#shut up. god. truly the most self centered people on fucking earth

[discountdyke]

im so tired of ppl talking about the horrible burden of being a “gifted kid” mostly bc being labled “gifted” in school is incredibly racially biased. being “gifted” doesn’t actually have that much to do with intelligence, and thinking of yourself as a “higher achiever” than your peers has more to do with looking down on others than actually being pressured into unattainable standards. im sure some people did have to deal with that, but when you are pushed into something that tells you that you (often white) are smarter and more special than your peers (black, latino, indigenous) the real divide is racial. 

it sucks to grow up and find out that higher education/the “real world” are hard for you. doing well on a standardized test in elementary school is not a great indicator for learning later in life. it is frustrating! but sooooooooo many “former gifted kids” cry about their loss of identity of being a “better�� person than their peers and its insufferable. and lets be honest: how many of yall “i was reading on a college level at age 9″ were actually reading college level books? 

the thing is that the american public school system fails us all. it fails smarter students but also the kids that get labeled “lazy” and “stupid”. its easy to say “well those kids probably have learning disabilities or neurodivergencies that went unnoticed” and for many people thats true! but why do people need to justify being stupid to you? whats actually so wrong about not doing well in school, regardless of the reason? maybe you have a learning disability, maybe you have to take care of your siblings or your house and dont have time to focus on schoolwork, maybe you work to help pay your families bills, or maybe you’re just “stupid”! theres nothing wrong with that!

which brings me to my main point which is: being smart doesn’t make you a better person. intelligence is just not that important. do you treat others with kindness and respect? do you work to improve your community in any way? or do you look down on people that don’t meet your personal expectations and treat them poorly? intelligence doesnt build communities. intelligence cant create art, it cant feed and house your unhoused neighbors, it doesnt offer compassion. there is not one single thing about being smart that makes you better than anyone else. start caring about shit that actually matters.

[ghostfacd]

I CAN’T BE WHAT YOU NEED — LUKE HUGHES

— “STOP IT, STOP IT. YOU’RE BEING MEAN, LUKE.”

pairing; slytherin!luke x hufflepuff!fem!reader

summary; was this the end? you surely hope not, you were so sure luke hughes was the one. not just any boy, but the one. so why was he walking away from you right now? especially when you need him the most?

genre; angst, misunderstanding, both reader and luke get hurt, blackcat!bf luke, golden retriever!gf reader, mentioning of house rivalries, you kinda get an inside look into luke’s thinking, this one’s a long one so put on your seatbelt 🤗

✸ SLYTHERIN!LUKE MASTERLIST

part 2

Luke Hughes was a boy of many things. He was stubborn, cold, smart, athletic, and opinionated. But he was no idiot.

Of course he had heard what people said about the two of you, the most unexpected couple at Hogwarts yet. They’d raise their eyebrows whenever the two of you walked, talking in hushed whispers.

“Didn’t you hear? The Hughes boy is dating YN now, we have no chance! He’s scary as shit,”

“Now why on earth is YN with him? She’s so kind and bubbly and he’s just.. him.”

“He’s lucky he has Quidditch going for him, or else nobody would bat an eye at that snake.”

It used to not bother Luke. He knew he was better than them, call him a narcissist or whatever, but he knew it was true. Why would he get upset over some words spoken by idiots with a brain the size of a pea?

But ever since he started dating you, he started to question himself. Was he really better? Or did he only think that way because it was better than thinking he was a total loser?

Luke agreed with Marina when she sang “cause I feel like I’m the worst so I always act like I’m the best” because Luke truly felt like he was a total and complete loser, so he always acted like he was the best Slytherin to exist. Fake it till you make it, right?

Marina was definitely his favorite artist, there was no doubt in the world. And maybe The Smiths too. God, was he really that depressing?

“What are you listening to Lukey boy?” Jack asks as he swings his arm around Luke’s shoulder. “Whoa, you have gotten tall haven’t you?”

“Have you grown shorter?” Luke asks, pretending to gasp in surprise.

Jack hits him on the shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Very funny you punk. How are you and YN? I’ve been so busy with Quidditch that I haven’t been able to see you and Quinn at all.”

“We’re okay,” Luke shrugs, “I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess?”

“I don’t know Jack, is it stupid of me to be insecure?”

Jack stops in his tracks, making Luke stop as well. He turns to face his younger brother fully before giving him a frown.

“What? Of course it’s not stupid, Luke. What have those assholes been saying about you?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Luke sighs. “Do you really think I’m a cold asshole who has an egotistical mindset?”

“First of all, what the fuck is an egoistical mindset?”

“Oh,” Luke grins, “how do I dumb this down for you?”

“Shut up and tell me!”

“They’re basically saying I’m a self centered asshat who thinks way too highly of himself. They think I think I’m better than everyone else.”

“Well, do you think you’re better than everyone else?”

Luke wants to say no, but he doesn’t. Instead he says, “of course I think I’m better than everyone else.”

Jack finally starts walking again, patting the younger on the back, “hey, I’m proud of you little man. Your grades are great, you’re a terrific Slytherin seeker—although Gryffindor is way better by the way!—and you’ve really proved yourself to be a good boyfriend. You have every right to have the ‘egoistical mindset’ those people talk about.”

“I guess,” Luke says quietly, looking down at the ground. He doesn’t see you approaching out of your Herbology class with your partner, Rye Anderson.

“Stop saying I guess,” Jack whines, “anyway, your Hufflepuff is here.”

Luke’s mood brightens when he looks up to see you, but instantly drops when he sees your face light up as you talk to Rye.

What he doesn’t know is that Rye is actually gay, and that he’s literally asking about what he should get his boyfriend next week for their date.

“I’m thinking daisies? Is that too cliche?”

“Never cliche to get your man flowers,” you grin. “Luke always gets me flowers.”

“Yeah whatever, you guys are gross.”

You pretend to gasp offendedly, throwing a small playful punch to Rye’s side.

“Luke, don’t blow up,” Jack says slowly as he watches Luke’s face turn into one of jealousy and anger. He knew that look on his brother all too well. They had lived with each other their entire life up until now.

“Oh please,” Luke says as he starts making his way towards you and Rye, “I never blow up.”

This wasn’t entirely false, but Jack couldn’t stop the angry Slytherin now; he was too far from him. He decided to just watch it all unfold, because well, there hadn’t been any good drama at Hogwarts lately.

“Hi,” Luke introduces himself, towering over Rye and you. “I’m Luke, YN’s boyfriend, and you?”

“Rye,” Rye smirks, “and I’m gay Luke, so no need to get your pants in a twist.”

Well that made Luke totally embarrassed.

“Rye and I were just talking about what he should get his boyfriend next week for their date,” you explain, rubbing your boyfriend’s arm in reassurance. “Shall we go Lu?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles under his breath.

Rye tries to hold in his laugh, mainly because he doesn’t want you or Luke to kill him. He couldn’t believe a tall and scary Slytherin such as Luke was suddenly all quiet and shy when he spoke to you. It was a whole new side of the boy that Rye did not know could even exist in this universe.

“Bye Rye!” You say, hooking your arm to your boyfriend’s as you walk off to his dorm.

“Bye YN! Oh, and bye Luke!”

Luke only waves shortly, not even bothering to turn around to the boy.

“That was embarrassing,” he says as soon as he situates himself on his bed. “Shit, that was really embarrassing.”

“It’s okay Lukey,” you say, taking off your sweater and throwing it somewhere in his room.

You had always left your stuff at his place, which was why when his friends came over, they’d see little hints of yellow lingering in the room.

“No, it’s not.” Luke rubs his face, stressed. “It’s like everything I do is embarrassing or just absolute shit.”

“Whoa, where is this coming from baby?” You ask, running your hands through his curls.

“Why are you even with me? We’re completely different. You’re in Hufflepuff and I’m in Slytherin, our houses don’t even like each other.”

“I’m with you because I love you,” you frown, eyes meeting his with so much sincerity that it makes Luke want to curl up in a ball and bawl. “I don’t care about what our stupid houses think. I told you this when I asked you to go to Hogsmeade with me for the first time, remember Lu?”

He did remember. How could he not? You had suddenly popped up into his life that one day after his game with Gryffindor and became the most important person to him in the blink of an eye.

“I don’t want to be that public anymore,” Luke mumbles. “Can we do less of the whole PDA thing?”

Your heart almost drops, worrying about Luke and your relationship. “If that’s what you want Lu, then of course.”

Luke nods. It would be the best for you two to have a little distance between each other. He mainly wanted to protect you from what everybody was saying, but partly because he couldn’t handle their comments. He had loved you so much, and for them to say that he didn’t deserve you—or that you were too good for him fucking hurt like a bitch.

The next two weeks went by like a drag for both you and Luke. The two of you had barely hung out, Luke always making the same excuse of having extra Quidditch practice, and you not questioning him because you didn’t want to start a fight.

The Yule Ball was coming up, and all your friends had been asked by their boyfriends or crushes. It was just you and Luke left.

He had asked you to meet him by the lake at night. Students were prohibited to go out by themselves at such a late hour, but you and Luke were always careful.

He had asked you with a small poster, one that said, “Oh my god look at that face, you look like my next Yule date,” with the back of the poster saying “YULE BALL?”

It was a reference to one of Taylor Swift’s songs, Blank Space; a muggle song that you had been listening to on repeat that Luke knew would be perfect for the ask.

You of course squealed quietly, not wanting to disrupt the sleeping professors and students. You said yes, jumping into Luke’s arms. For the first time in those 2 weeks, the two of you held each other like it would be the last time you would.

It was.

During the Yule Ball, you had entered with Luke, but couldn’t find the tall curly haired Slytherin anywhere after a few minutes.

You decided to talk to Jamie, another Hufflepuff in your year who you were pretty close to.

Luke, who was all of a sudden sweating at the amount of people in the room had gone off to take a drink of water. He didn’t know why he felt this way; you had looked so pretty in your gown and he was one of the luckiest men in the world getting to escort you and be your date. So why did he feel this way? It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy parties. He liked looking at people go reckless and laugh knowing that it would never be him, and he enjoyed the drinks that were offered.

Which was probably why he was downing a few shots right after his glass of water. He figured alcohol will give him a confidence boost, but it only made him feel worse and gain a headache.

Great, he thinks. It was time to find you.

“YN?” He calls as he pushes through the large crowd of people. He spots you talking to another guy, Jamie, who was also a Hufflepuff.

He almost crushed the cup in his hands when he sees you giggle, throwing your head back as you push Jamie jokingly.

No, he thinks. He wasn’t going to embarrass himself and go over to you angrily like he did with Rye.

Instead, he throws his cup at some random direction, hitting a couple who broke apart from their kiss to yell curses at him. He doesn’t care, all he wants is just to get out of this place and eat his feelings away in his dorm with a Disney movie playing in the background.

“Hey Jamie, I’ll be back, I think I just saw Luke leave,” you say to your friend, frowning as you make your way towards where Luke went off.

“Go get your man sis!”

When you finally see Luke in your vision, you yell out to him. “Lu! Wait up!”

He only walks faster.

“Lu—wait!”

You’re out of breath by the time you finally grab his hand, pulling him back to you. “Lu, why didn’t you stop when I told you to?”

Luke stays quiet, his back facing you.

“Lu, can you at least please face me?”

He finally does, staring at you with his red eyes.

“Oh Lu, what’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. “YN, this isn’t going to work.”

He never calls you YN. It had always been baby, lovely, or even lovie. But never just your name by itself.

“What do you mean Lukey? What’s not gonna work?”

Luke hates how patient and kind you’re being with him. He hates it. Why can’t you just get upset at him? Make this easier for the both of you?

“I mean us. We aren’t going to work,” he takes a sharp inhale, exhaling shakily, “we’re from opposite houses, and everybody says we don’t belong with each other. Our relationship is bound to fail,”

It was as if your boyfriend was suddenly speaking a foreign language. Why was he suddenly saying this? Especially during the Yule Ball? The one night that you two were supposed to be happy together, dancing under the stars.

“Why do you care so much about what they think Luke?” You say, voice quivering from how much you wanted to sob right now, “I told you many times that I don’t—”

“I care!” Luke shouts. He realizes how loud he is the second his words get out. “I care,” he repeats, this time so quiet that if you weren’t in close proximity, you wouldn’t have heard him.

“But you shouldn’t. This is our relationship Luke, not anyone else’s, and especially not those low lives who have nothing else to do but to judge us without even knowing you.”

“Not everybody can be oblivious and carefree like you YN,”

You shake your head. “Stop it, stop it. You’re being mean, Luke.”

This burns through Luke’s chest like wildfire. Sure he’s been called an asshole, even a conceited fuck by a couple of mad Gryffindors after a game, but never mean. And especially never from you.

“I can’t be what you need,” Luke cries. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so emotional. He was never the one to let his emotions get the best of him—his face always set to a blank expression. “They’re right. Aren’t you gonna be sick of having such a boring boyfriend? You deserve so much better. You deserve somebody who isn’t the exact opposite of you, you deserve so much more than me.”

“But I don’t want more,” you now sob, cupping Luke’s face into your hands, “I want you Luke.”

He shakes his head once again, more tears streaming down his face. “It won’t work. Let’s save ourselves the heartbreak and just end it now.”

“No,” you say, hands shaking. “No, I won’t let you end our relationship just because of them.”

“I’m not giving you a choice,” Luke backs away from you, your heart aching at the sudden loss of touch.

“Will you be back?”

“I don’t know,”

He leaves you outside in the dark, sobbing as you fall to your knees, entire body giving out.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” a familiar voice coos as he wraps his arm around your shaking figure. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t okay. You had just lost Luke, the boy who you were sure would be the love of your life until you died.

“Come inside YN, it’s raining.” Jack takes off his coat to place over you, your lips trembling as the two of you make your way back into the halls. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

You didn’t even know where to start.

[psychomoxxie]

Don’t Say You Love Me (Falling For A Psycho Girl)

So if you read the last post, you know i’m just dragging myself by the teeth and unkempt nails out of the dumpster fire that is my so-called “heart”;

I.e., yet another relationship bit the dust. The first one in 4 years. It was new, but i fell hard, because he was different and not an abusive fuck, was super-sweet, and had the brain-cooties too (not like mine, but still), so i could relate to him on a deeper level than most. But turns out, he’s already into someone else, if his FaceBook memes are any indication (which they almost certainly are), which makes me feel incredibly stupid and naive that i didn’t see it coming. He was probably talking to this girl romantically before things ended with us. Which puts things in a whole new light.

 That light being — i am, and i reiterate, incredibly stupid and naive.

 Which brings me to the next bit.

The very next day after things imploded in my face with this guy, a friend – a male friend – talked to me for three hours on the phone to cheer me up, make me feel better about my stupid little heart; and after we hung up, he messages me to confess to me that he’s in love with me.

 Here’s the thing. It’s not that I don’t “love” this guy friend. In as much as I can feel love for him or anybody else. That sort of thing is reserved for a very small pool of people, and I’m not very good at it. Ask anyone who knows me, and they’ll tell you. I will disappear off the face of the earth for weeks at a time, and expect you to be ok with that. I have a hard time being emotionally available for most people.

 My capacity for being In Love with a capital “L” is severely limited, and probably not defined in the way most people think of the word. I’ve experienced real, actual, true Being In Love probably twice in my life. Where it hit me hard, and i was both viscerally and emotionally affected by it, and wanted to put that person’s needs before my own and all that sort of thing, where i felt that gut-wrenching emotion when it ended for whatever reason. Where i felt emotions that had to do with THEM, and not just ME. Not just the selfishness of “romantic love”, which mostly has to do with how that person makes you feel, and less to do with the actual person. But when I did feel it, I felt it all the way. And crawling out of it is certainly no easy feat. In fact, I still love my first True Love — but he died many years ago, so there’s not much I can do about that.

 I’ve certainly developed feelings, even felt love for a couple people I’ve dated — which evolved into true friendships, which I consider to be a type of love that’s different from being In Love, though still very worthy and much more likely to occur in a person’s life multiple times. Those instances of love are the people that i still speak to, despite whatever pain it cost to get us here, because we still actually had a real connection after the romantic bit ended. (The guy in the photo being one of those).

 Of course, the question is, was it genuine Love ™ i felt for the Guy I Fell For if it wasn’t actually reciprocated? If he’s already moved on to someone else, then clearly it was one-sided on my part since i still have feelings, and he clearly does not.

I don’t know. The thing is, I can’t transfer my feelings from one person to the other so quickly. Or at all. Because for me, I rarely feel them to begin with.

 Oh, in the past i’ve felt serious infatuation. When i was younger and unmedicated, i was capable of obsessive infatuation. Of course that ended when that person’s flaws came to the light, or they disappointed me. I see this one’s flaws quite clearly and still have the feelings. I hate it, but there it is. Maybe that’s the problem. For him, it was just infatuation.

 Part of the problem of being a Psycho bitch — like, literally, I have ASPD (Anti-Social Personality Disorder, my secondary diagnosis, and it’s not severe, but it’s significant enough to be problematic. This is the first time I’ve talked about it, because the stigma surrounding it is so fucked up) — is that it’s not easy for me to connect with other people. Not in any genuine way. It’s considered to be, in my and many cases, the result of certain childhood experiences. It’s a fairly common reason for this fairly uncommon disorder. A protection that the brain constructs as a result of physical and psychological trauma. I recognize it, and i try to work on it. It’s not easy.

 Here’s where the Mental Illness Education Bit comes in, folks. Because yeah, we’re doing that now. ASPD is a relatively new diagnosis – or rather, TERM for a diagnosis (in general, and also for Yours Truly), and it’s often interchanged with Sociopathy, which is often interchanged with Psychopathy. It’s not a Mental Illness, per se, but a Personality Disorder. Which might be wrong, for me, since it’s co-morbid with Schizoaffective Disorder which has some symptoms in common, and they gave me my ASPD diagnosis several years ago for what they thought previously was Bipolar – which is fairly obviously not my problem. I don’t have mood swings, per se, but i do have impulsivity, and lack of empathy, and other things that jive with the ASPD diagnosis. Apparently, my being slightly Sociopathic makes more sense. Honestly, i sometimes think they just liked slapping the label on a woman because it’s so rare.

 On the other hand, it does kind of fit, if i’m going to be honest. I’m very good at the whole social mask thing. And i don’t feel things normally – haven’t ever, really.

 I’ve never murdered anyone (yet), but i will certainly admit to having a lack of conscience or empathy where many things are concerned. Or, perhaps just a lack of emotion in general. My psychiatrists say it’s due to severe PTSD and trauma. As is true for many people with the disorder, as i mentioned.

The misapprehension people have, however, is that people with the disorder NEVER connect, or are incapable of it. This isn’t true. When we do connect, it’s definitely genuine and deep. We just don’t do it with many people at all. Mainly this is because we’re basically self-centered and pretty selfish. And not very “nice”. We have to work at it. We aren’t “empaths” or any of that new age crap. We don’t connect with the outside world very easily, or well. We can be manipulative. And in some cases, fairly narcissistic. Definitely overly-logical when being emotionally sympathetic is clearly called for.

 But every once in a while, i really connect with somebody. And when that happens, it’s really not easy to let go. But when i finally decide it’s time that i do, it’s like that person never existed. It’s very black and white. Again, a protective thing my brain does, i suppose.

 And God knows what I did to fuck things up with The Guy I Fell For, because that’s just it — i will do things out of my inability to be empathetic sometimes. Or patient. People will tell me that I’m sweet and kind, but really I admire those qualities in others, and try very hard to emulate them. I think I have those qualities in me sometimes, but I have to work at them. The very few people I do love bring them out in me. But even so, I fuck it up. Often. I didn’t have anything to model it after growing up, you see. So my version of compassion and normal love and affection looks rather like Helen Keller’s version of trying to describe the color blue, I rather suspect, sometimes.

 But, i digress.

So, this friend – we’ll call him The Limey (because oddly enough, he’s also living way the fuck in another country) confesses his love for me, and i realize off the bat that my emotional response is all wrong. The wheels in my head are turning in all the wrong directions. It’s a welcome distraction, and an ego boost, and i latch onto it like a drowning woman for about a day. In some ways, he’s a perfect match for me. We’re good friends. He’s single, a talented musician, whipsmart, witty, kind of an asshole in all the right ways; he’s willing to come right out and tell me how he feels. He’s incredibly attractive, and sexy as Hell. He wants me to leave the damn country with him, for fuck’s sake. All the things i so desperately want. And, yes, i do like him, a lot.

 But do i Love ™ him? No. Which comes into stark relief when he pisses me off by being a jerk to one of my friends – someone i do love (not romantically, but definitely love) and my first reaction is FUCK this Limey. I don’t even give him the benefit of the doubt.

 My emotions are so shut down at this point that i can’t even conceive of giving the Limey a chance. Him, or anyone else for that matter. Because i’m done. I’m done connecting with people for a good while. I have the very few people in my little Universe of Discourse, and that’s all i need.

 Clearly, the point here is that i’m damaged, but i’ve always been. I don’t think it means i need “help”, and i certainly am not asking for sympathy. I’m perfectly aware that i am fucked up. In fact, on one level, i’m happy to know that i’m still capable of falling for someone, as misguided as it may have been, and as hurt as i am from the way it all ended. It shows me that i do, in fact, still have a soul. That i’m capable of actually feeling something real, as opposed to my usual screwing around with abusive men — which is not love, but some weird head game i put myself through out of some need to torture myself.

 Soooo, this post digressed wildly.

 The point IS, i was flattered and moved by this friend’s declaration of love for about 48 hours before he pulled some crap that made me want to beat him over the head with a tire iron, and then i responded in my usual unsympathetic and offhand fashion because that is my default.

I’m fairly convinced at this point that i should just avoid romance altogether. I’m obviously bad at it, i pick the absolute wrong person nearly every single time, and then wonder why i’m miserable. Then i spend the next 3-4 years perfectly happy all by myself, which is just long enough to forget how miserable relationships make me. Rinse, repeat.

 Plus there’s that whole thing where i have to explain that i’ve got the Brain Cooties…or Brain Worms (thanks, Jay, for that new term), which is never a fun conversation; like, “No, dear, i’m not going to knife you in your sleep, and no, i don’t hear voices telling me to roast your spleen with a nice Chianti. At least, not usually. NO, BABE. THAT WAS A JOKE…”

 I just…i can’t.

 If i end up like one of those old ladies with her cats living with her female roommate in the boondocks collecting furballs and molding them into puppets and selling them on Etsy, then so be it. Right now, it seems like the sane choice.

 *photo of me and The Samurai – dear friend and fellow artist

[ephrampettaline]

[ chatzy with @alessafalling, @ephrampettaline, @mayaparker, @rydenbolt, @scarlettxruby, and @thatwhichbindsus ]

A sunken grocery store. Somebody’s first time, another person’s trip back to the town. Six bloods spilled and six bloods combined.

The air had been strange lately, cool and damp like standing by the coal had been. The earth, unforgiving and unwelcoming. Roots weren’t growing, new leaves weren’t budding. There was a corruption slowly settling in like an oil slick over the lake, and Ciara had no idea whether it was that a ley nearby had been drained, or if something more deadly was setting in, or if someone had just cursed her with a sense of malaise. The two gitturns that she’d adopted were settled in the little pouch she’d bought them, so she could keep an eye on them and they could be exposed to the world a little. The vet had said to be careful with them, but that they could cope with this now. Their fur was thickening out and three days ago the white one had opened its eyes. So she took them to the grocery store with her, filled up her trolley with fresh meats for them and fresh veg for her. 

Ciara had almost forgotten her ill ease as she idly pet the dark one, when the fluorescent lights of the store went out. Ciara looked up, and saw only dark blue, and looked around as the shelves dissipated into wrought iron stalls, and the bright plastic wrappers of foods vanished, leaving only old, emptied cans. The light was weak and flickering, and the floor creaked and swayed. 

Swayed? 

There was a layer of water on the floor, slimy and thick, and the floor wasn’t on the ground at all. In fact, there was no ground at all, none for miles. Ciara stepped out of the abandoned, torn up grocery store, and looked up. Up. Up. Glass for a ceiling, with cracks. Above it, at first she thought was the night sky, until a shadow passed overhead, large, long, with a strong tail. A whale. Ciara looked to the side and there were windows there too, and beyond them kelp growing in all directions, illuminated by the light of a dozen underwater skyscrapers. In the windows, she could see shadows moving.

Maya wasn't having a great time. Sleep had pretty well escaped her for the last few nights. Between the mysterious warning that she hadn't quite managed to scrub out of her skin and the couple of things she was already trying to stay on top of, she felt the stress weighting heavily on her shoulders. But she still had to go about her day. Today found her in the grocery store, buying her things for the week. A few more comfort foods than usual were in her cart. She stopped in the middle of the aisle as something strange started to happen. "What the fuck?" Maya asked herself as a layer of water soaked the floor and her shoes. She looked around to see that was not the only thing that had changed. "Is this what you meant by they're coming?" she shouted to no one in particular, "Because I think you could've been a bit more specific."

“Maya?” Ciara called as she spun, reaching into some new, empty ley she could just about feel. Just in case it wasn’t Maya. “Who’s coming?” The little gitturns tittered and trembled against her hand, and Ciara pulled their pouch closer, just in case. Just in case. She was already breathing a little faster, this canned air that didn’t move or didn’t cycle, just creaked. She spotted the other witch with some small relief. Someone to survive this new hell with. Which was good. Someone was coming from a distant tunnel, their feet splashing in water puddles, and their giggles echoing off iron walls. “Can you fight? If we have to?”

Maya turned as she heard someone call her name. "They," she called back, "Because apparently being fucking specific isn't cool anymore." She saw Ciara just after the other witch saw her. Despite not knowing Ciara well, Maya breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn't completely alone. She nodded, "Yeah, I can fight." After a pause she added, "Course I was sort of hoping I wouldn't have to on my trip to the grocery store."

Ephram had been ranging around the town nonstop since the rat king at the decrepit bakery, and then the octo-beast at the dilapidated bowling alley. He found that after having encountered Essie's dust and so much of the mold in the course of duty, and then those two ugly versions of Soapberry places, he could feel his magic itching through him to lead him towards new pocket-worlds that were opening. So the grocery had been his new destination -- but even expecting something bizarre to happen didn't prepare him for being suddenly in an underwater abanadoned supermarket. The familiar voices, at least, were something that held constant. "I'm here too," Ephram called, hefting the golf bag he'd replenished after the bowling alley incident. "Is it only you two so far?" he asked Ciara and Maya, trotting up to stop next to them.

“Did you get a message about th- oh, the mould?” Ciara guessed, although she truly had no idea. “Likewise, but I guess we can’t trust this town at all. Hopefully we just have to find a way out... of here.” It was creaking again. Had Ciara mentioned she hated the creaking? “Ephram? There’s a ley here, you should connect to it,” she said, slipping into a teacher role where she hadn’t for Maya. “Just us. But someone’s coming.”

Ruby had been at the other end of the shopping center - having just finished up taking the statements of a naga couple that had just come from some mad max death race pocket, but seemed to be mostly alright now - and was headed into the store to grab something for lunch when things started to change. At first she thought she was imagining it. The doors slid shut behind her with their usual hissing sound, and she moved to grab a small basket when it cracked beneath her grip, dryrotted. Which was unusual considering the layer of water beneath her boots. She huffed a sharp breath through her nose, spinning around to face the glass doors of the store as the air suddenly became... less. It was tighter, more metallic. And the saltwater ooze of everything else made her cover her nose. "What the fuck..."

The Splicer giggled. “I can heaaaar you. Little rats digging through scraps, but they’re all gone, all gone now!” His sing song voice echoed in the large chambers, although he hardly had enough sentience left to consider himself a he. “You’ll make a fine roast and I can smell the good stuff on you. It’s mine, you hear me? MINE! Ohohoh Im going to be sooo happy when I find you!”

Ephram shook his head when Ciara mentioned a ley line. "From what I seen of these black mold creepy places, I don't reckon I'd wanna try connecting to anythang here," he said, looking around and stepping a little closer to a shelf at the thought of all the water pressure outside of the market. "Do youn's have your magic? Mine works okay. Works fair good against them beasties that seem to be lurking--" He stopped talking when The Splicer's voice started up, echoing even more unsettlingly because of the water surrounding them, and set the golf bag down between them. "By the way? I got weapons."

Maya nodded, "Yeah, I did. Sorry, I got a bit...distracted by some other stuff." She turned again as someone else approached. Her shoulders tensed, ready for a fight if it came to that. She relaxed a little when she realized it was only Ephram. She nodded in agreement with Ciara. "Yeah, just the three of us..." she was about to add so far when two voices interrupted. The first was one she recognized. Ruby. she thought. The second was decidedly foreign. "Yeah, um my dude I am super not delicious. Meat's way too tough on this one," she shouted, fully knowing that it would help whoever that was find them.

What was it with these fucking underwater scenarios?? If Ruby was afraid of one real-world thing, it was being trapped underwater and drowning. The voice that came next raised the hair on the back of Ruby's neck. A low growl rolled in her chest. She didn't know the others were there yet, so she didn't know the message was meant for all of them. It temporarily pushed fear of the water from her head. "You might rethink that once you do." She said of being found.

Though the slight tremor in her voice said otherwise.

”Ooh, a player!” The splicer replied, spinning to the sound of Ruby’s voice, sprinting in her direction with a loose limbed ferocity. The hunt was on, and the splicer was so, so hungry. Everyone walking around here was an empty husk, but not her, not her! “Lay down your bets because you’re going to be mineeee!” He spotted her, pale and dark haired and pretty as a picture, and oh, he was going to fix that.

Essie knew the feeling as soon as she landed in one of these other pocket worlds. Her third one she hunkers down for a moment. Voices down a tunnel to her right, and one echoing over everything. Not wanting to be alone she hopes with all her might the people down to her right were people she knew, or at the very least friendly. She runs down the tunnel and finds a crowd of people, almost running right into the back of Maya. Her hands reaching out to steady herself. Eyes shifting over the crowd she spotted Ephram and his golf bag. What a life she lead that a golf bag was what comforted her the most.

Ephram spotted Essie and jerked his golf bag in her direction. "You still got your rifle?" he asked hopefully. "I mean I brought a couple this time but you should really start jes ... wearin' your rifle around town. God knows I'm strapped all the time now my own self." Hip holsters, shoulder holster, and the baseball bat he favoured.

"Wait," Maya said to Ephram, "You got another gun. I got my safety training when I was fifteen." She could hear the creature sprinting after someone else trapped in the grocery store. And she was pretty sure it was Ruby. Even now though she wasn't stupid enough to go after it emptyhanded.

The voice came again, and there was movement to accompany it. Ruby turned to see ... something... sprinting all long limbs and manic speed towards her. She knew better than to run. She /wouldn't/ run. Even if she had no idea what would happen if it caught her. But Ruby had her pistol, and the katana Dani had given her (that she'd also started carrying since all this shit started going down). There was no way she was risking a stray bullet with all this glass. Heart beating out of her chest, she pulled the sword from it's charmed sheath across her back - made to look smaller than it was - and when the creature was close enough, she let the blade arch towards it, spinning to the side as she aimed for something vital.

Ephram hauled one of the rifles out of his bag and handed it to Maya, passing her a fanny pack of ammo along with it. "Sorry bout the thing," he said, gesturing at the Glee fanny pack. "Was all I had handy when I was kitting out this here golf bag."

“Suit yourself,” Ciara replied to Ephram with a shrug, although in the back of her mind, she thought that she could have used a battery. “Why do you have weapons? Did you come to the grocery store for a fight?” The white gitturn then decided to jump out of its pouch, and scrabbled up Ciara’s sleeve to her neck with a strength she didn’t know these babies had, and snarled at the hall before burying itself in her hair. And then there were four of them. “Wait, no guns. Do you want to drown?”

Essie nodded digging in the pocket of the golf bag she remembered the ammunition being in. "Had to start carrying it after my second trip into these places." she admits. "Not that I had any ammo, just hoped the sight would distract something. Relying much more on dust." Her head bouncing up to look at the unfamiliar woman in the group then at Ephram, much more likely to listen to her boss than anyone else.

Maya took the gun from Ephram and the fanny pack too. It took her a second to even realize what he was even apologizing for. "Honestly, like, whatever. Ammo's ammo." With that, she ignored the subtle loyalty dynamics and headed towards the sound of the creature and possible a sword. She skidded to a halt at the end of the aisle and raised the weapon, ready to fire.

Ephram gave Ciara a considering look when she objected to the guns. "Reckon the survival situation at the moment calls for whatever weapons we got handy," he said coolly, all traces of his more obedient student persona gone. "Don't worry. I'm sure them other two are good shots." The implication, of course, being that there was no chance at /all/ that Ephram himself might cause a stray bullet to shatter the glass. He looked in the direction that Maya had headed off. "Was she tryin' to call that talkin' beast down on somebody just now?"

The Splicer: She wasn’t scared. How charming, it would leave her all tender inside nice and gooey and juices and precoated in salt and sass already. What a treat! The splicer charged without abandon, swing a wrench he had found in his best friend’s head (or maybe he had left it there, he was oh so forgetful, wasn’t it charming?). And then she sliced right through his arm, and it flopped on the floor for a second, up and down, like a fish gasping for air. “That wasn’t very nice, play fair and die already!” He sang, and leapt again.

As the creature popped back up, Maya fired. It was an easy shot, all things considered. Only after she fired though did Ciara's words fully sink in. /Did they want to drown?" They were underwater. She made a mental note of that so that she would be careful with any shots she made next.

Essie considers their surroundings and the fact she can't swim. She didn't trust her shot as much as the other two did, watching Maya charge recklessly away from the pack she reconsiders. She doesn't discard the rifle, simply swings it behind her onto her back. Dust had been here only hope the last time, so she figured why mess with it. She'd figured out exactly how useful her limited Glamour could be. The shot from down the tunnel had Essie turn and brace herself.

Oh, Ruby was scared all right. Terrified. But she wasn't about to get eaten by some fucking monster movie reject. So when the sword met heavy, wet flesh, followed by the spray of dark, thick blood and an equally wet, fleshy flopping sound, Ruby knew she'd made a hit. When the gunshot rang out as the creature righted itself, Ruby flinched, not expecting it. She spun, momentarily distracted, to see Maya standing there with a gun. "No fucking bullets!! We'll drown!" she yelled. But that was all she could say before the creature was screeching at her again and launching itself in the air. It was fast. And close. Ruby swung again, but she misjudged the distance and was sent sprawling through water, blood-soaked mess on the floor. She shoved a hand against the creatures' throat while the other scrabbled for the sword that had slid somewhere into the dark. "Fuck... off!" she grunted, giving up on the sword and swinging at the creature's jaw.

Ciara didn’t even raise an eyebrow as Maya and Essie deferred to Ephram, because he was he sherif and authority and all that and whatever, but she did at Ephram, sinking back into a cool, cruel persona that had served her all too well on a different battlefield. The gitturn by her ear tittered, staring at Ephram too. But then Maya was off, chasing a shadow, a half being at this point, barely a man at all. His skin was so pale it was nearly translucent, starved of sunlight here and ashy, so much his skin almost had a blue tinge to it. It bled, but it had no heartbeat, not one that one could survive on. Maybe she’d just leave it to the sherif, but a gun fired and Ciara didn’t doubt that Maya was a better shot than Ciara herself, except it echoed like a bullwhip, all the way up and down the tunnels and this hallowed hall. And when everything finished ringing, there were more voices. Giggles and yells and cries and screams. A figure appeared at the bottom of the hall. Ciara tore its throat out.

Magic, good or bad sort, worked within a certain spectrum of rules. Crazy, mostly unfair, seemingly unpredictable and somewhat bendable but still rules you could single out, analyze and utilize the way you see fit or the way whatever personal limits allow you to. There are very few exceptions to that. But once in a lifetime, there comes an agonizingly stubborn knucklehead whose persistence to butt into things he had no business, knowledge or brains enough to deal with that rules just take one good, scrutinizing glance at him and say fuck it, we give up. Give him a complimentary bag of peanuts and a one-way ticket to doomed as fuck then send him on his way, cause that's where he's headin' and there's no stopping him. 

Ryden's one way ticket had been for a month-long surf-around through places a less magically equipped supernatural should not step into. Well, the time-space parallel dimensions spin-dry he's been through told him it's been a couple of hours, not a month. He'll figure it out by piles of dust piled on top of old piles of dust he never cleaned on his floor in Rein's house. Right now, it felt like a couple of hours of beating through a beehive of abominations too ugly to love even if you were their momma. He was dragging one behind him by one of it's seven legs, two of which he'd pulled out himself, when the terrifying, toasty hell-like mood of the pocket universe he last rolled through turned into something Aquaman might call his secret, creepy hideout where he sometimes jacks off. "Fuck me runnin'..." He muttered, letting go of the creature he'd savagely murdered for threatening to do even worse things to him, and rounder a corner, not even trying to get the gooey, slimy liquid those things had instead of blood off himself. He was already drenched with it beyond spitting on your thumb and rubbing it off. By the commotion he was hearing ahead, he was pretty sure more nasty things awaited him. 

Not even registering what it was assaulting nor what it was exactly, Ryden approached the creature ahead of him, while it was unaware in its attempts to feed on very possibly someone who'd been thrust in here by chance just like he was. A large hand grabbed at its bald scull, digging into brittle bone and ash-grey skin. He picked it up easily and tossed it aside like a rag, off Ruby and a good few feet away from the group..

The Splicer laughed and laughed and laughed and he scrabbled for her, scratching her, gouging her, trying to bite her. He - It - writhed against her hand, struggling, squirming, too keen and too hungry to care as the life was squeezing out of him. But then something tore through him, hot and cold as liquid nitrogen. He fell, turned, faced the girl that had shot at him. “Ooooh eeh heee her. I likes you! You’re a cheater! Dirty filthy little cheater! You’re going to pay for it, that’s right, but-“ and then he died, because Maya was indeed a good shot.

Maya heard the giggling down the hallway. "Okay, no guns," she finally agreed. She picked up the nearest thing off the shelf, a can of beans and got ready to throw it. Luckily, it seemed to slump over less than a second before Ryden appeared and tossed it aside like a rag doll. She had to grin at him "Ryden," she said in little more than an exhale. She turned to the others, "I think we've got more company. Sorry about that."

Ephram returned Ciara's look for a moment, his own eyes narrowing slightly before he gave a terse nod and drew his revolvers. She pulled the throat out from one of the new throng of creatures between one breath and the other, and Ephram banged together the bases of his revolver grips, silver-green magic spiking through them into the barrels. He stayed with Ciara and her gitturn -- the little creature still watching him suspiciously from behind her hair -- and shot at the emerging creatures with their sick giggles, bullets of spinning green magic that unerringly found their targets. "You dropped into any of these weirdsmobile realities yet or is this your first?" he shouted to Ciara over the increasing din. "That's why I been carryin' round them weapons. They keep poppin' up all over town."

Ruby could feel the deep rends in her flesh where the creature gouged her open. Her blood mixed with the rest of the mess on the floor, steaming hot as it ran from her wounds. She dug her fingers into the soft flesh of the creatures neck, squeezing until she heard cartilage pop and break and grind, and then it just... stopped. It was gone, and Ruby could breath. She lay there for a brief second, grimacing at the deep rends in her shoulder and stomach, before seeing Ryden standing over her. "God save the fucking Queen am I glad to see you," she told him as she pushed to her feet.

"Maya? The fuck ya doin' 'ere?" She was someone he'd least expected here. Or anywhere. Looking beyond her, he saw more faces he could recognize. "What's going on?" Looking down, he saw that the person creature was trying to nibble on was actually Ruby. "Shit, you a'ight?" He reached down to pull her up, knowing that her werewolf healing would take care of the rest. Ahead, he glanced at the rush of staggering, giggling monstrosities advancing forth at them. "Can't it just, like, for once, be a land of sparkles, polite leprechauns and unicorns? Naw?"

Retrieving her sword and wiping the gore off on her jeans - not that it did much good - after Ryden helped her up, Ruby rolled her shoulder as it slowly started to heal. "Yeah. You know me. I can take a punch," she said to her friend. "You good?" She looked at Maya and asked the same thing. But then the sounds came, and Ruby's attention turned with the rest. "Always another fucking shit show..." Ruby moved with the others next to Ephram and Ciara, unsure if she should fire her gun or not. She was a good shot, but her bullets weren't spelled like Ephram's. She could miss and then... well, they'd drown.

"I needed groceries?," Maya replied. She looked back towards the others as far as an answer for what was going on. She had an ominous warning. One that was getting clearer by the minute, but didn't yet explain all this. She turned back when she heard Ryden asking Ruby if she was okay. It was a question she wanted to hear the answer to. "Not to be a complete asshole by the way," she added mostly to Ruby, "But I am like 85% sure I actually killed it, so that God save the Queen should be directed at me." She was about to answer Ruby's other question when the rest of their company's arrival drew her attention.

“Six of us, three entries. Let’s stay close.” Ciara ignored Maya’s apology, focused on nothing but the creaking floor and the creatures headed their way. “First,” was all she said to Ephram, as the gitturn chirped and drew her attention to her left, shattering a heart there. The nausea was coming back - Ephram was right about these Leys. The world was shrinking down to a fight, a need to win, and damn the consequences to her soul as she stained the water they were standing in red, dropping four bodies in quick concession. It didn’t matter. Again. There were dozens.

"Yeah but the point is to NOT let 'um punch ya. Yer just a bag for it then." Ryden snorted, stepping up with Ruby. "Where'd ya get the fuckin' kitchen knife ya got there? In an anime?" Raising an eyebrow at Maya, he couldn't skip on a challenge to be the better one even when it was pointless. "Ya squirted a metal ball at it. I bashed its brains in. Let's do the autopsy later. I'll give ya a cookie if it's your kill." Looking back at Ephram's gun out and aimed he cringed. "Should we have guns out here? Anyone smart enough to consider that's maybe a no, cause..." He waved his hand in a general direction of... everywhere.

Essie balled her fists from her spot beside Ephram. She wasn't as good a shot as the others but she could do her best to be useful. She threw a handful of dust towards an open tunnel entrance the dust caught fire at her glamour and she looks back at the others. "Can we maybe fight about kills LATER."

Ephram glanced down at the reddening pool at their feet, leaning hard into Ciara so he could mutter closely in her ear, "--I'm in good shape right now and me and Essie got healing abilities that work in these places. If you need blood that ain't fucked up like I'm guessin' is in these critters, you don't need to ask." But Ciara knew her own magic, so Ephram felt he only needed to make the offer once. He took note of Ruby and Ryden returning with Maya, not bothering to address the question of his guns and instead saying, "these fuckers seem a sight smarter'n the monsters Essie and me faced off in them other pocket worlds. Seems to me it might be best for us to split and stopper up wherever they might be streamin' in here from, unless we wanna end up as the cheese in the worst fuckin' game of Farmer in the Dell ever."

"True," Ruby said to Ryden. "And I'll tell ya later," she said of the sword. She managed a tiny smirk - which was more a grimace - towards Maya, but the crowd of creatures in the hallway was growing, and while Ephram and Ciara were making a dent, it was refilling over and over. One made it past, screeching and lurching towards them. Ruby took it's head off with her sword. Another broke through, fell in the water, and she crushed it's skull beneath her boot. "We're runnin' out of opttions," she said to everyone else. "Is there a way outta here?"

"How 'bout I stay back here and out of ya'lls way and fight o'er YER kills t'pass time cause it looks to me like yer all handlin' it well." Ryden said, as the advancing mob of zombies wobbled their way at them. He leaned against a glass wall, right over one of the cracks spreading like spiderweb over them. He was tired and he had somewhat figured out how this pocket world travel works here. Which means that they might get spit out somewhere else anytime now. If they didn't, he was ready, tired from his own previous quest as he was.

"I hope you mean the kind of cookie I think you mean," Maya shot back at Ryden with a shit eating grin. She turned though to look at all the new arrivals. There were too many. The water around their feet was already red with blood. She dropped the rifle in her hands. A second later, it landed with a dull splash. "Fuck," she muttered. She shook her head. "I'm out guys. I can make sure you all get out, but I'm fucking done," she confessed. It was like a switch turning off, something she couldn't explain.

Essie stared at them incredulously. "You're just done? Shit is trying to fucking eat us." she couldn't believe it. Throwing another handful of dust, this time onto an oncoming figure to then burst into flame.

Ruby glanced at Maya as she dropped the rifle. She didn't know if one could actually die in these places, but Ruby wasn't about to take that chance. "Get her," Ruby said to Ryden before turning back to the oncoming hoarde. "Split up where?" she asked Ephram. "If I shift, I might be able to lure most of them down another way...."

Ephram was embroiled in shooting at creatures who were crawling and scrabbling and leaping towards them, but Essie's comment made him guffaw out loud anyhow.

Ephram said to Ruby's idea, "Take Ryden with you. I dunno how much help Maya's gonna be, maybe leave her here for Essie to sort out." He wasn't sure what was up with Maya once she dropped the gun and started talking about making sure they'd all get out, but it didn't sound like she was coping well, whatever it was.

Not batting an eyelash when Ruby pointed out Maya's distress, he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back. "Stay behind me, cupcake, and hold that cookie I promised." There was no way Ryden would willingly move himself up front where he'd be most effective for anyone, because he'd easily be in line of Ephram and Ciara's fire and the wicked fairy dust fireballs Esse was throwing. But for Maya and her safety, he was willing to risk friendly fire. "Fuck that, we ain't splittin' up. You even watch horror?" With sickening crack of bones and muscle, Ryden was doing that neat little werewolf party trick unique to him - muscles in his arms bulged and sharp claws sprouted out of his fingertips. He now had a jaw full of too many teeth for a human. He stepped out of the front line of shooters with a leap, claws aiming and shredding at random but efficiently.

“If it comes down to it, I won’t ask,” Ciara replied quietly. If it came to it, it would just be like the first time they had met. She’d sacrifice him at her altar with only barely a second thought. “Stopper them, then drown them. Some of the doors hermetically seal. Like a sub.” Her gaze flicked to Maya, and saw the deadness Ciara felt already.

Ephram lifted his guns as Ryden leapt in front of them, growling in aggravation, "I'm watchin' a fuckin' horror right now! Get the fuck out my way, Bolt!" But it was pretty damn obvious that wasn't going to happen, so Ephram swore a blue streak and told Ciara, "Fine, but watch my back and make sure these un's don't git shredded." The way that Ryden was dealing with the creeping pale people ahead of them. So Ephram used it to his advantage: with Ryden flinging ribbons of meat and blood, Ephram dodged and darted behind him as if the wolf was an ambulance, the two of them steadily making their way to one of the door seams where -- hopefully -- there'd be some sort of mechanism to seal the place.

Maya stumbled as Ryden pulled her backwards. "No" she started to argue. It didn't matter. Didn't they all understand it didn't matter? She swallowed a shout as Ryden jumped in front of everyone. Her heart thudded in her chest. There was a moment as she looked around at everyone else where something like life flickered in her eyes. It was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. They were still fighting. They were going to get hurt and all for nothing. With dead eyes, Maya picked up the rifle again. It was almost robotic the way she fired. Each shot hit with almost perfect precision as Ryden and Ephram advanced. But it wasn't Maya anymore, not really. It was a version of her that knew only how to survive. The moment the threat was no longer imminent, it would crumble like dust.

Essie had stopper and drown repeating in her head. She could potentially blow a bigger hole than a bullet hole with her dust she'd just need to be at the front when they found doors that could close. Not that the idea enticed her any. But she voiced this to anyone who could hear her as she followed down the tube, walking backwards to keep an eye behind them. "I can firecracker my dust, blow a hole when you get the doors closing."

Ryden was practically tossing the creatures out of the way, his breaking through forceful, messy and stomach-churning, elbows-deep into dead bodies and their insides, ripping limbs, organs and skin with bare, clawed hands. What he missed, others would easily take down as they drew closer to what might be their salvation.

Ruby wasn't keen on leaving Maya behind for her to 'maybe' be sorted out. So when Ryden pulled their shell shocked friend behind him, Ruby let out a breath. She knew Ryden would keep Maya safe above everything else. But that meant she couldn't be a decoy. So as Ryden did his shifting trick, Ruby heard Ciara over the din. "How do we get the doors to work?" Ruby asked. "If we kill enough of them, they'll block themselves in. At least for a bit." 

But then Ephram was already moving in behind Ryden, headed that way. That left Ruby and Ciara and Essie. Ruby's shoulder was starting to ache fiercely, her swings growing weaker. She needed to shift so she could heal, if nothing else. Or she was a liability. Trusting that she would retain enough of her human mind with a voluntary shift, Ruby shoved her sword into the duffel bag that lay nearby, striipping her boots and clothes in quick succession before she let the wolf have her. Bones cracked and limbs lengthened, dark hair turned white and blue eyes bled crimson until a huge white wolf had taken her place. It shook itself, still covered in the same blood as Ruby, and lifted it's nose into the air. She could smell The Other ahead of her, and more that were familiar. It didn't take long for her jaws to find flesh. One great shake and a spine snapped before being tossed aside.

Ephram heard the familiar flap of fairy wings behind him and Ryden, and when Essie voiced her plan he was intensely glad that she /had/ followed them. "Git ready, then," he barked back at her, to be heard through the schripping of Ryden's claws and the screams of the creatures. "Build up enough dust so's you can blow a hole big enough for a goddamn hearse to drive through, and I'll take care of findin' the sealing mechanism." Because she was right; his bullets were good against the creatures, but the kind of hole they'd need to blow required dust and plenty of it.

Maya twisted as something caught her shoulder. She didn't go down though. Instead, she used its own momentum against it. In complete survival mode, she found its head and yanked. A sickening snap echoed in her ears. She scrambled again to her feet, blood dripping from her shoulder. She glanced up at Essie and nodded. Whatever the fairy needed her to do to help, she was ready.

Essie spares a hand, reaching out and touching Mayas shoulder with just a hint of healing, she couldn't spare much but a little was worth something at least. But she lets her wings lift her up off the ground, concentrating on generating a mass of dust rather than focusing on not tripping over the carnage on the ground. She might not be taking anything dangerous out while they moved, but she was trying her best to provide as much use as she could.

They were reaching the door that was Ryden’s goal. Kind of like one of those round, hermetically sealed submarine passages. Ryden had tossed one of the zombified creatures right at it, where it was full-body slammed and had its spine broken. Ryden reached those doors right after it but there would be no good in breaking the hatch, which he could definitely do - they needed it closed after. "Little help 'ere??" He asked, speech impaired by the Cheshire grin of sharp teeth and protruding canines.

The wolf-Ruby pushed forwards when needed, pulling back when necessary only to surge towards the monsters again when there was an opening. The corridor was quicklly filling up, and anything not dead from Ryden's hands or otherwise, she crushed it's skull with her teeth, making sure it didnt' move again. Her muzzle and chest and legs were stained red with gore, but Ruby kept going with the others. Biting and crushing and smashing her way through.

A fighter, a healer, a maker, a leader, and... Wasn’t Ruby human?? Not anymore, it seemed, but it would still work, an idea in Ciara’s mind. They needed the door closed. They needed to reach the door. The floor was slick and slippy and covered in corpses - each time they killed they made their own progression harder. They were under the sea. Sea with currents and waves and movement, and blood had that all too. She had the consent of two. That would have to do. 

In six people at once, the back of their wrists split open, spilling blood into midair that flowed into Ciara’s hands like a current, flowing and twisting and pumping, a six fold circulatory system. Magic like this had a cost, and they would just have to find out what that was. Once they’d survived. The blood curled into crystals And then into one. Ciara twisted the threads of ley magic into a whole new shape, instinct and confidence pouring into one, something new and something old, and something that would have to do. Ciara carved it and sculpted it like wood on her bench, like clay, like ice, and found a word that suited. She dropped the crystal to the ground, and spoke. 

“Clot.” 

All that bloody water surged around her, up, up, up, like a wave, and left those that she wanted untouched - the blood she had taken from them made each immune to her spell. The water pulsed and pumped, and picked up each body in turn, splicer and dead alike. Except it wasn’t picking them up - they were becoming part of the wave, like blood pouring out of a split artery and picking part of the pulsing, pumping mass. It was imperfect - all new spells were - too many had been left unscathed as well, confused if not for long. But others were gluing up behind the door, struggling. They were platelets to a wound, and now they were sealing, like a scab. The ley was quickly draining, and so was her connection to it. This would not last.

Maya stood for half a second in awe. The thought of pain in her wrist didn't occur to her. But she knew magic. It shook her out of awe quickly. "The door!" she shouted, "Someone hit the door." But she was holding a gun. Even as she said it, Maya raised the rifle and aimed. She fired into the door's control panel in a very Han Solo move. It crackled and fizzled before sliding closed. Maya dropped the rifle again, breathing heavily.

Ciara didn’t see the door close. One dozen, two dozen of them left, at least one was making its way over to her. Ciara raised a hand to do something, and instead... dropped to the floor, as two gitturns squeaked.

Ephram had been half-expecting Ciara to dip into her blood magic, but he hadn't for a moment thought it would look like this. Bodies and not-quite-corpses being picked up and dancing like puppets in a pusing wave to clot and seal up the entranceway that he, Ryden, and Essie had been making their ways towards, and Ruby too, from the sound of it. But before they could reach and put their plan into action, there was a rifle shot from behind them. The panel exploded and the door shut, and that was that. Problem solved.

Ciara, though, collapsed into the bleeding water below her feet, so Ephram turned his attention from where it was no longer required and ran back to the witch, dropping down to pull her from the filthy puddle. The gitterns chittered, angry or scared or both.

"C'mon, git the gross blood lady up and git in. Go go go GO!" Ryden hurried them along, having pulled the door open after Maya shot at the panel.

Essie yelped in pain at the cut on the back of her wrist forming, tears in her eyes involuntarily at the pain. Maya raised her gun to shoot and Essie -who'd almost dropped her growing ball of dust- lurched forward in a moment of panic but the door was closed too quickly. So much for drowning them. She turns her attention to something else she could potentially do with it. "A healing touch?" she offers unsure whether it would do any good running to the unknown womans side.

Maya nodded towards Ryden. They should get out of here while they still could. She half turned to Essie at her offer, "Ciara." She nodded towards Ciara for Essie's benefit before she looked for Ruby. She needed to make sure that the wolf got out with them safely. She wiped her face, finding it wet with saltwater.

Ruby barely felt the slice in her own leg/wrist as Ciara worked her spell. All she knew was that the air hummed with blood and magic and gore. The wolf knew what magic felt like, when it was dangerous and malintended, but other than that, she knew only that whatever the blood witch had done, it seemed to have worked. The other were further up the tunnel than her, so Ruby turned back when the door shut under the rifle blast. She saw the witch collapse, saw Ephram run over, and saw the lurch of another creature nearby by. 

Growling and snapping, Ruby leapt at the creature, who screamed and railed at her, clawing and biting before Ruby could close her jaws around its slick flesh. There was a sickening crunch, and the creature went limp. Ruby shook her head, tearing thecreatures throat out for good measure. She turned to the others as Ryden called out, lingering in the back but following close as the others moved ahead. She didn't want to be left behind.

Ruby wuffled at the nearly unconscious witch as Ephram dragged her up, giving the chattering furries a passive glance but not caring enough about them to linger. ~GO.~ she thought to the others. ~GO NOW. They are coming.~

Ephram made sure to scoop the little gitturns up, not at the moment caring if they bit him or whatever; into his rescued golf bag they went, as he toted it and Ciara down the passageway. "If this is anythang like them other fucked-up mold places," he huffed as they hustled, "now that we squashed a bunch of them monsters it's like that we's gonna--" And that was as far as he got, this time. Suddenly, Ephram ran himself, Ciara, the gitturns, and his golf bag full of weapons into a stacked display of yum-yum pickles, knocking everything over in a resounding and vinegary crash over the floor of the regular world version of the supermarket.

Essie watched the sheriff vanish as he had done before and gave a firm nod. She'd seen this before. "Some of us are gonna vanish outta nowhe-" and there she went. That tugging in her gut and she overbalanced and landed on her ass in a pile of pickles. Blinking in the new electronic lighting of the market she looks shakes her head, getting up quick. She needed to get home ...covered head to tow in guts /again/.

[blaperile]

Homestuck Epilogues - Meat - Page 13 (Epilogue 2 Page 5)

[elly-bird]

Dear loyal and foolish followers,

It’s been a while since I did a really deeply personal post, and I used to do them all the time.  Granted, back then, they were mostly venting, or trying to somehow work out my feelings on really deep and painful things.  Whether or not you realize this, dear tumblr audience - friends and strangers alike - you actually helped me a great deal learn about who I am and what I’m doing.

So let’s do a recap.  Once more for the sake of closure, for anyone who still cares, or anyone who did care back then, when I needed it most.

It’s taken me literally all my life to shake off the urge to turn inward.  I’m (almost) twenty four years old and still have trouble even vocalizing the idea that I’ve had a bad day, let alone that I’m suffering from a disability, or struggling to consider myself as a real person.  Yes, my dysfunction was so bad at a point (not especially far back, even) that I literally could not convince myself I was real.  I spent so many days floating place to place, just conducting the bare minimum to survive and not be noticed as some parasitic little ghostial entity.

So it was that I fell into not just hateful, twisted spirals that consumed my entire being, but friendships and relationships that did me equally as many unhealthy favors.  This is when I was the most vocal, because I realized how dire and awful things were getting.  It was speak now, or forever hold my silence, and at that point forever didn’t seem like it was going to last very long.

Coming to terms with the fact that I’ve been conducting self-harm and sabotage all my life - not necessarily physically, but mentally, and spiritually - was one of the biggest hurdles to leap over.  You can’t possibly treat yourself correctly when you’re utterly convinced the world hates you and would be better off without you, even if you’re not willing to nail the coffin yourself.

I never let myself have respect, or love, or care, or even basic decency.  It was always thrown with weighted chains, ones I applied myself and used to justify my shitty mindset.  I validated my attitude by saying the world was a spiteful place, and I was its target.  I got angry a lot, because anger was easier to feel than any other emotion, and I genuinely think that was my first attempt at pulling myself out of a very dark pit of depression.

I started to try and identify all these flaws and issues, but I could only see them in other people, not myself.  I started a blog, one where I offered positivity and support to every single person who so much as touched it.  I put all my time and energy into offering other people consolations for their sorrows, and trying my best to find them help, and support, in what I viewed as a meaningless, dead void of a world.  This actually became kind of popular; six thousand followers kind of popular.  It wasn’t long before I was putting almost every waking hour of my life into trying to guide people towards the light in life that I’d clearly shut the curtains on.

And then came my biggest shame; I couldn’t do it anymore.

I deleted it.  I packed up.  I went home.  I isolated.

It’s a funny feeling, realizing that you’re no longer strong enough to help anyone.  I was hardly equipped to in the first place, but having to get rid of that last little thing I could hold onto - that self-imposed job that I pointed at so often to say “look, look, things are good, I swear!” - honestly almost killed me.  The pain I felt made me realize I needed help.

And I’d like to say I got it, but...  I didn’t.  Something I’d so seriously recommended to everyone around me seemed entirely out of reach for myself.

You may have noticed I dipped my toes back into the positivity, though, even on this lonely little blog where only my close friends and some very lovable but potentially naive strangers visit.  That’s sort of where this all went.

Realizations that I’d been making progress came incredibly slow.  I tried my best to invert my views.  I wasn’t “wasting so much time I lost my childhood,” I was surviving and getting past the worst years of my life.  I wasn’t “worthless,” I just hadn’t even started to try.  Certainly, finding my own little self-diagnosises helped put a center to my storm, but I was still struggling.

Sparing you the details on my situation, I did the math and realized it would be quite a few more years before I was in any situation to get help, or live independently, or so forth.

And it was nihilism that hit me the hardest.  What the fuck?  How could it possibly be fair that I’d be rapidly approaching my 30s before I ever even saw a doctor?  What the hell is wrong with me that I’d rather live a stagnant, stale existence than even try to live?!

Thus I bring you very close to the present.

Where I decided I wasn’t going to accept that.

I got angry again, but this time it was at these unspoken rules, and restrictions that I’d lived under all my life - some imposed by my own shitty brain and some by the culture and pressures surrounding me.  I stopped giving a god damn shit what would be okay, what would be acceptable, what would be the least offensive and quietest way to live my life.

I dyed my fucking hair.  I wore bright colours.  I flirted with boys.  I fought, very literally, for my trans and non-binary friends.  I got loud, and proud, and anyone who didn’t accept the kind of love and understanding I wanted to spread got called a god damn idiot, because you know what, you are a god damn idiot if you think living, breathing, thinking, feeling humans whose only urge is to live in harmony with one another aren’t worth care.

And I started making more decisions.

Decisions like the one to welcome friends I’d constantly left on the outside into my reality.  Decisions like accepting that it was okay to openly identify as something that would be disagreeable in my town/state/family.   Decisions to accept the love, and care, and wholesome understanding that came with meeting someone whose world rhymed with mine.

Decisions to fight back.  Against the cruel side of my brain, and against the cruel side of the world.

Because it wasn’t a matter of never having a family that would accept me.  In actuality, I had a family that was willing to walk to the ends of the earth for me the whole time.  I’d stood so separate, and so far apart for them all my life out of fear for my own treatment that I’d forgotten that we’re all blessed with the very real, and very honest opportunity to make the world just a little, tiny bit better for everyone.

I lost track of who I was because I was so concerned with standing up on my own two feet, I never realized that so many beautiful people were all around me waiting to help me up if only I just accepted that.

I know now what I wish I’d known then; that in order to experience love and understanding, you have to open yourself to it.  Sometimes it’s easy, like leaving the door unlocked, but other times you’ve got to rip through scar tissue in an agonizing fashion.

Because most important of all these things, of all this journey, of all this ramble that I cannot truly tell whether or not is helpful or interesting to anyone-

I’m in love.  Not solely, not simply; but the fact I can put myself in that state means my world must be improving.

We all have the power to make this place kind and beautiful.

Dear loyal and foolish followers,

friends and strangers alike;

I’m doing okay.

[starlalalala]

Sword-point Diplomacy

Pairing: Geovin

Prompt:  “If you even THINK about touching him/her/them, I’ll kill you"

Tags/Warnings: Minecraft AU, Kings AU, Creeper!Gavin, offscreen violence, non-graphic depictions of minor injuries, Ryan as Sir-Not-Appearing-in-This-Fic

Summary: Geoff narrowly avoids an international incident while travelling through the outskirts of Ryan’s kingdom.

Thank you @love-geofffree for the prompt!

“If you even think about touching him, I’ll kill you,” Geoff hissed. The knight in front of him laughed.

“You’re not in your own kingdom anymore, Your Majesty,” he said. The knight was tall, broad-shouldered, his armour bearing the mark of one of the noble houses of Ryan’s kingdom. He stood before the gate set into the ring wall of the outpost, carried himself like a third born son with something to prove. “And we don’t tolerate aberrations here.”

“Aber- he’s with the royal party! You want to start a war, asshole?” 

The knight shifted uncomfortably. He obviously had an idea of how this would go, and Geoff was going off-script. Even the relatively small search party Geoff had brought with him outnumbered the soldiers at the outpost, and regardless of the outpost’s defenses, if the rest of Geoff’s people joined in it would be a slaughter.

Geoff didn’t want it to end that way.

Yet.

But if these bastards tried to keep Gavin here-

“You wouldn’t anyway, actually, because your King is smarter than you. I doubt he’ll be impressed with this. I can only imagine the shame it might bring your house,” Geoff continued, hand steady on the hilt of his sword. If Geoff focused on what had been done, not on what might have happened in the eight fucking hours in between, he could summon enough fury to hide his fear. 

“I did my duty. I captured a creature marauding through the forest... Your Majesty,” The knight’s words were strong. His voice was not. Geoff knew he had him.

“You kidnapped a member of my court who had strayed too far from the party. If he has been harmed, you will pay.” Geoff’s tone was certain. Angry, but not sadistic. A simple statement of fact. “You will, of course, be punished regardless. But cooperate now and you may keep your life, if not your title.” When the knight made no move, he continued. “If you make me wait, I’ll take him back regardless, and you won’t be around to defend your actions to your King.”

The knight had enough restraint not to flinch backwards at the words, even as he leaned away and his men whispered amongst themselves at their post atop the wall. So many forgot that Geoff had fought for his throne, and fought to keep it. He let them. He had no desire to go down in history as a warlord, or a cruel man, or allow his battles to be the best of his accomplishments.

For Gavin, though, he would play the part.

The knight ordered the gates to be opened, and Geoff strode past without a word, Dan a respectful three steps behind. At this point, the knight knew better than to question him.

The small courtyard in the center of the outpost showed obvious signs of a struggle. Heavy armoured footsteps had sunken into the dirt, and lighter, smaller ones in between -about halfway to the tower, those light footsteps became heavy drag marks. Geoff’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. The remaining soldiers scurried out of his way.

The marks led to a door at the base of the central building of the outpost. Tower was too generous a word. It was three storeys tall, round, standard stonework with small slits for archers. Someone -a smith by the looks of her- opened the door ahead of him, bowing deeply as she did. 

The door did not lead into the tower proper, but onto old stone steps that disappeared into the earth. Dan accompanied him down as the remainder of is guard spread throughout the courtyard, keeping an eye on the knight and his men.

The basement smelled foul, the damp of the nearby forest having nowhere to escape. Only two torches lit up the area, one on either side of the long room. Towards the back was a simple cell, with iron bars unevenly spaced to separate it from the rest of the basement. Dungeon was not the right word, but it came close. Hay was stacked in a makeshift bed, wilting in the humid dark. 

“Stay here,” Geoff ordered, and something shifted in the dark of the cell. He knew Dan wanted to protest, but Geoff needed to see him first, needed to know what they’d done to him.

A low hiss emanated from the figure, a sound that triggered a deep, instinctual fear in Geoff that only the very real fear of Gavin’s injuries could push away. The hiss petered out into a whimper when the form tried to shift into a crouch, and Geoff winced in sympathy.

“It’s just me, buddy,” Geoff soothed, approaching slowly with his hands in the air. The figure stiffened, then relaxed, and Geoff closed the distance.

“Geoffrey?” Gavin whispered, and his voice sounded wrecked. 

In the dim light it was difficult to make out Gavin’s features, but his top lip was split with dried blood dribbled down his chin. His left eye was swollen shut with a dark bruise, and his right darted from place to place, never settling on Geoff for long. His eyes glowed an unnatural green in the darkness. He hissed again when Geoff brushed his hand over the bruise, but in pain, not fear. Geoff moved his hands to Gavin’s shoulders instead. Gavin’s eyes finally met his.

“Hey, c’mon, can you stand?” Geoff tried. Gavin shook his head, and Geoff’s grip on his shoulders tightened. He and Ryan were going to have words once they arrived at his court. Even if those words were an explanation of why one of his subjects had been killed. By the gods, if Geoff’s kingdom wasn’t depending on his behaviour...

Heedless of his injuries, Gavin scrambled closer, both hands tangling in Geoff’s vest. One leg dragged uselessly behind him, and Geoff caught sight of dried blood crusted over Gavin’s bright green clothes. He tried to hold Gavin, but the other man just wouldn’t stop moving, trying to bury his head in Geoff’s shoulder and press them as close together as he could.

“Gavin -Gav, stop,” Geoff ordered, trying to keep his voice low and controlled. “You’re going to hurt yourself, buddy, stay still.”

And Gavin froze. His stillness wasn’t complete -he was still trembling, his grip on Geoff held by fear alone. Gavin’s breathing shook his whole frame, deep, heaving breaths that forced Geoff to put aside his fury for the moment.

“I’m gonna pick you up now, alright? Just keep holding on, it’ll be okay...” Geoff talked Gavin through the whole painful process, shifting Gavin’s body so he could get a good grip under his legs and back, shushing him and apologising when his injuries were jostled. He tried to be as gentle as possible, but it seemed that Gavin had bruises everywhere, and every other movement prompted a whimper. None of the few cuts Geoff could see seemed deep, and none were still bleeding, though a few briefly reopened when Geoff stretched them. 

Overall, it wasn’t too bad. Gavin’s leg seemed to have taken the brunt of it, a few patches of scales scraped thing, a few missing completely. These injuries were nowhere near the worst either of them had had, and Geoff knew as soon as Gavin got over the shock he’d be back to his usual self and complaining about not being able to use his leg. 

Knowing that didn’t stop Geoff’s arms from shaking as he tried to keep his breathing even. That wasn’t what Gavin needed right now. 

He allowed Gavin a moment to catch his breath. Once his breathing had slowed and his head rested on Geoff’s chest, Geoff stood, carefully, trying to keep Gavin’s body as still as possible.

Dan looked on from the doorway, naked concern on his face. He reached for Gavin when Geoff approached, but to hell with appearances, Geoff wasn’t letting Gavin go until he could put him in a warm bed with a healer nearby.

Unfortunately, holding Gavin meant he couldn’t storm upstairs as he wished to. 

Gavin was quiet in his arms, face hidden and breathing evening out, and so Geoff dropped the calm act. He wasn’t entirely sure what the others saw when he emerged into the light again. The knight stood in the center of the courtyard, and whatever he’d been about to say to control the situation died on his tongue when he met Geoff’s eyes. The rest of his men had kept themselves well out of sight, as had most of the workers, but some craftsmen remained to watch the scene.

It was the sight of the workers that decided Geoff. His anger wasn’t worth their safety.

“I am taking my leave. Your King will hear about this,” was all Geoff said. Anymore and he risked starting a fight, and he didn’t want to shake Gavin awake.

The knight nodded, and got out of his way. 

Gavin was, thankfully, unconscious for most of the journey home. Pain and fear had kept him awake through most of his captivity. They moved supplies from the small cart they’d brought with them, distributing them between saddlebags now that speed was no longer an issue, and Gavin curled up in as many blankets as they had. He was almost entirely hidden underneath them, keeping his skin and scales safe from the sun. Geoff rode beside the cart as they returned to the main caravan. 

“I’m sorry,” Gavin said, much later. His wounds had been cleaned and bandaged, and his leg was stretched out in the bed in front of him as he leaned against Geoff’s chest. The carriage was small, but comfortable enough to fit both of them, and Gavin would be riding in it for the next few days at least.

“For what?” Geoff had wrapped his arms around Gavin’s slim frame and hid his face in the patch of scales on his shoulder. They were both exhausted. Gavin needed more rest to truly recover, and Geoff had been in a constant state of anxiety since Gavin had failed to return.

“Shouldn’t have wandered off,” Gavin mumbled, and Geoff held him tighter. 

“It’s not your fault, alright? They had- they had no right to grab you like that, they shouldn’t have-” Geoff wanted to look Gavin in the eye, but he didn’t want to move him. “I’m sorry for taking so long. If I’d realised you were missing sooner...”

“You couldn’t have known-” Gavin began.

“And you couldn’t have known there’d be a bunch of assholes in the woods, right? It’s not your fault. I don’t want you thinking that it is. Just focus on getting better, alright?” Geoff felt Gavin’s sigh more than he heard it. Geoff grinned and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, and Gavin squaked indignantly, wriggling in Geoff’s grip but completely unable to escape thanks to his injured leg. 

“Urgh, that’s disgusting!” Gavin whined, and Geoff laughed. The tension had disappeared. Gavin settled himself again, leaning back against Geoff, his warmth soaking through the bandages. Geoff placed another kiss on his cheek, gentler this time.

“Get some rest, idiot,” Geoff said, and Gavin nodded, his head falling on Geoff’s shoulder. Safe again, he drifted off to sleep easily. Geoff wouldn’t be too far behind, but he wanted to stay awake, just a bit longer. Just to reassure himself that Gavin was here.

[acabloe]

Soon Goodbye, Now Love: chapter four

chapter one 

chapter two

chapter three

new ppl who r just seeing this it’s a guardian angel A/U find pt 1 n two  here ☟

Ao3   ff.net

tw’s: swearing, mentions on depression

still based on this song lol

a/n: is It copyright if I include lines word for word from the movies also is it weird lol too late. 

Chapter four: Make a Wave

Chloe had sat awake all night at her kitchen counter where she had a clear view of the living room and the small sleeping girl on her couch. Paranoia had led to the performance of unnecessary extra work while she waited with a small bath of coffee and her laptop, constantly visually and audibly aware of the situation if anything arose. 

Certain that she would be able to leave her job four or five hours early the next day because of the extra labor, she thought of what the girl- Beca, would do after carrying out the medial plans Chloe had made. They were, now that she thought about it, of a very impractical a nature and it had only just dawned on her how unrealistic they were. Granted, Beca seemed like she wasn’t completely hopeless. Although Chloe was not sure if she believed everything about her story, she knew that the girl wasn’t without resources; She said she’d lived in the city beforehand and she had to have paid some money to travel all the way from Massachusetts to New York.  She considered maybe meeting her again after work since she would be getting off so early, but she was still wary of the entire situation and how rash she was being. The thought that she had so expeditiously befriended this stranger she had found wandering alone in the middle of a field with no shoes or clothes and a long and kind-of gap-filled story was making her brain hurt.

After an extremely uneventful evening, the early hours of the morning dawned and Chloe threw together a small breakfast for herself and began to prepare for the day ahead. She found an old Barden school-sweatshirt in her closet to give to Beca and a pair of trainers she no longer wore, assuming for the time being that the girl truly didn’t own a pair of shoes.

After a brief interval of hesitation, she gently nudged her sleeping guest and murmured a cheerful greeting upon the girl’s stirring. Beca dressed in her newly-cleaned clothes, ate the cereal Chloe gave her in groggy gratitude and at the turn of the hour just as Chloe had promised, they left for the city in her red 90′s Nissan pulsar. 

 The conversation shared hitherto had been sparse and for the most part admitted on Chloe’s initiative, but after ten still fairly uneasy minutes of driving, Chloe found herself want of a more social reciprocity from her apologetic and rather acquiescent companion. 

“Do you mind if I turn on the radio?” Chloe glanced at the girl who was gloomily hunched in on herself, eyes flickering over the passing architectural and natural parade of suburban New York.

“Sure.” She shifted and smiled faintly in response. 

“Do you care what I play? I have a Sia CD in the glovebox there.” Beca dutifully withdrew the black and white cased CD and handed it to Chloe. 

“I didn’t even know they made CD’s anymore.” The jesting comment was thrown quietly but it had not gone unnoticed. Chloe chuckled as she placed the disc in the thin slot of the dashboard.

“She’s a comedian! Well, well, well, a real spokesperson for our generation, aren’t you? Don’t appliance-shame me­, this car is too old for an AUX chord.”

“If you say so, grandma.” Chloe was enjoying this new-found charismatic confidence of the stranger she had only met a few hours ago. As the first song began she hummed along to the all-too familiar melody. She had maintained a sort of comfortable fondness for the artist, as her acapella group had sung a few of her songs in concert when they had been together and listening to the album made her feel melancholic, but peaceful. Even though she didn’t really keep in touch with the girls, she still held them all very dear and her sense of pride for everything they had done together was still running strong. 

“Do you sing?” Beca’s voice was soft and monotone as though she didn’t want to ask the question.

“Funny you should ask, I used to sing in college. I mean, I don’t make a habit of boasting, but our acapella group performed at the Kennedy center with one of the songs on this album!” She smiled through recollection.

“Your A Capella group? oh my God, you are old…that’s nice though, I guess. Congrats.”

“See? I’m a cool grandma.” She increased the volume on the controls and instinctively jumped into the harmonies. The conversation dwindled yet again and she struggled desperately for another topic of conversation.

“Do you?” In Chloe’s side-view she saw Beca’s head turn toward her in confusion.

“Huh?” 

“Do you sing?” 

“Oh. Haha. In your dreams.” Her laugh resonated in a somewhat forced manner as if the subject had affected a sore spot and she became sullen within seconds, returning to the window. This unusual air made Chloe question whether Beca’s statement was true, and if it was perhaps more of a self-deprecating comment. After the first song ended and the second followed suit, Chloe’s doubts were confirmed (admittedly to her delight) as Beca quietly began humming the melody underneath Chloe’s higher intervals. A few words through she softly joined in with the lyrics and Chloe was taken aback by a pleasing (if a little rough) voice, harmonizing in absolute-pitch beneath her own. Their tones blended well, and though Beca was singing softly and with little motivation, their phrasing synced well, Chloe thought. They sung past the chorus and as the bridge began, she addressed Beca with amusement and determination.

“You Can sing! You liar!” 

“Dude, shut up. Just ‘cause I do doesn’t mean I can.”

“What the hell? Your voice is great! You know this song so well, it’s actually almost like you’re singing the arrangement we did for the president.” Chloe smiled when she observed she was making Beca blush. 

“Wait, you’re in the Bellas? Wow. I um…I saw that performance online actually. It’s, like, viral, you know that, right? Also, ever since that David Guetta song I’ve been really into Sia.”

“Oh, God, yeah of course I know, that perforamance almost got us disqualified. Wait, you know David Guetta?”

“Dude, I fucking love David Guetta. Titanium?”

“What a a BOP! Are you kidding me?” 

The last chorus came in and the two girls sang and with a litte more vitality than they had been doing so, especially Chloe. As the last chorus faded into the quiet between songs, Chloe was nearing the end of the highway and the toll booths signifying the entrance to the city could be seen on the horizon.

“So, where are you thinking I should drop you off?” 

“Oh, um…I guess the bank on 15th, if that’s cool? I can make my way from there.”

“Gotcha.” Chloe was unsure how to approach the next subject. 

“You know...if you need anything I’ll be there to help you get back on your feet? You can spend another few nights at my place until you have somewhere to go. Also, I can speak to that friend about the job, I think she’d really appreciate someone else at her café and I’m sure it pays well. Now that I think about it, she’s just around the corner from 15th, I’m going to be early for work anyways, I could introduce you two. If it’s too soon to think about work I totally understand.”

“No, yeah, um, wow, that’s so kind of you. I…I’ve already taken so much of your hospitality, um, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, you must think I’m so awful. I owe you so much, dude. If it’s not, like, encumbering you that would be so great.”

“Really, it’s nothing I swear. You’re a friend now, I’m here to help. Her name is Flo, she was in the Bella’s with me! She’s super sweet, I promise.”

-

Beca passionately inhaled the perfect euphoria of stepping inside Flo’s coffee shop. She had spent so much time in this building her last year on earth. Nothing had changed except for the fact her favorite latte was not on the large chalkboard Manu above the counter, which she didn’t blame Flo for; she doubted very many people ever ordered a sage latte. This recollection made her again dismal when she was reminded that not only Chloe had been made to forget her existence, but also the entire earth and all those she held near. 

The café was small but well and minimally decorated. The floor dipped into the ground as opposed to a raised platform and the ceiling was low with old, dark beams stretched across, between white plaster and strings of tiny warm white string-lights. The counter in the corner was short and littered with large glass bell-jars filled with assortment upon assortment of scones, muffins, donuts, cakes, and cookies. 

The tables surrounding Beca and Chloe were packed with well-dressed people sipping drinks and typing loudly on their laptops and as the two girls gingerly navigated through the labyrinth of perfumed hipsters. Beca finally spotted a very frazzled and frayed variation of her tiny happy friend busily flitting around the tiny kitchen and she smiled in excitement. They finally reached the counter and when Chloe shouted her name Flo turned with a disgruntled looked which quick turned to ease when she saw who had called. 

In Beca’s timeline, the Bella’s intimacy had grown only stronger after their acapella careers had come to a close. Most of them had lived together in some variations of two or three, and they met up often and spoke regularly. Beca had dwelled constantly while she was in the Higher City on whether, if in the universe that had come of Beca’s death, the Bellas had still stayed close or simply grown apart. She had immediately noticed when she met Chloe, how much more subdued and almost depressed the inner layer of personality had been. The thought of living a life away from some of the most amazing people she had ever met, and missing what had been such a huge part of her day-to-day was gut-wrenching to consider, she felt deeply guilty and sympathetic for Chloe.

As she watched the two of them converse, she noted that they still clearly maintained a pretty cordial, if a little formal, relationship with one another. They greeted each other familiarly and then Chloe pulled Beca forward for an introduction. 

“So, Flo, This is Beca! she just got here from Massachusetts and she’s looking for a job, I know you’re a little strapped here so I thought you could maybe use an extra hand and interview her? Or whatever you do when you hire someone in this industry?” Chloe passed her arm around Beca’s shoulders warmly.  Flo sighed and reached out her arms to Chloe in a gesture of gratitude. “You are my savior, Chloe. Work has been like an old man throwing dead-weights into basketball hoops. All these rich people care about is what kind of non-dairy, dairy product they ask for and if you do not get it right they ask for your manager. Which is me. Obviously. I would hire you right now if I had the time. I’m closing the register in fifteen minutes if you want to wait in the back? I’ll be right there.” She gestured to a small hallway in the back of the room and turned to return to her work. Chloe faced Beca with a grin. 

“So, I’m gonna leave you here, but here’s my number. Don’t hesitate if you need anything at all. I work about fifteen minutes walk from here. Text me, keep me updated. I’ll keep in touch, okay?” Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca and hugged her tightly. Beca was unsure how she could respond appropriately other than simply apologizing and thanking her profusely. So, that’s what she did, and then Chloe was gone, out the door and around the corner, bright red hair fluttering behind her in the bitter city wind. 

She had just made herself comfortable on the couch when Flo breezed through the door, still in her apron and lightly dusted with flour. Beca knew the moment she stepped in the café what she would have to do and say. She knew that Flo would sympathize and that she could trust her. Flo sat own at a desk adjacent to the couch and brought out a plaque with a few papers Beca assumed were applications, but Beca scooted to the edge of her seat and placed her palm on the wooden surface before Flo could speak.

“Flo, wait, um...just stop for a sec’...how do I do this? Okay, this is going to seem like a very odd request but can I hold your hand, just, for, like, a millisecond?” Flo’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion but she complied hesitantly, reaching her hand to touch Beca’s.

“Um, sure. Do you want some water or something? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, Yeah I’m fine, just...give me a second.” Beca took her hand and held it securely. She needed just the right amount of contact. She closed her eyes and within less than a split second, Flo withdrew her hand with a gasp.

“Beca Mitchel?! Bitch ass hoe, what are you doing here?!”

a/n: sorry this chapter took so long kids! If anyone cares, I was in New York with my chorus performing at carnegie hall, also if Anna wasn't there at the performance imma b hella pissed bc not only does she a) have an obligation to attend acapella and Choral performances, now that she holds the face of acapella in her palm, but she was also b) in NY at the time and I c) tweeted her twice.