#so i got so hopped up on people with the same interests everywhere

[drinker-of-paint]

Me entirely overthinking constantly for the past few days trying to remember exactly how I acted with everyone at the Magnus Premier and how they responded trying to figure out if they were just being polite or if I was actually being as cringe or annoying as I think I probably was and lamenting my social skills 😂😂😂😂

[kooktrash]

Please fill us in on this delusionship cause I'm so invested now. What in the world is going on with you and this guy? This is so interesting and Very fic worthy tbh

Ok ok im just gonna respond to this with the lore

and disclaimer: it is a long, meaningless, delusional story that has been going on for about a year. ask @joonberriess she gets weekly updates and yall are gonna get it all in one go 😭 A LOT OF SPELLING ERRORS

[key: the story is about 🩷, but there was a previous person 💙, and places are 🐸🦎🛑💨]

for background info: I work full time at a retail store in a shopping mall and lowkey good bucks 😗but anyway, I’ve been here since 2021 so you basically notice when stores hire new employees or people quit or new places open. you begin to know everyone working at your neighboring stores etc

Tbh it’s kinda like high school where you get bored and need someone hot to look at across the hall me and my coworker thought the guys at the shoe store were hot and they would flaunt their stuff if you know what I mean. And there was one man who stood out let’s call him 💙and we were on the same wavelength he knew we were just “window shopping”👀 but when he started dating a girl at the store directly across from mine I had to be a girls girl and find a new target

Around this time a barber shop was being built around the corner. Still a bit of a walk but on my side of the mall. It was out of the way so we didn’t really care bc it wasn’t directly in front of us. And the lore is about 🩷 who works at the barber shop. And when we first saw him I knew he was barber but I didn’t really care bc we couldn’t directly see them like how I could with 💙. I notice’s 🩷 was hot but not like “we work at the same place hot” more of “just a hot customer” type bc he went into my store with another barber and lowkey he didn’t look interested so I just didn’t care to talk to him

a little later we found out 💙 was a bum ass bitch,couch hopper and cheated on the girl with one of his new coworkers ( downgrade might I add. ) He was still on my radar but not really cause now he’s just a man.But the girl moves away and I have her on snap AND GET THIS when she was posting her good bye pics she posted picture of her at the club and 🩷 was in the background. But at the time I wasn’t delusional YETTT I just knew he was hot. and he wasn’t like PURPOSELY in the pic I think he just happened to be at the same bar as her.

Okay now during the summer I was in the streets 💅🏽and I kept running into him at the club and in my head I was like damn I see this mfer everywhere. The second time I really noticed him I was with my friends and my brother for context my stepbrother is gay but people mistake us for a couple bc we’re only a year apart and really close friends. I saw 🩷 at 4 different clubs 🦎🛑🐸💨. The first club we went to was 🛑 he wasn’t there at first but when he was there he was sitting a few tables away with a girl but you could tell he recognized me bc we work at the same place. Even though he was with a girl he was still kinda looking over at me to the point where my brother noticed. I had to explain a little bit of the lore. After awhile we didn’t see him anymore and we got bored of that bar and went to another — we like to bar hop. Anyways we ended up going to 🐸. And at 🐸 guess who we end up seeing !!! 🩷 with his girl and at that point I was like this a weird ass coincidence and you can tell the girl was beginning to notice too bc she kept glaring. he was still paying attention to the girl he was with obv but I could catch him looking over and it was getting annoying. (WAIT WAIT I FOR GOT TO TELL YALL MY BOTHER-IN-LAW USED TO GET HIS HAIR CUT BY HIM BUT I DIDNT KNOW) at some point I think he left 🐸 and little later we decided to leave.

BUT WAIT I didnt know he was standing out side getting ready to go back to 🛑. Keep in mind 🐸 and 🛑 are down the street from each other and 🦎is across the street from both, but 💨 is blocks away. As we’re walking back to 🛑 we see him near 🛑 and 🩷 stops to talk to someone he knew or whatever. We end up passing him and go to 🛑 and later he also goes back to 🛑 still with the girl. at this point I think he thought it was

Getting a little weird and left 🛑 immediately and idk where he want nor did I pay attention. But when we got bored of 🛑 again we decided to go to 🦎 and you wouldn’t believe who we saw again —🩷!!!. But as we got to 🦎 he was leaving but a few moments later he shows back up to 🦎— after seeing us go in. And my friends were confused bc every bar we’ve been to we’ve seen him. I’m trying not to be delulu but it was still weird.

anyways the night ended with a bunch of weird encounters that I’m telling myself were just coincidences BUTTT like I said we work at the same shopping mall so I was still bound to run into him at work yknow? one particular time he had to pass my store to go to the food court for lunch I’m assuming and I walked to the escalator trash can to throw a drink away right as he was walking walking back (but I fr didn’t notice it was him and I doubt he did either) TELL ME WHY I’m over here trying to be mysterious and not look at him like I know him and this mf FULLY whipped his head the other way to not look at me. At that point I was offended bc one) it’s not my fault we keep running into each other and two) I’m just as confused as him lmao 😭

after that I was basically like ew fuck that weirdo bc like I said I’m not intentionally trying to run into 🩷 especially not if I think he’s got a girl

anyways so weeks go by with little encounters like this at the mall and let me keep it a buck, 🩷 would see me with different guy friends all the time so as far as he knew I was taken too yknow?

yall remember 💙? Well he started looking GOOD again and like yeah he was a bum but he understood the assignment <3 he knew it was just flirting staring and nothing more. 🩷 was just tooo… approachable? I like my men like 💙 where I don’t have to expect anything out of it I can just stare and that’s it. so I had told my coworkers idc about the barber aka 🩷 and I was back to being delulu for 💙 and KEEP IN MIND THIS IS ALL IN GOOD FUN nothing serious, but at this time since 🩷 would purposely try and avoid I didn’t care about him enough to be bothered

but I think the universe got something against me bc anytime I would go a long time without talking about 🩷 or seeing him, he’d just magically appear again like the universe was trying to force him back (delulu i know)

so for instance, the next time I saw him he wasn’t with the girl from last time. he was with some guy friends and I was with a full different set of friends than the ones I usually go out with. when I went out with this group

I invited one of my guy friends over and I remember we were walking past 🦎 bar and I didn’t realize 🩷 and his friends were just hanging out around there and I drunkenly made my guy friend tie my shoe. So 🩷 is watching my guy friend get on his knees outside and put my leg on his lap and tie my shoe 😂I’m telling you such Y/n moments

but isn’t it weird how after I was like fuck this man don’t care he just kept showing up? and any time I was out after that he didn’t have a girl with him anymore and he would pay extra close attention to whatever guy I was with

I was out of town for work for a whole week and the one night I came back to go out with my friends I just happened to run into him over and over and over again AND now at the mall he’s not even bothering to avoid me

like I remember once I was standing at the entrance with another coworker and he just stared me down like 😳 and even she was like “WHYD HE LOOK AT YOU LIKE THAT” And I’m like girl idk I thought he was in his avoiding me era

but from then on he would dead stare me but me being mysterious 🎀I would ignore him bc like I said idk if he had a gf or not anymore and also tf I look like approaching him first. even when I’d walk past his barber shop I could see him staring at me

at the club he was getting bolder, staring me down, staring at anybody I talked to etc etc

I remember on Halloween I was dressed as the white rabbit and we do a candy crawl at the mall for kiddos so I had been dressed up all day, I’m walking to the front of my store and I can see into the store across from mine. I remember they have a mirror right at the entrance and 🩷 was definitely trying to look at himself through the mirror when I saw him (bc I could see myself through the mirror too) and I swear the second he saw me he whipped back around to make sure

I would see him talking to other girls every now and then but I feel like it was always if we went a couple weeks without running into each other and like I said I’d talk to diff guys at the club so I couldn’t say anything I’m just delulu

I’m trying to speed this up but once I went out with the group of friends I don’t usually run into and we were at 🐸 which is a two story club. we were at the bottom and my friends and I were about to leave. it was around Halloween time still so we were dressed in costumes and I was wearing this big ass white cowboy hat. there’s no way he didn’t know it was me when I was right by the door, he recognizes my face, and I’m in a big fucking hat BUT GUESS WHET THIS MF DID. There was all this walking room between me and the wall and he deadass pressed up against my back just to pass me by slow and I even turned confused as hell like me being delulu but this man will do anything to be noticed instead of talk to me.

another time at the mall I passed by the barber shop to go to the makeup store and listen y’all I’m crazy so I’m aware the barber shop has mirrors all over so I could see if he’s at his station through the mirrors and HE WASNT. So I walked past, went to the makeup store and ignored the stares from the other barbers. tell me why as im leaving the makeup store 🩷 is standing right outside of it “on his phone” but right as im going to pass him this man does a full 180 degree angle to look at me !!$ 😭 im crazy I kno but if this ain’t giving wattpad idk what is

Basically, we kind of did this back-and-forth all summer all fall too . We would see each other at the club? multiple different clubs and we kind of keep an eye on each other. If he was with a girl, I would notice that he was with the girl if I was with a guy, he would notice that I’m with the guy and we kind of just kept each other in check the whole time but never actually talked which is where I’m saying I feel delusional. Like one time at the mall, I was walking to the food court, and I saw another barber from the shop and he looked at me and then he turned away. Then he looked at me again then he got his phone and started typing. Then he looked at me again, typed again, then put his phone away and turned his back to me and IDK y’all this is where I’m saying am I crazy because I swear it felt like he was texting about me And considering the way all the barbers look at me anytime I walk past I’m fully convinced 🩷’s talked aboutme before to them l not necessarily like that he likes me or anything like that. Maybe he just talk about me in a sense that we run into each other constantly and he thinks it’s weird. Also, I’m feeling lazy so I’m sorry to just use voice to text.’

The last time I fully ran into him was when he like rubbed up against my back that one time I was wearing a cowboy hat and I remember telling one of the girls I was hanging out with about it and to be fair she was drunk so I don’t think she was fully listening, but we were walking outside and I remember her like pulling on him and saying That she knew him and to be honest, he looked more shocked at the fact that I was standing there then he did when she called him out because he didn’t even really react when she called him out, but that was the last time I fully saw him like that

So recently, I haven’t really been running into him that much and honestly, I’m not that mad about it just because at this point it’s been like an all year thing. It’s getting annoying. I can’t tell if I’m being delusional. I I feel like I’m delulu for a reason And it’s it’s like I’m not even gonna lie to you. I Hang out with other guys. It’s just I’ve wasted too much energy thinking about this one 🩷 guy when he’s never gonna even talk to me, but it just feels like the universe really want us to be in the same area it’s pissing me off LMAO.

and this previous weekend I finally asked my friend who said she knew him how she knew him and she basically told me that they were talking for a minute, but they never dated or anything like that. They just went to the club one time together and some other girl approached him and was like yelling at him, and my friend was trying to mind her business, but then I guess the girl talk to my friend and yelled at her telling her that she don’t know why she’s messing with him if he has a girl, I don’t know how long ago this was I was kind of drunk. I don’t remember asking it wasn’t that serious so I just moved on , but I don’t know he’s just too weird and low-key I’m weird. I move weird and so I like a man that moves weird because then I don’t feel guilty about moving weird with them, but he moves too weird I might just ditch 🩷 for 💙

Except today, I literally said I don’t care about 🩷 because of what my friend told me, but then I end up running into him at my at work again and I’m like Bruh I swear to God the universe plays this weird manifestation game where they want us to run into each other for no reason because we don’t even end up talking

And to end this essay, I want to say it’s so stupid and like I said, it literally sounds like a fanfiction just because no nothing of it makes sense and I’m definitely being delusional, but I feel like I’m delusional for a reason because he has done a lot of things that I might’ve forgotten to even add in that have just made me so confused but I try not to read into it because sometimes im the problem 💀 idek delulu but self aware and for a reason

what do yall think

OH AND ONE TIME I HAD A MF DREAM ABOUT 🩷 and tell me why in my dream he said “I’ve been wanting to talk to you but you’re always with other people” and idk weird 😭😭😭 this is definitely a hard read bc of all the errors but sorry yall my head hurts

ask me questions if you got any and tell me what you think 💀like I sound crazy I know

and what I think is funny is I’ll have a full roster of men who I’ll go out with yet I’m more tripped over a man I don’t even talk to lmao

[familyvideowithsteve]

façade, pt. nine : the thunder in our hearts - steve harrington x fem!reader

This material may not be copied, reproduced, displayed, modified. This is my work, do not steal it, do not republish it.

summary: Is it over, now?

warnings: (reading the first series is highly recommended) /NSFW/, no use of Y/n, she/her pronouns with no physical description, violence, near death experiences, blood, weapons, insecure thoughts, angst, self doubt, trust issues, jealousy, nightmares, anxiety disorders and depression (warnings for the entire series not the individual parts) (it's a filler chapter, it's barely interesting, but this is the best I could do as I went through the two most challenging months)

word count: 3.9k

façade the first series | the sequel | spotify playlist | pt. ten

People who are burned alive don't die from the fire, not consciously at least, the brain protects them as so many nerve endings would pull the alarm bell about excruciating pain everywhere, they would fall unconscious on second and third degrees burns, then keep on burning alive until they die.

Thank the heavens Steve and her were originally unconscious when fire started spreading. He had managed to get them closer to the town centre where the four parts joined to form a bigger gate, taking its place on the town library’s side wall and asphalt; it basically was a door gate. 

This portal was the way the US army was able to enter the Upside Down, sending a small group as scouts, all under the clairvoyance of the Mind Flayer, and Henry’s tentative way to warn them of both the US army and his master’s plan, torn between his influence and wrath and the little boy inside him who was his first victim, back in 1959.

He was so split, the warning he tried to get through her didn't work as the Mind Flayer had the upper hand on both of them. She was only a means to know his location as the Mind Flayer suspected Henry would try to get his grip on some form of power to recover. 

She was the perfect tool, being physically and mentally vulnerable and most accessible to both of them. 

The first bomb broke through Hopper’s group meeting Demogorgons and Demobats, fire was their weakness, it got rid of the creatures but it also revealed more presence for the Mind Flayer. 

The order to stop the bombing and look for civilians didn’t come quickly, even though they had managed to clear the first places they had marched in, they struggled to spot any civilians at first, whether dead or alive, then Colonel Sullivan believed he could get more information on Eleven so he ordered to get the civilians out. 

Through Hop’s group, one by one they were brought on stretchers, quickly examined by military doctors to separate and officialise the deaths and the unconscious ones were sent to the military outpost first to be sent to the hospitals. Wings of same state hospitals were privatised, militarised, non-disclosure agreements signed to every healthcare workers and non healthcare workers that would come in contact with them or their hospital wings. High level politics and the army don’t want a sequel to the Watergate scandal, especially when they messed up big time again. 

Steve and her were found later, given their separate position, the fire had stopped spreading when it started raining, their bodies found in comatose condition, they were taken through the main gate as a downpour started pouring, thankfully for them, they were out of the Upside Down for good. The army would have to deal with the Mind Flayer’s forces walking towards the few military men, unprepared and in the unknown. It was none of their concern, though. 

They managed to identify everyone, except her, as they didn’t have any intel on her from previous encounters with the Upside Down, Colonel Sullivan’s branch of army had been watching since Dr Owen took charge of Hawkins Lab, out of everyone, they didn’t know who she was and the most important one of them, El, was missing. He ordered to send Steve and her away and frustratingly ordered more men to search for El, not knowing what was waiting for them on the other side of the gate.

The scent of antiseptic and the sharp, abrupt feeling of pain guided her towards consciousness, welcomed by a strong and vivid light above her she immediately closed her eyes back. She doesn’t understand anything of what’s happened or been happening, all she knows is that her body’s short on adrenaline and endorphins and she feels pain like she’s never felt before. 

It stings, it feels hot, sharp, burning everywhere, like the smallest needles on earth would prickle and tickle her burned skin, it’s unbearable and she wants to die. Not her entire body is burned, the third degrees burned don’t have any nerve endings to send a signal of pain but the surroundings skin gets the message pretty clearly to her brain.

Her body starts trembling, out of cold, fear and pain, she realises she’s crying when she feels the droplets wet her cheekbones and fall into her temples, it’s the harsh realisation that she’s not dead that hits all of sudden.

She finally hears and sees movements above her, it’s blurry at first, but she sees nurses trying to insert catheters in her non-burned arm, someone is scissoring away some of her clothes to reveal her wounds, they’re all trying to attend their patient, her, when she desperately wants to die. She wants to disappear, fade into nothingness, turn into smoke, begone. 

Wrath invades her and the lastest drops of adrenaline hits her body, she pushes everyone away, kicks some health workers away as she rips away the IVs, screaming in a fury to be left alone, that she wants to die. She manages to be on her feet, discards the IV stand away and attempts to take a step away but her body gives her up. Days of not eating and drinking, losing blood, defenceless on all parts, physical and psychological has left her immensely weakened. She collapses on the cool, hard linoleum.

He feels something tightening around his left biceps, the pressure and pain it creates lulls him awake, it’s all blurry, and his mouth's as dry as the Sahara, he wasn’t blinded by the aggressive light on the ceiling.

He feels the pressure loosening and his head automatically tilts to the side. Through barely opened eyes he sees a nurse, or a doctor, he doesn't really know. 

He closes his eyes back shortly after and succumbs again to unconsciousness. For a few more days, he drifts away a lot between wakefulness and sleepiness.

The day he fully wakes, the first thing he asks is where he is, and if she’s okay.

They offer little information at first, because they’re not sure how to deal with it and the NDAs they signed, but they provide some info for Steve.

His body is burned up to 30%, which is reassuring and shouldn't be too incapacitating for living a somewhat normal life. They had to make skin grafts out of his back, but overall, he’s in better condition than most of his friends.

Three out of them didn't make it, but they refused to name who, and Steve doubted they knew all their identities, of if the military had shared it to them because he had to tell them all of his information, on his bedside table, his documents read John Doe#4, soon replaced by Steve Harrington, 21 years old. 

The thought of his birthday passing made him dizzy, because he realised he was in a coma for weeks, possibly more than a month, the dates were all a bit fuzzy and it saddened him greatly. 

Although, he wondered, who were the other John Does? What about the Jane Does? Who was still alive and who was dead? If the doctors considered he was in better condition than the others, how were the others? Was he the only one awake? 

He asked to see the others, they kept telling him they weren’t sure, that he had to be able to walk furthermore so he took that as a bet and worked as much as he could with the physiotherapist, soon enough, he was given the green light to see his friends. 

John Doe#1 was Hopper, he was awake too, but much later than Steve had, he had to be put under an artificial coma to put his body to rest, he had been burned up to 55%, they used skin grafts from his scalp and the back of his tights. He laid in bed, bandages around his arms and torso, he looked tired as hell, but the tiniest smile appeared on his face when he saw Steve step in his room with a cane. 

Steve doesn’t know if it’s a smile he sees on the corner of the man’s lips, he sits on the chair beside him, they chat a little bit, but they don’t know how much they can say with civilians nearby.

They barely talked, avoiding the subject of who had made it alive and who didn't. 

He was so tired he didn't stay that long, but he went to see him over the following days.

Jane Doe#1 was Nancy, unfortunately she wasn’t awake, she was still in an artificial coma, she had taken most of the impact of the fire, burned up to 60%, the doctors were very wary of her condition. Steve could only hope she would get better in time.

John Doe#2 was Jonathan, Steve didn’t even enter his room. Their eyes met through the glass of the door, but he walked away, following the nurse to John Doe#3’s room. Dustin’s. 

The teenager had his limping leg in an external fixation device to keep his leg stabilised. His head stuck to the window he didn’t see Steve approaching, he only looked once he heard the door opening.

Dustin barely smiled, just a thin line on his lips, he rearranged his head as the young adult walked to him, caneless this time. The young teenager once was once so full of life, talkative, he rarely didn’t speak. 

They barely chatted, Dustin’s mood was morose, he was the only one of his best friends who had made it alive, and he didn't see the point yet.

There was nothing that could be said, really, it was too early for reassuring words and optimism. Dustin kept wondering what they could have changed to have a better outcome. 

He was permanently marked by the Upside Down and the losses he experienced. 

If he had known the day of the first murder, that it would all lead to this, he would have made other choices. But overthinking the situation isn’t going to change anything and it’s not going to bring back his best friends. If only.. So he hangs on to Steve, and Hopper. 

Jane Doe#2 was her . Plunged into a deep artificial coma. He tells the nurse her name, it rolls off his tongue so delicately, so longingly, so naturally.. he tells her her age, that he’s her boyfriend. Pulling a chair closer he sits close to her, his hand intertwining their fingers together, his eyes watching closely the movement of her breathing through artificial breathing with a respirator. 

The nurse tells him she had to be put in an artificial coma given the severity of her injuries, burned up to 30% like him but she was in septic shock because of the piece of wood impaled in her abdomen. She was so close to being in cardiac and hepatic failure. She also mentioned how she awoke and screamed she wanted to die and ripped the IVs out before she fainted, how none of them understood that reaction.

He didn’t say much, but he understood. She let him know they planned on waking her up the following day as the exams they had done were good, she wasn’t totally off the hook, but they were optimistic, more optimistic for her than Nancy. The nurse left him in the room, it became incredibly silent.

Unable to say anything, he hated to see her like this. The more he tried to open his mouth to say something, the more his eyes couldn’t bear the sighthing. He was caught in a monstrous spiral of guilt.

His fingers against hers’ feel clammy, he doesn’t realise right away the tears that cascade down his cheeks, falling down the pants the hospital gave him.

His head hung low in shame, he angrily rubbed the tears away and left the room without a single word.

He had felt hope before, he was covered in shame now. Unable to look at his reflection in the mirror, sending the nurse away when she tells him they’ve put her off the respirator and that she’s breathing on her own. Not awake, yet.

And he waits, unsure, ashamed, for the nurses to tell him he can go see her. He’s never been more unsure of his future, of them . He’s got such a bad feeling, he doesn’t know what to think, what to hope for.

It’s silent, so silent, then suddenly her ears are invaded by a sharp beeping, it’s kind of a blur but she hears footsteps, the sound stopping then silence again.

She doesn’t dare open her eyes, her lids feel so heavy, she can’t lift them up and she fades back into silence.

Her mouth feels so dry, furred. Her eyebrows frown, she realises she’s incredibly uncomfortable, her body aches, she opens her eyes and meets the ceiling. 

Her head tilts to the side and she sees it’s dark outside, the window is as large as the wall and she can see the neighbouring woods, hiding the moon. Her room must be pretty high up because she can see an owl is perched on a thick log, stretching one arm then the other. It gets comfortable while keeping an eye on the area for any mouse to hunt. It’s a beautiful scene to witness. 

Her eyes meet the ceiling again, it’s just another proof that she isn’t dead. She closes her eyes and completely abandons herself to the feeling, her right arm moves to her stomach, under the hospital gown she feels the thickness of a dressing. Sobs escape her lips and she tightens her closed lids, forcing the tears to run along her cheeks to fall in her temple and in her hair.

She cries herself to exhaustion, emotional exhaustion. She doesn’t fall asleep, even if she gets to witness a peaceful scene, she gets to relive her final days in the Upside Down. She really hoped she would die, she would finally be at peace with Eddie. Turns out she’s not done agonising on this earth. 

She doesn’t ring anyone to let them know she’s awake, they’ll know soon enough and it’s suddenly gonna be less calm and more hectic around here. She sees the night fade away into the dawn, the trees are the curtains to the light of day, the owl retreats to sleep. 

She hears the door open, footsteps approaching, and with a sigh the cacophony begins. 

He knows she’s awake but hasn’t come to see her yet, uncertainty planted a seed in his brain that he can’t seem to outgrow. He knows she’s going to reject him, but he hopes not. So he delays. 

One afternoon, the nurse comes to him, she’s awake and cognitively responsive, but refuses to talk to anyone. Maybe she will respond to him.

He’s basically their last chance at getting her to communicate and open up. 

He finds her lying on her side, it’s past five in the afternoon, she’s looking at the window, a birds’ nest is perched on a log, she watches the two birds building the nest. Seeing her like this from afar, felt like watching a lioness in a small lions run. 

A lioness that’s accepted her doomed fate in a terribly small enclosure and no stimuli.

He opens the door, she doesn't move, he grabs a chair and walks towards her side of the bed, when he sits down their eyes meet and a shy smile appears on his lips.

She doesn’t smile back, only frowns, “Steve.” 

Her voice is so hoarse, like she hasn't spoken in a long time, she clears her throat, and frowns more as her throat aches.

Her name falls from his lips like warmed butter, it rolls off his tongue like sweet honey and it makes him want to close his eyes and reminisce the months they spent as a couple before it all went sideways. 

Instead he simply smiles more, his hand naturally falls close to her waist on the duvet. 

He gets her to talk a little bit, for him it’s clear, she’s still in the Upside Down, haunted by everything that happened. He could understand her reaction, he’s been trying to live with the trauma of it for four years before, but he didn’t experience it like her. 

That’s what really shatters him, because she experienced way too much, way too fast, and more than most of them. 

She didn’t open up much to him first, she had intertwined their fingers together, tucked under her cheek. Her eyes closed, she seemed to be able to rest that way, so he let her. 

With more visits she began revealing more, how she could barely sleep at night because as soon as she closed her eyes she was back in the Upside Down, she could hear the demobats gnawing on Eddie as she tried her hardest to rush to him. She could see the pool of blood growing larger by the minute. 

Heat left his body as minutes went by. 

Then the shuffling sound of the Mind Flyer getting closer and her most vivid nightmare begins. Henry, Vecna, the voices, the unsettling darkness and loneliness. All of this repeats every night and she’s trapped in the most gruesome place.

Steve suggests collective counselling but she refuses, so he promises her to get better together to live this place together. A promise he makes, and she nods.

It starts there.

Physiotherapy, all their IVs are out, Dustin’s leg in an articulated splint so he could readapt to walking again, Hop’s on his feet too, and Nancy doesn’t wake up. 

Jonathan is ignored by Steve and her, he carries the weight of Nancy’s fate on his shoulders, forever wondering if he had done things differently, maybe she would still be with them. 

They don’t receive any news about Hawkins or the Upside Down because they refused to get them, if only Hop knew anything about El, he would feel a tad bit better about being alive, so he swore to himself he would get better to search for her. 

Over the months, it had been over more than a year actually, they stayed in that militarised hospital only to ensure their safety, and they needed clearance from the doctors and the army. Especially from the army. 

They demanded that each of them consulted a counsellor to clear them apt for living in society, given what they went through. Hop was sour about it because he hadn’t had something like this when he came back from Vietnam. 

They all were more or less trustworthy with the counsellor, Steve was the most sincere, and she was the most calculating to leave this place as soon as possible.

To be done with this hell, she had to leave, and quickly.

She has no idea what she plans on doing, but the more time she spends with them, the more she can't bare it.

She knows they're not responsible for the Upside Down and Vecna and the Mind Flayer, but she needs someone to blame, and lying to the counsellor seems to be working, so she continues, hoping she’s going to escape this hellhole. She’s in denial, buried very deep in there until it’s going to come bite her in the ass.

One September afternoon, the news broke through. They’ve been cleared by the army to leave, finally, she was the first one to cross the counsellor’s doors to retrieve the things she had gathered since she’s been brought to the hospital, some clothes—donated by people to the hospital. Toiletries. She scoffed as she realised her entire life could be held in a plastic bag from the nearest 7-Eleven. 

He shouted her name through the corridors, calling her to stop and allow him a few words but she only walked faster to the nearest staircase, furtively meeting his eyes when she stopped by the door. 

The look on her face was enough to slow him down slightly but he kept going after her, they practically ran off the staircase until he caught up on her when her hand was on the door handle, his body blocked the way for her and she turned to him. 

“Just.. wait, please— I… I need to catch my breath.” 

“Wait for what? I don’t want to hear it, what I want is to leave far away from this godforsaken place and never return!” 

His hand intuitively went to his hair, his fingers brushing through his locks without a second thought as he observed her, “I understand, I don’t plan to stay here, but I thought we could—”

“What? That we could run far far away together as if nothing happened? As if I don’t wish to be left off dead in that godforsaken place with my best friend?! As if we could forget it all?!” 

“No. It’s n—”

“Listen to me carefully because I will not say this again. I’m leaving, alone. I do not wish to see any of your faces ever again, do you hear me? I never want to hear from you, see you, ever again!,” she paused, pushing him to the side to grab the door handle. 

She opens the door, takes a step but suddenly stops, turning to face him. 

He doesn’t remember ever seeing her eyes so full of anger, how so much wrath could hold into her body without it crumbling down in autodestruction like a ticking time bomb, he doesn’t know. Perhaps the bomb already set off, or is about to, but he doesn't want to be around when she does.

“If memory serves me right, you were the first to leave, and you were right. You were so right to abandon me on my doorstep."

Another pause, and he dreads the last words she will spat at him like venom.

" You’re dead to me .” 

They swore they could hear their hearts breaking like porcelain. It was full circle. She had watched him leave all those months ago after a night together, she had physically felt her heart breaking, crumbling down. She had felt her stomach twitching, ready to empty itself. She had wanted nothing more than to disappear in shame. 

Now it was Steve’s turn. Nausea crept up on him, his legs turning to jelly, his heartbeat grew so loud in his ribcage, he could feel his flesh thumping along the rhythm, he felt like he was dying. He wanted nothing more than to disappear in shame. Disappear into nothingness as he watches her leaving.

They feel like their lives are over, their hearts deflated like their dreams and hopes. Even though they loved each other so profoundly, she had to free herself of so much pain and anger.

‘Free herself’...strange choice of words. She doesn't know what she's going to do, where she’s gonna go, she doesn't feel free either way.

All she knows is that she needs to get as far away as possible from Steve Harrington and Hawkins. As far away as possible from the source of all the pain and shame, and self hatred she feels. Away from where her heart truly feels at home, but doesn't let her feel that sense of belonging, buried under layers of her anxiety and crippling depression, from the trauma of the Upside Down to her maladaptive jealousy and self hatred.

The day she left Steve Harrington on the front entrance of the militarised hospital, is the day she celebrated her twenty-second birthday, after spending two years in hell from the day she fell in the portal on the highway.

Is it over, now?    

Don't forget to reblog and let me know your thoughts, it's the least minimum. tags (of the prequel and/or people who liked the masterlist) : if you’d like to be tagged, let me know in the comments @freezaz123 @ihavebecomesomething @aphetropy @sigh-mon-reads @madaboutjoe @mystic-writings @wanderlustaflame @333starbride @seatnights @gabby123rocks @hauntors @ourprisma @torntaltos @hollandweather @we-out-here-simping @cupofjoekeery

(mutuals that might be interested let me know if not): @strangerquinns @stiles-o-dylan24 @teen--marvel

[marlynnofmany]

Too Many Limbs

“Wait — hold still,” I said. “Waterspheres by your foot.” I readjusted my grip on the broken storage crate and tried to free an arm to sweep the floor clear. “Don’t step on them.”

Zhee’s many bug legs froze in place, his own armload of supplies making it hard to get a clear view. Even compound eyes can’t see through that many layers of alien silk. Sounding irritated, he asked, “Which foot?”

“Jeez, I can’t tell.” I leaned back, trying to get a better view, and bumped into another crate. “A front one? I don’t know how you keep track of this many limbs, honestly.”

“You think this is a lot?” Zhee laughed in a deliberately human fashion as he felt around with one foot at a time. “You say that within earshot of a Strongarm?”

Blue-black tentacles shoved a plastic tub aside. “You called?” asked Mur.

I sighed as Zhee cheerfully ratted me out. “The human has opinions about how many limbs are too many.”

“I did not say that.”

“Oh really?” asked Mur, clearly looking for a distraction. He clambered on top of the tub and curled up like a squid who’d been raised by housecats. “Do tell.”

I wrestled a safety strap around the broken crate. “All I said was that it’s hard to keep track of which foot I’m looking at when I can’t see the rest of him for context.” I jerked my head toward Zhee.

Zhee folded the cloth into a smaller bundle, looking for all the world like a praying mantis trying to eat a Kleenex. “Yes, how rude of me not to color-code them for your sake. You were so kind as to do the same for us.”

I finally had a hand free to point at him. “You know full well that the cat put a hole in my other blue sock. You were there when I told Paint about it.”

“What, it wasn’t a deliberate fashion statement? Shocking.” Zhee was warming up to this. “Clearly you need the help in telling one limb from the next.”

Mur waved a tentacle in my direction. “You realize your own limb arrangement would be baffling to a Solo, right?”

The crate secured, I sat back and took a breath. “Which ones are those?”

Mur folded his tentacles in a way that meant nothing to me. “The species with unilateral symmetry.”

Zhee added, “Amphibious, usually seen with humidity masks.”

“Ohhhh, right,” I said. “The one-eyed, one-armed hopping purple people aliens.”

Mur settled his tentacles. “They’re not all purple.”

“Some are,” I insisted.

“Only the classiest,” Zhee said. He glided forward, stepping carefully through the scattered waterspheres and cans of offworld tuna or whatever those were. I hadn’t bothered to read the labels. At any rate, he didn’t step on anything.

I shook my head and started gathering up waterspheres. My shirt was long enough that I could make a basket in the manner of fruit-picking kids everywhere. Well, everywhere that kids wear shirts.

Mur, who did not wear humans clothes and who was apparently not interested in getting back to cleaning, watched for a moment. Then he said with a smile, “We could get you ankle bands with ‘left’ and ‘right’ on them.”

I threw a small watersphere at his head. He caught it with one deft spiral of tentacle, then popped it into his mouth like a grape and slid off the tub, chuckling.

“The floor’s dirty!” I called after him.

“No it’s not!” he replied. “I cleaned it right before the gravity hiccuped!”

“Well, it’s got Zhee’s foot germs.”

“I’ll take my chances!”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

[love-and-monsters]

MerMay: Mermaid Girlfriend

F mermaid X GN reader, 11,800 words

IT’S STILL MAY I GOT IT IN ON TIME. In all seriousness, this was way longer than I wanted it to be. I gotta learn to be more concise. Apologies if the ending’s a bit rushed and there are mistakes- I was kind of speeding to get it out in time. hopefully you still like it!

Content Warning: Mentioned/discussed non-consensual human experimentation, description of injury

You had been returning to the seaside every full moon for a year just to see her. It was only an hour by train from your shitty little apartment, and the summer meant you had plenty of time to get home and change into something beach-appropriate before it got dark.

The beach didn’t close until ten, and you were there just as the sun set, so there was enough time to wander around. The boardwalk was nice, if a bit crowded. Loops of fairy lights hung along the edge of the boardwalk, adding some illumination between the larger spotlights of streetlamps and vendors. You purchased a churro and settled down on a bench to watch the shore.

The sea was dark, but light reflected off the crests of the waves so you could track the undulation of its surface. The foamy surf that surged up the beach was pale enough to be readily visible, and you watched its ebb and flow as it crawled further and further inland. Sometimes its back and forth was disturbed by a person walking through it, but the night was growing chilly without the sun and people stopped venturing into the ocean as it got later.

The moon rose, hanging heavy and low over the ocean. Its glow created a spot of reflection in the ocean, one paler and more consistent than that of the twinkling boardwalk lights. And, as it got later, the boardwalk lights switched off one by one, leaving less competition for the moon’s glow. The streetlights were still on, but the gaps between them were now more starkly shadowed, the fairy lights unplugged for the night. You stayed in the shadows as you crept to the edge of the boardwalk, the portion that was slightly elevated above the beach, and hopped down.

It was distinctly cool, with the breeze rolling in off the sea all around you and in the shadows of the boardwalk. You retreated to a particularly gloomy spot and waited.

Security staff did sweep the public beach areas, but they were never thorough or seemed to care if they actually found someone or not. A couple of people in uniform wandered onto the beach, swung their lights around to spot stragglers, then left. The beach wasn’t what they were usually concerned about, anyway- if rowdy teens were hanging around, they would be more interested in the boardwalk itself, and the security guards patrolled accordingly. They would do a couple more checks throughout the night, but they were mostly just making sure people didn’t sneak onto the beach, get drunk, and leave a bunch of trash everywhere. They could be easily avoided.

Once the security guards were gone and you were certain there were no other people trying to use the beach after dark (it had happened before, forcing you to stay hidden for more than an hour before you gave up and went home), you crept out from your hiding spot and toward the edge of the sea. It was cold enough that you didn’t stick your toes in the surf. You just approached the very border of the sea and waited.

It wasn’t hard to wait. You had been doing it for a very long time.

You had only seen her once. It had been around the same time the year prior- early summer, when the sea had just started to consistently get warm. Your visiting the beach had been sheer coincidence- it was a good day trip and you’d been cagey after a winter spent almost entirely alone. Walking around the boardwalk had been just the pick-me-up you needed to get your mind back in gear.

It had been such a good pick-me-up, in fact, that you had been reluctant to return home. Even once the sun had completely set and the beach had been closed to guests, you remained. You just needed one more minute free of your apartment, one more minute to be free of your work, one more minute of peace.

And then she had broken the surf.

At first, you thought you were just looking at another human tourist. The head and shoulders that emerged from the waves had been, from a distance, in the perfect silhouette of a human. You watched, a bit concerned. Yes, you’d snuck onto the beach after hours, but you weren’t stupid enough to go swimming in the ocean without a lifeguard present. And wasn’t it cold? The water hadn’t warmed up that much.

And then she had broken the waves and you’d seen that, from waist down, she had a tail.

It was a dolphin tail, at least in shape. Sleek enough to smoothly reflect the moonlight from above, it had only been visible for a moment before she’d slipped back beneath the waves.

Naturally, you had immediately sprinted for the beach as fast as you could, skirting the very edges of the foam to stare out into the ocean. Your brain was seized by the utterly fantastic, utterly crazy notion that you had just seen a real-life mermaid.

Of course, within the few minutes it took for your heart rate to slow, you realized how utterly stupid that idea was. It was, in all likelihood, a person wearing one of those fake mermaid tails that you sometimes saw online. They were often skillfully crafted, good enough to be mistaken for the real thing in the light of day, never mind the dim half-light provided by the moon.

Still, you waited by the shore, scanning the coastline. She may not have actually been a mermaid, but she was still a person, and it wasn’t safe to be swimming at night. Even less safe to be swimming in a tail like that, which could get caught on something or restrict movement if she got caught in a rip current. The least you could do was wait for her to poke her head back up again and see if you could convince her to get out of the water.

You waited. And waited. Your concern grew heavier, like a weight on your chest the longer you stayed. She was gone.

For a few moments, you scanned the beach up and down, squinting at the waterline. Maybe she’d let the current sweep her further down the beach and surfaced there. But there was no sign of her in the ocean or on the beach. You fidgeted anxiously. Where was she? The longer you waited, the more likely it became that she was trapped under the water.

What were you supposed to do? Run for help was the most likely answer. But you were reluctant to leave, and what were the odds you’d be able to make it back with help before she drowned? The only other option was to wade in yourself.

The water was an ice cold shock against your skin- it was still early in the summer, so the sea hadn’t had a chance to warm up yet, and the chill of the night air didn’t help. It wasn’t severe enough to lock your muscles up, but it was enough to make your feet and hand go numb. The sand slipped under your feet and it was hard to find your balance again. Still, you shoved yourself forward, wading into the water until it was up to your waist, then your chest. Then your feet slipped away from the sand completely.

Waves bobbed and splashed at your face, and you sputtered out mouthfuls of salty water. Still, you spun valiantly around in the water, swinging your limbs in the hopes of hitting something. This, you were pretty sure, was where she had gone down, and the current wasn’t particularly strong. The sea floor was also only a few inches from your feet- if you strained, you could brush your toes against it without going underwater- so it was unlikely that she had sunk beneath you.

The longer you stayed in the water, the colder everything became. It was stretching up from your numb hands and feet into your legs and chest. You dove under the water for a moment, searching frantically with your hands. There was no sign of her. Even continuing in the direction you’d seen her moving, you couldn’t find her body.

It was at that point that the complete stupidity of your decision sank in. This was why people said not to jump in and try to save people. Because now you were out in the water, half frozen, and probably not able to even drag her body back to the shore if you did find it. If she was still alive.

A wave splashed over your head and you sputtered. You twisted, trying to head back to shore, but your numb hands and arms made it hard to move. You could barely feel anything below your calves. The shore looked much further away than it once had, or maybe it was just that you were moving toward it so slowly. It felt like you were fighting the water itself, like it was trying to grab you and drag you back toward the open sea. The waves wrapped around you, pressing against your limbs with inexorable force.

And then you were yanked forward by a sudden and powerful force. You gasped, then regretted it when a flood of salty water entered your mouth. Choking and coughing, you tried to kick against whatever was dragging you- some kind of current? Then you registered that the force was not the full-body tug of a current, but a pull that was centered at your waist. Like someone had grabbed you and was pulling you with them as they swam.

One of your wildly kicking legs struck the seafloor. The force at your waist vanished, and you managed to scramble to your feet, choking up water and swiping sand and salt from your eyes.

Something brushed against your leg and, with the instinctive terror of anyone whose leg had just been touched underwater, you scrambled away. Your eyes flew open, still stinging, but clear enough to see, and you froze.

What had touched your leg was her. The woman you’d seen in the water. Her features weren’t all that clear, thanks to the darkness, but the moonlight was enough for you to see that she was still wearing the mermaid tail.

Except. That now you were up close to her. She was bobbing in the water, most of her back clearly visible, and there was no seam line. No mark to show where the tail ended and skin began.

It was a trick of the light, of course. It had to be. Except. When she shifted in the water, lifting her head and shoulders out, you could see her neck. And the gills that were striped on either side of it.

As you stared, the gills flexed. The little flaps that partially covered the slits moved. It was just a tiny little motion. But it made the world turn beneath you.

She was real. A mermaid. Merperson. There was no way to fake those gills. If this had been a video, you would have assumed it was CGI- very good CGI, to be clear, but you never would have actually believed it. But this was not a video. She was right in front of you. She was touching you. And those gills were intimately real.

You lifted your hand up, acting automatically, and touched the gill slits. You weren’t really thinking about it- you were just fascinated. For one amazing moment, you could feel how real they were under your fingertips, slightly warm and damp. And then she made a strange, high pitched keening noise and slid away from you.

“Wait!” You scrambled to your feet as she pushed away from you, gliding into the sea. Fuck, of course poking at her gills would make her leave. Her tail brushed against your legs one more time and you felt the strength in it as she pushed against the water and sailed out to sea. You stood, waist-deep in water, watching her vanish into the darkness. Her tail broke the surface once final time, several feet away, and then she was gone.

Weak from nearly drowning and shaken by seeing something you had previously thought to be a myth, you crawled out of the water and sat on the beach. Being soaked through made the night almost intolerably cold, but you sat out on the beach anyway, watching the moon cross the sky.

By the time the sun and sea were turning pinkish-red with morning, you had made a decision: you would see her again.

Your plan was, admittedly, neither complicated nor good. In your defense, you didn’t have a lot of information- all you knew was that she’d come to the beach once. Maybe she would come again.

Going to the beach every single night wasn’t possible for you, so you narrowed the time frame. Once per month was doable. And the first night you’d seen her, it had been a full moon. Maybe she’d been close to the beach on the full moon for a reason. Not to mention that it was just easier to see the ocean when there was more light in the sky. So, every full moon, you returned to the beach and waited for hours, hoping for a glimpse of her again.

After almost a year, you’d seen neither hide nor hair of her. You kept going to the beach, though- perhaps she hadn’t been active during the winter, perhaps she was just being cautious and staying away for not. But there was a worry that you had disturbed her, that she was never going to come back, and that you were never going to be able to really get to meet a mermaid.

You wanted to thank her. She’d dragged you out of the water and you’d done nothing but stare and prod at her. Even if you never got to see her clearly again, you wanted to get the opportunity to thank her.

And so, you were sitting on the beach. Waiting. Hoping. Trying to catch just one more glimpse of her. But the knot sitting in your stomach said that you were possibly wasting your time.

You sit for hours, watching and waiting. Your eyes try to drift shut and you pry them back open. The moon reaches its peak and starts to dip back down. The water starts to pull back down the beach. You check your phone. It’s getting quite late. If you don’t get ready to leave soon, there will be no more trains back to your apartment, and you’ll either have to walk or wait. You watch for a few more moments, watching the currents of the ocean.

Just as you’re turning your gaze away, something changes.

You freeze, staring intently at the spot of motion. It looked like something moved, breaking the even pattern of the waves. But it was only for a moment. You wait. Please. Let it be her.

And then you see it. The slim, glistening form of a large tail breaking the waves, just barely illuminated by the moon.

You scramble toward the ocean, stopping once you’re close enough for the waves to break over your feet. Her head breaks above the waves for a moment, a barely-visible motion that you certainly wouldn’t have seen if you weren’t looking for her.

Now what? You’ve been searching for so long that the actual finding has left you paralyzed. You don’t want to splash into the water unprepared again- nearly drowning once was enough for you. Sure, you could yell for her, but that has the likely side effect of drawing other humans to you, and that would probably drive her away. Instead, you fumble for your phone. Careful not to let it drop into the waves, you unlock it and switch on the flashlight app.

It takes a moment for you to locate the mermaid again- her tail breaks quite a few feet to the left of where you last saw her. She keeps moving. That’s going to make this more difficult. But you’re determined to try regardless.

You lift your phone above your head and point it toward the mermaid. It’s not all that strong, but you have a small mirror. You lift that up and tilt the mirror until the light intensifies. Perfect. Over and over in a steady motion, you shift the mirror. The light dances over the sea in a pattern. One, two, three, stop. One, two, three, stop. One, two, three, stop.

Animals from the sea sometimes use reflections of light from the shore to direct them toward the beach. You’re hoping that your mermaid will have a similar instinct. At the very least, maybe she’ll get curious and come closer.

The mermaid’s head breaks the surface again. She doesn’t appear to be moving anymore. Just looking around. You raise the mirror again to start your pattern. One, two, three, stop. One, two, three, stop.

Her head vanishes back under the water. You freeze. Is she leaving? Coming closer? It’s impossible to track her. You just keep scanning the sea, your heart sinking more and more the longer she stays underneath.

And then her head resurfaces. This time, she’s closer to the beach. Much closer.

Your breath stutters. Fingers shaking, you lift the phone and mirror again. One, two, three, stop. One, two, three, stop. Her head vanishes. You hold your breath. She’s coming closer. Just a little further.

Her head breaks the surface once more and your breath catches even more sharply. She’s close. Close enough that you can see her in detail. And she can see you as well, because her gaze locks onto you. She pauses, still half-submerged, and stares.

You stare back. Does she recognize you? Does she remember you? You remember her because she’s the only mermaid you’ve ever seen, but she might drag humans out of the ocean every other day. She isn’t showing any recognition. She’s just watching cautiously.

“H-hi,” you say. Your voice wobbles a little. “Can I come closer?”

She doesn’t move. You take a single step down the beach. She doesn’t react. You try a couple more steps. Her eyes shift at that, following your motion. There’s tension in the set of her shoulders, but she still doesn’t flee. Once you’re about a foot and a half from her, you stop walking and drop to your knees.

You’re close enough that you can actually make out details. Her hair is lank and wet around her face, but quite long. Her hands, when the waves pull back enough for you to see them, are webbed. She’s slender, but it’s the sort of slender that shows off the ribs and spine in a disconcerting way. The kind of slender that speaks to rarely getting enough to eat. Her eyes are as black as a shark’s eyes and when they catch the moonlight, they turn nearly pure white with the reflection. Her tail reminds you of a dolphin’s tail, with what seems to be rubbery skin rather than scales, though the fins at the end are larger and bulkier than any dolphin’s you’ve seen. Not that you’ve seen many dolphins.

“Can you talk?” you ask, because mermaids in stories can often talk. Then again, if she was born and raised under the sea, where would she have learned to speak? Heck, even if she does know a human language, who’s to say it’s English?

She replies by opening her mouth, which shows off rows of sharp teeth, and all that comes out is a grating hiss. There’s a sound there that might be words, but it’s sort of lost in the rest of the noise, which sounds a little like a snake combined with a steam pipe. Her mouth clicks shut again. It’s hard to read her face (apparently she doesn’t emote much) but her tail comes down on the water with a heavy ‘splat!’ and you can only interpret that as irritation.

Before you can try to comfort her or tell her it’s okay, she’s dragging herself up onto the beach. You scramble back, startled, but she continues doggedly forward. At first, it’s easy going, since she can just half-float or coast on the waves. Then her tail starts dragging on the sand and she abandons the smooth glide to half-hop, half-drag herself onto the beach, seal style.

Once she’s mostly out of the water, she sags onto the sand. She’s making a weird sort of wheezing noise and her gills keep flexing at her neck. Is she drowning? Or, well, the opposite of drowning. Suffocating? You’re just about to haul her back into the water when the wheezing fades. She picks her head back up and looks at you, alert and focused.

She lifts one of her webbed hands and used the tip of her pointer finger to scratch something into the sand. You’re convinced it’s going to be mermaid language for a moment before you recognize the lines she’s putting together.

“You’re writing ‘hello,’” you realize. “You can write in English.” She nods vigorously. “How did you even learn how to write?”

She hesitates for only a moment before scrubbing out her previous word and writing again. Learned as a child.

“Mermaids learn to write in English?” you wonder out loud. How did that work? How do they even get enough material to learn English underwater? Books would dissolve.

She frowns and makes another unhappy hissing noise. Her tail flexes, slapping against the sand. No. Not mermaid.

You pause, flicking your gaze to her tail. Her soft hissing grows sharper. It sounds like it’s coming from somewhere deep in her throat and chest, a more constant sound than a human could create. Her gills flare. The hissing reaches a peak, then she seems to run out of energy. She collapses fully on the sand.

“Do you need to go back in the water?” you ask. She’s far enough up the beach that it would take considerable energy to shove herself back into the waves. But it wouldn’t be too hard for you to drag her back, if she needs it.

She shakes her head rapidly, dragging her chin back and forth through the sand. She remains collapsed for a few moments longer, gills flaring as she pants, then she stretches out a hard to write again.

Outside water tiring but fine. Is hard. No humans for long time.

“You’ve had contact with other humans?” you ask. She nods once before writing again.

Was human. She draws back after finishing the sentence, looking at you to assess your reaction. Your mouth opens and closes a couple times before words come.

“You were a human?” She nods. “But then… how? What happened?”

That seems to give her pause. She swings her tail back and forth. Eventually, she starts writing. She keeps having to scrub it out to make more room, writing through the same area over and over.

Yes. Was human. Lived nearby. But was poor and homeless. Needed help. Enrolled in medical trial. Got safe lodging. Food. Safety. Was good. Then trial went bad. Pain. Sickness. Was asleep for a long time. Was like this after that. Others were there. I left. Do not know about them. Tried to hide long time. Hard to be awake during day. Hard to talk to people. Scared. Lonely.

She stops writing after that, sagging on the beach once more. You sit in silence, processing it. “I’m- I’m sorry.” The words don’t feel helpful at all, but you’re not sure what else you can say. She snorts and makes another hissing sound. “You, uh. You can write, but you can’t talk, I guess?”

No. Throat not work right. Does not make sounds right.

“Have you spoken to anyone else since you… left?” She shakes her head and starts writing again.

No. Scared. Uncertain. Do not want to be captured. Do not want to be studied. Scary here, but free. Her tail swings back and forth, kicking up clumps of wet sand.

“Okay, okay,” you say. “I’m not going to tell anyone, I promise.” She nods and slumps on the ground, panting once more. Her breath seems to be getting more labored the longer she stays on land. “Do you need to go back in the water? How long can you stay on land?”

Not know limits. Cannot stay on land too long though. Breathe easier in water. Chest gets heavy if on land too much. She pants for a little longer before heaving herself mostly upright again. You are first human to see me since I’ve been here. I have been more careless. Lonely.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “That sounds awful.” You fall into silence for a moment. The mermaid slumps onto the beach, eyes closed. She makes a wailing noise in her throat, a sound that it almost too high for me to hear. But I can tell what it is. She’s crying. There are no tears from her eyes, but the wail goes on and on with no pauses for breath. It’s a long, mourning wail.

When she quiets, you reach out a hand and place a hand on her shoulder. She’s cool to the touch and quite slick- you’ve never felt a dolphin before, but you have felt the rays in an aquarium touch tank. It feels quite a lot like that, the same slightly slimy but also quite smooth and pleasant texture.

When she recovers herself a little, she sits up and begins writing again. Thank you for speaking with me. It has been long time. I like seeing people again.

“Do you need to go now?” you ask.

Tired. Want to rest.

“Then can I see you again?” you ask. She looks startled, eyes going wide and tail flapping against the surf. “Please? I- you saved my life last year and I don’t want to leave you alone out here.”

She thinks, eyes darting around. Then, hesitant, she nods. Will return tomorrow when moon is high. Come then.

With that, she pushes herself backwards. It takes a couple awkward, flopping movements, but then she’s most of the way in the waves. One catches her, lifting her off the sand, and she turns her body in a sinuous motion. There’s a second where you can still see her swimming amongst the surf, and then she’s gone beneath the waves once more.

You stand on the beach for a while. Once she’s gone, meeting her feels like a dream. You’re half expecting the memory to get hazy, like dreams do when you wake up. But even as the moon sinks lower, the memories don’t go away.

You turn and hurry off the beach. There’s only another thirty minutes until the final train departs for the night, and you want plenty of time to rest.

After all, you’re coming back tomorrow.

When you reach your apartment, you collapse into bed and sleep. It’s past midday and you’re both groggy and starving when you wake. Grabbing a bowl of cold cereal, you plop yourself down in front of your laptop and start searching.

You search loosely for mermaid sightings, but quickly find that it isn’t leading anywhere. Most of the sightings that pop up are from popular areas, and more than half the articles are about debunking mermaid sightings. Even narrowing the search to look for mermaid sightings specifically in your area doesn’t help- it brings up a bunch of posts with the word ‘mermaid’ in them, but nothing about seeing a mermaid. If anyone else has seen your mermaid, they haven’t posted it online. Or, at least, the post wasn’t popular enough to get into the first few pages of a google search.

Since this search is getting you nowhere, you change topics. She’d said she’d been captured for some kind of medical trial. Again, that’s too broad of a topic to just go searching for willy nilly, but she’d said she’d been local, which narrowed the scope. You’re not sure how long ago she was captured, so you search for any local medical trials in the past ten years.

You don’t find any specific medical trials, but what you do find is the name ‘Wellterra.’ It’s a medical company, one that specializes in research and development of medications. They treat everything from cancer to genetic conditions and chronic illnesses, and the local branch is only one of a few hundred locations all over the world. And the location nearest to you is specifically located right on the ocean, and has research and development facilities with a focus on aquatic creatures.

It’s enough to get your suspicions going.

You hit up the library, print off several sheets of information, and head back to the beach.

You wait impatiently for the moon to rise high into the sky. It’s slightly less than full now, but there’s still plenty of light for you to see your mermaid drifting in toward the shore.

She crawls up onto the beach and drop to your knees in front of her, swinging the backpack off your shoulders. “I’ve been doing some research,” you say. “Take a look at these.”

You tug out the cheap laminated binder you purchased to protect the pages and shove it toward her. She barely looks at it before scratching words out in the sand. Cannot read it. Eyes not work well above water. Print too small.

“Oh,” you say, a little embarrassed that you didn’t think of that. Your mermaid looks uncomfortable as well, perhaps hurt by the reminder of how much she’s lost. “That’s fine, I can read out the important stuff anyway.”

You pick out the bits of the document you highlighted and read them out loud to her. She crawls closer, fin-like ears twitching every now and then. By the time you’re done, she’s practically leaning against you and hanging off your every word.

Yes, she writes as soon as you’re done. I remember that name. Not know about any other experiments. Kept in pen in the ocean. Separate from everything else. Few people saw us. Only remember four individuals.

“But this is good!” you say. “We know they’re the ones who did this to you, and we know there are others. We just need to get some people in law enforcement to see you and hear from you and then we can-”

She’s already shaking her head. No.

“I know you’re afraid of other people, but maybe we can work out some kind of deal and I can advocate for you-”

She’s shaking her head again, even more aggressively this time. NO. She taps the word several times for emphasis. When I stay silent, she continues writing. Will not work. Police brought them people.

Sharp chills shake their way down your spine. “Th- what?”

She taps that sentence again. Police brought them people. Your stomach turns. “You’re sure?”

Yes. Police suggested study to me. Heard scientists talking about police bringing in criminals. Gave them a good pool of people. She lowers her hand, frowning at the sentence.

“So, what,” you say, trying not to sound as frightened as you feel, “there’s just a conspiracy to hand over people to a business that does experiments on them to turn them into merpeople?”

She considers this for a moment. Yes. Police probably do not know about mermaids. Probably just think medical experimentation. But they are probably paid to bring in people and less homeless means police look better. It works for both groups.

“God, that’s…” you trail off. There aren’t words that you can use to describe what you’re feeling. Hopeless is maybe the best way to say it. If you can’t contact the police, then what are you supposed to do? Break in yourself?

You actually entertain the idea for a few seconds before realizing how asinine that is. Maybe in a movie an untrained nobody could sneak into a massive medical facility and release the trapped mermaids they were keeping secret and reveal their shady dealings with the police, but somehow, you figure that’s only going to end in disaster. You’re just some goddamn office worker. You can’t even do five push ups without being winded, never mind sneaking into a secure facility.

“Have you ever tried to break back in?” you ask. Maybe you can’t get in, but if she got out somehow, there must be a way. She grimaces and shakes her head.

Yes. I got out because of temporary power outage combined with technology fault. I was being tested in ocean pool and the electrical lock keeping me inside failed. There was a storm- I assume power outage and generator fault created a window of opportunity. Only went back once, and was nearly recaptured. They don’t seem interested in hunting me down as long as I don’t go there. But I can’t get close enough to do anything. Her tail slaps the sand hard, sending a combination of grit and water spraying at you. She looks chagrined instantly, and tries to wipe you down. Her hand is actually less slick than you thought it would be. It’s still wet, obviously, because she’s been in the ocean, but her palms are actually kind of grippy. It’s a fascinating texture. Before you really think about what you’re doing, you take her hand in both of hers. Not really doing anything with it, just holding and kind of massaging it with your thumbs.

You’ve hardly held her for more than a second when she makes a noise akin to a squeak. You jerk your head up to look at her and she’s staring back at you with eyes the size of saucers.

You drop the hand. “I should have asked before touching, I’m so sorry-”

No! She goes to the trouble of writing the exclamation point and hits the ground a few times to emphasize her point. When she’s sure you’re listening, she writes more. Liked it. No human contact in long time. Was nice.

Oh. Yes, of course. She’s been at sea and you’re the first person she’s talked to, much less had physical contact with. And even before that… you’re not sure how long she was held captive, but surely the scientists there weren’t handing out hugs and kisses with their experimentation.

As she gazes up at you with her sea-deep, dark eyes, your chest tightens. She must be so lonely. How has she survived out here all this time? Humans need to be with other people, you know that much. Isolation is torture. But she’s been out here all this time, with no one to talk to or even just hold her hand to comfort her.

It’s a bit awkward to hug someone who’s mostly lying down in the sand, but you’re determined and she’s not that heavy. It ends with her half-slung over your shoulder with your arms holding her firmly in place.

“It’s okay,” you say. Your tone isn’t quite steady enough to be reassuring, but you hope the emotion in it conveys how important this is to you. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

Her arms wrap around your shoulder. They’re clumsy, like she can’t quite remember how to hug anymore, but she gets it after a few moments. She clings to you as fiercely as you’re clinging to her.

The visits come as often as you can manage, after that. If you had it your way, they would probably be every day, but you need to work and you just don’t function very well without sleep. You do manage a forty-eight hour stretch once, but practically falling asleep at the beach can be dangerous, and your mermaid gives you a vicious tirade that only gets worse when you pass out again while she’s still writing it.

So. As often as you can. More or less, that’s about three times a week. Most nights you spend chatting, talking about your lives. She was a custodian at a department store, until a bought of illness left her unable to work and ate up her savings. By the time she had mostly recovered, she was homeless and still struggling to do her old job. She’d been recommended to the medical trial by police who had found her sleeping on the street, and had thought it was a wonderful opportunity. And the first week had been good, with her getting regular meals and staying in a room attached to the lab so she could be in a ‘controlled environment.’ There were other people there, too, and she’d spent most of her time making friends.

And then they had finally been ready to administer the first drug. They had told her it would make her sleepy. And it had. She had fallen asleep, more deeply asleep than she’d ever been in her life. Sometimes, she would become conscious again, if only dimly. The only thing she could remember from those periods was a pain so intense that she had fought to fall back into sleep.

Her memory from that period was foggy, she told you. But she knew, even on the few occasions she woke up confused from pain and drugs, that there was something wrong with her body. It wasn’t until she was finally set free of the drugs and the pain had faded to an ache that she realized exactly what had happened. Trapped in a tank only just big enough for her to stretch out in, with a mask over her face to force air through her system, she realized she had been changed into something not human. A mermaid.

Three people died. Or, she assumed they did. She’d met twenty-nine people before the drugs had been given, and only twenty-six merpeople. The experimentation hadn’t stopped after that- they constantly prodded and poked at the merpeople, but it was never as awful as it had been in the beginning.

Six months. That was how long she was trapped. Or, close to it, anyway- she didn’t have a calendar. Her escaping had been a fluke- one quick moment of chance that she took advantage of.

It is better, she said, to be out here. Scary. But better.

They had never hunted her down or tried to recapture her, beyond the new security measures at the lab. Neither of you were sure why. Maybe they thought it would draw more attention to her, or maybe they fully expected her to be unable to survive on her own and were just waiting for someone to find her corpse. Regardless, she was relieved. It meant she was able to stick around the area. Even if she couldn’t actually visit her home anymore, she was loathe to leave.

After learning the whole story, you do as much digging as you can manage, which isn’t much. No amount of searching brings up anything specific enough to be of much help. There are hundreds of mermaid sightings all over the world, and only three of them are local enough to possibly be her. Looking at Wellterra is no more useful- just pages and pages of bland corporate speak about the medicine they’re developing. The most suspicious thing you can find is a page on their website claiming they ‘desire for humans to live in harmony with the planet, and strive to create medicines that work with nature,’ which could honestly also just be corporate posturing. No pages of conspiracy theories. No secretive posts on old forums from disgraced ex-employees. Nothing.

It’s possible there’s more information you can find off the usual search engines, but you’re not sure how to access it. Technology has never been your strong suit. It’s frustrating that you can’t find anything more, though your mermaid comforts you when you apologize to her.

Is fine. Good that you are here. It helps. She pats your arm, leaning forward so she’s almost in your lap. She’s been getting cozier with you, not that you mind. You pat her head, running your fingers through her hair. When you catch a knot, you pause and delicately untangle it. She makes a low humming noise in her throat, eyes closing in relaxation.

“I’m glad I can do something,” you say, trying not to sound bitter. You nudge the container of chicken wings toward her. You’ve been bringing food for her through the past few visits.

Early on in your visits, you asked her what she ate. She shrugged. Anything. Have to catch it. Tastes better than I thought it would. After that, you started picking up food for the two of you to eat together. She has a strong preference for seafood, but she’ll sometimes ask you to being food she remembers from her human life. You oblige as often as you can. You’re still trying to save up to get her a proper steak, though.

Your mermaid drags the container of chicken wings toward her. She picks one up and bits down on it, severing cleanly through the bone. You wince a little at the crunching noise. After a few moments of chewing, she picks up the top of the container, which is soaked in sauce, and licks it once before ripping out a chunk of it with her teeth.

That was the weirdest thing about her. The bones thing is weird, but understandable. But the fact that she eats Styrofoam is quite a bit stranger. In fact, the limit on what she will eat seems to be nonexistent.

Can eat anything, she tells you when you ask about it. Fed us many things in lab. Plastic. Styrofoam. One got sick from it, had to get it cut out. But rest of us could eat it fine. Does not taste as good as other things. But easier to find. Do not know how it works.

It’s certainly strange, but you suppose it saves a little money on food, since she’s just as willing to eat the packaging. She’s even enthusiastic about it, noting that the flavor from fresh food packaging is much better than the stuff in the ocean. The only things she wont eat are glass and metal, but plastic, wax, and paper are fair game.

“I wish there was a better signal here,” you say as she chews through another chunk of Styrofoam. “I could show you some of my favorite shows.”

I would like that. She stretches out on the beach. Little to do in ocean.

“Swimming around has to get old eventually,” you say.

Yes. Is beautiful. But can become tedious. She leans against you, practically falling into your lap. You stroke her head. It’s getting toward the end of summer and the nights are a little cooler now. She seems to appreciate the touch more when it gets cold. She’s not quite cool to the touch, but she’s a bit colder than a human would be. You don’t mind, not when she seems so completely delighted by your presence.

You shift your legs under her and she makes a strange noise, like a choked-off whimper. You freeze. “What’s the matter?”

She shakes her head, but when you move again, you feel something against her skin. A little change in texture, one that makes her groan when you touch it. “Let me see,” you insist, slipping out from under her and trying to flip her over. She squirms away from you, too strong for you to move her without her help, but a smear in the sand tells you what you need to know- she’s got a cut and it’s bleeding.

“I can tell that you’re injured,” you say insistently. She makes a move like she’s going to try and slip back into the waves, so you grab her arm. If she really wanted to, she could probably break free. But she allows you to hold on. After a moment of halfhearted struggling, she goes limp, then flops over onto her back.

The wound isn’t as bad as you initially worried. In fact, most of it looks rather old. The two ends of the wound are already healed over with scar tissue, but the middle part of the wound is still covered in half-formed scabs. It’s hard to tell how deep it is, but it doesn’t exactly look shallow. There’s blood leaking from the middle part of the wound in a steady trickle, but it looks more like some of the scabs got ripped off than like she’s bleeding profusely.

“You should have said something,” you fuss. You poke the wound and she snaps her teeth at you nonthreateningly. “Don’t be like that. I should have thought to bring bandages or a first aid kit or something here, god I’m so stupid.”

She shakes her head furiously, wet hair slapping back and forth. After a moment of struggle, she twists her arm around enough to write. Not fault. Would not help. Bandage not stay on in water.

“I could still have gotten you some antibiotics or something,” you say, anxious. “How did you even get that?”

She shrugs. Ocean dangerous. Not many predators. But strong currents. Sharp objects. Can get injured.

“Fuck,” you mutter. All you can think about are the myriad of diseases someone can get from a cut like this. She’s almost certainly not up to date on her tetanus shot. “How long ago?”

She shrugs. 1 week. Healed quickly.

You grimace. It does look pretty well-healed for only a week, and there don’t seem to be any signs of infection. But that doesn’t mean you’re not nervous. “I’ll come back tomorrow with a first-aid kit. I want to at least try to patch some parts of it up.”

Your mermaid seems unconcerned, but she doesn’t protest. Once she polishes off both the chicken wings and the container, you take your leave. She turns and vanishes back into the water, and you watch until her tail slips beneath the waves and doesn’t come back up.

The train ride home is quiet, and usually, you’re half-asleep for it. This time, thought, you can’t get your mind to settle down. You’ve just been taking it for granted that she would come back to you every day, like you’re meeting a friend for coffee. But the ocean is dangerous, and she can get hurt. There’s always a possibility that one day, you’ll come back to the ocean and she won’t appear again.

You leave work early to put together the best, most waterproof first-aid kit you can. At least if she can stash it somewhere in the water, she’ll have something she can use to help herself even if you’re not there.

You end up at the beach earlier than usual, and pace the sand for a while. That nervous energy in your body makes the time drag on and on, like the sun is deliberately crawling through the sky.

Finally, the beach closes and it gets dark. The moon, a sliver of a crescent, rises into the sky. You wait by the shore, sitting so that the waves just barely roll in over your toes. And wait. And wait.

The moon reaches three-quarters of the way across the sky before you really start to panic. Was she sick? Did the reopening of the wound trigger some sort of infection? Or was she caught in a current again, the wound on her side making her too weak to fight against it?

You don’t know. You can’t know. And that yawning chasm of knowledge fills your stomach with a deep and terrible pit.

Panic is starting to choke you when there’s a splash, a tail appearing above the water. Your chest releases and you half run to the water to meet her as she comes into shore.

As soon as she’s above the water enough for your to see her, you realize why she’s been late. She’s covered in netting. It’s tangled around her right arm and the fin of her tail, pulling both into an awkward position. She can move forward, but it’s clearly a strain to do so, and she collapses on the beach as soon as she’s up on the sand.

“What the fu-” You cut yourself off to suck in a gulp of air and bolt toward her. She reaches for you as soon as you’re close and you haul her a short ways up the beach before taking a look at the rope wrapped around her.

It’s definitely some kind of netting, though you’re not sure if it’s the sort used to block human swimmers from entering dangerous areas, the sort used to catch fish, or something else entirely. But it’s wrapped around her tail fin and her arm enough to restrict movement, and even tight enough to almost cut off circulation at her wrist. You fumble for your first aid kit and tear through it- there’s a small set of scissors there to cut bandages. It’s only just big enough to get around the rope, so you start sawing away.

The rope is made of some kind of plastic fibers, and after a few minutes of sawing, it just feels like you’re destroying your scissors. Cutting each of the individual fibers instead of going after the whole thing at once works better, but it’s still slow. Eventually, you manage to whittle the rope connecting her arm and her tail down to only a few fibers. She flexes and the remaining fibers snap. Immediately, she lifts her wrist to her mouth and uses her teeth to saw through the rest of the ropes. There’s a purple-red mark where the rope was.

You and her work together to saw the rest of the ropes off her body. With her movements much less restricted, she’s able to stretch around and chew off some of the rope while you tug away areas that are less reachable. Finally, the beach is littered with pieces of shredded rope and she is free.

“Are you okay?” you ask, poking and prodding to check her for injuries. She makes a short, affectionate noise and nudges you away so she can write.

Yes. Ran into net caught in current. Tangled. Struggling made it tighter. Could not escape. Came here. She nuzzles close to you. Saved me.

You pet her head. “If that rope had been any tighter, you could have lost your hand. You could barely move!” Panic is making it hard for you to breathe. You practically clutch her against your chest. She snuggles close to you. “What if that happens again and you can’t get out? I’ll never know what happened to you!”

She shrugs, twisting in your grip to write again. Ocean dangerous.

“No shit it’s dangerous!” you say. “The ocean’s a goddamn hellhole.”            She makes a wheezing-screeching noise that you’ve come to realize is her natural laugh. Ha ha ha. Her expression grows somber. Nowhere else to go. Must stay here.

She’s right, of course. She can do nothing else but stay in the ocean and wait until something kills her. The thought makes your stomach ache.

“There has to be something,” you say. “I can’t let you stay here.”

She gives another shrug, even more halfhearted this time. You pat her head absently as you think. There has to be something you can do.

Eventually, something comes to mind. It’s not a good idea, necessarily, but it’s something. You nudge her, because she’s falling asleep against your shoulder. “Hey. How salty does the water you’re in need to be?”

Thank god, salinity level was something the scientists tested. It’s not comfortable for her to go from one salinity to the other, but it is possible, and it’s easier for her to go from high salinity to low salinity than the other way around. Her body is apparently able to adjust after a little bit. That’s a relief. It means your option is at least tenable.

She seems hesitant when you tell her about it. Concerned. Have not left sea.

“I know it’s an adjustment, but you’ll be safer. No one ever comes by and it’s not the cleanest area ever, but I can help you clean it up. Getting there is going to take some doing, but it’s not going to be impossible.” She hesitates. “Think about it. I’ll give you a couple days. I need to figure out the logistics anyway.” She nods and you help her back into the water. She swims away slowly, and a knot ties itself into your stomach as she vanishes.

You have to work the next day, but you spend every spare minute you have looking for something to make the whole plan work. The biggest issue with the whole thing is the concern about transportation- she’s bigger than you are, because her tail is longer than human legs, and there aren’t a lot of good options for hauling around someone who can’t walk. You toy with the idea of a wheelchair- you can rent one and it’s relatively inexpensive, but you’re not sure how well it’ll actually work. She doesn’t have hips the same way humans do, so she can’t sit up, and her tailfin would probably dangle off the end and get caught in the wheels. You also consider a wheelbarrow, which would actually be easier to get, but there’s still the problem of her fitting in it. It’s not going to be a comfortable fit by any stretch of the imagination.

The solution you settle upon is more expensive than you’d like, but probably the safest and most workable. You can rent one of the smaller u-haul trucks and set up a rented kiddie pool in it. You’ll be able to drive her a good chunk of the distance, even if you won’t be able to get all the way there. Then, hopefully, you can use a wheelbarrow to get her the rest of the way.

It’s not an easy solution (in fact, you’re already feeling sore just thinking about it) but it seems the safest and likeliest to work. The next day, you travel back down to the seashore to tell her your plan.

She is less than enthusiastic, but willing enough. You rent the truck, a small swimming pool, and spend the next couple of days sorting everything out. Luckily, you don’t call out sick all that often, so your faked illness doesn’t get a lot of scrutiny. Once it’s reasonably dark on the second day, you set up the pool in the truck, fill it halfway with water, and get in the driver’s seat.

Driving to the beach is faster than taking the train, so you end up there earlier than you anticipated. You buy an extra-large serving of fried cod and head down to the beach to wait. There are only a few people around, and none of them pay much attention to you. If you squint down the shoreline, you can see, off in the distance, a building set into the coast. It glints under the moonlight. It looks tiny, but menacing. You shrug off a shudder. If they haven’t come for her before, they won’t now. Everything is fine.

Finally, the last few people clear off the beach. As soon as you’re certain they’re gone, you head down to the edge of the water. Your mermaid emerges only moments later, tail swinging through the surf. She heaves herself up onto shore.

“The truck’s that way,” you say, pointing off beyond the boardwalk. It’s the closest available parking lot, but you still can’t see it from the beach. She grimaces. “We just need to make it there, and then you can rest. We’ll take breaks if we need to.” You show her the fried cod. “And I have your favorite for when we’re done.”            Her grimace softens and she makes a noise of agreement. Slowly, bit by bit, you start to make your way up the beach.

The way she moves on land looks like a combination between a seal and someone doing the worm very enthusiastically. She braces herself with her hands on the ground, tenses, then uses the powerful muscles of her tail against the ground to heave herself forward. Sometimes, she tries to pull herself forward with just her arms, but that seems to be a more exhausting endeavor. Not to mention, it pulls her across the sand, which can’t feel comfortable on her bare skin.

You make it almost to the edge of the boardwalk before she stops moving outright and collapses in the sand. Her gills and sides heave with her desperate gasps for air. You crouch next to her. “Just a little further, okay? We can take a break. Do you need water?” You offer her the enormous water bottle you have, one of two. She sips from it, then splashes water over her face and gills. It doesn’t help her breathe, apparently, but her gills can easily get irritated from being in open air too long.

“We can just sit here until-” A flashlight beam swings through the air, roving across the beach. It misses you by inches. We freeze. “Crap. Crap crap crap crap crap.”

She makes a high-pitched, frantic squeal before remembering you’re supposed to be stealthy and shuts up. Her tail flops against the sand as she struggles forward, but she’s tired enough that it’s not much motion. You grimace. The light is coming closer, and it’s between you and the sea and you really don’t want to get caught. Security guards will turn you over to the police and if the police are in on it, you don’t want to alert them.

Okay. Plan B. You drop into a crouch in front of her. “Get on!” you hiss. She claws her way up onto your back, nails digging into your shoulders. It hurts, but you don’t have time to get her into a better position. Instead, you reach back to grab ahold of her tail, make sure she’s not at risk of falling off, and push yourself to your feet.

Your knees protest and tremble as you get up, and the sliding sand doesn’t make things any easier. Maybe mermaids are lighter than humans, because she’s well over six feet long and you’re pretty sure you couldn’t lift a human her size. But maybe it’s also the adrenaline running through your veins that gives you the boost. You haul her, on your back, to the boardwalk, clear the steps, and full-on sprint to your truck.

It feels like you’re going to collapse before you get there, but you make it. You crouch in front of the truck while the mermaid unlocks the back door (your hands are still occupied holding her) and once it’s unlatched, you swing her inside. You don’t stop to see if she makes it in the pool. You just slam the door shut, relatch it, and throw yourself in the driver’s seat.

Really, you’re not actually sure you’re being followed. You might not be. The security guards don’t tend to chase people who have left the beach- it’s not their job. But you’re adrenaline-high and panicked, so you just tear ass through the streets until your racing heart has slowed enough that you feel safe stopping.

You pull over and hurry around to check the back of the truck. Your mermaid is sprawled across the back of the truck, only halfway into the pool, and looking disgruntled and carsick. Water is splashed all over the back of the truck, leaving a relatively small amount in the pool. “S-sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I, uh. Didn’t mean for that to happen.”

She waves a hand nonchalantly at you. “You good to keep going?” you ask. She grimaces, but nods. “You’re sure?” She gives you a look you’re pretty sure translates as ‘let’s just get this over with.’

You lock up the doors and head out on the road again. This time, you’re gentler on the brake and the turns, and there isn’t a lot of thumping or complaining from the back, which seems like a good sign.

It’s about an hour and a half of driving before you arrive at the end of the road. You’re not at your destination, you’re just as far as you can get in a car. You unlock the back of the truck and peek inside.

“How are you doing?” you ask. She’s fully inside the pool now, though a lot of the water has sloshed out. She shrugs, grimacing. “We’re almost there. Just a bit further, okay?”

She grunts, heaves herself out of the pool, and crawls her way over to you. “Give me a sec,” you say, and instead of helping her out, you crawl in next to her. With some fumbling, you tug at the straps securing a heavy wheelbarrow to the wall.

“I know it’s a tight fit,” you say as you push the wheelbarrow out. It lands on the edge of the road with a heavy thunk. “But it’s the easiest way to transport you.”

She looks annoyed, but she is able to at least mostly squeeze herself into it. The positioning requires her to pull her tail fin up to her chest, but she seems… well, not comfortable, but able to hold the position.

You heft up the wheelbarrow and start walking. It’s easier than just straight up carrying her, but the journey is mostly uphill, so it’s not exactly comfortable. There’s also not a path, so shoving the wheelbarrow over the uneven ground is not easy. The walk’s fifteen minutes on your own, but dragging along the wheelbarrow extends it to over a half an hour. But finally, you make it to the expansive lake.

The lake is large, several miles wide at least, and twice as deep as she is long in the deepest areas. People swim here in the midst of summer, but no one is supposed to, and they only ever stick toward the outermost edges. But the part that reassures you the most is that the area is strictly forbidden for boats, and fishing, and it’s a relatively peaceful area. At the very least, it’s far away from the dangers of the ocean.

“What do you think?” you ask. She perks up, gazing out over the lake. Her posture is completely still. Then she twists her body in one huge motion and launches herself over the edge of the wheelbarrow and into the lake. Water splashes over you and you shriek.

There’s a ripple in the water and she’s gone. For a moment, there’s no sign of her. Then her head emerges several feet away. She swims back to you and perches on the shore, shaking water out of her hair.

“What do you think?” you ask. She glances around, but there’s no sand here to write in. “Oh, right!” You fumble around and finally grab your final gift for her. “Here. I thought this might be a problem. So, uh. Housewarming gift?”

She rips into the packaging with her teeth and reveals an erasable whiteboard with a small container of markers. Her expression brightens and she hurries to uncap one of the markers and write. Thank you.

“Sure, sure!” You crouch next to her. “So, uh. How is it? You think you’re going to be okay here?”

She glances around for a bit, taking it in. Water colder. Slimier also. Garbage in some areas.

“Oh,” you say, shoulders drooping. “Sorry, I thought-”

She waves a hand in front of your face to cut you off and keeps writing. But is calmer than ocean. Peaceful. Appreciate. Not need to hide so much. Currents easier. She ducks underwater for a moment and surfaces with a smile. Like it.

You relax. You hadn’t even realized how tense you were about her potentially not liking this place. “Good.” You offer her the box of fried fish and she rips into it eagerly. “I’ll come up here over the next few days, to make sure you’re settled in and get you things, but I’m not going to be able to be here as often after that. It takes a lot longer to get here.”

Her face falls so quickly it’s heartbreaking. She doesn’t even bother to write anything. She makes a frantic wailing noise in her throat and snatches at your shirt. “Woah, hey, hey!” You slip from the unexpected grabbing, and she releases you before you can tumble into the water. She whines apologetically, but she’s still giving you the fishy equivalent of puppy dog eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could visit more often too. But I can’t miss more work and it takes a long time to get here unless I’m renting a car, and I can’t afford to do that every week.” She ducks partially under the water, sulking. “I’m sorry. Really.” She stares at you. “I’ll try to visit every weekend. As often as I can. I’m not going to abandon you, I promise-”

She surges out of the water, grabs the front of your shirt, and before you can really process what she’s doing, she’s pressed her mouth to yours.

She feels cooler than a human kiss, and wetter as well. Her mouth is salty and you can feel her sharp teeth behind her lips. Her nose brushes against yours as she tilts her head sideways and tingles shoot down your spine.

Mermaids must not need as much air as humans, because when you break the kiss, you’re practically seeing spots from oxygen deprivation. She clings to you anyway, still making sad whining noises. You hook your arms around her and squeeze her to your chest.

“I- I know. It sucks. I don’t like it either,” you say. “I’ll figure something out. So that we don’t have to be apart for too long. I promise.”

She clings to you tighter. You press a kiss to her forehead and give her one final squeeze. When she slips slowly into the water again, her hand stays in yours, fingertips touching, for as long as she can possibly manage.

It takes some fussing, but you come up with a short-term solution- cell phones. There’s reception near the lake, though it’s sometimes spotty, and simpler cell phones are pretty cheap. You get the best rated waterproof version and present it to her the next time you’re up there. Her excited shrilling is music to your ears.

You text back and forth every day. She sends you videos of her swimming around, of interesting creatures that come by during the day. You send her videos back of mundane things, like your breakfast or your trip to work. You’ve spent a small fortune on power banks, so she can keep her phone charged at all times, but it’s worth it when you can get on a call with her and listen to a podcast together.

Every week, you head up to the lake to visit her. Even in the winter, when it was chilly and a thin sheet of ice formed over the top of the pond, you visited. She was more sluggish then, rather sleepy, but she would still force herself awake every time you visited, slotting her body against yours and humming happily at your warmth.

When spring rolls around again, she perks back up. The lake is more beautiful than you ever remember it being- maybe it’s because she ate a good deal of the trash off the banks during the winter, but the water looks clear and beautiful, and the animals are more plentiful than ever. Sometimes you get a creeping sensation on the way up to the lake, like you’re being watched. But nothing ever happens, so you chalk it up to paranoia. You’ve seen neither hide nor hair from the Wellterra people, and no one ever comes investigating about the beach incident. After a year of waiting, you’re finally ready to accept that the immediate danger is over.

It takes another couple of years of saving and scrimping and visits to the lake before you’re ready to take the next step. It would have taken longer if not for your mermaid. Apparently, you can find all kinds of strange things in the lakebed, and some of them are old pieces of jewelry that can be sold for decent prices. She presses them into your hands with glee, eager to help you.

After so long of waiting, you rent a house only a couple miles from the lake. It’s sort of dilapidated, but you’ve got some experience trying to fix stuff in your apartment, and it’s got more space and, most importantly, it’s close to her. You can walk to her with relatively little difficulty.

The day of your moving in, you head to the lake. “Aliyah!” you call, dropping down next to the lake’s edge. She emerges from the water, laughing in delight. “Hi, hon,” you say as she pulls herself onto the shore and into your lap. She’s dripping wet, but you’ve gotten used to it by now. She kisses at your lips impatiently. “Hi, yes, I’m happy to see you! I know it’s been a while.” Prepping for the move had conked you out for a while, but you were thrilled to be back. Apparently, she was too, because she was swaying her tail back and forth in the water, sending little splashes onto shore. “I have something for you,” you say, reaching back to get something out of your bag. She stills, attention focused on your hands.

You lift the box from your bag and hesitate. Nerves crawl through the pit of your stomach. “Uh. Close your eyes.” It’ll be easier to do it if she’s not looking at you. She huffs, but obliges. “Okay. Um.” You carefully shuffle so you’re in a kneeling position and flip the lid of the box up. “You can open.”            She blinks her eyes open and freezes. Resting in the box is a long, silver chain. And attached to the chain is a simple diamond ring.

“I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to keep a ring on underwater,” you say, “so I attached it to a necklace. But it still means the same thing.” You lift the necklace from the box and hold it out for her inspection. “I know we can’t really get married, but… I thought maybe the ring could mean something anyway. I’ve got one too, so other people will know that I have someone and that I’m committed to you.”

You are knocked over by her enthusiastic surge out of the water. She soaks you as she tackles you to the ground, kisses spilling all over your face with enthusiasm. You giggle helplessly, overwhelmed and adored.

It’s a strange relationship. But it’s the one you want. It’s the one you love.

[lurkingshan]

Inspired by @waitmyturtles and @nieves-de-sugui, sharing my journey through BL! Putting this under a read more because I really found a lot of words on this topic. Feel free to skim at will - now that you got me going I have a lot to say!

First, a bit of background. Three big interests of mine really converged to make BL kind of a perfect storm for me:

Romance: I have been an avid consumer of romance stories as far as back as I can remember. When I was a kid I would read several books a week and before I even hit my tween years I always gravitated to the romance genre. Add in film and television and it's safe to say I haven't gone a week of my life without consuming some form of a story about two people falling in love. It is absolutely my shit.

Asian dramas: More recent but no less intense an obsession for me. I watched my first kdrama in 2019 - my favorite gossip blogger (shoutout to Lainey) was constantly posting about a drama on Netflix (It's Okay Not to Be Okay). So I decided to try it out and I instantly fell in love. Kdramas are written nearly exclusively by women, they respect romance as a genre, and they cater to female audiences. It was unlike anything I ever experienced watching Western media. I started watching them more frequently, then when the pandemic hit I found myself with a ton of time at home and a fun new focus issue, and watching dramas with subtitles was a huge help.

Fandom: Since I was a teen I was always kind of hopping in and around internet fandom. When I like something, I like to enjoy it with others and find community around shared interests. And when I'm frustrated with media, I really like to dig into that and explore ways to fix it, so I became an avid fanfic reader, as well. Fandom to fandom my level of involvement varied - sometimes I just lurk around fandom spaces, sometimes I actually develop a presence, and in one instance I even got deeply involved in a fandom community to the point where I was posting meta, writing fic, and leading fan activities.

ANYWAY, after that long preamble, I come to the point: Because I was so into kdramas, and had watched/read a lot of Western QL romances, when I saw Where Your Eyes Linger pop up on my Viki recommendations I clicked on it. I liked it, and immediately wanted to understand more about it, because it was the first kdrama I had ever seen with a same sex pairing, and the format was so different. So I did a bit of research, and that was the first time I ever heard of BL. I was a little mind blown - there's a whole genre of QL romances in Asia??? So of course I set out to find more. I did a general search and the first thing I found was 2gether. This was June of 2021, so it was already about a year following the initial frenzy of that show, but it was still hugely popular and there was fan content about it everywhere. So I journeyed to YouTube to watch it, and that was my introduction to Thai BL and the wider genre.

From there I started looking for guidance on what to watch, and because of my time in various fandoms tumblr was always a go-to place where I knew I could find other people watching whatever obscure thing I was into. I found @absolutebl quickly and started reading their history and analysis posts on the genre. That was when it really sunk in for me how much culture and history there was to dig into, and I was really intrigued by the different styles and industries of each country. So I started working my way through their lists of the top 10 BLs from each country and it all just kind of spiraled from there.

I will not go into detail about every show I watched, but a few highlights:

TharnType: This was the first high heat BL I ever saw, and because I came over from kdramas, the first high heat Asian show I had seen, period. This show is messy and the writing was a hilarious hodgepodge of strong character work alongside absurd plotting and what I came to learn was typical Mame problematic content, but the chemistry between the leads was off the charts. It really set the bar for me in that respect, and got me looking for other examples (which at that time were mostly from Taiwan).

Theory of Love: This one inspires mixed opinions in fandom, but for me it was the first time I realized a Thai BL could not only be fun, but also good (no disrespect to other early Thai BLs but... yeah lol). There was a coherent emotional narrative arc! Smart story structure! Believable character development and earned redemption! Good actors! This one set me on a path to find the good stuff.

I Told Sunset About You: Which led me to ITSAY, the drama that convinced me BL could also be high cinema and art. This show blew me way, honestly. And got me more interested in finding the other more cinematic entries in the genre, which I mostly found from Japan.

The Untamed: When I saw this one on the list for China, I was like wait why have I heard of that? The Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi is one of those fandoms that is so big and ubiquitous, anyone who spends time online will have heard of it long before they know what it actually is. This show opened up a bunch of new fixations for me - a new all-time fav character, an introduction to cdramas and the xianxia/wuxia genres, and the discovery of Chinese web novels. It's a very expansive universe with a lot going on outside the romance, unlike most BLs. Which I guess can be good or bad, depending on your perspective.

Bad Buddy + Semantic Error: These are the shows I credit for fully sucking me into the BL fandom on tumblr. Before BB aired, I was just kind of lurking about (it’s right there in the handle, fam) checking a few blogs periodically for recommendations and watching shows at my own pace. But BB and then SE caused such a frenzy that I decided to start watching them live and checking tumblr every week for reactions. I found more excellent blogs (like @bengiyo @negrowhat @laowen @liyazaki) that were posting not only BB and SE content but also commentary about other shows. Eventually I gave in and created a new tumblr account so I could actually follow them instead of going to their blogs on web browser like a weirdo, and my participation in fandom escalated predictably from there.

By early 2022 I had pretty much caught up on most of the history of the genre (though not everything - I refuse to watch Waterboyyy, I do have some standards) and developed a fairly solid understanding of the cultural context around it. I then started trying to keep up with new shows. As a cishet, it wasn’t the thrill of representation that drew me into the genre as much as the thrill of finding a genre that brought together so many of my favorite things, combined with the excitement of seeing the community grow and getting the chance to learn so much from the brilliant people who were watching these shows. Checking reactions to airing shows became a weekly habit, and my watchlist kept getting longer and longer. I learned about which platforms I should be watching on and where to direct my $$ to support the genre. And I heard about so many shows I never would have known existed without this community.

So that’s me! If you made it to the end of this post you are a true champion. Thanks for inviting the conversation @waitmyturtles - it was fun to reflect!

[slimeyslimeyballsack]

A Very Crossover Crime

Fandoms: Suite Life on Deck, Z-O-M-B-I-E-S, Criminal Minds, My Little Pony, My Babysitter's a Vampire

Written for @tom-hunter-summah

Parties that may be interested: @whatthekidscallbolt @diagnosed-crazy @calico-kiwi

Warnings: terribly ooc writing, swearing, violence, death, major character death, mentions of SA

Notes: for the sake of clarity the teens are all roughly 19/20, pronouns are whatever i want them to be, fuck bailey all my homies hate bailey, ive never seen my little pony

"Hey Erica, I don't know if this is a good idea."

Rory yelled over the noise of the wind as they flew over Washington. He only kind of knew what was going on as Erica had interrupted him in the middle of his game, announcing she was hungry before promptly leaving again. In the time after the Whitechapel explosion, something had changed between them. Maybe it was because they were the only person she knew, but Erica was choosing to be around them more and more often. Of course, she was still Erica, but the scathing comments became more lighthearted. They were truly becoming friends. Which is why Rory followed her after her surprise outburst; they knew she expected them to.

"It'll be fun. I've always wanted to try zombie blood," she tossed a wink at them as they landed.

"I just think The Council-"

"Bup bup bup. Who do you trust more, the council or me?" she fluttered her lashes.

"Well, you of course," their grin huge.

"Then let's go."

They landed just outside of Seabrook, Washington. Hopping a tall fence placed them in a rundown section of the town, decorated in scrap metal. From what they understood the town was divided into two, humans and zombies, or it was before things got complicated. It was loud and quiet at the same time. There was remarkably little wildlife. It almost unnerved Rory, though they supposed the two vamps may have spooked the local critters, instinct telling them to run and hide. On the other hand, there were voices everywhere. Some were hushed, others big and boisterous. Rory plodded along behind Erica, puppy dog posture contradictory to her cat-like posture. Her sharp eyes, looking for someone that wouldn't be missed.

After what seemed like a hundred hours of searching, well, it's hard to say Rory was searching, but, after a hundred hours of walking, they found two young men smoking a cigarette. Erica gave Rory a look, signaling the attack.

"Oh my god; this is delicious!"

Rory simply nodded enthusiastically in response.

"Now this I could get used to."

_

Two Weeks Later

"Sixteen bodies found in the last two weeks. All in Seabrook, Washington. All victims have been zombies with two puncture wounds in the neck. They were drained of blood." Hotch lectured.

"So what, we've got a vampire on our hands?" Morgan quirked an eyebrowm

Reid piped in, "Or someone who thinks they are. There's actually a popular subculture filled with people who identify as vampires. They wear fangs and sometimes even drink blood"

"Well, whatever they are they're not slowing down. The Seabrook police department has asked us to come in. They want us in by morning."

Hotch's statement signaled they were finished and he dismissed the others to get ready for their flight.

Several hours after their initial briefing, the group sat in the jet, reviewing the case. Everyone was at least two and a half cups deep into their coffee, deciphering eyes staring at the case file. Opinions being thrown back and forth.

JJ spoke up, "Look at the bruising around the neck. It almost looks like-"

"Hickeys," Morgan quirked his eyebrows at the realization.

"According to the autopsy report, the bodies showed no sign of sexual assault. They declared that the bruises were from strangulation." Rossi added, not entirely believing the statement, simply trying to relay it.

Emily, unhappy with this answer, kept on. "Yeah, but I think they might be misidentifying them. Look at the layout of the bruises. Does that look like a human hand to you?"

"It very well could be a misidentification," Reid spoke slowly, eyebrows furrowed as he flipped back and forth between the photos of the victims. "Understanding of zombie biology is very limited. In fact, humans in Seabrook didn't start interacting with them until the "Z-Band" was invented in 1985, and hardly at all beyond that until 2020 after an act passed allowing zombie children to attend regular high school."

"So you're telling me we're working off of nothing?" Morgan said, exasperated.

"Well, not nothing. Look at the puncture wounds on the victims. They're different sizes. That, coupled with the fact that the victims are killed in pairs..."

"We're looking at partners," Rossi finished for Reid.

_

"Now kiddos, before you get off the boat I want to remind you that we're only staying here for a couple days. Don't forget the buddy system, and please be back on the boat by..."

Miss Tutweiller trailed off, the group already having left her sight.

"I can't believe she's still calling us kiddos. We graduated a year ago," Cody remarked.

"Yeah, well maybe if you stopped acting like one she would. I mean, look at that fanny pack," Zack pointed out.

"I'll have you know that this fanny pack—"

"Would you two shut up? You're both acting like kids," Bailey sniped.

Zack, Cody, Woody, and Bailey walked around the Main Street square of Seabrook, Washington. It was abnormally barren, considering the gorgeous weather. Only a few lonely bodies walked the streets. Most of them were people from the ship. Actually, looking at it Cody realized they were all people from the ship.

"Ooh, frozen yogurt. I hope they have double seaberry swirl," Woody grinned excitedly.

They ducked into the frozen yogurt shop, relieved to find at least someone from the town occupying it: A teen couple, a gray-skinned, green-haired boy across the table from a white-haired girl with healthier-looking skin. They looked frightened if she was being honest. That is until a hand was shoved into their faces.

"Well howdy there. I'm Bailey. Wah wah wah. Wah wah."

She continued introducing them. She was speaking. He was sure of it.

"So you haven't heard," the girl, Addison, spoke.

"There's been murders here in Seabrook. Everyone's scared out of their minds."

If murder wasn't enough to make her jump out of her seat then murders plural sure was.

"Hehe. What?" Zack chuckled nervously, mouth left open, hand hanging loosely in half protest.

"That's it! I'm out of here, seaberry swirl or not!" Woody ran from the parlor.

Zack followed after him, "Hey, Woody. Wait—"

He was cut off abruptly after running into something. Or someone, it would appear. It was a blonde guy about his age, a little shorter than him.

"Well, hello there good lookin'," Zack smirked.

"Well, don't you look tasty," came another voice.

A blonde girl was standing beside him, their tongue gliding across their lower lip as they studied Zack.

"Wow, double babe alert."

"I'm Erica, and this is my..." the girl did a once over on the guy next to her, "friend, Rory." Rory gave him a grin.

"I'm Zack."

"You know Zack, it's not safe to be out here all alone," Erica dragged her finger down his arm, "Things are pretty scary around here."

Zack, only slightly distracted by the touch, responded, "Aha, but I'm not alone. I've got my pal Woody with me," he looked around, "Woody?"

"You were saying?"

"Zack, there you are. Why did you run off like that? Didn't you hear what that girl said? People are getting murdered. Where's Woody?"

Cody quickly interrupted the tension. Whether or not that was for the better, Zack couldn't tell yet.

"You guys look a little lost," Erica said, eyeing up Cody and Bailey, "Let us show you around. We can help you find your friend."

Bailey spoke some words of confirmation, and Erica pushed herself between Bailey and Cody, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. Rory placed themself next to Zack, and they began walking.

_

Hotch stood in front of the entire Seabrook police department. He despised their demeanor, how little they seemed to care about the nightmarish events happening beneath their noses. As if every zombie in this town could be killed and they still wouldn't give a damn. The whole town was just a tad too cheery, the pastel exterior simply a facade, hiding terrible horrors inside. Something was off, but he couldn't tell what. He cleared his throat, gathering the attention of the room.

"You're looking for a pair: a man and a woman between the ages 18 and 25. They are going to be very close to each other, possibly siblings or partners. They are incredibly loyal to each other and will die before turning the other in. The woman is going to be the dominant partner. She is calling all of the shots," Hotch finished presenting the profile and stepped off the podium.

"You think they'll listen?" Rossi asked.

"I'm not sure."

"They don't seem too interested in catching these guys," Emily added.

"We need to be out there. We need to be doing something," Morgan said.

"No. We've been instructed to stay at the station. We are going to stay at the station," Hotch retorted.

Morgan stormed off. He found a bench outside of the station and sat on it. Huffing, he picked up his cell phone.

"Babygirl, what can you tell me about Seabrook."

_

"Erica! What are we going to do? There's police everywhere. I can't go to jail!"

Rory was panicking. The other three had all needed to use the bathroom and Rory had taken the time to panic.

"Relax; they're on our side remember?"

Erica placed a soft grip on her shoulder, physically comforting her but still giving a look that said 'Dude, duh'.

"Oh. Right," Rory chuckled embarrassedly.

"Now as soon as the cops get here, Bailey and Cody are going to attack us, and the cops are going to arrest them, and then we get to go home with some major cash in our pockets," they winked at her.

"Well, not home."

Even Erica seemed a little dejected at that statement. She missed Whitechapel. She missed Sarah. It had been three years. Three years of wandering. The two had never really assimilated into the group, always kind of outsiders, never making any real friends.

Erica noticed several officers loitering, several with hands hovering their weapons.

"Hey guys I—"

Bailey and Cody quickly grabbed Rory and Erica, bearing their teeth. There was a look of fear in both of their eyes. What the fuck was going on?

"Help!" Erica screamed. The two began to let out cries.

"What are you doing?" Cody whispered. "How are you doing this?"

Erica looked at her and gave a small grin before continuing her yelling. The police officers, now aware of the situation raised their weapons, pointing toward the scene.

"Step away from them and put your hands in the air," an officer shouted.

Erica released her hold on Cody, panting slightly, two people under her control was pushing her limit. Cody quickly removed herself from Erica, taking several steps back, hands in the air.

"Ma'am, step away from the man."

Bailey opened her mouth and—bang! Bailey crumpled to the ground.

"Bailey!" Cody screamed. He fell to his knees, sobbing.

The police took the opportunity to run in, cuffing Cody before lifting her, dragging her across the pavement before they pushed her into the back of the car.

_

Zack stared, horrified at what had just happened. Cody and Bailey had attacked Erica and Rory. Why did they do that? Why did they do that? Why didn't Bailey let go when the police showed up? Why did she try to bite Rory? Bailey was dead. They shot her. He watched it happen. He didn't do anything. He just sat and watched. What the hell happened? It was a blur as the three of them were escorted to the station for witness statements. He had half a mind to think that there should've been an ambulance, but he didn't have the voice to ask why there wasn't. Where was Woody? He hadn't seen him since the yogurt shop. He noticed, not only the police as they entered the station. Is that the FBI? They sat him at a table in an interrogation room. He was given some water and snacks.

"Now son," an officer sat in front of him, "tell me what happened."

"My friends attacked those guys."

In the lobby, Erica and Rory were talking to another officer.

"Well done, you've done much to help with our little zombie problem. You two can go ahead and go home."

Erica gave Rory a high five and a grin. "Let's go home."

A bright purple light flashed just outside of Seabrook. Twilight Sparkle looked around at her friends and their new human forms. They had made it to Seabrook. "Come on everypony; there's a friendship crisis that needs solving!"

End.

[stupidmonster988]

HI! First post- so um- I’m here to introduce you to my welcome home OC!

But first, I wanna give you a little information about myself!

I don’t feel comfortable stating my age unless we are close. So if you would like to know that I feel free to leave me a message and become good friends with me! You can call me Barnaby/Bippy! These have been my names before Welcome home has even been created- I’ve had many people ask if I took it from the character, but no I did not! I have autism, ADHD, bipolar disorder, anxiety/depression, and DID/OSDD!  My interest include; five nights at Freddy’s, happy tree friends, musicals, welcome home and the amazing digital circus!  Now allow me to go onto my Sona/OC!

TRAVIS SUNSPOT LADYS AND GENTLEMEN!(this is not my art! My amazing friend made it for me!! I did still come up with the idea and concept though)

Travis can be heard being called Tracy around the neighborhood. It’s a little nickname!

They are gender fluid, which means you might see me mixup pronouns here a little bit, but I promise I’m still talking about the same person! Tracy is 27 years old and runs the local train station there! Sunspot station! He is a very kind and bubbly neighbor, who is always willing to help. Standing at around 8 feet tall, he is a part of the more taller gang! He is very good friends with Eddie considering they both have jobs where they have to move around a lot and they often times help each other out! Travis will only wear their train station conductor outfit during work time, but out of it it really depends how he feels! He has been seen wearing, suits, oversized hoodies, etc. etc.

Travis has a major interest in trains! They could go on and on about them for hours. Travis has certain cars on the train specially made that way people can draw on them. He lets Wally and the other neighbors do so. He is very good friends with Barnaby! He laughs very hard at his jokes— they have kind of like a brother bond relationship.

Travis has a Australian accent!

How he got to the neighborhood;

Travis doesn’t have the best memory, considering he is a dog. A golden retriever to be exact. But he grew up with his parents who were train conductors in a small city that would take him everywhere with them! He had been going all around the world to different towns cities and countries, even!  But one day he ended up getting on the wrong train. He ended up stopping at a city that he didn’t know and got off there thinking his parents would be there for him as well. But when they weren’t there He had panicked, and finally realized he had gotten on the wrong train! Considering there were too many trains around to locate the exact one, and he was so young he just kind of attempted to make the best out of things, and started taking care of himself. He would hop from train to train country to country in order to find the one that would take him home. Before he came across a little neighborhood- when he opened up the gate, he couldn’t help but feel so relieved.

It was home.

[daincrediblegg]

movie buff questions: any number with a 6 in it. <3

6. Favorite movie from the 90’s? Literally the first one I thought of was Hocus Pocus. So I'm going with that. It's goddamn incredible anyway.

16. Ever watched a movie just because you heard the effects were awesome? YES! Dawn of the Planet of The Apes. saw it in theaters like 10 times throughout the summer after graduating high school bc the theater was right down the block. shit is insane.

26. Best experience going to the movies Honestly the most recent was Everything Everywhere All At Once. My first viewing was on opening week and that was a PHENOMENAL audience to be a part of- especially recently. Also I will never forget the energy that was in the theater after The Grand Budapest Hotel. shit was awesome.

36. Movie quote you live by? lmao it's not from a movie but for years I had this quote up on my facebook page from Westworld "You can't play God without being aquainted with the Devil". Facts man. Thanks A-Hop.

46. Favorite cop film? Gonna go with Fargo on this one I think. Feels right.

56. Movie you completely nerd-out over every time it’s mentioned? Lord of the Rings. You will always get me with Lord of the Rings. No question. No doubt. I have so many lotr related facts and anecdotes and prop replicas.

60. Most visually stunning movie you’ve seen? God I can't choose. I really can't. so many movies are too beautiful I cannot pick just one. help me god.... OK 1917. that bitch has so much going for it.

61. A movie your parents introduced you to? lmao so many. kudos to them tho for taking me to Spirited Away at the ripe old age of baby.

62. Favorite genre? Gothic (clearly- and it's not the same as horror writ. large- there's a difference, even though many horror films overlap with gothic films as well and the whole horror genre literally owes everything to Gothic fiction but I digress)- also because there's lots of elements that go into gothic from other genres like romance and comedy that people tend to forget about- and I'll always take a good genre mix any day over just... one plain old thing? I like a Genre Ensemble if you will and Gothic covers that the best I think.

63. Least favorite genre? Hallmark Rom-coms. sitcoms in general. or reality tv shit or documentaries (lotta people say they're "unbiased" but the nature of perspective and subjectivity in film is bias. never as fully informative of facts as they purport to be and I can't stand the fuckin things. boring as sin).

64. Comedy movie that you didn’t find funny? First one I thought of was Bridesmaids. Deadass. I don't think a lot of mainstream comedies do humor very well anyway. Also fucking anything written by James Gunn that man literally only knows how to write one movie and it was guardians of the galaxy vol. 1 and literally everything he's done since has been copy-pasted from that script (and especially suicide squad. hate that move so much forever and always what a piece of shit).

65. Horror movie that didn’t scare you? Most don't??? not that bad anyway. Fucking M3gan was literally the most unscary shit I've ever seen recently tho. but then again I grew up on Child's Play like I'm immune to freaky doll shit.

66. Favorite remake of an old movie? ok but dicks out for the planet of the apes remakes. I'm so serious. Andy Serkis put his whole pussy into that monkey.

67. A movie that started a passion for you? um... this is kindof a hard question to answer because movies/shows made me want to persue writing/directing as a career. There have been a lot of them, and the more I see the more I want to do it, so the list is ongoing, but LOTR and Joker 2019 are the two biggest contributors that I can think of off the top of my head. LOTR bonus features are what I lived for and got me passionate about the actual filmmaking process and special effects and stuff, Joker is the one that solidified for me the career choice.

68. A movie that sparked an interesting conversation? in my household The Godfather will never not be the film that sparks interesting conversations- bc my dad worked with a guy that was up for the part of sollazzo, and he was on the books and getting payed and everything when Marlon Brando requested that a guy he knew play the part instead, so he got the boot. BUT!! since he was on the books there was a term in his contract that he get residuals anyway- and so he still does. he was at my parent's wedding and everything. crazy shit.

69. The main movie you remember from your childhood? my childhood was filled with them. Can't be specific about this one I'm afraid. Just trust me. Many.

MOVIE BUFF ASKS

[kiwikarpart]

My Color Wheel

HOLY FUCKING SHIT I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE

It's far from the prettiest color wheel, but I expected that it wouldn't be from the start, so I used it as an excuse to experiment with my art style a bit(that's why there are inconsistencies in shading, rendering, line weight, etcetera). I'm still glad that I did it despite the lackluster quality because I have a hard time letting myself be loose with my art. If I attempted to make this with my perfectionist mindset, it would've taken 3 times as long to finish without getting me any closer to what I want my art to look like. So if you're an artist that wants to try making a color wheel but are afraid you won't like how it turns out: don't be! Use the challenge to try out a certain brush, shading method, color palette, whatever! You might not love the final result, but you will get something out of the experience.

Before I end this post, I want to talk about the characters in this wheel and why I picked them[WARNING: LONG].

Flare: Tbh, I don't have a strong connection to Flare, she's not even my favorite Panel de Pon character. What I do like about her is her official artwork and character themes, the girl's got confidence, sass, and a banging critical theme. I also really wanted to draw a character from Panel de Pon because there's so much to love about the franchise despite lacking on official content (I'd be upset at IS for that, but I can't blame them too much when any original IP that wasn't Fire Emblem or Advance Wars didn't sell well).

Daisy: You don't need me to tell you who Daisy is. All I really need to say is that I love her for the same reason every other Daisy fan loves her. Saying Daisy rules because of her (relatively) bombastic personality is nothing new, but that really is why I like her so much. That's also why some people hate her, but that makes me appreciate Daisy more. I think it's great to have a character that people either love or hate in a franchise with simple characters.

Mew Pudding: Despite Tokyo Mew Mew aging like milk imo, I wanted to include a character from it because it was the 1st magical girl series I read, and I love magical girl shows SO much! I drew Pudding because she's my favorite girl in the group. As a kid, it was just because she's funny, but as an adult the juxtaposition between her role as a caretaker for a bunch of little siblings and the youngest member of the Mew Mews was pretty interesting. Dare I say, she would've been a better protagonist than Ichigo.

Rina: I couldn't hop off the magical girl train yet, especially since Mermaid Melody was my 2nd introduction to the wonderful world of magical girls. Most Mermaid Melody fans prefer Luchia or Hanon, but as long as I can remember my favorite was Rina. I never got a chance to re-read the series so I can't remember why, but knowing what I know about myself now, the reason might've been...formative.

Frosty Puff: Probably the most obscure character on this wheel, due to the triple whammy of being a minor character in one generation of a series most people don't care about. No disrespect to the Strawberry Shortcake fandom, I like looking at your posts here, but to the general public, Strawberry Shortcake stonks are pretty low right now. That didn't stop me from drawing Frosty Puff though, because of...well she...ok I admit it was just because of her design. As far as I know, Frosty Puff never got any meaningful characterization. But I was really hyper fixated on the 2003 Strawberry Shortcake era when I started this, and I wanted a character in cyan that wasn't showing up everywhere. Her in-show design doesn't have a drop of cyan, but her official doll's hair did so I merged the two.

Undine: If you don't know who this character is, that's fine :] but it also means you haven't read Sleepless Domain, and it's worth it just for her. Won't elaborate because there are a few twists and turns I don't want to spoil, but if you want to see more magical girl stories for a slightly older audience, check it out.

Amethyst: I drew Amethyst from Steven Universe because of the small arc she has involving Jasper. The 1st time I watched it, I really resonated with Amethyst for a reason I couldn't articulate. Something about her struggling with then coming to terms with the genetic differences between her and Jasper was surprisingly real, and I shared her frustration with Jasper being this seemingly unbeatable opponent...then I watched it again and realized some of the stuff Jasper said was REALLY ableist. That might have something to do with it.

Caitlin: And to top it all off, my favorite psychic user in the pokemon franchise. Won't go into it because this post got way too long, but I think her backstory makes her a certified badass.

[keefwho]

June 05 2024 - Wednesday

10:24pm

5/10

This morning I wiped down my mirror/sink and shelf that holds most of my bathroom stuff. I also cleaned each individual item so it was all spotless. For breakfast I made a breakfast sandwich with rice and it came with 2 slices of cheese instead of 1.

For work I warmed up with what I attempted to be quick color studies of bedrooms. Then I completely finished the next commission, nearly putting me a day ahead. AL was being weird in stream today, clearly emotional about something but luckily I didn't have to intervene.

After stream I hopped on desktop VRchat while I looked for the songs sampled by a lot of the vaporwave I listen to. There were a few good ones I simply couldn't track down but I got a few. As usual in chaotic public VRchat lobbies, there were a lot of teens trying to be edgy/funny. For lunch I made tuna spaghetti.

Real quick, theres a lot of small things that happen that I just don't talk about and I think it's because I think it's embarrassing that they are even notable enough to write down. It makes me feel like I have so little going on that *this* was a landmark of my day. I also think I really didn't care about a lot of these small things I did so I don't want to talk about them like there were important to me because they weren't. They mostly stick out because of how unsatisfied I was with what I was doing but its what I DID so thats all I have to talk about. Id rather stick to documenting things that were actually important to me.

In the afternoon I did today's request and hopped into VRchat again to continue a painting "from life" I was doing. The world I joined had some guys in it, all mid-teens I think. They were an edgy little bunch aside from the 1 guy that stayed after the others left. We conversed for awhile, and by that I mean I asked him a billion questions since he didn't seem to know how to keep a conversation going. They a couple more of his friends joined to talk. It was decent company while I painted.

I hopped off to focus on working on my pony avatar. I took a few minute break, at a cookie, and got to work. I did some weight painting and attemped baking some ambient occlusion on it to see if it would be an improvement. I think it'd be better if I manually painted on any shadows/details I want.

After work I took a short desk nap while watching FLoB stream. I was mentally tuckered out so that helped. Then I joined BR's server to watch them play Minecraft for a bit. I also got whitelisted for their server so I can hop in when I'm ready to start. Then I hit up DS to chill.

We watched a furry con vlog and poked fun at some of the interesting people we saw while discussing other topics. She was gluing pieces of her fursuit foot together but had a lot of trouble with it and had to put it off until tomorrow. Before she headed upstairs, we perused this scent oil website to see what would be best to make a spray for her fursuit. I was sold on one called "secret garden." Also put some thought into what I might smell like, I think something associated with 'brown' like coffee or a kind of nut.

In bed we did puzzles and chatted some more. We talked about what it means to be evil and what it might take to be someone that works with dead bodies. After she went to sleep I browsed around everywhere before my nightly routine, nothing in particular.

I had the same bad thoughts and feelings as usual today but I am just staying aware of them and thats it. Its helping in the sense that I still maintain at least some degree of mental clarity separate from whatever is going on in my head. This is defusion at work.

[casspurrjoybell-32]

*Warning Adult Content*

RECESSIVE WOLF - Chapter 1

Toronto is a lot different than Peace River.

For one thing, most of the werewolves were lone, or they formed pseudo packs like the Calgary wolves that moved down to rural Alberta.

The rogues picked up ranks and regularly fought each other for them.

They weren't very stable and people in command changed all the time because wandering wolfs did just that, they wandered and traveled without staying put. 

It made sense.

Toronto was a city and it was hard to keep yourselves away from humans when they were everywhere.

It wasn't uncommon for wolves to opt-out to live with humans and repress themselves.

So, it wasn't a surprise that there were many hybrids and recessives. 

And I think Adyen is recessive.     

"Pheromones? My wolf? What the fuck are you talking about?" the darker boy stepped as he pulled his hand away from me.

His other hand was grasping no to the box that held his drawing board and tools.

Some people paused to give us a brief look before they continued on their way.

No one seemed too interested in two random dudes arguing in the middle of the main quad.

It happened all the time. 

Ah, the University of Toronto.   

I've only been here for six months for a degree in architecture but I've bumped up to all sorts of werewolves.

Grey wolves like myself, eastern wolves and many foreign wolves who seemed to be immigrants or international students.   

"Now you're mute when you were screaming shit at me just seconds ago," the boy continued and I just stared, not knowing what to say or where to start.

Yes, I had chased him on a whim when I couldn't take the almost magnetic feeling of being drawn to him anymore.

I had to meet him and get the process over with before my wolf carved me from the inside out.     

The sound of students walking past us filled what would have been drawn out silence.

I let out short breaths, watching their form in the snow as I adjusted my weight from foot to foot, crunching the snow under my boots as I tried to think of where to start.

How did you start explaining werewolves to a human?     

I swallowed the spit that had built up in my mouth before tucking my hands in my pockets.

I stared at Adyen who was still frowning at me.

My chest was squeezing in happiness even though he was mad at me.

I finally got to see him up close and my wolf paced in excitement as I took the time to look at him.

He was Afro-Canadian and just shy of my 5'11.

He was in think trousers and an even thicker jacket, so I couldn't tell how big he was right now.     

"You chase me saying shit and now you're just going to stare at me like a creep?" he said, making me blink before taking a step back.

My eyes went wide and my face warmed up when I realized what I was doing.

My dumb brain had to remember that Adyen was probably not a wolf and everything that I was doing that was driven by instinct just looked creepy.   

 "Sorry," I sighed, running a hand through my hair before licking my lips.

The winter air was dry,and I was starting to feel the gloveless hands I had buried in the pocket of my jacket go numb.

"I just need some time to collect my words."

I made up the excuse on the spot but he seemed to buy it because his expression softened.   

'He's so cute.'

Almost puppy like with his short curly hair and big doe eyes.

I had first seen him in my lecture last Tuesday.

It had been strange but in the class of over a hundred, my eyes kept wandering to one spot at the far right.

Since then, I haven't been able to exist in the same place as him without feeling a pull towards him and after a while, I learned his name from people calling out to him.

I wonder if he had just transferred to the main campus because it was weird that I was just noticing him now.

"How do you know who your mate is?"   

"You just know."     

I nibbled my bottom lip, remembering my mother's words before she hugged me and sent me off on the bus to Edmonton so that I could take a plane to Calgary before hopping into one that headed for Toronto.   

"I think we should head somewhere private to talk," I muttered, staring at the boy who was still frowning at me.

"It's important," I insisted.     

When I had started feeling a pull towards him I wondered why he never looked like he noticed it too.

Both wolves were supposed to.

I had started to think that maybe he was pretending to ignore me and I had followed him out of the library today, calling out to him and mentioning our bond and wolves and I had only realized there was nothing to sense from him when I got closer and managed to grab his hand. 

No wolf. 

No pheromones. 

No nothing.

He had to be recessive.

There was no other explanation. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you. You've been staring at me since last week. Fucking weirdo," he cursed, adjusting the strap of his bag before taking a few steps back.

No matter what he was saying he didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave.

He just kept looking at me with his deep brown eyes and I did the same matching his gaze.

I took the time to take in more of his features.

He had full lips with a cute cupid's bow.     

I looked away, deciding to put my gaze somewhere else before I did something I would regret.

'God, I want to touch him.'

My chest felt warm and I needed to take deep breaths to calm down as an itching sensation built up in my body.     

"Are you okay?" the voice was soft but it was Adyen's and the concern he felt for me was making my face warm up.

"I'm alright."

I looked up to find Adyen's frown gone.

He looked concerned and my out of breath tone probably didn't convince him I was fine.

If he was a wolf, he would understand it was just a pheromone overload I was experiencing and nothing serious but he clearly wasn't and kept pressing to see if I was okay.     

"Let's go sit somewhere private," he offered after a while, taking a hold of my hand before pulling me in the opposite direction.     

'His hands are soft and he has long fingers, just like Ahote's.'

I felt a prick of guilt at my thoughts.

No matter what I felt, my mind kept trying to compare him to Ahote.

Ahote was my first love, I couldn't help it. 

When Ahote had bonded to Alek and had a child with him, I knew I didn't have a chance anymore.

It was painful to watch him and Alek, so I studied hard because I wanted to leave Peace River.

When I turned eighteen, I had felt that slight tug every wolf felt so that they knew their mate was out there.

It had made me panic a little, even feel a bit sick at the prospect that I might ever like someone other than Ahote.   

I used to wish I'd never meet them and that if I did, I felt we wouldn't along but after seeing Adyen all those feelings had melted away almost immediately.

I wanted to be with him.

I wanted to know who he was and it seemed like a prank the Goddess was playing on me by making him recessive.

This was what I had wanted, right?

A partner I could ignore.

Adyen didn't seem to know he had werewolf genes at all.

I think whatever parent was the werewolf hid it from him.     

"Do you feel better now?" Adyen asked after pulling me into a small ally.

I frowned, pursing my lips before shaking my head. 

I heard him sigh. He seemed frustrated.

"Come on, don't do this. Why are you acting weird?" he asked.

My head kept pounding as my wolf felt overwhelmed by Adyen's presence.

Especially now that he was holding on to my hand and just inches away.

My body was pumping out pheromones to try and communicate my feelings to him but Adyen couldn't sense those either.

He truly seemed to be human except for his genes. 

This was going to be hard.     

"Why did you have to be recessive?" I said out loud, looking up.

Adyen was frowning at me now.

He didn't understand those words and it frustrated it.     

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, darting his eyes from me to the open area outside the alley.

He looked like he was trying to figure out an exit route for the worst-case scenario with me.

It pricked that he was trying to get away but I didn't blame him.

I had gone about all this in the worst possible way.   

"Of course you don't," I chuckled, shaking my head.   

"Why do you keep saying weird stuff?" he asked.     

"It's going to take a while to explain. I don't even think I can explain all of it here. You won't believe me," I said, taking my hand away from him before giving him space.

I didn't want to do anything weird.

He looked confused and tried to follow but I shook my head, pulling up the hood of my jacket as I rested my back on the brick wall.     

"Please don't touch me now," I said.

The cold had me shiver a bit, so I shut my eyes for a bit.

Canadian winters were a pain in the ass.

"I think we should talk about this later. Could you give me your number?" I asked him.

Adyen frowned but after some hesitation, he took out his cell-phone from his jacket and handed it to me.     

"Give me your number instead. I'll message you if I want to," he said, and I nodded, taking the phone from him before typing in my number and handing it back.

I had typed up my name as well so that he knew it.

I watched Adyen stare at his phone screen for a while before tucking it away in his jacket and walking out of the alley.

He paused at a point to look back at me and I smiled to myself, feeling my chest warm-up at the fact that he seemed to care about how I was doing.     

"I'm fine," I yelled and after a while, Adyen turned and continued walking away.     

'Why do you have to be recessive?' I whined in my head, sighing as I leaned off the wall, my pheromones calming down significantly since Adyen had left.

I had to sort them out in case of the next time when we met... if we met.

There was no guarantee Adyen would reach out to me but he seemed curious enough, so I stayed hopeful.

[babylonianpirate]

ninetailsofmisery​:

Well, Nine wasn’t expecting a deal like that, though did he really want to tell Atreya how he got here? The less people that knew about the Prism Shard the better and the fox was dealing with what appeared to be a group of pirates so they could also be a chance they’d try to take it. Of course he didn’t have many options at the moment so it all came down if he was willing to take a risk.

“Alright, I got here by a interdimensional portal I managed to make which lead me to some sort of Shatter Space with a bunch of broken crystals everywhere. While traversing it I had a close call with almost running into a large chuck of it, though one of my thrusters got hit. Ending up spinning out of control before I managed to regain control. When I did I was in front of an exit portal which I had to make a quick decision to go through hoping there was some solid ground to land on. After that I landed and you can pretty much guess the rest.” Nine managed to tiptoe around what he was using as a power source to allow him to travel to different dimensions and hoped they didn’t catch on to that.

Atreya listened in silence. Only giving the occasional nod here and there. “That explains the scrap then. Alright.” Once Nine had finished Atreya walked out of the room for a moment or two then returned with a small bag filled with the same raw metal she used for Typhon’s engine room. “This is metal my people once used. It’s sturdy and easy to work with once you melt it down. Should keep your portal machine together a lot better than what scrap would.”

“I normally would ask for the power source but I also got no interest in dimension hopping. What you gave already is more than enough. If that’s all you need I think I can land Typhon and let you off, Nine. Unless you’d rather tag along. Choice is yours.”

[a-little-ray-of-fantasy]

I saw your post about Stolas possibly being in the spectrum and I just wanted to ask for more details about your observation and reason. Please do not take this the wrong way as I'm trying to understand how to tell if someone is or isn't.

I'm politely disagreeing that him, jumping out of excitement is something to attribute to autism or neurodivergence. Can it not be a mannerism or habit of his? Or a common indication of him being happy over something thrilling? The same reason applies to his likeness to plants, specific book choices, and raptor hands.

Does it mean that everyone who shares the same mannerisms as Stolas and preference of book and knowledge is also neurodivergent?

I mean no offense, I genuinely would just like to know how you came upon that observation. Thank you :) Hope to be enlightened with a different perspective.

Hey! Thank you for the message! It's no problem at all! ^^

Ok, so, before I start explaining my reasonings, I want to be clear and say that Stolas being autistic is a headcanon: there's no official source that says he is, and it's mostly a thought supported by some canon elements I've seen in the show, and it makes me happy, considering I'm neurodivergent and have been noted I have some autistic traits.

Having said that, I want to explain what led me to this headcanon.

Autistic people often fidget, or stim, when they feel certain emotions, like being happy or agitated. It's a way to help the person release tension or energy by making repeated movements.

I've seen Stolas has made several movements when idle or happy: when he's seated he often moves his leg.

When on his phone his body, especially his hands, is always moving. When he talks with Blitzo on the phone, he's especially happy, and thus he plays with the cord, scratches around or moves around.

And, as seen in the last two episodes so far, when he's especially excited, he hops.

These are all actions that are rather frequent, coming from him. And stimming is usually an indicator that someone is on the spectrum.

As are raptor hands: from what I've read is a way of keeping your hands close to you chest, as if you were a raptor. It's a trait that's especially noticeable in people who are confirmed as neurodivergent, and Stolas has done this pose fairly often.

Infodumping is basically sharing everything you know about something you're especially passionate about.

Putting his finger up as he explaining something...

...and generally keeping his arms inward when he walks or feels happy...

...are recurring movements I've noticed in him.

Also: the first he does when Blitzo comes to his home, when they're children, is showing all his books and infodumping everything he knows about plants; he's especially sad when Blitzo states that books and plants are boring.

People in the spectrum have special interests, or hyperfixations, in which they're extremely knowledgable about, and it's especially good sharing that passion with others. More often than not tho' that interest is so specific, or the info is just so complex and detailed, that others struggle in following along, or are bored by it all.

Stolas loves herbology and is an expert in astronomy: there's plants everywhere and his palace has a star aesthetic. Even on Instagram he often shares what he knows about space or flowers. It's also suggested he read a lot, when he was a child. The fact that he knew so much about herbology and animals at such a young age, and got sad that he wasn't able to share what he knew, is a struggle that many autistic people often face.

And finally, his struggle with relationships.

Stolas has no friends, and has little to no experience with bonding with people. Especially because his biggest problem is reading the room or realize that what he feels is usually not what the other feels, especially when he gets really caught up in something that brings him joy.

Stolas is compassionate, but his struggle to aknowledge Blitzo's distress over their relationship, or Octavia's fear of losing him, have caused a good deal of trouble for everyone involved. When Stolas realizes this distress, he's very quick to apologize and fix himself, but it's not an automatic response for him, it usually requires someone else to point things out to him.

Some people in the spectrum struggle with this, being able to read the other's emotions. It's not a case of lack of empathy or such: it's just that emotions are hard to read, especially if they're from someone else. And considering Stolas doesn't seem like he's had much experience with bonding even after meeting Blitzo for the first time, this wouldn't surprise me.

Emotions on his own are an interesting point about him: I sense the reason why he gets excited so easily is also a result of his status that imposed him to be as cool headed as possible, and often numbed himself down with drinks. Now that he's starting to find himself again, he gets giddy for any new opportunity as a way to make up for all the lost time. As someone who is neurodivergent and has been emotionally guarded for so long when she was young, I often do the same as him: reacting with glee and amazement even at the smallest new stuff I see, even if at my age such a behaviour could be considered childish.

And, not to mention his love for soap operas: he even ends up looking like the main character of his favorite Hellanovela by putting some white on his hair. It seems he enjoys replaying what he sees on his favorite shows and stories: as far as I'm aware, roleplaying or relating to fictional situations and characters is something that feels very good when you're in the spectrum.

And, I dunno, I think I said everything I had to say. I've stated everything I've managed to find, going off with what I know about the matter and how I personally experience as a neurodivergent person.

Again, not everyone in the spectrum acts the same way, no one acts more autistic than another. It simply means that many have different experiences with autism. And while there's no confirmation on whether or not Stolas is autistic, there's IS enough evidence that he's neurodivergent, considering his many quirks.

I'm sorry this got so long, I guess I'm really passionate about how Stolas is written and, as neurodivergent myself, maybe I do see something about myself in him. Maybe that's why I headcanon him as neurodivergent. But it still makes me happy that some fans headcanon him as autistic as well, so maybe everything I've said does hold some water. It feels validating, you know?

...sorry, I'm rambling, I'm starting to feel rather sleepy. ^^

I hope all of this answered your questions. Thank you once again for inquiring me about my post: it allowed me to further explore one of my favorite characters ever.

Wish you many good things. ^^

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Does...does anyone in Gen Z remember when the internet didn't completely suck? When there were communities?

You didn't used to have a million apps. You had your internet browser and it took you everywhere you wanted to go.

There were browser extensions like StumbleUpon that would take you to anything people had saved based on interests you gave it: news articles, memoirs, blog posts about the most random things, Cracked articles when Cracked was a thriving comedy site, and College Humor the same way, before Facebook killed them and now you kind of just hope someone on social media is funny sometimes and maybe there's The Onion. TVTropes pages. Fanfiction. Random sites designed to play exactly one game. Entire websites designed to have one button that did one thing. Yahoo! Answers questions that were funny or informative. Wikipedia pages. Other wiki pages. Fan wikis that didn't live on Fandom.

And you could just. Surf The Web as it were and wander aimlessly through it. Google wasn't totally ads, and it wasn't the only functioning search site, either. Yahoo! had games, and there were plenty of other sites just. Full of flash games. That you could browse through. For free!

People made websites for their fanfiction and their original fiction. Every interest had a forum and probably had a community and you could go sign up and chat with people about it. And you could find those posts again, until the forum died, which it might not even do! People had blogs that weren't attached to sites like Tumblr or LiveJournal or Dreamwidth.

There were thriving communities just for book and fic recs.

You could go places and do things and it wasn't all siloed. You didn't always have to have an account to do things or read things. You might have to sit through some ads, but not as many as now, and the Algorithm didn't steer you away. Facebook was usable. There were sites like Gaia Online that had forums and flash games and avatar design and dress up and videos and there were like 20 different sites like Flight Rising that operated for different silos and interests with different worlds to explore.

When chat rooms weren't privated up in discord and you could sign on anonymously in IRC chats. When NaNoWriMo had its own official IRC chat room! Just on the website! Where you could talk to anyone! And nothing would be saved once you left!

When not everything was paywalled and Exclusive Content and even if it was, you were on 50 different sites a day anyway hanging out with different people doing different things and exploring.

When social media wasn't the main way people got news and not the only place to hang out and talk and you could learn from other people a thousand other ways, and not everything linked to a locked Patreon.

The internet has always had problems. But it didn't used to be so siloed and locked and competitive and difficult to hop from one place to another and people didn't spend all day on three different sites.

And it used to be so much more interesting.

I think the good used to outweigh the bad of the internet. I'm not sure it does. It turned from a place to explore and talk to a corporate dopamine slot machine designed to extract money.

[marahuyos]

anon asked: Im sorry, I don't know if you're open, if you aren't then feel free to ignore this :")

But if you are, this might be a random idea but can i get Diluc, Xiao and Childe's reaction when they learn that their GN! S/O has a natural skill to train slimes? I just think the vision of an adventurer reader constantly being followed by a small group of slime or them using them as pillows when they camp out is just too cute TwT

*:･ﾟ✧ this request is so cute hnnn i remember playing slime rancher a whole lot so this request makes me so happy <3

diluc x gn!reader, xiao x gn!reader, childe x gn!reader

tw: none

✧ Diluc Ragnvindr

• It was at your camp when Diluc found out about your natural affinity to garner slimes.

• Both of you just finished exterminating Abyss Mages in Windrise so you two ventured back to the Dawn Winery. The bad part is that it was nighttime, so you and Diluc had to make camp. It wasn't rare for you two to camp out, but it was the first few times that you and Diluc camped out together.

• You two act like an old-married couple but in the wilderness. Diluc fixes up the tent and prepares the ingredients while you start cooking. As much as you wanted Diluc to cook his signature steak, you settled for a hearty stew. Sometimes, if Diluc is feeling lighthearted, he wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

• These were the moments that you treasured. You know Diluc had a tough time showing emotion and you were proud of him for taking the step forward. The fact that you have his arms around you is also a bonus, though.

• You two enjoyed the moment together, feeling his warmth as you spooned his food into his bowl, you heard the rustling of grass. Diluc tensed, summoning his claymore as he placed himself in front of you. You appreciated the sight of his crimson hair and broad back if not for the fact that the monsters that showed up were mere slimes.

• You giggled when you heard Diluc's sharp sigh through his nose. You set down the bowls and touched Diluc's shoulder. "Let me handle this."

• He watches you in mild interest, watching you go near the slimes. He nearly stepped in when the three slimes are hopping closer but he froze when he sees you pet the slimes like they were dogs. The three little Dendro slimes cuddled up to you like puppies at you cooed at them.

• Diluc watched, flabbergasted at the sight. You looked so... in your element that he wondered if you did this normally. It was only a few conversations about slime training that you did do this normally and that you actually owned a ranch with a lot of slimes that you corralled by yourself.

• He's honestly impressed by how efficient your ranch is. Each slime is corralled depending on their element and the secretions that they emit are all sold to the people who need it, more specifically Albedo who never seems to not run out on slime excretions. Your entire ranch is perfect that he can't help but be proud of how much you accomplished.

• If you allow it, he also commissions you to get slime secretions specific for his drinks. He would be remiss not to use these slimes to the fullest advantage. Of course, he pays you always in full whenever he does and you giggle when Diluc gives you a knowing look when people compliment his newest concoction.

• If you roped in Diluc in ranching, he'd be a walking stick. He'd be so frozen on the spot that you had to bite your lip to prevent saliva from going everywhere when you laugh. It was funny to see the man use a vacuum only for the Geo slimes to hit his face. You're always there to bandage his scratched face and the excuse towards people and Kaeya is that he got stuck fighting a finicky Abyss Mage.

• But Kaeya ain't gonna let the image of a Geo slime slamming itself onto his brother's face go anytime soon.

✧ Xiao

• He found out when he was chasing off demon-possessed monsters.

• It was any normal night where Xiao has to purge the evil in the land of Liyue. Some Hilichurls, some Mitachurls, even the run-of-the-mill treasure hoarders causing too much trouble, Xiao continued on. During this night, he was busy chasing the last remaining Hilichurl, using his Anemo powers to keep up with it. He was at a much closer distance now, his arm tensing as he readied to plunge the monster--

• Plop plop! The sound of cryo slimes bouncing up towards the Hilichurl. In a comedic twist of fate, the slimes started clumping up to the monster, leaving it a shivery cold mess at it stopped itself from how cold it was. Xiao gently lowered himself on the ground, looking at the sight with a blank stare.

• Hearing the sound of footsteps, he brandished his spear, eyes flitting over to the perpetrator before it turned out to be you. You were holding a geo slime in your arms as more slimes followed you like puppies. Your eyes widened at the appearance of Xiao with his brandished spear and a Hilichurl getting cuddled to hypothermia by your cryo slimes.

• "Hi, honey?"

• It took you an hour, the first few minutes are you trying to pry Xiao from killing the slimes when they got too close to you, to show Xiao that you have a natural affinity to train slimes. You showed him your ranch and all of the slimes that you've trained so far. Xiao was like a confused cat, eyes widening at each new addition to your ranch. He has to confess on how obscure this talent was, even for mortal standards.

• Still, it puts his mind at ease when he knows that you're safe with a bunch of slimes at your side. Even with their soft bodies and brainless... brains, Xiao knows that they'll at least be a distraction for you to run away.

• But still, to see you so content with a dendro slime as a pillow, watching your relaxed smile... He wishes he had more to his thighs to allow you to sleep on him instead. He grits his teeth every time he has to look at your sleeping form, with a slime underneath your head looking just as content as you are.

✧ Childe

• Out of everyone here, I think Childe would be the least surprised considering at some point, his younger siblings tried to ranch slimes only to end up frozen and sitting next to the fireplace. After a stern lecture from both his parents and older siblings, he can't help but think that whoever would do the same thing would be way too idiotic--

• Oh wait, you do it? Childe thinks it's the cutest thing in the world! Disregard the admonished stares of his younger siblings, saying that he was a simp hypocrite. He loves it and you!

• He enjoys watching you tend to the slimes like they were your own kids. He's like a little kid, watching his older sibling do something cool. If you were able to squint, you could see a little bit of a glimmer shining in Childe's eyes as you teach him how to take care of the slimes.

• Regardless, he's an excellent student. He picks up on how to take care of slimes fast to the point that he could've been your permanent helper. He handles all the heavy lifting, such as moving heavy toys for the slimes to play with, the feed that slimes needed, lifting you up in the air and twirling you around like you two are newlyweds (honestly, the image of you two settling down in a slime farm seems like the best thing Childe could think of).

• If possible, he asks if you can expand your ranch towards Snezhnaya where his siblings can watch you work. He can practically see his younger siblings' faces as you taught them how to care of slimes amidst the freezing weather. Even when Childe has to walk off the jabs that they've done to his side for falling in love with a slime rancher, he's still thinking on what ring to get.

• Remember that he's a family man and he wants to settle down at some point. Sure, he has an insatiable bloodlust but when you came along, the hunger for violence dwindled down. Each time he sees you regard slimes like they were your own children, each time you slap slime secretion on his face to instigate a play fight, each time you kiss him when he comes back from his mission; all of those things made him remember that he wasn't Tartaglia or Childe. He was Ajax, with a light in his eyes and a bunch of slime children to wrangle.

• Of course, he's still a child at heart, so if he sees you getting comfy with a slime pillow, bet he's gonna yank that slime from under you and replace it with his thighs. His thighs are packin', at least better than Xiao's, and you can feel them tense if you run your fingers over them.

• This is why you lose precious sleep and have Childe do all your chores for you. And no he gets no payment in kisses.