttocks and tugs on your hair. Paints your throat with saliva. You hear a car alarm go off somewhere in the distance outside. Police siren. The office is downtown. There’s always something happening.

A hand up your skirt now. Your thigh high tights have roses embroidered on them. Calloused fingertips catch on the raised threads. You wonder what’s made them so rough. His beard is scratchy. You’ve never had a boyfriend with facial hair before. Fingers pressing at your crotch through the fabric of your panties, already damp with arousal. You feel him smile against your neck.

“Look at you. Shamelessly soaked,” he murmurs. “And why wouldn’t you be, dressed like this?” He’s inside your underwear now, scooping your fluid from your entrance and smothering your clit with it. You whimper. “You wanted to get attention and now you’ve got it, don’t you? Teasing and begging and…” His voice trails off softly, at odds with the finger he abruptly thrusts inside, eliciting a moan. “It’s going to be a tight fit, isn’t it?”

Steve works his finger in and out for a while, dragging a few more groans out of you before he adds a second. Your grip on his tie tightens. You hear some more things being dislodged from their orderly storage behind you. Catch sight of some red and blue flashing lights in your peripheral vision through the window, a response to wherever incident happened outdoors a little while ago.

“Your lips looked so good sucking my pen. I bet they’d be even more impressive wrapped around my cock.” The paired phalanges abandon your dripping pussy. He sucks them clean and then pushes on your shoulders. You take the hint and sink to your knees. A belt that looks very old with deep creases is the first barrier to your goal. Button and a zipper that catches stubbornly. Some rather lackluster briefs. What’s inside more than makes up for it.

Cut, flushed, thick and long. Stiff leather of your boots protesting against the way they’re placed, folding down over your toes. Your tongue swipes across his erection. He pushes down and guides it between your lips. Hand knotted in your hair. He’s taking charge, fucking into your mouth. Almost a gentleman at first, slow pace, shallow penetration. Letting you get accustomed to the size and feel of it. He tastes clean. You can detect a lingering scent of whatever soap he’d showered with that morning on his skin as he drags you closer to his body. Jerked away. Dragged closer. Slightly faster now. Inevitably your gag reflex protests at the intrusion. Too much saliva pooled in your mouth. The head of his cock stroking the inside of your cheek. Jabbing your throat. Making you struggle for air. Eyes pleading for mercy.

“So fucking good. I knew you would be. Swallowing that cock right down. I’d love to fill that mouth up but your cunt deserves a taste too.” He finally releases his grip in your hair and his prick slides free. Your chin is covered in spit. So is your neck. Several strands of hair are wetly clumped together. Eyes burning a little where the makeup has smudged. You’re willing to bet your features are dusted in silver glitter and smudged with streaks of charcoal.

He helps you to your feet, easily pulling you upright, then indicating for you to turn around and bend over. Skirt unzipped and moved. Panties tugged down to rest somewhere around your stocking clad knees. Your coworker fucks into you.

Your fingers reach for the table, wrapping around the edge. There is no introductory phase. He’s sunk down to the hilt. You are full. Stretched. A new ache to match your still stinging lips and sore throat.

“So fucking tight. But you’re taking me so well.”

You gasp short little pleas. For him to stop, for him to continue. You’re not sure which. A gnawing feeling deep inside. A light smack on one cheek. Fingers blanching newly reddened skin when they grip tightly. No one’s ever gotten you off this way. This vintage model of a man is going to be the first to do so. A buildup of pressure. The other hand now slapped down to grab your waist, the thrusts shuddering, sloppier, more frantic. Closer. Your pelvis shoving back to meet him. A wail of pleasure as the feeling crashes within you. A curse and a hot stream of fluid painting your insides. It leaks down over the stitched flowers and stems and thorns covering your thighs when he pulls out.

You already notice muscles protesting as you straighten up. You’re going to feel this even more tomorrow morning for certain. Steve’s already adjusted his clothing. You tug your panties back into place and zip your skirt back up. You’ll hit the restroom on the way out to finish cleaning up.

The career counselor retrieves the steel pen from the floor, tapping it against his palm before holding it out to you.

“Keep it.”

You accept the offering and it disappears, securely tucked away again.

“The toner cartridges are in the storage closet near the entrance. Middle shelf left side. I expect a new list on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.”

You nod, watching as he quickly straightens out the coffee bar and switches the desk lamp off before exiting the office and locking it once again. You’re more than a little taken aback by how casual the conversation is, considering he’d been fucking your brains out mere moments before.

“And one last thing. Keep your fucking sticky fingers to yourself. If you’re that bored, come see me. I’m sure I can find something to keep you occupied.”

Another smirk. You think you might like that little gesture after all.

[subwonwooagenda]

Do you write for non-sexual age regression? If so could you do shirabu kenjirou from haikyuu with caregivers from the shiratorizawa teem?

Little!Shirabu X Caregiver!Goshiki X Caregiver!Semi

A/N: I do indeed write for non-sexual age regression, feel free to ask! This kinda turned into a shirabu x goshiki x semi instead of the whole team 😅 so so sorry. This little oneshot is being written on my phone, I lost the charger to my laptop so bear with me on any mistakes or weird formatting, thank you for requesting and I hope you like it!

Warnings: Slight angst

Characters: Little!Shirabu, Daddy!Semi, Papa!Goshiki

Shirabu had never been more mad at himself.

He internally said every bad word in his mind as he knelt on the gyms bathroom floor, tearing apart his backpack trying to locate his emergency paci and blanket. He bit back his whimpers as he tried to see past the tears welding up in his eyes as he finally gave up, guessing they were still at home, and sat back against the stall, letting the tears fall.

He would never say it outloud but he has had a shitty day. On top of being late to school, missing morning practice then not being able to toss up a single good set, all the stress and anger from the day finally crashed on him during their afternoon practice. That’s how he found himself sitting on the bathroom floor after he made a quick excuse about his stomach bothering him. Now he just wanted forehead kisses and cuddles with his favorite people.

He shakily reached for his phone, pulling up his group chat with his Daddy and Papa, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up in his their arms, free of the stress of the day. He was still old enough to be able to type out semi-sentences seeing as his regression never really goes lower than 6

Bu-Bear🐻: Daddy?

He wiped his runny nose on his jumper sleeve, smiling to himself slightly as he tried to envision the chaos that would come once his trusty caregivers realized their precious boy was in little space alone away from them.

Daddy Semi🤴🏼: Kenji? Baby what’s wrong??

Papa Shiki💇🏻: BU-BEAR?! ARE UOU OKDY?!

He giggled softly at his papas texts, misspelled due to his silly worrying.

Bu-Bear🐻: mm ‘kay. In gym bafroom, ddnt mean to but slipped..

He rubbed his nose again, wincing at the slight sting as his ears picked up the quick footfalls, he instantly knew who they were, not even bothering to contain himself as he crawled out of the stall he was hiding in.

Semi and Goshiki realized they probably frightened their teammates as they stood and ran off toward the bathroom, ignoring Tendo’s calls of ‘where’s the fire?’

Goshiki reached Shirabu first, instantly picking him up and setting him in his lap, his arms holding him close in a protective manor. Shriabu latched his hand onto his shirt, clutching tightly as he let more tears fall, nuzzling his nose into Goshikis neck as Semi rubbed a large warm hand over his back.

After a bit of silence, simply holding the boy as he cried, Semi finally spoke up, “Are you gonna tell us what happened, little dove?” He spike softly, his deep voice breaking Shirabu out of his mini cry session. He adjusted himself as he turned in Goshikis lap, looking at his Daddy with his red puffy eyes.

“I swipped and don’t know where fwoppy or dinki is..” he mumbled to them, Goshiki pressing soft kisses to his head to keep him calm. Semi mumbled a small curse, knowing how bad this drop was seeing as he had none of his helpful items. No Floppy the stuffed rabbit or Dinki the pacifier proved to be a rough slip for Shirabu.

“Aww our poor little boy. Daddy’s so sorry, pumpkin. I bet you miss them, huh?” He said, gently cupping one of Shirabu’s tear stained cheeks as he nodded.

“Well we can’t go get them but how about we get you cleaned up, go tell your uncles what happened and we will take you out for a treat for being such a brave boy?” Goshiki said, rubbing Shirabu’s tummy under his shirt, the odd little movement always did wonders to calm him down.

The little nodded his head, knowing his daddy and papa would look after him, putting all his trust into them to make his decisions for him. “Please..” he mumbled, whining softly as Goshiki stood with him, Semi grabbing his things behind them.

He gave a small smile as they stepped back into the gym, coming face to face with the rest of their worried team. Hell even Ushijima stood with a worried look on his usually stoic face. He was lost in playing with the bottom strands of his papas hair as he and his daddy explained to the rest of the team about what happened.

He zoned back in as he was set on the ground, his Papa helping him gather his stuff before he laced their fingers together, leading him out to the rest of their team that was waiting outside. Semi grabbed his free hand, pressing a kiss to his cheek, the whole team smiling at the sound of his now happy giggles as their hands swung.

Shirabu knew then that even without his safety items, he was going to be a-okay. Here In the middle of his daddy and papa, with his precious uncles beside them lightening the mood for them, he was in the safest place his little self could be.

[bugsbunnyblogsstuff]

(Jessica Rabbit's Pov)

The next day, I stretched and poured myself a bittersweet cold brew.

I had already gotten myself ready for the day, and Roger had already left for work and was now hoping for my entries to arrive.

I fetched myself the newsletter, with another rescue by Peter Parker on the front, and Acme dynamite profit loss.

There is nothing to be terribly concerning, except when you get to the first page, I softly gasped.

"Cartoons who have been abandoned by their creators and peers have started underground cult, that takes down the more popular ones and kidnaps supernaturals to help with their summonings...." I read aloud, tracing my finger on one of the first to go.

He was a lanky teen. He had a satchel full of books and had a well-dressed suit. He had a mug-like head and a rather large nose. Everything else was marked out.

"Call local Toontown police for any sightings of this boy or members of the group, at 555-505-5505" I read, a slight tear dripping down my chin.

.....

I wiped it away, trying to think about my entries.

My doorbell rang as I whipped my head around, immediately hiding the newsletter, as I answered the door.

A skinny black duck with a yellow backpack on himself, a boy who i couldn't really see due to him was strapped to the backpack, the duck had a white ripped crop top and large baggy jeans, stood out my door.

"Yo, daffy duck here...." he said, walking in without shaking my hand, the *nerve* of that duck.

Beside him was a pudgy pink pig who was wearing a crisp blue blazer and a red bow tie, who had a peculiar stuttering problem. "Sorry a-about him, m-miss," the pig replied as he shook my hand and walked in.

I watched daffy lay out the boy, on my velvet couch, unwrapping bandages from his body and turning towards me, "Do you mind? Also, whatever you're thinking right now, this is far from any ordinary backpack, it's designer, " he said.

"So, umm.... have you guys come for the contest?" I asked, clasping my gloved hands together.

The trio nodded as I sighed in relief as I sat down beside them, getting comfortable on the chić velvety couch.

"So, in order for us to win as a group, until we find bugs, we must be able to  do best performance. In the practice movie of our choice, I have chosen Carrotblanca for us since it was the easiest."  I excitedly explained. As daffy whispered into his friends ears, I waited expectantly.

"I g-guess, b-but h-how do we m-make a movie by s-scratch?" Porky asked as he shyly fiddled with his slimy palms.

"Well, elementary, dear Porky, we'll have all of our supplies set for us, like if we need extra cast members or a couple more hours to work, they'll provide it for us...."  I excitedly said, leaning closer to Porky

The boy slowly sat up, propping himself on the cushions, trying to cover his hands, but soon, a bullet was sent flying into my 100-pound, golden stained glass chandelier.

It broke the chandelier, and the support beam broke, snapping in half, causing me to panic, I ducked, and it crashed, I looked up, and I was protected by a clear force-field.

I looked at the boy, who was glitching as he continued to strengthen the force field.

Daffy grinned, "he's like a mini bodyguard. He's kinda awesome....." he said as the force field disappeared, and the chandelier was fixed.

I softly smiled, going back to my talk on our movie.

"As I was saying, each of you need a role, daffy can be.... a pianist? Porky can be a private eye, and you could be a seductress....?" I said, thinking of random roles on a whim....

Porky excitedly nodded, writing this all down in his beige notebook that had tapes and stickers on it.

The trio and I would have a lot to work on, but it's not everyday your faced with a real supernatural, a cute duck, and a shy pig.

[zohra002]

[sergeantsporks]

Full Circle

Rating: Teen, Gen

Part 17 of Camila is Hunter's Mom Now

Chapter 1/4: Family Reunion

Hunter never planned to tell his friends about his past.

But since when has anything ever gone the way he planned?

Ao3

Drowning

Falling

Dark

Cold

Hunter’s coven sigil burned like a wildfire, piercing through the darkness with a beacon of light. It glowed on his wrist like a mini sun, shooting rays outwards.

Mine.

Mine, mine, mine.

It burned, like it had when he’d first gotten it, but the burning didn’t stop, it consumed his skin, his flesh, burning away his bone until—

Beep

Beep

Beep

Hunter rolled over in bed, smacking the alarm clock and then peering at the coven patch on his arm.

No glowing. He scratched at it absentmindedly, getting changed for school and then gently shook Vee’s shoulder. “Time to wake up.”

“No,” she grumbled, “Go ‘way.”

Hunter grabbed the blanket underneath her, bundling her up, then dumped her on the floor.

“Hey!”

“We’re gonna be late.”

Hunter scratched at his patch again—why was it so itchy today—and went downstairs, catching Camila just as she went out the door. “Have a good day at work!”

“Thanks, mijo.” She kissed the top of his head, sending a warm glow pulsing through him. “You have a good day at school.”

“Where’s Luz?” Her bunk had been suspiciously empty when he’d gone to bed last night, and if she’d gotten home after, then she’d left before she woke up.

“Apparently Amity’s parents have locked her up in her room. Luz is going to rescue her, isn’t that sweet?”

“Huh. Yeah.” Hunter kept scratching at his sigil as he wandered into the kitchen, scarfing down a bowl of cereal. Vee thumped down the stairs, grumbling, and got her own bowl of cereal.

“Hey.”

“Mrgh.”

“Do you have drama practice today?”

“Yep.” Vee stretched her hand out, resting it on Hunter’s and quelling his scratching. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just… itchy. It’s probably fine, had a weird dream about it. It’s probably… just… in… my…” A chill ran down Hunter’s spine, and he ran for the calendar. “What day is it?!”

“Oh—I don’t know—Hunter—”

Hunter gripped the counter, blood roaring in his ears. “It’s today,” he whispered.

“What? What’s today?”

“The day of—” Hunter swallowed. “The day of unity. It was supposed to be t—” his fingers curled, and he leaned his head against the wall.

“Hey.” Vee came up next to him, pressing her shoulder to his. “Belos doesn’t have titan’s blood. He doesn’t have you. Whatever his day of unity plans are… they’re shot. Done. Finished. Even if they weren’t, Luz would stop him.” She put her hand over his. “Do you need to stay home today?”

He can’t carry out his plans.

It’s impossible, we took the key from him.

Hunter took a deep breath, slowly uncurling his fingers. “No. No, I’m okay. Let’s go.”

The day of unity can’t happen.

Hunter tucked Flapjack into his school bag, still scratching at his sigil through his hoodie. Vee grabbed her own backpack, and Hunter locked the door behind them.

Xxx

Camila ran up the path to the old abandoned house. Usually she would have waited for the kids to go before leaving herself, but…

She glanced again at her phone as she stood on the porch.

Portal House Motion Detected.

Camila took out her pepper spray, slowly opening the door.

No portal. Camila walked a circle around the area, examining the motion detectors.

“What… set… you…”

She heard a rustle in the corner and whirled around to face it, holding her pepper spray out.

It was pointed at a rabbit, which squeaked when it saw her, then bounded away. Camila let out a sigh of relief, picking up the motion detectors. “Man. Guess I need to reset the sensitivity on these things, huh?”

Xxx

Thomas grabbed Hunter’s arms as he came in the school doors, staring him in the eyes. “I have. A huge problem.”

“What? Did someone toss your whole backpack on the school roof this time? I can’t climb up, my arm is still all kinds of weak from—”

“No, no, not that kind of problem. Plus, dude, last time you broke your arm, I really, really, really don’t want you climbing on the roof for my stuff again. Anyway, so, the problem is, my parents are going to be out of town. My aunt is pregnant, and they’re going to go help her with the kids while she’s giving birth and stuff, but you know, it’s the middle of the school year, so I can’t just go with them.”

“Ooookay?”

“They’re leaving me with my brother,” Thomas groaned, “I’d be better off by myself!”

“Can’t argue there,” Vee agreed, “So, what, you wanna come over to our house or something?”

“Please? Even just for a couple of days, I just don’t want to be alone with him for a whole week, I’ll go insane.”

Jade leaned one elbow on Thomas’ shoulder, coming up from the hallway. “Trying to find someone to adopt you for the week?”

Thomas heaved a sigh. “Yeah.”

“Ah, I’ll ask my parents. They might let you stay over for a few days.”

“Thanks, Jade,” Thomas mumbled gloomily, trudging with Hunter towards the chemistry classroom, “Man, you are so lucky.”

“Yes, because my siblings are the peak of normality,” Hunter remarked as they sat down.

“Yeah, but you’re equally weird.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“In a good way, dude. Not… whatever my brother’s got going on.” Thomas sighed. “He’s just… so convinced he’s right, you know? And he won’t let it go!”

Well. He’s actually not completely wrong about there being witches.

“I don’t know, I guess I wish he’d just quit clinging to this whole…” Thomas waved his hands. “…thing… so tightly. Or at the least leave people alone instead of harassing them. He was actually fun to hang out with at one point. Now he’s just… obsessed.” Thomas polished his glasses. “Sorry. Shouldn’t dump all of that on you.”

Hunter’s nose crinkled. “You kept the fact that I broke my arm and stole my mom’s deer tranquilizer secret, I think it’s fair to dump a few frustrations.”

“Ha. Yeah, okay, when you put it like that.”

The bell rang, and Hunter turned his attention on their teacher, still scratching at his sigil.

Ugh.

Hunter glanced around the class, then pulled his sleeve up just enough to check on the sigil.

No glowing. Just angry red around the area from all of the scratching. Hunter tucked both of his hands in his lap to keep himself from scratching it more, chewing the inside of his lip.

It’s just in your head.

Just like that, the itching stopped.

Huh.

English.

Math.

Physics.

The intercom crackled on with a screech that made everyone cover their ears. “Hunter, please come to the front office.”

“Ooooooo,” Jade whispered, nudging him with a grin, “What’s up?”

Hunter shuddered. For a second, the voice had sounded like… but that was ridiculous. “I don’t know,” he whispered back, getting up and trudging through the hallways. He couldn’t think of any reason they’d be calling him up. He hadn’t gotten in any trouble. He hadn’t done anything particularly good either. Maybe Vee had gotten sick?

“Hi?” he ventured, putting his hands on the front desk, “You—”

The smell hit him just before the sight did.

Like rotting flesh, and decay.

The receptionist was slumped over her desk (a sleep spell? Or something more sinister?), and Belos was leaning against the table, dressed in clothes that looked like they’d been taken straight out of Jacob’s museum.

Hunter jerked backwards with a squeak, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might break his ribs. “Y-you can’t—”

“And here I thought you’d be pleased to see me.”

Hunter fumbled for his hoodie pocket, for Flapjack, but the familiar lump wasn’t there—put it in my backpack. He managed to grab his phone, but Belos lashed out, knocking the device from his hands.

“Let’s not.”

Hunter backed up, beelining for the door.

This isn’t happening, this is not happening, wake up, wake up, wake up!

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Belos reached to the side, yanking over…

“Hunter?”

Belos put one arm around Thomas, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Come now, Hunter. Why don’t you come along and you can introduce me to your new friend?”

Hunter’s legs wobbled, and he nearly fell on the spot. Thomas was trembling, staring at Hunter with wide, terrified eyes. Hunter’s hand went to his own shoulder. He knew that uncomfortably tight grip.

He has Thomas.

He’ll hurt him if I don’t, if I…

I can’t let him get hurt, not because of me, not again.

“Okay,” he managed in a strangled whisper while his mind screamed RUN! RUN WHILE YOU STILL CAN!, “Okay, I’m coming.”

Xxx

“Luz, slow down,” Amity called, “We took out the coven heads, we stopped the day of unity. It’s over.”

Luz shook her head, her feet pounding on the stone floor of the Titan’s skull. “We have to find him, he can’t get away! He’ll just start plotting again, or—or—I don’t know, activate some backup plan!” She skidded to a halt in the stonesleeper room, the portal door in pieces. “Where is he?!”

She paced around, looking for a footprint, anything that would tell her where Phillip had gone. “He can’t have opened the door, he didn’t have… any… titan’s…” She spotted a single brown glove on the floor, and she scooped it up. Part of it was ripped away, but she could still recognize it.

“Luz?” Willow asked softly, coming up behind her, “What is it?”

Luz’s hands trembled, clutching the glove tightly. “It’s Hunter’s,” she said in a strangled whisper.

“What?! But how would he be here? He’s in the human realm with your mom, right?!”

“Belos took—he was worried about—but we thought it would be okay, we thought Belos wouldn’t use it without a way to get back, we—” Luz’s legs wobbled and gave back, sending her crashing to her knees. “We told him it would be okay,” she whispered.

Amity knelt down next to her. “What is it?!”

“It had titan’s blood on it,” Kikimora’s voice echoed from the side. She glared at them from the corner, rubbing her wrist. “Belos confiscated it from him when he ran away. He used the titan’s blood to activate the portal and then… disappeared.”

“We said it would be okay, we told him not to worry!” Luz burst out, “We thought—I thought—but now he’s there, he’s in the human realm, and—and—I have to warn Hunter!” She bounded to her feet. “Amity, we have to fly there as fast as we can—or maybe Eda can—we have to get there!”

Amity steadied her. “Luz, don’t you have the key? Can’t you just summon our door?”

“No, I left it behind at your house because I didn’t want Belos to be able to get it from me when we came here! I didn’t think about—” Luz ran a hand through her hair. “Let’s go!”

Before we’re too late.

Xxx

“Oh, hey, can you take Hunter’s stuff home for him?”

Vee blinked at Jade. “What?”

“He got called down to the office, he never came back for his stuff. I put his bag in his locker, I just assumed he had to go to a doctor’s appointment or something.”

“Not that I know of.” Vee shrugged. “He wasn’t feeling well earlier. Maybe he went home sick.” Bit off more than he could chew, I guess. At least he went home. Not like him to leave his stuff, though.

She followed Jade to his locker, frowning as she heard a banging from inside. “That’s weird, what—”

Jade shook her head, frowning. “I don’t know.” She opened the locker, immediately jumping back, and a bullet of red feathers shot out, twittering and shrieking.

Vee caught the tiny palisman, cupping it gently in her hands. “Flapjack?!”

“How did a living cardinal-?” Jade yelped.

Vee’s heart sank down to her feet. “Something’s wrong,” she whispered. No matter how anxious he was feeling, there was no way Hunter would leave Flapjack behind. She set Flapjack on her shoulder. “I gotta get home. I gotta—I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”

She bolted for the door, dashing across campus and across the street, not even waiting for the walk signal. It wasn’t until she was halfway home that she realized Jade was on her heels. “Jade, go to drama, go—”

“Is Hunter in trouble?”

“Yes—Maybe—I don’t know, but you should go back.”

Jade shook her head, following Vee all the way back to her house. Vee slammed the door open. “HUNTER?!” she yelled, “HUNTER, ARE YOU HOME?! LUZ?!” She tore through the house, checking every room. “HUNTER?!”

“Oh, hi, Ms. Noceda,” she heard Jade saying from downstairs, “You didn’t happen to pick Hunter up from school early, did you?”

Vee tore down the stairs. “Hunter’s missing,” she said in a rush. Flapjack was frantically chirping as well, as if trying to reiterate the point, “He left—when did he leave?!”

“They called him down to the office at the beginning of fourth.”

“And he never came back, and he’s not here, Mom, and he left Flapjack, and—”

“Left Flapjack?” Jade echoed.

Camila nodded, her jaw set in a steel line. “I’m going to check the old house. Vee, stay here in case he comes back. Jade, could you call the shelter, just in case he went there?”

“On it.”

Camila put a hand on Vee’s shoulder. “We’re going to find him,” she promised.

And then she was out the door.

Jade went to the other room, talking for a minute, thanking the person on the other end of the line, then coming back, shaking her head. “He’s not there.”

“Yeah,” Vee said softly, “I figured.”

Jade rubbed her arms. “Vee?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s his uncle, isn’t it.”

The mention made a chill run down Vee’s spine. “We—we don’t know that. I—” How do I explain that there isn’t really much of a way for him to get here because he’s trapped in another dimension?

“But… it might be?”

If today’s the day of unity… it would have been today if any day.

“Yeah,” Vee replied softly, tugging on her hoodie, “It might be.”

Xxx

Camila raced up the path.

Hunter’s missing, Hunter’s missing, Hunter’s missing.

What if the motion detected this morning had been…?

No. No, that was… she’d been there almost immediately after the alarm had gone off.

But still…

Camila slammed the door open.

No portal.

Nothing had been disturbed with the motion detectors.

“Hunter?” she called, pushing further in, “Hunter, mijo, are you in here?”

She heard a thump, and she creaked her way up the stairs, pushing open doors. “Hunter?”

Nothing.

Camila went back down the stairs, heading back towards her house.

Please have come home.

But she knew that he hadn’t. “Anything?” she asked the two girls.

They shook their heads.

“Okay. Jade, thank you, but I think you should go home now. I’ll let you know if we find him.”

Jade shook her head. “I want to help. He’s my friend, and if he’s in danger, or—I want to help him. Even if it’s his uncle. Especially if it’s his uncle.”

“Jade, I appreciate it, I do, but there’s just… it’s complicated.”

Jade’s fists clenched. “I know there’s something weird about Hunter,” she announced.

“What?”

“I know…” Jade ran a hand through her hair, getting it stuck and clutching her curls. “I’m not stupid, okay?! I know… I know he’s not normal. I know he’s not actually from New York. I know he’s got a weird tattoo on his arm, I saw it when he was washing the dog. I know that when I put his bag in his locker, there was probably a wooden cardinal that Thomas has seen poking out before, and when I got back in the afternoon, there was a live cardinal in his locker, and I don’t—I can’t even START to explain that one without thinking maybe I’ve gone bannanas, but I know the two are connected, and—he doesn’t even look normal, I’ve never met anyone with those ears or that eye color!”

She looked up at Camila with big brown eyes. “I’m not… I notice all of that, I see it, and I’m purposely ignoring it, I’m not putting it together because I know he doesn’t want to talk about it, but I know there’s something off about him, okay? So whatever it is about this disappearance that you think is going to scare me off… it won’t. I want to help. Please let me help.”

Camila sighed. “Oh, Jade, I…”

She was saved from having to think of an answer by a knock on the door. She almost immediately threw it open.

“Hunter?!”

“Uh—nope.” Jacob Hopkins winced. “Uh… hello again.”

“YOU!” Camila reached into her purse for her shoe. “It was you wasn’t it?! If you’ve hurt one hair on Hunter’s head—”

“Wha- What?! Calm down, I’m not here to—look, I just wanted to ask if Thomas was here.”

“What?”

“Guess not.” Jacob sighed. “He wasn’t there when I went to pick him up, and I know he wasn’t ecstatic about spending the week with me, so I figured I’d check with his friend, see if he decided to have a sleepover without telling me, but, uh… he’s obviously not here.” He blinked. “Wait, did something happen to his buddy?”

“Thomas is missing?” Camila echoed.

“Huh. Maaaaaybeeeee they’re just playing hooky?”

“Hunter wouldn’t.”

Jacob drooped. “Yeah, Thomas wouldn’t either. If your freak kid has hurt my little brother—”

“My children aren’t freaks,” Camila snapped, “and Hunter would never hurt Thomas.” Well. Not again. I think. She groaned. “I guess… ugh. Look, if—when we find him—”

Jacob pointed behind her. “Mayyyyyybe he went through there? Just a thought.”

Camila whirled around to see Luz’s portal door opening up. Jade was staring at it, jaw practically dropped to the ground.

“Okay,” Hunter’s friend squeaked, “So the cardinal in the locker theory is no longer looking so bananas.”

Luz stumbled through the portal. “Mom!”

“Mija! Mija, we—”

“Mom, where’s Hunter? Something just…” Luz searched her face, eyes flicking back and forth. “Oh. Oh no. No, no, no! I’m too late.”

“Luz. Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s Belos, Mom. He got through, he used Hunter’s glove, I don’t think he was ever planning on going back to the Isles. He’s here.”

Camila sagged, struggling to breathe. “And he has Hunter and Thomas,” she whispered.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Milk

A/n: This was not requested but I hope you feel better piper <3 I love you! This is for you :) (This is not thoroughly edited like always)

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ @leggomylino​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @skzwriternet​

Warnings: just fluffy shy seungmin

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: After moving into a apartment building, Y/n finds a new friend in the stray cat in the alley behind her. She doesn’t realize someone has been admiring her kindness to the animal from afar. Sometimes a small act of kindness leads to a happiness that can last a life time. 

Genre: fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, neighbor!au, fem reader

⋇

Living in a tiny rundown apartment building was not my first choice. Nor was it my second or third or fourth or fifth or two hundredth. But being a struggling student living on my own for the first time didn’t leave me with many other options. The room was cheap and had all the amenities I needed. There was a bus line to the college only a short walk away. An added bonus was the fried chicken place just a few blocks away from the building. 

But, the heating often cut out. My landlord was less than kind. The couple living above me procreated like rabbits and the ceiling did nothing to muffle the noise. The neighbors next door were quiet for the most part. I had yet to meet the tenants in the rooms on either side. 

With the spring semester just around the corner, students flocked to the class registers. Spots filled up quickly leaving me with early morning classes. What a bummer. I was not the biggest morning person. I preferred to stay up at night and sleep until I physically couldn't anymore. 

Sleepily pulling my shoes on, I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door. The sun had just risen and a still orange pink glow was cast over the small cramped street. A small sound had me turning my head towards the alley next to my apartment building. 

Having a few minutes to spare before my bus arrived, I peeked around the corner searching for the sound. Just as I was about to turn around, a cat peeked its head out from behind the building’s dumpster. It slinked around the metal container, its thin body shifting from side to side as it walked. 

“Hi, there little guy!”

Slowly and carefully I approached the stray. It had spotted gray and white fur practically clinging onto its bones. It watched me with fear in its dull blue eyes. The small creature flinched as I reached out my hand for it to smell. It eyed me for a few moments before backing away and hiding under the dumpster. 

“Okay bud...that’s okay. When I come back I’ll bring you a little treat!”

As I was walking away, a sound from above made me jump. Looking up I saw a window on my story close, long slender fingers pulling it in. Thinking nothing of it I turned around and made my way to the bus stop. In my mind I made a mental note to pick something up to give to the little cat in the alley. 

⋇

The shop bell rang as I exited the establishment. It was already beginning to get dark and the streetlights were casting a yellow golden glow in circles on the cramped street. Plastic bag in hand I walked back towards home, the scent of fresh fried chicken floating up to my nose. 

As I approached the building instead of going in I walked passed and turned down into the alley. The street lamp cast a small glow allowing me to see through some of the dark shadows. 

“Here kitty kitty! Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Hearing a can roll across the pavement I saw the thin feline emerge from under the trash container. Its ears twitched and its nose rose in the air smelling the fried food I carried. Crouching to its level I stayed in the lightest part of the alley and pulled out a piece of the fried chicken I had picked up only a few minutes ago. 

Intriguided by the food, the cat slowly inched its way to the oustretched snack. It sniffed the chicken before it’s pale pink nose brushed over my finger taking in my scent. Staying perfectly still I let it nibble on the chicken for a moment. “You’re too cute.” Seeing the cat begin to struggle with the food, I pulled it back and starting tearing it into pieces for him. 

“What should I call you little guy?” 

The cat’s fear of me seemed to have disappeared as he snacked on the chicken. Hesitantly, I reached out and stroked his head only receiving a tiny flinch from the animal. “You’re quite small aren’t you?” The cat continued to eat the chicken with vigor. Grabbing a bottle of water and a paper plate from the restaurant, I poured some for the cat to drink. “How about Makki?” 

The gray cat already looked much happier than when I had first seen him this morning. As I reached out to stroke his fur, he did not flinch away. “Do you like chicken Makki?” He let out a gravely meow before turning back to his grand meal. 

My fingers felt the grooves of his ribs as I pet his side. I smiled feeling Makki’s rough tongue over my other hand. My attention was dragged away from the cat when I heard the scuff of a shoe not far away. At the entrance of the alley looked a boy maybe my age. His body faced the building but his eyes stayed trained on me over the black mask he wore. 

His shaggy brown hair had a golden glint under the street light. His hands were tucked firmly in his jean pockets giving him a cold sort of look. Lifting my hand from Makki’s back I shyly waved to the boy. As if he came out of a trance, the boy walked away from the alley on his resumed path. 

Choosing to ignore the awkward encounter (I admit that it would be weird to see a girl just sitting in an alley with a cat), I watched Makki finish off the pieces I tore. He rubbed up against my legs and let me scratched his ears. 

“Okay, Makki! I’ve got an essay to write. I’ll bring you some breakfast tomorrow, okay buddy?” With a sad meow, he tried to follow me out of the alley but sat at the entrance and watched me walk into the building.  I watched him list his head from the alley and gave him a little wave goodbye before going in for the night.

⋇

After a few months of taking care of him, Makki was basically my own. Every morning and every night without fail I would stop by and spend time with Makki. When I could afford it, I brought him chicken. He seemed to always love that. 

As finals inched closer, I couldn’t see him as much as I wanted to. Studying took up most of my nights and I was forced inside my tiny apartment, headphones only half blocking out the noise from the faulty pipes and my upstairs neighbors. 

One night I glanced over at the clock seeing it was only 10:00 pm. “I have some left overs I’m sure Makki would like.” Aware that I needed a break, I got up and stretched before heating up some leftover dinner for my little cat. Slowly he had gotten to a healthy size and I could no longer see his ribs under his spotted gray and white coat. I didn’t have to keep feeding him, but Makki seemed like my only friend as of late. 

Grabbing a bowl and filling it with water I ventured downstairs and into the lobby. A slightly familiar face was entering the building doors, keys in hand. He looked up, our eyes meeting. Those dark, almost black, eyes looked familiar, reminding me of a puppy. The brunette’s eyes widened in recognition seeing me. The boy from the street. He had a handsome face, the light locks highlighting the angles and tone of his features. In all honesty he was more than likely the most handsome man I had ever seen. 

He looked me up and down before his soft eyes fell onto the dishes in my hand. When his eyes returned he gave me a small smile and a hesitant wave. Without another word he walked past me up the stairs. 

Using my shoulder to open the door, the cool spring night air greeted me. My shoes scraped against the downhill pavement as I turned the corner into the alley. To my surprise, Makki sat in the middle of the backstreet, drinking from a saucer full of milk. Beside the bowl was a plate with little pieces of fried food. Inching closer, I saw it was fish. 

Someone had already fed him.

“Hey, buddy!” Makki greeted me with a friendly meow brushing up against my legs. “Looks like someone already fed you, huh?” I asked in confusion. No one had ever shown interest in him before. Why had they started to take care of Makki now?

Pursing my lips, I set down the dishes and watched Makki eat and drink, petting him occasionally. “Their supper is a little but better than mine, huh?” He only responded my digging in more to the fish. “I’ll bring you chicken next time, Makki.” I watched him eat the food before the slender cat climbed into my lap, begging for me to pet him. 

It was getting late and Makki was practically falling asleep in my lap. I had already asked my landlord if I could bring him inside, but Mr. Kwon hated pets. Carefully putting Makki on the makeshift bed I had made him out of a thrown out chair, I brushed myself off before looking at the mostly clean dishes on the ground. 

Logically, whoever fed Makki would have to come back for the dishes. Finding a semi clean piece of paper and grabbing the pen in my pocket I wrote a little note to the kind soul who helped out my little cat. ‘Thank you for taking care of Makki! It means a lot. - Apt.306B’. Placing the note in the dry milk saucer, I left the alley to go back to my essay. 

⋇

For the next few nights every time I went down to fed Makki, a bowl of milk and usually a small plate of food was already there. Curiosity eating me up, I decided to catch Makki’s mystery feeder. 

The next night, forgoing my term paper, I parked myself at my window overlooking the alley. Finally the sun went down and I watched from my slightly air conditioned perch for the kind soul feeding my feline child. Just as I was losing hope a head of light brown hair rounded the corned into the back alley, a bowl of milk in hand. 

“I GOT HIM! YES!” I cheered. “I got you! I got you!” I sang dancing around. Rushing out the door, I took the stairs two at a time just to burst out the lobby doors onto the street. Out of breath but with a smile I rounded the corner, hand holding me steady on the brick wall of the building. 

“So it was you!” I said happily, scaring the boy crouched down next to Makki. Those same dark puppy like eyes looked up at me in surprise. He seemed at a loss for words, frozen, long slender fingers over over the cat’s head. “I never would have guessed! I mean that day in the lobby, maybe, but it just didn’t cross my mind.” 

The boy continued to stare at me, less in shock now, but the expression I could not decipher. “Um...I’m from apartment 306.” I smiled seeing Maki next to the boy drinking the white treat. Giving him a kind smile, I reached out my hand for him to shake. 

Shyly, he took my hand and shook it. “Yeah...I know.” Under the yellow glow of the street light I looked over his handsome features once more. “I’m...uh...I’m 304.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. After all this time, this was how I met my next door neighbor. “Finally I get to meet you. I’ve been wondering who was living next door.” The boy seemed to relax, letting out a small laugh. “What’s your name?” 

He seemed surprised as I moved to sit down next to him. Makki climbed into my lap and on instinct I started scratching his ears. “Seungmin, Kim Seungmin. And you?”

“Y/n L/n.” 

I laughed as he awkwardly moved to shake my hand again. “He’s really a good cat.” Seungmin said petting Makki’s gray fur. I nodded and turned to see Seungmin already looking at me. 

“Why did you start feeding him by the way?”

The handsome boy shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “This is going to sound way creepy. I swear it was a coincidence.” Urging him to continue with a smile, I continued stroking Makki’s head. Occasionally my arm brushed up against Seungmin’s as it moved. “I actually saw you from my window. Then we ran into each other on the street that night.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question Seungmin.” I would be lying if I said that his smile didn’t make my heart skip a beat. It melted even more seeing him pet the almost sleeping cat in my lap.

“Yeah about that.” His long finger reached up and scratched his brow before returning to Makki’s ears. “That night I just thought you were really, really pretty. I liked seeing how kind you were to the cat and watching you play with him.” His hand accidentally brushed mine and his cheeks reddened. They darkened even more when I didn’t pull away.

“Go on,”

“One day you stopped coming. I figured something came up because you cared about the cat so much. So, I just tried feeding him. I got scratched more than a few times in the beginning.” Seungmin laughed, instinctively rubbing his arms where Makki must have nicked him. “Eventually he warmed up to me and I saw why you loved him so much. Then you left me that note. It was by far the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Well you certainly are not what I expected to find when I wanted to search for Makki’s secret milk source.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever bought so much milk.”

The two of us laughed and continued to sit and talk in the alleyway. “Thank you again, for feeding him while I had term stuff.” Seungmin shrugged and looked over at me. 

“It was nothing.” It was hard to stifle the laugh at his attempt of being nonchalant. “You know, I could talk to Mr. Kwon about letting you bring Makki into the building...” 

My eyes widened and I instinctively hugged my cat to my chest. “Really! You would do that? Wait- how would you even do that. That man has zero soul. Like no soul at all. Completely soulless.”

He chuckled at my joke, brown hair blowing gently in the night breeze. “I have my ways. If I do...would you do something for me?” His bright smile lit up the night watching me nod excitedly. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”

Seungmin seemed to hold his breath waiting for my answer. “Are you asking me or are you saying that is your condition for talking to Mr. Kwon?” Seungming squinted his eyes and looked off into the distance for a moment in thought.

“Oh.....you’re right.......You will have dinner with me tomorrow.”

“Woah, slow down there, buddy. I barely know you!” 

“Arrrrghhh,” Seungmin groaned covering his face and lying on the cement in frustration. I couldn’t help but laugh at his vexation. “Why is asking you out so hard?”

“I’m just teasing. Of course I’ll get dinner with you.” With a sigh of relief, Seungmin sat up with a smile. “With a face like that who spends that much milk money on someone else’s cat, how could I not want to go out with you?” Seungmin helped me up from the ground, holding onto my hand even when I was standing. 

“Good. Cause I was very nervous you’d say no.”

“Look at me. I’ve fallen for the milk man,” Seungmin groaned at my terrible joke but kept out hands intertwined as we walked back into the building with Makki under my arm. I had never been filled with more joy than in that moment. 

⋇

Masterlist

[liv-laugh-die]

||Admiring|| 💖Miya Osamu x Gn!reader

trope: strangers meeting in the park (ik its random bear with me😭)

warnings: its not proofread all the way through (im sorry im tired), so theres probably grammatical errors or typos but other than that none

genre: fluff pretty much just sappy stuff

pairing/s: osamu x gn!reader

wc: about 2.5k

a/n: oh my god idk where i came up with this but i think its cute so :p i hope you enjoy!!

You stared at your blank computer screen, hope of finishing your assignment before its due date at midnight slowly vanishing. 

     The clock on your desk read 11:27pm, the green lines wavering in your vision as your eyes slowly drooped, trying to drag you into the depths of slumber. You wanted to sleep, you really did, but you knew there was no way you could give up writing your essay, even now, knowing you weren’t going to submit it on time, because you would stress too much about it if you didn’t at least try to complete it before the due date. 

     Pushing yourself away from your desk, your chair squeaking against the floor ever so slightly in your dead silent dorm room, you tried to think of some excuse that your professor might believe. You doubted there was anything you could think of, but hey, your professor was better than what your roommates’ had mentioned theirs being, and you were grateful for that. Maybe you could tell him that you were exhausted from working extra hours at your job since you had had to cover your coworker’s shift and that’s why you couldn’t complete your essay on time? Or, maybe you could get away with a simple “I was lacking interest in the material, and couldn’t understand anything, and I didn’t ask for help because I knew that you are such a busy man trying to do so many things at once. Another hopeless near college drop-out wasn’t something I thought you needed on your hands.”

     ....Maybe not the latter.

    You sighed, running a hand through your tangled hair, practically feeling it screaming at you to wash it. You barely had time in the mornings to take showers anymore, and when you took them at night, you never had the strength to wash your hair, always knowing that putting a hat on overtop or throwing on your hoodie would make it seem fine on the outside, and that was good enough for you. As long as you looked at least decent and somewhat presentable.

    Your dorm room was fairly small, like every other one, but the lack of furniture made it seem larger than the rest. Nothing more than you and your roommate’s joint desk, the mini fridge in the corner, and the beds filled the space. You almost tripped over your backpack lying next to the bunk bed pushed up against the wall, falling to what would’ve been inches away from your roommate’s sleeping body.

    In an attempt not to disturb them, you tiptoed through the room, stepping over the occasional heap of clothes or homework, until you reached the bathroom. You fumbled over the door knob before almost tumbling into the small space. Glancing in the mirror, you didn’t fail to notice your messy hair, the dark circles tracing beneath your eyes, or the way you looked like you were seconds away from passing out. The sound of running water rang in your ears as you turned on the sink faucet, cupping your hands together and bringing your face down to meet them, rubbing the cold water all over you in an attempt to keep you awake for just a few moments longer.

     Your eyes returned back to the mirror as you sighed at your dripping wet face. There was no way possible you were going to finish your assignment on time. You knew it, your roommate knew it before they passed out, and you had noticed your professor’s wary glance this morning in class as a sign that he knew it too.

     An idea sprang into your head, part of you dreading the optimism that seemed to seep through your brain slowly. You didn’t feel like being energetic right now.

---an hour later---

You weren’t exactly sure how, when, or why you decided it would be a good idea to take a shower (you did end up washing your hair, thank god), get your things together in your bag, and head to the off-campus coffee shop (since the one on-campus had already closed), but you found yourself with a warm cup of coffee in hand as you exited the shop, the cold midnight air enveloping you in an unwelcome embrace.

     You shivered. The only thing your spontaneous brain had forgotten had to have been your jacket, the one thing your normal brain would’ve remembered if it weren’t already past midnight and if you weren’t majorly sleep-deprived.

     You most certainly weren’t done with your essay yet, nor was there any possible way for you to finish it on time since it was now approximately thirteen minutes past the due time, but you let yourself breathe for now.

     There weren’t many people out at this hour, and it made the usual busy city streets seemed like a ghost town. There were a few restaurants still open as you strolled along the sidewalk, their lights responsible for illuminating more than half the area in front of you. You passed by an onigiri shop your friend had recommended to you, but you just weren’t that hungry. Most nights, you’d kill for a midnight snack, but your single shot of espresso coffee was satisfying your needs for now.

     You decided to head to the park after seeing a rabbit hop its way across the vacant street and into the bushes in that direction. The fresh air was nice and cool against your dry and croaky lungs, and your ears needed a different sound than that of you miserably attempting to touch type quickly, your fingers rapping against the keyboard with vigor.

     A stream nearby flowed softly, the dripping of the water against the rocks complimenting the noise of the crickets chirping in sync just downstream. Your footsteps cut through the grass slowly, not bothering to follow the stone path. The park was a nice change of scenery. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been here by yourself in peace, it was always you and your rambunctious friends who ran through every now and then just to see the dogs running through the sprinklers, or the occasional poor cat whose owner dragged them out into the daylight for exercise. This was peaceful, though, and you appreciated that.

     A few more rabbits crossed your path, giving you that wide-eyed, side glance before darting off into the darkness, outside the reach of the lampposts emitting light. The sound of the stream soon faded out as you continued to walk through the park, sipping your coffee every so often. The warmth from your cup was soon dying out, and you figured you’d have to start walking back to your university sooner or later. Maybe you could crash at your friend’s house who lived just off campus, though you had forgotten your phone back at your dorm and had no alarm, no laptop to complete your work, and no contact with anyone else who might worry where you’d be. You had really no choice but to trek back to your dorm in the darkness, cutting your peaceful visit to the park short.

     You let yourself have a few more minutes of stress free relaxing as you sat down on a bench just before the ground let out into a downhill slope overlooking the rest of the city below. The trees around you swayed in the breeze, and for a moment, you thought it was the wind talking, and not an actual human being who had somehow made his way beside you without gathering your attention.

     “Didn’t think anyone else would be up at this hour,” the stranger mumbled. You glanced up, almost startled that, indeed, someone else was actually awake and strolling through the park.

     The boy couldn’t have been much older than you were, maybe the same age. He had his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, the wind tousled his dark hair ever so slightly, and the moonlight played along, illuminating his face just so you could actually see how gorgeous he was.

     You cleared your throat, averting your eyes back to the ground as you shifted over, creating more space on the bench in case he wanted to sit down beside you. “I decided to actually take care of myself for once and give myself some time to breathe before facing the wrath of my professor tomorrow when he finds out I didn’t turn in my essay on time.” You let out a low, breathy chuckle, not exactly sure of what would happen next.

     The guy sat down on the bench next to you, though he made sure to give you some personal space, which you were grateful for. He laughed along with you a bit, and you could tell just from his tone just how tired he really was.

     You gave him a side glance, raising an eyebrow. “So, what the stressful thing that brought you here in the middle of the night?”

     He smiled half-heartedly, eyes trained on the moon. “Work stuff. Jus’ been busy, I guess.” He shrugged. 

     You waited for him to continue on, but he stayed silent. You didn’t complain, though. Wasn’t your whole reason for coming out here in the dead of the night for some quiet? Plus, it wasn’t awkward either. You were comfortable sitting next to this stranger.

     “What do you do for work?” You waited a little longer than necessary to ask, but he didn’t seem to mind the long pause.

     “I own a restaurant a few blocks away. I love the job, it’s just tiring havin’ to deal with rude customers like my brother who won’t get the hint and get out sometimes. I got into an argument with him earlier today and he just wouldn’t shut it.” He rolled his eyes and took his hands out of his pockets, making eye contact with you as he went on about his day, and you couldn’t help but smile at his passion. “The guy thinks he can just walk in when I’m working with a new employee and just act like he runs the place! Quite stupid if you ask me. Such a jerk, he is. Thinkin’ about just banning him from the place, really.” 

     You snorted. “He really bugs you that much, huh?”

     The guy smirked at your laugh, admiring it, though you would never had guess that was what flashed across his face in a million years. He nodded. “Yeah, ‘course I love ‘im ‘cause he’s my twin and my best friend, but he really knows how to annoy the hell outta me.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just get a sign in the window that says “no shirt, no shoes, no service” and cross it out and write my brother’s name instead,” he reasoned, and the pondering look in his eyes made you wonder if he was actually considering the idea.

     You smiled. “You’re funny.”

     “You say that like ya weren’t expectin’ it.”

     A laugh made its way out your lips. “Well, when you’re approached by a stranger in the middle of the night you sort of expect the worst.”

     The guy glanced off in the distance, away from you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Sorry, didn’t think of that comin’ off that way.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m funny then, and not some creep, eh?”

     You nodded, the smile on your face not fading as he changed topics.

     “So, what’s your essay on? Any way I can help ya finish it?”

     You shook your head dismissively. “Oh, no. It was due thirty minutes ago.” You quickly explained the topic you were writing about in class before getting side tracked. “My professor had said he would allow it to be turned in the next morning, but I doubt he actually meant it.”

     He smiled a wide grin, making butterflies flutter in your stomach. “You go to the university nearby, right?” 

     You nodded in confirmation, raising an eyebrow. “If I’ve got any luck, there’s a chance you go there too?”

     He laughed a little, shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t, sorry. I’ve visited campus a few times because some of my friends go there, but I just usually focus on work.”

     His gaze was tilted upwards towards the sky, and you couldn’t help but admire how the exhaustion still shone in his eyes, but somehow that same passion gleamed there too just mentioning what he did for a living. You wished you were that passionate about something that would actually support you financially in the future and make you happy.

     When he glanced back at you, you were still taking his essence in, and he made a look of confusion. “What?”

    You shook your head, chuckling. “Nothing. I just admire that you can dedicate yourself to something and make it seem so easy.” He looked at you, interested to hear what you had to say, even though you were sure you couldn’t be the first person to tell him this. “I haven’t even known you for more than ten minutes and I can already tell you’re passionate about what you do and if you’re stressed about it, it must mean you’re dedicated to seeing your work through, and that’s more than enough to admire and appreciate, especially when that can be so difficult sometimes.” You finished your short tangent, looking back up at him to see him staring intently at you, seemingly in awe of what you’d just said. You felt a blush creep onto your face as you quickly blurted out, “Sorry- I didn’t mean to be so straightforward and weird like that- I sound like some crazy secret admirer or something...”

     The crickets chirped in the silence between the two of you, and it felt like it would never end.

     “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind havin’ a secret admirer. I mean, wouldn’t be so secret, but...” You saw the smile creep up onto his face. “It’s nice being appreciated. Nobody really tells me that kind o’ stuff, so... thanks, I guess.” 

     The heat on your cheeks didn’t go away by any means, but you grew more comfortable with it as you mumbled, “Maybe I wouldn’t mind admiring you.”

     Now, it was the boy’s turn to blush, and you smiled at how his cheeks grew redder with every passing second, and how his subtle grin spoke a thousand words he didn’t need to say.

     “Miya Osamu.” The boy’s hand came into your view as he extended it for you to shake. “I own Onigiri Miya across from the grocery outlet.”

     You smirked, grasping his hand in yours as you said, “L/N Y/N. I own an official license for being a horrible driver and an ID that proves I’m a sleep-deprived college student and that’s about it.”

     He laughed, shaking your hand and standing up, letting go too soon for your liking.

     Because for some weird reason, his hand felt right in yours.

     Osamu said a quick goodbye, mentioning something about how he should get going and how you should get some sleep before he disappeared down the stone path back into the darkness.

     You stood up not too long after he’d left, your coffee now entirely cold as you plopped the half full cup into the trash can on your walk back to your dorm, not needing the pathetic warmth anymore. Your heart was beating fast and the feeling of Osamu’s hand resting in yours lingered on your palm, and that kept you warm enough.

     Maybe you’d be visiting that onigiri place your friend recommended to you a little sooner than you’d originally planned, and maybe more often than you would’ve expected.

[reversecreek]

☾ ☃ ☗ ✓

☾ Sleeping habits

she cld honestly probably sleep anywhere if she needed to................... she cld sleep curled up n folded into herself like a bit of origami inside a high school locker if the situation called fr it. bt then it’s like............ like. she cld fall asleep in a raging thunderstorm bt wake up at the slightest creak of a floorboard. she’s very at peace w the world n nature n settles wherever bt she’s also very smart n alert abt staying safe where people r concerned so she always has tht in mind. i picture tht she goes to sleep whatever pose her position/placement requires her to bt then if she’s on a mattress she’s curled up like a fist. when she was younger she used to have this rly worn n moth bitten toy rabbit she’d sleep with that her mum bought for her after finding out she was pregnant n she’d sleep w that sometimes bt like. she’d hide it under a floorboard during the day n only get it out at night when nearly everyone in abernathy creek was asleep so she could tuck it right to her chest and curl around it to keep it safe. sometimes she’d imagine it as her heart being outside of her body n when she went silent n held her breath she’d hear the thump of her pulse in her ears but pretend it was the rabbit’s. her dad lost it on one of their “adventures” and magda seriously doesn’t care she literally DOESN’T care at all she doesn’t care a SINGLE bit i’m so serious she doesn’t care.... starting to sound like she might care a little but that’s a freakish thing to suggest n she doesn’t give a single fk? the audience murmurs amongst themselves n exchanges pointed glances. i’m among them. as for how much sleep she gets she’ll just sleep whenever she can for however long she can. can survive on quite a small amt.

☗ What you’d find in their cabinets

she’s between homes rn so she just typically has one of those like camping backpacks she hauls between places w her shit in. just like clothes n a phone charger n random essential bits n pieces n then also a pic of her mama w pregnant belly tht her dad took a long time ago. when she was younger the abernathy creek cabinets weren’t rly her own to use so she just hid things under a pried up floorboard like i mentioned in prev ask........ she called this her magpie’s nest in her head...... hd all her little stolen trinkets n things tht interested her. a page torn from a library book on wabi-sabi tht got rain damaged from a leak. a little toy soldier tht she scribbled over in Sharpie so it looked like it was wearing a black mini dress to make the boys wink at the club. two very large paper clips that she’d pin splits in her clothes together with (still uses these today or newer versions). jst some examples.

✓ What a typical Tuesday night looks like

i honestly dnt know if there’s such thing as a Typical tuesday night for magda idk she’s a little unpredictable one night she might just be like oh i suddenly want to know the entire history of pompeii leading up to their civilisation’s incineration n she’ll take a book frm the library n find a very tall tree to climb so she can read abt this fr hours in the branches. another night she might be like hm i think i wna see if anyone’s glovebox has a kitkat in because i’m feeling like a little kitkat boy so she’ll proceed to try n break in without a trace to several cars in an abandoned parking lot n then go down a whole wormhole of investigating strangers music tastes if she stumbles across old cds n pulling out the little lyrics manuals tht used to come w albums n scoffing at lines she thinks r shit. another night she’s like i’ve decided i’m gna uncover a murder from 250 yrs ago n she calls up an unsolved local case in archives n then treks thru the woods looking around like >_> <_< i’m hot on the scent..... bt rly she’s just high n walking around fr hours toes probably going numb frm the cold in a world of her own. these r all different tuesdays tht have canonically taken place. maybe she’s hanging around w people occasionally. she has a pretty wide rotation of people to hang w considering she doesn’t actually get Close or get to Know the majority of them bt. she’s fleetingly there n then she isn’t. part of her charm. 

[whittiernotwitty-blog]

where do i start? hello everyone! my name is josh, i’m 20, and i used to tumblr rp a super long time ago and switched to twitter roleplaying, but now i wanna get back to my roots so here i am! a lot has changed so it’s kinda like stepping into darkness right now but i’m sure i’ll get the hang of it! 

anyways, below is some information/background about whittier! like this if you’d like to plot, im open for anything!

Whittier “Whit” Rabbit — Twenty Six — Personal Assistant 

Whittier does not have the greatest family life. Both his parents are poor which is why he pushes himself to succeed in a lot of different things—that’s why he wants to be the best personal assistant since that is the job he has at the moment.

Since he is Quinn’s assistant and his apartment is below hers, I am assuming Quinns father is paying for the luxurious place—which only fuels him more to work harder so he can attain an apartment like this himself.

Whittier not only talks to his therapist about his stress in his life and how busy he is, but also about his family, his generalized anxiety and emerging OCD if he continues to live life the way he’s living.

Whittier has almost 5 planners and calendars. He’s got one at his desk, along with a backup planner there too. He has one on his phone, on his fridge, and he has a mini planner/calendar in his backpack for when he’s out. He’s constantly writing down everything he needs to do all the time.

Instead of being an assistant, he wishes he could be a part of a professional sports team, whether that be football or soccer. He enjoys both a lot, and working out is something he can’t live without.

Speaking of sports and working out, Whittier is in very good shape! He’s got a muscular build and for more body information, he is 5′9″ and has a little bit of body hair here and there. He’s always warm too, like a personal heater/teddy bear.

Whittier is gay, but he’s not super vocal about it. Since his schedule has always been so busy, he’s never really found the time to date. However, he dreams about finding his special someone.

Some things he likes: horror movies, true crime podcasts, sweatpants, hot baths, bath bombs, citrus, power naps, space, dreams, planners, bullet journaling, stickers, self-checkout machines, boxer briefs, over-ear headphones, sprinting, weekly pill organizers, cinnamon body wash, classic/antique cars

Wanted Connections

- Super close friend(s) that let him rant and vent and they have sleepovers all the time and talk about anything and everything 

- A sibling like relationship! Someone who understands him on a deeper level

- Someone to get Whittier to calm down and take a chill pill (not actual drugs)

- A workout buddy since Whittier hits the gym regularly

- Video game friends, if Whittier finds time to relax with some video games he’ll definitely call them to hang

- Ex-Girlfriend, someone he dated shortly in high school before came to terms with his sexuality

- Friends with benefits, hard to schedule but a lot less time consuming than dating, yeah?

- Literally anything else I’m down for anything!

[sending-the-message]

Etch-E-Sketch (FINAL) by MidnightWritings

Part 4

The word pain couldn’t even begin to describe what I felt when I woke up. I didn’t bother opening my eyes right away, too afraid to see what was around me. I didn’t wake up thinking I was back at home, in my bed, safely tucked away. And I didn’t wake up like last time, worrying about where I was, being completely disoriented. Instead, I woke up with a flood of memories, it seemed like the entire day played back in my head the minute I regained consciousness. That’s why I was afraid to open my eyes.

My head was flopped back, my neck and upper spine screaming at me. I could tell I was sitting in a chair, but not a very comfortable one. My arms rested on something in front of me, from what I could tell it felt plastic. Maybe a table? I tried lifting my head up, but it felt like gravity was working against me. I went to lift my hands to my neck, but they slammed back down against the table.

I opened my eyes, looking at the foamy tiles of a drop ceiling. I blinked through the blaring fluorescent lights and grunted as I strained to lift my head. My eyes followed the walls down to a collection of children’s desks in front of me.

I went to fully sit up, pulling my legs in, and my kneecaps whacked against the top of the attached desk. My eyes fluttered across my exposed arms. Strips of cloth were tied around them, connecting to the legs of my desk and chair. I went to lean forward and felt a braided cloth dig into my stomach. I was seat belted and strapped down to a children’s desk. I tugged at my restraints, but they hardly moved. These weren’t just plain, white clothes, they were colorful, some held sparkles and designs. I turned my wrist and saw a white ruffle intertwined with what looked like a glittery unicorn. Tucked underneath one piece of fabric was a white strip of silky paper stitched into the seam. A clothing tag labeled ‘small’. I was being held down with clothes from children.

I started to feel it again, the same feeling from the missing posters room. Their eyes. I kept twisting my wrists, the skin turning red and raw, burnt from the growing friction. The makeshift belt around my stomach dug further into my torso, pressing against my bladder. Thank God it was empty. The legs of my seat scratched against the concrete ground as I tried to loosen myself, making me look around to see if Ms. Jennifer was close enough to hear my movement.

The walls of the makeshift classroom were worn and dirty, dark ooze dripping down where the ceiling and the walls met. Discolored posters were taped against the walls, trying to hide old stains, but not doing much for the overall feel of the room. The old cartoons’ faces were barely visible, spots of blue from their eyes or a tooth here and there poked through every once in a while. The bold printed words screamed out to ‘Wash Your Hands’ or to ‘Learn Something New Today’. A felt rug covered the cement floor. It was designed with different colored shapes, blue and yellow swirls filling in the gaps between. The edges of the rug curled up, snags and pills scattering over the surface.

Strewn around the room were children’s toys of all kinds. Three different stuffed animals were sat huddled together under the broken window, stackable, plastic blocks were scattered around the mat, and even an ant farm lay forgotten by the chalkboard.

It wasn’t until I twisted my head around that I really started to yank at my restraints. Behind me was a homemade cubby section. Wooden planks were sloppily nailed together, ends of bent nails sticking out from each board. At the top of the crooked square cubbies were names written on painter’s tape, the white sharpie marks popping out from the blue material. My eyes filtered over name after name, stopping at ones that I recognized, Max’s friends.

Amy

Donald

Gary

Gregory

Max

My eyes watered as I found my brother’s name, his backpack neatly hanging on the hook underneath his cubby. The main zipper on his bag was opened, the unattached teeth exposing the contents of his bag. I saw all his toys from home except for one. I spotted his red toy car, his mini dump truck, his roaring t-rex, and his stuffed rabbit named Cooper, but one toy was missing. The Etch-E-Sketch.

I practically jumped out of my chair, thrashing around to try to break free. I kicked the legs, trying to bend the rusted steel and slip the bondages off. I winced each time the legs slid across the floor or every dull thwack my heel gave to the iron. I wanted to get out, but I didn’t want Ms. Jennifer knowing I was awake.

“Oh, looks who’s up from their nap?” her airy voice sailed into the room, her lanky body following quickly after.

Her jacket was off and, despite the biting cold around the room, her forehead had broken into a sweat. She carried three green glass bottles in her arms, neatly setting them down on her dust covered teachers desk. She walked around the desk and pulled out her seat, quietly plopping down. She bent over and pulled open one of the desk drawers, bringing up a stained wine glass. A permanent ring had tarnished the glass about three quarters from the top.

She neatly folded her hands atop the desk, smiling sweetly at me, “Ready for your lesson?”

“You’re about to get a lesson. Piece of shit,” I mumbled, no longer hiding my temper.

“Oh, what language,” Ms. Jennifer scolded. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

“Touch me and you die,” I warned, still yanking at my arm restraints.

Her shrill laugh cackled around the room, vibrating in my ears before churning in my stomach, “Oh, you’re a treat.” She stood up and grabbed a bottle and her glass, walking around to lean against the front of her desk. “Fun fact; did you know that blood has been in all sorts of beauty treatments since the Victorian Era?”

I refused to look at her, staying focused on getting away. I tried to block out her voice, but it was like a fly constantly buzzing around my head.

“Back when being pale was all the rage,” she continued, “people would actually drain some of their blood to get a lighter color. There’s even one story of a woman bathing in blood to keep a youthful glow to her skin, did you know that?” she asked, her voice somehow getting even higher.

I still refused to look at her. I heard her pop the cork on the bottle she held, bringing to her nose, and sniffing its contents. A sigh escaped her lips that made me want to vomit all over myself.

“And most recently something called a Vampire Facial?” she asked, an incredulous tone taking over her voice. “Wasteful. Injecting your own blood into your face isn’t going to help anything,” she laughed. “They were all on the right track, but the trick is to start from the inside out.” I heard her slosh the liquid within the bottle around, stirring up whatever was inside. “I assume you found your parents?”

This made my eyes flash up toward her, my body freezing.

“Oh, there we are,” she smiled. “They weren’t the best candidates, but I was running out of time. Thirsty?” she asked, holding the bottle out toward me.

I could feel my eyes grow, starting to realize what might be in that wine bottle. I pushed my feet against the ground, trying to move away from her.

“Come on, I made it myself,” she smiled, slowly tipping the bottle over her wine glass.

The thick liquid seeped from the open bottle top, chunks of coagulated blood slapping against the glass. She gently filled it up, three quarters of the way, before setting the bottle down. She brought the glass up to her nose, sniffing the iron into her lungs. I couldn’t watch as she brought the glass up to her lips.

GULP. GULP. GULP.

I bit my tongue, not wanting her to hear the sob slowly crawling up my throat. I flinched at the sloppy pop her lips made as an audible ‘ah’ rocketed through her mouth.

“I must say, your parents aged like…a fine wine,” she smiled, her white teeth stained red.

“You’re disgusting,” I hissed.

“Well, if you can’t appreciate that little joke, you’re going to hate what I labeled them,” she said, picking up the wine bottle and reading the cursive writing on the makeshift labeled. “A Baker’s Dozen. Nice little play on your last name, huh?” she teased.

I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. I thrashed and cursed every curse I could remember. I screamed until my voice went horse. I violently tipped my chair on it’s two back legs, threatening to fall backward. My hair stuck to my tear stained cheeks, itching my skin, and poking my eyes. I huffed, trying to catch my breath between sobs and curses.

Ms. Jennifer stood back, watching me with a tilted head. “You know,” she said, once I had quieted down, “they say to ignore a child that’s throwing a temper tantrum, that they’ll tire themselves out eventually.” She slowly walked forward, bringing the bottle of my parents’ blood with her, “But sometimes, I think they’re just hungry.”

“No,” I breathed, all feeling draining from my face as she got closer. “Stay the fuck away from me!”

I felt her boney fingers wrap around the back of my neck, her nails pinching into my skin. I tried to lean back as far as I could, only further trapping myself into her grasp. I felt the sticky bottle tap against my lips. I squished my mouth shut, sucking my lips into my mouth, trying to stop any way for blood to get in. The bottle dug into my mouth, bashing against my teeth through the thin layer of skin protecting them.

She tipped the bottle and I felt the still warm liquid sop over my face. The syrupy blood stuck to my skin and hair. I grunted and tried turning my face, making her nails dig further into the back of my neck. She fully tipped the bottle, making the blood run over my mouth and up into my nose. I felt the warm goop run down my sinuses, making their way into the back of my esophagus. I couldn’t help the gag that erupted out of my mouth, blood now coating my tongue and teeth. I couldn’t catch my breath through the bombarding gelatin that slid down my throat.

It tasted like metal, salty and sour at the same time. My eyes watered as I gurgled against the intrusion. I heard her creepy giggle as she pulled the bottle away from my face. I turned to the side and wretched, everything coming back up my throat and landing on the cement with a splat. I was horrified to see most of it was red. My shoulders bounced at the sobs falling from my mouth while snot, tears, blood, vomit, and drool dripping from my face.

I briefly felt something on my left leg but didn’t kick my foot out in time. I could only freely move my right leg now, she had tied my left ankle to the desk. She stood in front of me and shook her head, walking away with the now empty bottle. Ms. Jennifer pulled open an armoire in the corner of the room, revealing rows of empty wine bottles. She carefully pushed one aside and placed my parent’s empty bottle with the rest of her collection.

“Now, I want to do a little experiment,” she giggled, pulling something else from a drawer in her desk, hiding it behind her back, “consider this the science part of your lesson.”

She stopped in front of my desk and I swung my right leg out to kick her, snarling as I did. My face dropped when she caught it midair, squeezing the muscle in my calf. I winced as the cramp starting to form and tried to wrench my leg away. She smiled and turned around, tucking my leg under her arm, my foot in front of her. I felt her slowly lift my shoe up and off my foot, exposing my toes to the winter air.

“I just want to see how much of a difference you would make to my recipe,” she explained, holding the pliers up for me to see.

“No!” I screamed, trying to wiggle out of her grasp.

My leg barely moved. She was too strong, abnormally strong. She threw her head back in laughter, some of her stringy hair landing on my desk, brushing against my fingertips. I got a handful of her hair and yanked as hard as I could, bashing her head against the desktop.

She growled and pulled my leg up, hyperextending my knee. It felt like my kneecap was going to pop off, the tendons burning all the way up to my hip. I screamed and let go of her hair, wanting the pain to stop.

“I don’t want to kill you just yet,” she hissed through her teeth, “so I’ll only need a little drop.” She placed the pliers over my big toe, the two metal prongs gripping it tightly. “This little piggy went to the market,” she sang, moving the pliers down my row of toes. “This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef. This little piggy had none. Now this little piggy,” she jeered, squeezing the pliers around my baby toe.

I yelled, trying to flex my toes out from her grasp. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I could imagine what was coming next. I felt the ends of the plier prongs slip under the edge of my toenail, grabbing hold.

“Cried, wee, wee, WEE,” she barked, slowly pulling my toenail from my skin.

The scream started from my stomach and radiated through my chest, finally exploding out of my mouth. It made my body jerk forward, the braided belt digging even further into my stomach.

“All the way home,” she smiled, holding my toenail up between the plier’s mouth.

She let my foot drop, the vibration of when it landed on the floor sent a shock of pain through the exposed skin on my toe. She walked over to her desk, wiping the little flecks of blood off her hands, and grabbed another full bottle. Ms. Jennifer glided over toward me, yanking my foot back up and pinching the bottom of my baby toe, squeezing blood out of the exposed skin. I felt the hot droplets pool and slowly drip into the open bottle top.

She let my foot fall again and swirled the few drops of blood that were taken from me around, mixing it all together. She brought it up to her lips and winced, spitting a wad of red gunk from her mouth.

“Ugh,” she shuddered, “not good. You’re…sour. Bitter.” She bent over the desk and spat in my face, “Rotten. You’ve ruined a whole bottle!” she yelled, throwing the green glass aside.

I jumped as it shattered against the wall, splattering blood and glass around the room. She moved behind me and I felt her boney fingers grasp onto the back of my chair, grating the iron legs across the floor.

“Time for a field trip!” she chirped, her dreamy voice echoing around.

She pushed me through the room and out the door into the hallway. I scraped my heel along the floor, trying to stop her as much as I could. I felt my skin being shredded by the rough ground, chunks of my flesh being sanded away.

“MAX!” I screamed, my voice being carried down the hall. “MAX!” I just wanted to hear that he was alive, that he was still okay.

“Oh good,” her airy voice wafted from behind me, “call him. Little brat ran off before I could get a good grip on him.”

My heart felt like it did a cartwheel, excitement pumping through my veins as I realized Max was alive. He had escaped her. He had done it. I couldn’t help but smile through my tears.

“MAX!” I yelled again. “STAY WHERE YOU ARE! STAY HIDDEN! DON’T COME OUT! YOU’RE GOING TO BE FI-”

I gagged as something was shoved into my mouth, it’s rotten, stained taste sinking onto my saliva. I tried to move my tongue, tried to shove the cloth out of my mouth, but the more I tried the more juice squished out from the fabric.

“Shh, shh,” Ms. Jennifer babbled, whispering into my ear, “we’re almost there.”

She pushed my desk into a wall, hidden hinges squealing as my knees bashed against a swinging door. My eyes couldn’t adjust fast enough to the blackness in front of me, but Ms. Jennifer seemed to have no trouble at all navigating through the musty, hidden hall.

The air smelled burnt, not like firewood or smoldering food, but like asphalt and hair. It felt like I was leaning forward, my chair tilting at an angle as I was pushed along. The temperature seemed to, somehow, get hotter and for a good, long while I genuinely thought we were going into Hell. I could hear a distant crackling sound, something spitting and snapping, getting louder as we got closer.

She slid my chair and desk around a sharp corner and I was bathed in an orange glow. An oven, a big vat of wrought iron, sat squat in the middle of the room. The furnace unleashed a torrent of flames, most staying inside the iron confines, but some snuck their way out, licking the sides of the container.

My chair was pushed a little too close to the open flames, the heat making my skin moisten with sweat and I was afraid I was going to come out of this with no eyebrows. But honestly, if eyebrows and one toenail was all that was missing from me when I got out, I would be a happy camper. I was going to get out of this, both me and Max. There was no other option.

Ms. Jennifer walked around me, sticking her face closer to the open flames and wafting the smoke to her nose. Little particles of what looked to be dust floated around the air, giving everything a hazy lens.

She turned to me and smiled, her skin glowing bright orange in the fire’s light, “The kiddies love coming down here, dancing around, seeing how close they can get.” She smiled, remembering all the times she had brought the little kids down here. “It seemed only right that this was the last place they saw.”

It wasn’t until I looked through the flames and into the embers that I saw it. Bones. Skinny bones, some still covered in bits of sizzling fabric, others completely browned from the hot flames. I was looking at the cremated remains of hundreds of children. It wasn’t dust in the air or that covered the ground, it was ashes. I held my breath, not wanting to breathe anything in.

Ms. Jennifer reached into a cabinet next to the furnace, grabbing a shovel that was leaning against the wall at the same time. She held something in her hand, but I couldn’t see what it was until she stepped back into the firelight. A Barbie Doll. She popped off the head of the doll and set it back down. She grabbed a hidden funnel from the shadows behind the furnace and jammed it into the Barbie’s neck. Taking she shovel, she scooped some of the cooled ashes into the funnel, filling the dolls hollow body with the children’s remains.

“They make the best toys, don’t you think?” she asked, popping the doll’s head back on.

Images flashed in my mind; the teddy bears laying under the window, the scattered blocks on the felt rug, the forgotten ant farm. Those toys weren’t stuffed with teddy bear fluff, or made from plastic, or packed with dirt, they were all filled with children’s ashes. That’s why Max has so many friends at daycare, they were trapped there, even after death.

“And I have just the toy for little Max,” she smiled, pulling out a box labeled ‘My Pet Rock’.

I jumped as Ms. Jennifer’s knees were swept out from under her. She crumpled over, hitting her head on the edge of the furnace and laid still on the ground. From the shadows, Max stepped out with the baseball bat firmly in both hands. His face was covered in soot and his yellow shirt was now a dark mustard.

“Max,” my muffled cry sounded. He ran over to me, ripping the cloth from my mouth. “Are you okay?” I whispered, not wanting to wake Ms. Jennifer up.

“I’m fine,” he nodded. “I’m scared, Joanne,” he cried, tears leaving trails of clean skin over his cheeks.

“Don’t be, we’re going to get out,” I nodded, eyes flickering over toward Ms. Jennifer’s still body. “I need your help. Can you untie me?”

Max nodded his head and took the cloth in between his little fingers. He worked at the knots but couldn’t seem to loosen them. We both jumped as Ms. Jennifer groaned.

“Joanne!” Max cried, fingers trembling.

“It’s okay,” I assured, “stand back.”

I waited until Max stepped away before I rocked my chair, tipping the desk sideways. I landed on my right set of ribs, bouncing a bit against the cement floor. I bit back a hiss, trying not to focus on the blooming pain. I pulled my left ankle down the leg of the desk, feeling it fall free as the restraint slipped off the bottom. I tried to reach down and slip my arm restraints off, but the desk leg was too long. I had to break it. I tucked the iron leg in the nook behind my knee and pulled.

I saw Ms. Jennifer try to slide her arm up under herself, groaning as she pushed her hair away from her face.

“Joanne!” Max shrieked.

“Max, run,” I ordered, hearing the metal leg whine as I bent it.

He ran into the shadows and came back out with the Etch-E-Sketch in hand. I heard the patter of his gym shoes run up the vaulted hallway, hopefully out the door and away from this entire place.

I gave one final grunt as the desk leg snapped off at its rusted joint. I pulled my arm down and around the bottom of the ragged end, finally being able to stretch my arm freely. I leaned over the other side and freed my right hand as well. I was almost completely out. I looked up and saw Ms. Jennifer was gone, along with the bat, a clear print was marked in the ashes where her body once laid.

My hands tore at the cloth around my stomach, but I couldn’t get the knot undone either. I pushed it down lower on my hips, wincing as it ripped at my skin, almost too tight to shimmy out of. I forced the cloth over my hips and butt, kicking my legs as I pulled myself free over the cement ground.

I heard her grunt and I turned, rolling away just in time to miss the bat. She had swung it over her head, intending on bashing my skull open. The bat cracked against the cement floor as she growled. I scrambled away, snagged the broken off desk leg. I stood up and swung as she looked over at me. The jagged edge of the broken leg made contact with her forehead, right between her eyes. She flopped backwards and bounced on the ground, moaning as she pushed her palm on the open gash in her skin.

“Stay down!” I spat, quickly running over to the furnace.

I tossed the Barbie Doll she made into the fire and stuffed as many matchboxes from the cabinet into my jeans as I possibly could. I ran right passed her, picking up both the iron bar and the bat, and sprinted up the inclined hallway, the orange light disappearing behind me.

“Ugh,” I heard her growl, a base tone reverberating in her throat. “I think someone needs a time out.”

I just pumped my arms harder, limping slightly at the fact one of my shoes was missing. The dusty floor irritated my open wound, ash and soot settling into the area where my toenail was supposed to be. For a while, the only sound I could hear was my breathing and the irregular stomp and slap of my booted foot and bare foot bounding up the hall.

STOMP. SLAP. STOMP. SLAP.

SCREEEEEE

Something sounded from behind me. I could only imagine what it could have been, but I didn’t dare look back. I saw a faint halo of light coming from around the hidden door in the wall. I braced my arms and burst through the door, back into the afternoon sunlit hallway. I saw Max at the end of the hall. He stopped and turned toward me, running back my way.

“Max, no!” I yelled, sprinting as hard as I could. “Keep going! Get out!”

I spared a look behind me and saw her pale, insect like fingers slowly creep around the door. I stumbled a bit, but quickly regained my balance, bursting back into the classroom. I looked around and spotted all the toys. I couldn’t let the kids stay here. They needed to get out. I grabbed the nearest teddy bear and jammed the spiked iron bar into its stomach, ripping open the fabric to see grey dust puff out instead of cotton. I dumped out the ashes and watched them swirl into the air a bit, seeming to evaporate among the oxygen.

“Joanne,” Max called, suddenly appearing behind me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, ripping into another stuffed animal. “I told you to get out.”

“Not alone,” he shook his head.

I glanced at him as I shook out the second stuffed toy’s ashes. I nodded and handed him the bat, “Alright, then help me. Smash everything in this room. Anything that can be broken, break it.”

He nodded and went to work, bashing walls, denting the cabinet doors, shattering glass vases, and even sent spider vein cracks into the window. Between the two of us, the air was filled with ashes before we had time to cover our noses. I coughed a bit as I threw the ant farm to the ground, grey particles seeping out from the glass instead of brown dirt.

“Joanne!” Max called through the hazy air.

“Here!” I called, wiping the sweat off my cheek. I reached my hand out and felt Max’s shoulder. “All done?”

“I think,” he shrugged, now holding onto his red, plastic toy.

Like lightning before thunder, I knew what I had to do next. It made sense, the roll the Etch-E-Sketch played. The messages, how it always seemed to know what was going on, how it moved on its own. The one-word notes flashed through my brain.

STOP. They were telling me to stop sending Max to daycare. To stop letting Ms. Jennifer take my brother. To stop ignoring everything.

HELP. They needed me to do something, say something. To help stop this.

HER. They were telling me it was her. Her who was causing the trouble. Her who had taken my parents. Her who would hurt my family.

RUN. They knew she was outside my house, in the woods, stalking me. I needed to get out, leave, run.

“How did you know where to hide?” I asked, eyeing the Etch-E-Sketch.

As suspected, he looked down at the toy’s screen. “My friends,” he whispered.

“Max, give me the toy.”

“No,” he backed away.

Down the hall, I could hear heavy footsteps. Footsteps that sounded too loud, too big. The ground vibrated underneath us with each footfall.

“Kiddies!” Ms. Jennifer’s dreamy voice wafted down the hall. “Now’s not the time for hide and seek.”

“Max, please!” I begged.

“No!” he cried.

“We don’t have time-”

“They can’t go,” he cried, hugging the toy to his chest. “They’re my friends.”

“They’re stuck,” I shook my head. “They want to go home, just like you do. We can help them go home.”

Max peeled the toy from his chest and looked down at it, tears spilling over his cheeks. He looked up and nodded, handing over the Etch-E-Sketch. I grabbed it and went to bust if over my knee but stopped. A final message was scrawled over the screen, the last letter being squiggled on.

THANKS

I nodded, wiping my own tears from my eyes, crying for the babies that didn’t make it out. For the families that put out the missing posters, who went to bed at night wondering where their sister, brother, child went.

I gripped the edges of the Etch-E-Sketch and shook the message away. I jammed the flat surface over the boniest part of my knee, splitting the toy right down the middle. Grey ash tumbled from the crack, black flecks of magnetic dust sprinkled throughout. I watched the ashes sink to the floor, getting swept up as a winter breeze blew through the broken window of the room.

I gently bent down, shaking the last bits of ash from the toy before placing the plastic remains on the ground. “You’re welcome,” I whispered, stepping away with Max.

“Run down the hall, alright?” I told him, reaching into my back pocket for a box of matches. “Don’t stop running until you’re out of this building.

“Okay,” he said, backing away from the room.

I lit five matches at a time, throwing them around, wanting to burn the entire place down. The curtains were the first thing to catch, then the wooden teachers table, and then the teddy bear skins. I didn’t stay to watch the rest. I ran out into the hall and kicked open the missing persons room, striking more matches and tossing them around. The papers lit instantly, throwing a yellow glow out into the hall.

“What have you done!?” I heard Ms. Jennifer shriek.

I turned just in time to see her walk into her old classroom. Her back was hunched, and she seemed to almost bounce as she walked. I heard her bones snap and pop and she walked into the classroom.

I threw the last bundle of matches and ran across the hall, seeing Max standing at the corner, watching me. I shooed him away and covered my nose, pushing open the door to the room I wish I could forget.

I couldn’t leave Mom and Dad. They couldn’t stay here. They needed to be buried, have a funeral, they deserved at least that. I tried not to focus on their faces, tried to ignore the fact that my parents sat in a pile on the floor, looking like raisins. I grabbed one of my dad’s arms and one of my mom’s and started tugging. My fingers dug into their skin, feeling their bones, and dried up veins under my fingertips. Their skin moved and slid freely under my hands. It made me gag, but it reminded me of fried chicken, how the greasy skin can so easily be removed.

“Joanne,” Max whispered, making me jump.

I turned around and put my body in between his eyes and my dead parents, “Max, don’t look.”

“I know,” he hung his head, wrapping his fingers around the belt loop of my jeans. “we need to go.”

“Max,” I tried speaking, the lump getting too big to hold back, “I can’t leave them.” I openly cried, allowing my legs to give out. “They need to come home.”

“They are,” Max cried, hugging me around the neck, “they are home.”

I couldn’t help but smile at him. This four-year-old was stronger than me in every way. Stronger in knowledge, spirit, and even faith. I nuzzled my wet cheeks against this hair and pulled away.

“You’re right,” I nodded, turning back to my parents.

I set both their arms back down, laying their hands next to each other. I pulled both their wedding rings off before standing up, slipping the gold into my pocket. I felt in my other pocket and pulled out the last box of matches. I led Max out into the hallway and lit a handful, throwing them down the hallway. I didn’t bother trying to catch fire to the room my parents were in, there was too much blood. I walked backwards, throwing ignited matches down the hall all the way.

I didn’t start running until I saw Ms. Jennifer snake her head out from one of the classrooms, her hair making an appearance before her face. Her stingy locks were thrown out of their regular braid and her eyes were milkier than usual. Her smile was what made me turn and run.

I scooped Max up into my arms and ran like I had never run before. I told him to keep his eyes closed and head down. The extra weight didn’t make anything easier, but the adrenalin helped. I couldn’t feel my legs, but I knew they were still running. I couldn’t feel my heart, but it still pumped. I clung to Max and tried to regulate my breathing.

I turned my body and slammed my weight against the front door of the house, getting slapped by the biting wind and snowflakes. Piles of snow erupted as I trudged through them, soaking my clothes, and numbing my exposed skin. I ran into the street and through the neighborhood, crying as I heard police sirens in the distance.

I collapsed to the ground as their red and blue lights flashed around the snow-covered buildings, finally allowing myself to rest.

It was over.

It turns out, the police station had been able to track down my location when I attempted to call 9-1-1. They said it helped that I had my GPS tracker activated.

Me and Max were taken to the nearest hospital, he was completely fine, not a scratch on him. I was given some antibiotics once I told the nurses that I was forced to drink blood. They bandaged up my toe too, and I was treated for frostbite and a bruised rib.

They said by the time the firemen got there, the building was about ready to collapse. They didn’t really have any other choice but to let it burn down. They had found the remains of my parents, but only their skulls and some partially disintegrated bones, everything else was gone.

Me and Max were released from the hospital a week later. Instead of being able to nap and fully grasp what we had been through, I had to plan a memorial for my parents. It was small, just close family and friends. My lab partners were the first people there, bringing food and flowers. Max filled up a jar with his favorite rocks, the Geode going in last, and I wrapped a little ribbon around it, their wedding bands hanging on each bow. It was what we had left of them, instead of an urn or funeral flowers, we had a jar of rocks.

I dropped out of school and work from home now, filing lab data from the comfort of my childhood living room. My boss says I am welcome to come back to the lab any time I want. I don’t think it’s going to be soon. I want to be here for Max. Maybe once he starts high school I’ll go back, but for right now I’m staying put.

I’ve just been able to sit down and process what had all happened. Being able to write it out helped a lot. I’ve only recently gotten my appetite back. I can’t eat anything fried and nothing with cucumbers, those smells alone make me want to vomit.

I’ve developed a bad habit of rechecking things. I go around the house at least three times at night, checking that the doors are locked, the windows are latched tight, and making sure the blinds are shut. Max never leaves my sight either. I can tell he’s growing annoyed with me, but I can’t help it. He’s starting kindergarten soon, I signed him up for class and cried the whole time. We meet with his teacher next week. You better believe I have been doing nonstop research on the school. I will be driving him to class and picking him up every day.

I don’t sleep anymore, not at night at least. I’ll pass out on the couch in the middle of the day and wake up shaking. I only have nightmares. The doctors say they will go away and I’ll be able to sleep like normal soon, but I don’t think so. I won’t be able to rest until I know what happened to Ms. Jennifer. Whether she burned or ran away, I don’t care. It’s the not knowing that keeps me up.

I think back to the first day I talked to my brother and how far we have come. It makes me sick to think about all the ‘what if’s. What if I continued to ignore him? What if he went to daycare one more time? What if Max had never brought that Etch-E-Sketch home?

And to think, I yelled at him for stealing.

[lovemesomesurveys]

do you have a favorite sibling? I’m closer to my younger brother.

apple or android?  I’m an Apple gal.

what color is the blanket/quilt on your bed? Currently I just have a top sheet, which is mint green.

any languages you want to learn? I’d like to be fluent in Spanish. My mom has been learning with the Duolingo app and it’s actually been helpful for me as well. I’ve been able to help her out and in turn brush up on it. It surprises me how much I still remember. 

is math easy or hard? I always struggled with math. 

do you play basketball? No.

ever prank called someone?  In middle school my friends and I prank called places a few times. So stupid. *face palm*

ever tried carrot juice?  EW, I have no desire to try carrot juice. I like raw carrot sticks with ranch, but cooked carrots and carrot cake are disgusting and I imagine carrot juice would be, too.

what's an unusual/weird food combo you like? People probably thought that Oreos and peanut butter were weird up until the Parent Trap aired, but I’m still addicted, years later. Doesn’t hurt to throw some fluff on there, either. <<< I love that combo. There’s peanut butter Oreos, but honestly regular Oreos dipped in peanut butter are so much better. Anyway, yeah I have a few food combos others would probably consider weird. The first that comes to mind is scrambled eggs and ranch. Scrambled eggs with guacamole and ranch are really good as well.

favorite milkshake flavor? Banana is the only flavor of milkshake that I drink. <<< Banana milkshakes are the best! Strawberry or vanilla are good choices as well, but banana is number 1.

favorite type of milk?  I’m lactose intolerant, so sweetened vanilla soy or almond milk. I don’t like to drink it by itself, though. Regular milk doesn’t taste good either, so I’m not missing out.

would you rather wear a suit or dress? I’d prefer dress pants and a nice blouse. 

best year of your life? Childhood years

how loud do you like your music in the car? I don’t need it bumpin’.

prefer to write or read? Read, definitely.

favorite apps? YouTube, TikTok, Kindle, Spotify, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and Facebook.

did/does your favorite teacher wear glasses? Yeah, he did. I’m sure he still does.

how do you like your eggs if you like them at all? Scrambled, over-easy, hard boiled, deviled. 

ever seen snow? Yeah, but only a few times.

ever gone sledding? No.

favorite holiday?  Christmas, Easter, Halloween, and Thanksgiving.

is your hair long? Yeah, it goes down to my butt.

do/did you play an instrument? I played violin in the 4th grade and I also took piano lessons as a kid and for an elective my senior year in high school.

do you have a nintendo switch?  I do. 

ever skipped class?  Sometimes in college, but I definitely didn’t make a habit of it.

ever skipped a whole school day? Yeah. ^^^ Prior to college I only ever missed school if I was sick or had a doctor appointment (my doctor appointments were out of town and I always ended up being there awhile).

what is a fruit you refuse to eat? Oranges and tangerines. I’m actually allergic to tangerines.

would you rather gain weight or lose weight? I need to gain weight.

would you rather gain height or lose height? I wouldn’t mind being a little bit taller. <<<

when was the last time you ate cotton candy? I’m not sure, it’s been several years.

are both your eyes the same color? Yes.

do you prefer to carry a backpack or a purse?  I like using a mini backpack. 

do you like glittery things?  They’re pretty, but getting glitter everywhere can be annoying. Still, some glitter never hurt.

ever watched a play in the theater?  Yeah.

are you naturally blonde? No, I’m naturally a brunette.

do you have a pet rabbit? No.

do you have a pet fish?  No. I had a lot as a kid.

do you have a pet cat?  No.

do you have a pet chicken? No.

best thing that's happened today? Not much as happened, it’s barely going to be 8AM. I need to go to sleep...

opinion on brussel sprouts? Ew.

what color is your country's flag? Red, white, and blue.

are you studying any languages? No. I should really practice my Spanish again.

how many followers do you have on instagram? *shrug* Not a lot.

how about twitter?  *shrug* Not a lot there either. I don’t feel like checking either one right now to get an exact number.

are you brave?  No, I’m weak and scared.

how much would i have to pay you to get you to do karaoke? Gahhh, I don’t know. Getting up in front of people already is panic inducing for me, but then you wanna add singing to it?? Big yikes. I can’t sing, so it’d be humiliating. I don’t drink either, so I wouldn’t even have liquid courage. haha. Although, even when I did used to drink I’ve been to bars at karaoke night and there was no way I was getting up there. Not everyone who went up there and sang were good, but still... 

would you rather watch a movie from home or at the movies?  Can’t go to the movies right now, but when we could I enjoyed going. Some movies I have to experience in theaters the first time, it just makes it so much better. Like movies I’m excited about. And even if it’s not one I’m dying to see but looks good can be something fun to do. There’s some movies where I’m like eh, it looks like it might be good but I can wait until it’s released. 

last time you went ice skating?  Never.

have you cheated on a test? No.

painting or drawing? How about coloring.

art or science?  Neither.

dancing or singing? Neither. I wish I could sing.

history or geography? History. 

favorite season?  Fall and winter.

do you watch supernatural?  Nope. I’ve never even caught some of an episode before. 

if you could change your eye color would you?  Sure, blue or green would be nice.

what color would you change it to? ^^^

what is your religion? Christian. 

are both your ears pierced?  Yes.

[thenewspaperss]

MOCA Mini Small Backpack Daypack for Womens Girls Sequins Mini Small Travelling Outdoor Picnic School College Office Casual Daily use Backpack Rucksack Back Bag for Womens Girls Kids

MOCA Mini Small Backpack Daypack for Womens Girls Sequins Mini Small Travelling Outdoor Picnic School College Office Casual Daily use Backpack Rucksack Back Bag for Womens Girls Kids

Price: [price_with_discount] (as of [price_update_date] – Details)

[ad_1] Feature: 1)Adjustable Button: The length of the shoulder strap can be easily adjusted according to your size. 2)Removable Design: THE CUTE RABBIT EAR BACKPACK is removable. Easy to disassemble and durable. It is fashionable to carry it on your back or on your hands. 3)Metal zipper: The three kinds of backpack are all metal…

[newstechreviews]

Kelly Ferro is a busy mom on her way to the post office: leather mini-backpack, brunet topknot, turquoise pedicure with a matching ombré manicure. A hairdresser from Kenosha, Wis., Ferro didn’t vote in 2016 but has since become a strong supporter of Donald Trump. “Why does the news hate the President so much?” she says. “I went down the rabbit hole. I started doing a lot of research.”

When I ask what she means by research, something shifts. Her voice has the same honey tone as before, and her face is as friendly as ever. But there’s an uncanny flash as she says, “This is where I don’t know what I can say, because what’s integrated into our system, it stems deep. And it has to do with really corrupt, evil, dark things that have been hidden from the public. Child sex trafficking is one of them.”

Ferro may not have even realized it, but she was parroting elements of the QAnon conspiracy theory, a pro-Trump viral delusion that began in 2017 and has spread widely over recent months, migrating from far-right corners of the Internet to infect ordinary voters in the suburbs. Its followers believe President Trump is a hero safeguarding the world from a “deep state” cabal of Satan-worshipping pedophiles, Democratic politicians and Hollywood celebrities who run a global sex-trafficking ring, harvesting the blood of children for life-sustaining chemicals.

None of this is even remotely true. But an alarming number of Americans have been exposed to these wild ideas. There are thousands of QAnon groups and pages on Facebook, with millions of members, according to an internal company document reviewed by NBC News. Dozens of QAnon-friendly candidates have run for Congress, and at least three have won GOP primaries. Trump has called its adherents “people that love our country.”

In more than seven dozen interviews conducted in Wisconsin in early September, from the suburbs around Milwaukee to the scarred streets of Kenosha in the aftermath of the Jacob Blake shooting, about 1 in 5 voters volunteered ideas that veered into the realm of conspiracy theory, ranging from QAnon to the notion that COVID-19 is a hoax. Two women in Ozaukee County calmly informed me that an evil cabal operates tunnels under the U.S. in order to rape and torture children and drink their blood. A Joe Biden supporter near a Kenosha church told me votes don’t matter, because “the elites” will decide the outcome of the election anyway. A woman on a Kenosha street corner explained that Democrats were planning to bring in U.N. troops before the election to prevent a Trump win.

It’s hard to know exactly why people believe what they believe. Some had clearly been exposed to QAnon conspiracy theorists online. Others seemed to be repeating false ideas espoused in Plandemic, a pair of conspiracy videos featuring a discredited former medical researcher that went viral, spreading the notion that COVID-19 is a hoax across social media. (COVID-19 is not a hoax.) When asked where they found their information, almost all these voters were cryptic: “Go online,” one woman said. “Dig deep,” added another. They seemed to share a collective disdain for the mainstream media–a skepticism that has only gotten stronger and deeper since 2016. The truth wasn’t reported, they said, and what was reported wasn’t true.

This matters not just because of what these voters believe but also because of what they don’t. The facts that should anchor a sense of shared reality are meaningless to them; the news developments that might ordinarily inform their vote fall on deaf ears. They will not be swayed by data on coronavirus deaths, they won’t be persuaded by job losses or stock market gains, and they won’t care if Trump called America’s fallen soldiers “losers” or “suckers,” as the Atlantic reported, because they won’t believe it. They are impervious to messaging, advertising or data. They aren’t just infected with conspiracy; they appear to be inoculated against reality.

Sinna NasseriA man in a QAnon shirt appears outside a Trump rally in Tulsa, Okla., on June 20

Democracy relies on an informed and engaged public responding in rational ways to the real-life facts and challenges before us. But a growing number of Americans are untethered from that. “They’re not on the same epistemological grounding, they’re not living in the same worlds,” says Whitney Phillips, a professor at Syracuse who studies online disinformation. “You cannot have a functioning democracy when people are not at the very least occupying the same solar system.”

American politics has always been prone to spasms of conspiracy. The historian Richard Hofstadter famously called it “an arena for angry minds.” In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Americans were convinced that the Masons were an antigovernment conspiracy; populists in the 1890s warned of the “secret cabals” controlling the price of gold; in the 20th century, McCarthyism and the John Birch Society fueled a wave of anti-Communist delusions that animated the right. More recently, Trump helped seed a racist lie that President Barack Obama was not born in the U.S.

As a candidate in 2016, Trump seemed to promote a new wild conspiracy every week, from linking Ted Cruz’s father to the Kennedy assassination to suggesting Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia was murdered. In interviews at Trump rallies that year, I heard voters espouse all manner of delusions: that the government was run by drug cartels; that Obama was a foreign-born Muslim running for a third term; that Hillary Clinton had Vince Foster killed. But after four years of a Trump presidency, the paranoia is no longer relegated to the margins of society. According to the Pew Research Center, 25% of Americans say there is some truth to the conspiracy theory that the COVID-19 pandemic was intentionally planned. (Virologists, global health officials and U.S. intelligence and national-security officials have all dismissed the idea that the pandemic was human-engineered, although Trump Administration officials have said they have not ruled out the possibility that it was the result of an accident in a lab.) In a recent poll of nearly 1,400 people by left-leaning Civiqs/Daily Kos, more than half of Republican respondents believed some part of QAnon: 33% said they believed the conspiracy was “mostly true,” while 26% said “some parts” are true.

Over a week of interviews in early September, I heard baseless conspiracies from ordinary Americans in parking lots and boutiques and strip malls from Racine to Cedarburg to Wauwatosa, Wis. Shaletha Mayfield, a Biden supporter from Racine, says she thinks Trump created COVID-19 and will bring it back again in the fall. Courtney Bjorn, a Kenosha resident who voted for Clinton in 2016 and plans to vote for Biden, lowered her voice as she speculated about the forces behind the destruction in her city. “No rich people lost their buildings,” she says. “Who benefits when neighborhoods burn down?”

But by far the greatest delusions I heard came from voters on the right. More than a third of the Trump supporters I spoke with voiced some kind of conspiratorial thinking. “COVID could have been released by communist China to bring down our economy,” says John Poulos, loading groceries into his car outside Sendik’s grocery store in the Milwaukee suburb of Wauwatosa. “COVID was manufactured,” says Maureen Bloedorn, walking into a Dollar Tree in Kenosha. She did not vote for Trump in 2016 but plans to support him in November, in part because “he sent Obama a bill for all of his vacations he took on the American dime.” This idea was popularized by a fake news story that originated on a satirical website and went viral.

On a cigarette break outside their small business in Ozaukee County, Tina Arthur and Marcella Frank told me they plan to vote for Trump again because they are deeply alarmed by “the cabal.” They’ve heard “numerous reports” that the COVID-19 tents set up in New York and California were actually for children who had been rescued from underground sex-trafficking tunnels.

Arthur and Frank explained they’re not followers of QAnon. Frank says she spends most of her free time researching child sex trafficking, while Arthur adds that she often finds this information on the Russian-owned search engine Yandex. Frank’s eyes fill with tears as she describes what she’s found: children who are being raped and tortured so that “the cabal” can “extract their blood and drink it.” She says Trump has seized the blood on the black market as part of his fight against the cabal. “I think if Biden wins, the world is over, basically,” adds Arthur. “I would honestly try to leave the country. And if that wasn’t an option, I would probably take my children and sit in the garage and turn my car on and it would be over.”

The rise in conspiratorial thinking is the product of several interrelated trends: declining trust in institutions; demise of local news; a social-media environment that makes rumor easy to spread and difficult to debunk; a President who latches onto anything and anyone he thinks will help his political fortunes. It’s also a part of our wiring. “The brain likes crazy,” says Nicco Mele, the former director of Harvard’s Shorenstein Center, who studies the spread of online disinformation and conspiracies. Because of this, experts say, algorithms on platforms like Facebook and YouTube are designed to serve up content that reinforces existing beliefs–learning what users search for and feeding them more and more extreme content in an attempt to keep them on their sites.

All this madness contributes to a political imbalance. On the right, conspiracy theories make Trump voters even more loyal to the President, whom many see as a warrior against enemies in the “deep state.” It also protects him against an October surprise, as no matter what news emerges about Trump, a growing group of U.S. voters simply won’t believe it. On the left, however, conspiracy theories often weaken voters’ allegiance to Biden by making them less likely to trust the voting process. If they believe their votes won’t matter because shadowy elites are pulling the country’s strings, why bother going through the trouble of casting a ballot?

Experts who follow disinformation say nothing will change until Facebook and YouTube shift their business model away from the algorithms that reward conspiracies. “We are not anywhere near peak crazy,” says Mele. Phillips, the professor from Syracuse, agrees that things will get weirder. “We’re in trouble,” she adds. “Words sort of fail to capture what a nightmare scenario this is.”

But to voters like Kelly Ferro, the mass delusion seems more like a mass awakening. Trump “is revealing these things,” she says serenely, gesturing with her turquoise-tipped fingernails. Americans’ “eyes are being opened to the darkness that was once hidden.”

After yoga in the morning, Ferro says, she often spends hours watching videos, immersing herself in a world she believes is bringing her ever closer to the truth. “You can’t stop, because it’s so addicting to have this knowledge of what kind of world we’re living in,” she says. “We’re living in an alternate reality.”

With reporting by Leslie Dickstein and Simmone Shah

[bagswom]

^!@# Rabbit Ears Small Bagpack PU Leather School Backpack Mini Backpack Shoulder Bag https://ift.tt/3aE2OwR

[tripstations]

Virtual Office Building: The Best Travel Tech for Digital Nomads

Do you feel that like you’re always working from the virtual office of your phone, even when you’re not supposed to be working? If you’re one of the 57 percent of workers with a flexible schedule, a non-stop business traveler, or a full-on “digital nomad” (ugh, are we still using that term?), chances are that staying plugged in is sort of a workforce expectation (thanks, free market economy!).

Whether you’re slowly working towards achieving a digitally minimalist lifestyle, genuinely enjoy the frenetic energy of never-not-working, or are just shamelessly addicted to tech like everyone else in the world, you need the right gear to stay connected, organized, and productive. These are the must-haves for the traveler who always needs a virtual office.

Travel Tech Organizers

Cool cases to keep your cords on lockdown

Stow First Class leather tech set

Buy Now

Splurge: If you’d throw hard cash on a luxury wallet or briefcase, why not invest in a travel tech organizer that does both? At $535, the First Class Leather Tech Set from Stow doesn’t run cheap, but you get what you pay for: a premium handcrafted Spanish leather case with enough room for a kindle or iPad mini, smartphone, passport, five credit cards, pen, earbuds, and its included 4000 mAH phone charger and 32GB USB stick.

Affordable: Stash your tech essentials with style (and without killing your budget) by snagging the Brooklyn Tech Envelope from Mark & Graham. Sleek and impressively compact, this leather pouch is somehow manages to hold an iPad, six credit cards, a pen and two cord compartments. Bonus: it’s on sale right now for $89.

BAGSMART Electronic Organizer

Buy Now

Budget: When form matters less than function, it pays to go cheap with this $20 organizer from BAGSMART. Light and durable, this double-layer polyester electronics case features so many mesh pockets and elastic ties that even the IT department dudes can fist bump this. Plus, you can’t beat the front pocket that makes it easy to shove a passport and boarding pass.

Universal Adapters

Stay plugged in regardless of timezone

BESTEK Universal Travel Adapter

Buy Now

Splurge: If your work-from-the-beach lifestyle comes with the caveat of traveling with a full-on virtual office, you’d be smart to invest in a Universal Travel Adapter from BESTEK. The self-proclaimed “BMW of the charging world” features 250W output power, four USB ports and three AC ports for only $39.99.

AGS All-In-One Universal Travel Power Adapter

Buy Now

Affordable: Throw a splash of color in an otherwise uninteresting functional tech product by getting this stylish travel adapter from AGS ($20.99) featuring four USB ports, one 3.0A USB TYPE C and one Universal AC Socket to charge up to six devices.

SLMASK Universal Plug Adapter

Buy Now

Budget: Can’t beat a basic, particularly when it’s only $19.95 and loaded up with four USB ports and one AC outlet so you can charge up to five devices in more than 150 countries.

Lightweight Laptops

Your digital home away from home

Splurge: If you’re already a Mac, there’s no point in reinventing the wheel. And it’s best to invest in the latest release to stretch that primo warranty while you’re on the road (do you really want to deal with finding a specialist when you can barely find a decent WiFi signal?). MacBook Air recently released the extremely light 2.75 pound laptop packed with 16MB RAM, 1 TB SSD storage, and 12 hours of battery life, plus a few new bells and whistles like a flashy rose gold facade and True Tone to its retina display that’s easy on the eyes for $1099.

Affordable: Do you have a Gmail account? Use Drive, Chromecast, or Google.com? Sorry to break it to you but you’re already living the Google lifestyle. So it shouldn’t be hard to adjust to the latest Google Pixel Go that just dropped as part of the Google Pixel 4 launch. For $650, you truly get the most bang for your buck: a 2.3 pound laptop packed with 8GB to 16GB RAM, up to 12 hours of battery life, choice of matte black or “not pink” (it’s pink) facade, and a 1080p webcam.

Budget: If your laptop life consists of sending emails, enjoying weird Twitter feuds, and watching Netflix, just roll with the low cost option: the Acer Chromebook 15. At $349, the price is an actual steal for basic needs using Chrome OS, featuring 4GB memory, 12 hours battery life, and a not-so-terrible weight of 3.97 pounds.

Noise Canceling Headphones

Turn on, tune out

Splurge: The latest Bose Noise Cancelling 700 gets our thumbs up for its balanced sound quality, excellent built-in microphone and noise-cancelling capabilities. With these you can always count on crystal clear acoustics while listening to your favorite tunes or hopping on a call. That said, you will pay handsomely for those features.

Affordable: We try a lot of headphones here at GQ, and this $229 pair of Stennheiser “PXC 550” wireless headphones](https://www.amazon.com/Sennheiser-PXC-550-Wireless-Cancelling/dp/B01E3XLNA0){: rel=nofollow} gets our seal of approval as the best bang for your buck thanks to features like super comfy ear pads, touch-sensitive control pad, and easy auto-pairing.

TaoTronics TT-BH22 Active Noise Canceling Bluetooth Headphones

Buy Now

Budget: Okay, so these $54 bluetooth headphones from TaoTronics won’t deliver the pristine, near celestial quality of more expensive brands. But if you’re not a sound purist, you’ll probably be super impressed by the 45-hour battery life, comfortable ear pads and 6.0 noise-cancelling microphones.

Power Bank and Adapter

You can never have too much juice

Splurge: For the wireless tech maximalist with an Apple Watch, this $59 Anker Wireless Charger offers optimal charging for your cord-free Apple phone and watch life. Along with its super fast 10W two-in-one charging power (compatible with all Qi-enabled phones and devices), it folds up conveniently to save space and double as a nightstand.

EC Technology Portable Charger

Buy Now

Affordable: Are you the kind of person that is always losing shit? This portable charger from EC Technology ($30) comes with a highly visible splash of neon blue or pink, plus a built-in safety flashlight so that you’ll always know where your next charge is. While it has fewer USB ports than the others (three), it gets the job done to charge an iPhone about nine times, iPad Air about two times, and the Samsung Galaxy about five times.

RAVPower 60W 6-port QC 3.0 Quick Charger

Buy Now

Budget: Feel like there’s always something to charge, but never enough USB ports? Have six of them conveniently at your disposal on this tech efficient $19.99 charging station from RAVPower. Its 60W max output power delivery can charge devices up to 50 percent in 30 minutes and have you at full battery power within two hours.

Anti-Theft Tech Backpack

Keep your valuables safely tucked away

Voltaic Systems OffGrid 10 Watt Rapid Solar Backpack Charger

Buy Now

Splurge: Too much tech and not enough charge? Let the sun do the work for you by investing a cool $199 in this OffGrid Solar Backpack from Voltaic Systems. It has all the functionality you expect in a solid backpack (padded sleeve for a 15.6-inch laptop and 10-inch tablet, lots of pockets and and tons of storage), but you’re really paying for the built-in solar panel battery pack that can charge most smartphones using its inclusive USB port within 3.5 hours using the power of the sun (which is free, abundant, and eco-friendly).

Travelon Anti-theft Urban Incognito Backpack

Buy Now

Affordable: If you’re a maximalist tech bro with a minimalist travel style, you’ll probably dig this $79 Anti-Theft Urban Incognito backpack from Travelon. Weighing only 1.65 pounds, this super light polyester backpack features a hidden zipper that opens 180 degrees so that there’s no more rifling down the standard 30-degree opening rabbit hole. Along with stowing all your essentials (including a 15.6-inch laptop), it features slash-resistant body panels, a secret RFID blocking pocket for extra security, and tons of padding so you can tote everything comfortably and safely.

Oscaurt Anti-theft Travel Backpack

Buy Now

Budget: This $31.99 anti-theft backpack from Oscuart must be some kind of magic. How else could it fit so much into 2.3 pound bag beyond a 15.6-inch laptop and travel essentials. Its anti-theft design is filled with secret pockets for hiding valuables, USB charging port for easy access charging, a hidden 180-degree zipper opening, and an EVA material that will protect you and your junk at a price that won’t break the bank.

The post Virtual Office Building: The Best Travel Tech for Digital Nomads appeared first on Tripstations.

from Tripstations https://ift.tt/34FQqrI via IFTTT