#they keep running over us with this SHIT every single day and we're still here and for fucking what

[threepandas]

Bad End: Happy Hunting! (1)

I should have known better. They told us. TRAINED US. Over and over, drilled into our heads! Don't assume! Don't PROJECT Human body language onto alien species! Think that just because they look similar, are ACTING similar, their brains are in any way WORKING similar!

Not every species pack bonds! Some of them are PREDATORS. Be CAREFUL!

I was an idiot. A fucking IDIOT!

I gasped for air. Ran. Ran and ran and RAN. Desperately trying to put distance between me and the hunters behind me. I could hear screams. Crashing. The sound of weapon fire. The air here wasn't RIGHT. Too high in oxygen? Too low? Some other trace element, slowly poisoning my lungs?

I didn't know. Scared! Oh god, I'm so scared!

I thought he was my friend!

Thought THEY were my friends! Stupid. So God damned stupid! You really will pack bond with ANYTHING, won't you?! They bare their teeth and you fucking thought it was a SMILE! No wonder I barely graduated. They never should have-!

A root catches my foot.

Crashing to the mulch of the forest floor. Scramble to get up. My ankle on fire. Hurts. Oh god it hurts! Ignore it. Go! Keep going! Gotta get OUT! Find a ship. Any ship! Radio for help!

All the trees look the same. Am I even going in a straight line? Deeper or across? Away from civilization? I don't know how to survive here! Can I even drink the water? No. Run! Just RUN! Nothing else!

I can't hear them.

Him.

I thought he was my friend.

My grades were shit. Worst of the Best, but ultimately good enough. Got to see the stars. The galaxy. Meet real life aliens. Was a glorified gofer for the Earthling Diplomat's Entourage. Galactic Council offered staff. Wasn't really an offer. We took um. Some of them were the "better" guards then the super military badasses we had brought.

Military badasses were pretty offended.

But I was a gofer. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Just here for the aliens, right? Yay getting to meet some, right? I couldn't even PRONOUNCE their species name. I was mortified. Tried my damnedest. They thought it was hilarious. My pronunciation was god awful. Was calling them the cutesy babified version of "office chair".

Met Wolfe. He seemed FRIENDLY. Kind. Considerate. He told jokes. Asked about my day. I started sharing. Hobbies and interests. Stories about home. Explained weird human behaviors. We were close. I... I thought we were close! Was it a lie? Was everything A LIE!?

When my rotation in space was coming to an end, I was SAD! Fucking HEARTBROKEN! That I might never see my friends again. Since communication between our two planets wasn't even stabilized yet. Might never be. I wanted to savor our time together. Treasure it!

But then things started to go wrong.

Random malfunctions, that delayed and delayed us. Lost communications that nearly caused interplanetary incidents. Took days and weeks to fix at a time. People went MISSING. We looked. Every time we LOOKED!

They're dead, aren't they? Oh god. Dozens of crew members DEAD.

Then the engine "broke". Conveniently just close enough for us to make an emergency landing on this planet! And oh, would you look at THAT! A sacred cultural festival!? They won't help us unless we join in.

It's a MARRIAGE HUNT.

Heavy emphasis on the HUNT part!

They weren't surprised. Not a single one. Every last one just turned too different people and... and...! Wolfe planned this. THEY planned this! We're gonna die. I trusted him and now I'm gonna DIE! Can't breathe! Branches whipping at my arms and hair and face, as I RUN. Down slopes. Across shallow rivers. Even as my limbs BURN. I... I HAVE TOO-!

A powerful wall of muscle slams into me.

I scream. Thrash, even as I fall. My arms are easily tucked and pinned against my side, as the body covering mine rolls with me down a slight incline. The smell of wet plant matter and upturned soil thick in the strange air. Dizzy. I feel sick. Oh god please no!

Heat and pressure pin me down. Arms like thick steel bands. Still, I struggle, like a cornered animal. I have too. They always tell you to FIGHT. Only chance and survival. The deep rumble of crooned reassurances in an alien dialect fill my ear. I can feel how DEEPLY he breathes me in, before each sentence. Like hes been holding back and finally no longer has too, is giddy with it. How his hands already spread possessively, eager to explore.

And he's strong. Oh god, he's so strong! Please please please! Let go. LET GO!

"Shhhhhh shh shh, is 'okay' now. I have you. You ran so hard! Did so well! My precious little human~ so brave. So strong. You did it! Now, no one can EVER seperate us! You don't have to worry anymore. No more tears~" Hunter, Warrior, oh god it was never a GRIN-! His teeth are so sharp. Pressed so close to my skin!

"I'll take care of EVERYTHING~"

I'm scared.

[admirationandromantics]

Guilt and Grudges, 9: Karma

You like me edging you? Not giving you a new chapter in almost two days? I like it, and we're almost at the end as well! You can't blame me for wanting to keep the suspense and uncertainty up! Anyways, get ready, now shit is going down.

“Oh my god, guys” Emily exclaims, walking forward to check on us. 

“Thank God” Ashley adds, running and hugging me. I melt into it, body tense and anxious. I still think about the creature, the wendigo. It was horrifying. 

“What took you so long?” Sam asks, looking over at Chris. Just now, I notice that he doesn’t seem quite like himself. He’s shaken up, of course, but there’s something more than that. 

“It’s not so good up there right now” he answers, looking down. The man, the stranger. Where the hell is he? 

“Understatement of the night”

“Wait, the man…” I interrupt, unsure how to form the question. I only saw Chris out there, no one else. 

“Yeah, where’s the flamethrower guy?” Sam asks, one hand on my shoulder as we let Chris settle down. He’s still breathing heavily. The gun in my hand is empty, but I keep holding on to it out of stress. Where is that man? 

“Ah, yeah, he…” Chris stutters, seeming almost like he wants to cry. 

“He didn’t make it?” Ashley asks, and we all stare at him in shock. 

“Oh no!” Emily blurts out, hands to her head as she paces the room. 

“What happened?” 

“The thing, it… it tore him apart. Right in front of me”

“Oh god”

“Chris…”

I take a couple of steps towards him, pulling the gun down by the table first. He shies away from my touch a little, but I press on, just to be sure. As he let me rub his shoulder, silent tears start falling down his cheeks. Emily is spiraling, Ashley is shaking, and Sam is standing there in utter shock. Mike is the only one present at the moment, and he rips us all out of it with his next words. 

“Alright, are these all the doors?”

“Yeah”

“Are you sure?”

“What are you looking for?” Sam asks, and we all watch him running through the room. 

“Another way out” he paces, walking up to the security cameras Josh had lined up, and searching every single one of them. 

“Mike… I really don’t think that’s a good idea, we should stay put, right here, until dawn.”

“At least we’re safe down here” Ashley adds, supporting Sam’s argument. 

“Oh yeah? All wrapped up like a little present with a bow on top for that thing to tear us apart like it’s christmas morning?” I stand up, trying to support Sam in this. 

“People will come for us in the morning. Right, Em?” I ask her, just to get her approval as well. The worst idea ever seems to be going outside now. She looks at me, a bit dumbfounded, but gives a small nod. 

“Yeah, I mean… right?” 

“You don’t sound so sure” Mike states, his voice higher than before. 

“They said they would…” She tries, but her tone is loaded with uncertainty. 

“Well, you can wait, I’m leaving” 

“Mike, there’s no key for the cable car”

Mike turns, an idea popping into his head. He lifts his arm, pointing his finger at us. 

“Josh, he’s gotta have it”

At the mention of his name, I look down at Chris again. He’s completely out of it, shaking and crying. I don’t think he’ll be back anytime soon. My hand is still on his shoulder, slowly moving back to his neck, rubbing the skin softly. He doesn’t seem physically hurt after the encounter, except for his ankle. 

“Josh?” Sam exclaims, almost unbelievably. I don’t think she’s ready to hear his name either, we all know she never meant to see him turn into this. Or be lost like he did. I don’t think she’s processed it yet, compared to Chris, who’s in the middle of a mental breakdown because of the events taking place. 

“One of his dirty little tricks” 

I want to give Mike a small scowl, but I brace myself, instead focusing on where he’s getting, and how the others are doing. We shouldn’t go anywhere. 

“Great, great”

“If that fucking thing go ahold of Josh, then we’re shit out of luck” Mike finally finishes, and I breathe out in relief, knowing that we only have one goal left. To stay. My relief is interrupted by Emily, and I immediately get a hard lump in my throat. 

“I don’t know, Mike. It’s possible…”

“What’s possible?” Sam asks, her tone harsh. She probably also thought this was the end of the discussion. 

“It may have taken him down to the mine”

“What?”

“I saw some horrible stuff down there. I think it’s where that thing lives, and… huh” She paces through the room, stopping at the workbench table. 

“Em?” I ask, unsure if she’s going to continue. We all watch as she studies stuff on the table, as if forgetting we’re here. Mike breaks the silence. 

“Fuck it. I’m going to get that key. Right from that thing’s goddamn bedroom. And then I’m gonna get us all the hell out of here” 

“You’re not fucking serious, Mike” I argue back, hand leaving Chris when I stand up straighter. 

“Well, we don’t exactly have much of a choice”

“Yes, we do! They said they’d be here at dawn, let’s wait it out. Going in there will only get you killed” 

“Again, we can’t just stay here. Sooner or later that monster will come for us, and I’m not waiting around for that to happen”

“Em, what is all this?” Sam suddenly says, causing Mike and me to shut up, turning our attention to the others. The girls are standing around the workbench, looking at a bunch of stuff. 

“It’s that old guy’s bag” We walk over to them, taking a look. Chris is still standing there, shaking in the corner. 

“Is that a map?” Mike points, pushing Sam a little away, so he can get closer. 

“That guy was prepared for anything” Sam whispers, letting him get past her. Mike gives a small snort at her statement. 

“Not quite” 

“What is this place?” Emily asks, and Ashley leans over her shoulder to take a look. 

“Oh my god” I whisper, trying to connect the dots. The sanatorium, the secret hotel, aka the lodge, and the mines are all interconnected. There are secret tunnels going from each of them. 

“Wait, wait, wait, what is that?” Sam asks, pointing at the Sanatorium. 

“I was down there. It was horrible” Mike suddenly whispers, and we turn to look at him. 

“You were?” 

“There had been a cave-in. In the fifties, I guess, and the miners got trapped down there” “What the fuck” 

“Some of them survived, but like, fifteen of them didn’t make it. There was this reporter, and I think he figured out there had been some big cover-up going on. I found these plans, they knew the mine was a death trap, but they let the miners keep working anyway. And, I’m not sure what it means, but I found this chair with dried blood all over the place, like… someone had been tortured.”

“What has been going on on this mountain? Do you think all these events are connected to the monsters? Is that the reason not all of them survived?” I ask, pondering. Sam only looks at me, unsure how to answer. None of us know, really. 

“Guys, I’d like to maybe focus on how we’re going to get the fuck out of here, please” Emily interrupts, and we nod. 

“I’m just saying, it’s weird how much crazy shit’s gone on up here”

“What’s weird is that there’s a tunnel leading from the lodge to the Sanatorium, see?” Emily points out, which I’d already seen. 

“That’s how I got back here”

Em nods, before moving her finger to the mines, down on the place labeled “Nest”. 

“I saw this when I was down there. That’s where it lives.” I get this bad feeling in my stomach again, as if something bad is about to happen. A weak smell of flesh and iron fills my nostrils, and I almost gag. What if Mike decides to go down there? What if we lose him as well? 

“Em… Em what is that?” Ashley whispers, fear evident in her tone. I turn to look at Emily, and immediately notice where the smell has come from. Her shoulder is basically ripped up, a big scratch-like wound, red and bloody. It probably smells like that because it’s starting to get infected. 

“Huh?”

“What is that?” Ashley repeats, taking a step back. 

“Ash…”

Everyone takes a step back from her, her hand going to her shoulder, almost as if to hide it. She looks scared, we all are. 

“Em. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, no!” Ashley starts spiraling. 

“It’s nothing, it just bit me!” 

“Bit you? What bit you?” 

She falls silent, knowing that when she confirms our suspicions, we’ll all take some space. 

“The… ah, the wendigo” 

“The what?!” Mike blurts out, obviously starting to get agitated and stressed. Chris is still halfway sitting in the corner, but now, shaking even more. He’s turned his body around a bit, not wanting to see anything, as expecting something to attack him, or someone. 

“It’s nothing, really, it’s not a big deal” 

I walk up to her, studying the wound. It looks deep, and irritated. There’s white and green puss around it, likely from everything that has been around her since it happened. 

“It seems like you’re getting an infection. All this puss. It’s not normal to develop something like this so fast.” I comment, only realising how that sounds to the other’s when I’m finished. 

“Do you feel okay?” Sam asks, taking a step towards her. 

“Shit” Mike blurts out. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, really. It’s not that bad” She continues to defend herself. 

“Guys, it looks like a normal, a little infested wound” I say, staying on her side of this. 

“You just said that it was abnormal to show an infection so early!” Ashley yells at me, obviously not in her right mind. She’s a goner, she’s done. I can see how scared she is, terrified that we’ll all die. 

“Well, we’ve been in quite an abnormal situation, and then there’s stress, and maybe bites from that thing works differently, how would we know?”

“And how would we know that she won’t turn into one?” 

The words hit me like a stab in the chest, my breath getting caught in my throat. We don’t know. It’s as easy as that. She could, maybe. 

“Em, if that thing bit you” Mike starts, voice now stern. 

“I know what you’re thinking, and I’m fine!” 

“Are you?”

“Yes!”

“Emily, if the wendigo bit you, you could turn into one of those things”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous” Sam comments, interrupting him. 

“He said it was from eating each other, remember? He said that!” Ashley shrieks, taking another step back. She’s starting to lose it completely, hands shaking, eyes wild. If it weren’t for Emily’s bite, I would have thought she was the one undergoing a monstrous change. She’s so stressed her eyes are starting to water. It’s like she’s already mourning her friend, but we don’t know yet, right? 

“Wait, is that how it worked?” Sam asks her, shaking her head a bit. 

“He said it came from cannibalism, but…” I start, not knowing how to finish. How far does it have to go until someone turns? 

“Yes, exactly” Ash turns to Emily. “If it bit you, you’re going to turn into one, and then you’re gonna turn on us. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” 

“Ashley, you need to calm down!” I urge, head conflicted. I look over to Mike, who seems cool, though he’s staring into the floor. He slowly lifts his head, him and Emily getting eye contact. 

“You can’t be down here with us” 

“What?!”

“Mike!”

“You’ve gotta go…”

“Mike, let’s think about this” I try, but the truth is, I’m every bit as terrified as them. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Emily shouts, one hand still to her wound. It must hurt terribly. 

“You’re putting us all in danger” 

“Like hell I am!”

“Emily, you can’t stay here!” 

“Mike, just cool your head a bit, okay? We don’t know if it works like that” Sam says, trying to deescalate the situation. 

“Yeah, maybe it’s just a bite” I add, doing my best to help her. Mike shifts his attention to me, giving me a dark and stern look. 

“Oh, yeah? Did that really look like a normal wound, huh? Didn’t you find it odd how bad it became after such a short time?”

“Well, none of us have ever seen damage from such a creature, maybe that’s just how it is!” I try, but I sound faltering, uncertain. As if I don’t believe a word I’m saying. 

“I’ve seen what these fuckers can do…” Chris suddenly says, voice low. It seems everyone forgot he was still here, having been quiet in the corner, shaking and crying. We turn, seeing him sitting up a bit straighter, though he still looks tired and exhausted. His eyes are filled with fear, but at the same time, it seems that if something happened right now, he’d just let it happen, without fighting. 

“I don’t want to see it again”

“Chris…” I whisper, not sure what to say. 

“What is this, guys? What are you doing?” Emily speaks, voice shaking as she carefully leans away from us, holding her arms around herself. 

“The door’s right there” Mike comments, with no sense of feeling. “I’m letting you do this voluntarily” 

“Oh no, you’re just making yourself feel better about sending me to my death since you know there’s a wendigo out there ready to rip me to pieces like it did with-”

“Okay, oh my god! Will you just go?” Ashley snaps, pointing to the door, Mike standing up straight beside her. I don’t say anything, just watching as she loses her shit. Ash is probably scared we’re all going to die, and knowing that one thing that might cause it is Emily, who refuses to leave, makes the situation even more stressful. I can’t imagine how Em must be feeling now as well, all her friends, her ex, turning on her like this. I know it’s morally wrong, but morals are a privilege which we don’t have right now. 

“Just go, please!” 

Mike turns, walking over to the table. Just before I can process what he’s doing, he picks up the gun, holding it shakingly with both hands, pointed directly at Emily. 

“Woah!”

“Okay… wait…” 

“Woah, woah, woah, Mike!” Sam tries, hastily walking towards him, trying to snap him out of it. I’ve already taken a few steps back, and so has Ashley. None of us expected something like this to happen. I turn to Chris, who’s looking down, and still shaking. None of us wants this, it’s too far. 

“Michael” I try, but neither of us can snap him out of it. Ashley doesn’t say anything, she just slowly steps away, into another corner, frightened out of her mind. 

“Please, calm down, Mike” Sam tries again, one hand stretching to touch him. He shoves her away, still pointing the gun. 

“You’re going to shoot me?” I hear Emily whimper, on the verge of tears. She’s also taken some steps back, slowly getting back to the workbench. Hands gripping the edge of the table. 

“Mike? Me?” 

“This is the safe-room, Em!” 

“Please…”

“And it’s not safe as long as you’re in it, not for us” 

“N-no” 

Sam turns away from Emily, as if giving up, not arguing with Mike anymore. I look around, and the only one who looks directly at her is the guy pointing a gun to her head. 

“You’re being rash, Mike!” I blurt out, trying to knock some sense into him. He’s not going to kill her, he can’t. 

“Don- Don’t do this…” she cries, slowly moving up on the bench, knees up to her chest, arms wrapped around herself. 

“I’m really sorry” He whispers, and I look away. Then, I hear it. Mike’s loud groan makes everyone turn their eyes on him, seeing him lower the gun, obviously frustrated with himself. 

“Fuck! I can’t do this” He moves away, turning and pacing a little, everyone’s breath caught in our throats. 

“Oh my god…” Emily whispers to herself. 

“You did the right thing” Sam says, and I want to say the same, but I can’t. The words are stuck in my chest, slowly eating me up. The truth is, we don’t know if we’re safe. 

“I hope you did” Ashley spits out, too frightened to mind her tone. She’s keeping her distance, hands trembling, though she’s doing her best to hide it. 

“Maybe… for now” Mike says, taking a look at everyone. Emily is still breathing heavily, refusing to look at him. 

“Shit, fuck, fuck” He mutters, still not sure about the decision. He turns to me and Sam, holding up his finger. 

“Keep an eye on her, and if you see anything weird, you know what to do” He turns to Ashley, and she gives him a small nod. That reaction alone leaves him satisfied, not even looking for acknowledgement from us two, who have the coolest heads in the room at the moment. 

“No one leaves, okay? It’s not safe out there”

“So you’re suddenly going down there now?” I ask, trying to keep my voice firm. There’s no use trying. We should wait for help. 

“I’m not going to sit here and wait” 

“You want to play the hero, Mike? This is a fucked up situation. Even if we get the key to the cable car, we can’t even get there without being ripped to pieces” 

“We’ll figure something out. I’ll be back soon” he says, ending the conversation and walking away. He leaves the gun on the table, and we all stare at it as his footsteps fade away. 

“Mike!” I try calling after him, but he’s already gotten far, and there’s no way I’m following. I sigh, turning and sitting down beside Chris, trying to calm my pulse. Too much has happened. Mike almost killed Emily, and now he was going to kill himself instead. I look over at her, and she’s still trying to catch her breath. Sam takes a couple of steps towards her, but she holds out her hand, not wanting to be consoled. I get it, and Sam does too. All her friends turned on her. I feel horrible, and I would feel even worse if it weren’t for the fear that something might happen to her and she’ll kill us all. 

“You okay?” Sam asks her, but she just looks down, not answering. I feel a big hand on my thigh, squeezing slightly, giving me a little comfort. I put my own hand over Chris’s, using my fingers to stroke over his. He’s calmer, and the stress of the situation slowly oozes out of us, though it’s still trapped in the room. 

A couple of minutes goes by, and nobody says anything. If it weren’t for the fact that I can still hear Emily’s small sobs every now and then, I would’ve thought she was asleep. Ashley carefully stands up, as if it’s a calculated move, and she’s afraid something will jump her. Slowly, she moves towards Emily and the table. Emily doesn’t notice her, but she’s not there for long anyway. She stretches her arm, grabbing a book laying on the edge of the table. One of the things laying in the strange man’s bag. She walks back to her corner, sitting down and starting to read. My interest is peaked, but I keep myself seated beside Chris. His breathing is heavier. He can finally relax a bit. 

“I thought he was gonna help us” Emily suddenly says, having composed herself, quickly drying the remaining tears. 

“Who, the flamethrower dude?” Sam asks, shifting her gaze towards her. 

“Now we don’t have a chance”

“No, it just means we’ve got to be tough” 

“Sam, Mike is going to die down there, and we don’t even know if we’re going to be saved in the morning” I comment, the negative attitude leaving me abruptly. 

“Come on, he’ll be fine. The wendigo is outside now, right, so he’ll get the key and-”

“And then what?” Emily says, a bit of spite in her tone. “As if we’re getting to the cable car at all”

“We can do this, and we’ll do it on our own” Sam says, trying to encourage us. 

“I don’t know if I can” Emily whispers, shaking her head and hiding it on her knees, her arms folded around herself. She seems good. Or, as good as one can be after almost being shot.

Taglist: @porcelainbluedove @b3rryb3t @batteryacid404 @fordthegamelord819

[joyswonderland1108]

Drama. Drama everywhere.

Hello Loves, hope you are all doing okay and having a good life.

Quite honestly i was not going to talk about this because i was trying to stay drama-free for the longest time as i've been busy with uni but also wanted a bit of a break from all the bullshit while i continue to support, appreciate and wait for our boys peacefully.

My reactions for this situation were :

This shit is funny af because here we go again making a scene out of basically nothing.

As much as the situation is funny it is also unfunny when we're looking at the whole scene from different angles.

So to begin we all know why this shit is funny, same story, different day. People will continuously feel pressed about Jimin or Junkook or Jimin AND Jungkook, people always have this obsession of bringing down their bond because for some reason people can't even accept them as two bandmates, it HAS to be two strangers or nothing to them.

The whole "we do not support content that has shipping material" argument is silly to me because darling, if you see member X with member Z doing something totally normal that anyone can do and can still call it "shipping material" that's a you problem, you must be having serious untreated problems and should seek help from a therapist ASAP.

To think that "Tteokbokki by JK" caused so much fire and for what? We've all been knew that the members have been eating together many times before and it wouldn't be the first time that a member would've cooked something that was appreciated by other members. We were even able to see through the moments the boys decided to share with us that Jungkook did in fact cook for Jimin and if anything to me whether it was Jimin who said it or any other member, picking the Tteokbokki by JK as his favourite dish, that to me at least is a really good praise for JK because this could only mean his Tteokbokki is a banger!!

Now moving on to why it is also unfunny and i'm not even going to get into the details that we talk about every single time about how both Jimin and JK get unnecessary hate but i'm going to talk more about the fans.

We should all keep in mind that stan accounts are run by actual people not bots, so this whole thing about making a big deal out of a very small thing and making up lies to justify this hate is absolutely mental. People are receiving death threats through their dms, they're being lied about, they're being doxxed and basically their lives could be in danger and over what? Childish behaviors that are not assumed.

What irks me is those with big platforms who can't bother to do things correctly, and i'm not saying they should not do any mistakes, we're human we do make mistakes and it's okay but what's not okay is knowing damn well we are wrong and not apologizing for it, being able to fix it and not even try but instead proceeding to block the people they were wrong about.

I don't want anyone to tell me that those people behind those big accounts are not responsible, when you have a certain amount of followers you become responsible of the behavior they show after they followed YOUR advise. Like any influencer on the internet, they are responsible for their audience, as the word itself is "influence" which means that the behavior, decisions, actions, etc.. of the audience can be diverted by this person.

Seeing how these big accounts caused a lot of damage to many people over false information that they did not bother to fact check before but even worse didn't even think about making a follow up post apologizing not only for the misinformation but also to the people who have been impacted by it, this says a lot about what kind of people they are and the type of values they grew up with. Because those accounts are owned by real people too, which means that the posts are also influenced by their personality and values, knowing damn well that because of YOU people are being sent death threats and not even a simple "Sorry"?

It is quite sad actually because we're seeing fewer and fewer big accounts in this fandom being completely honest and unproblematic. Ship whoever you want, stan whoever you want, heck if you want to be a solo go ahead no one is stopping you as long as there is no disrespect out there, as long as there are limits, literally no one gives a fuck what you chose to do or believe in.

A this point i feel like i used up all of my energy in writing this post and if i go any longer it would no longer make sense so i'm stopping here. Please, let's do better for our boys, i know there's like a whole year for us to wait for all of them to be together again but i swear a year is not as long as you think it is, so in the meantime please let's work hard for them, if we can't be present on social media as in actively posting and all that's fine but at least let's be supportive and let them know that we did NOT forget them and we are still here for them, we still love them and we will continue to do so.

With that being said, take care of yourselves and have a very nice day.

[nessagigglebox]

Chapter 27 Xaden POV Fourth Wing Favorite Quotes

“Shit like that is why I keep my inconvenient feelings about Violet to my damned self, no matter how good she looks today or how delectable she smells sitting next to me, like some kind of citrus that makes me want to bury my face in the side of her neck and see just how pink I can get her cheeks to flush. No, if I did that, every rider in this room would look at her differently, and not in a good way. Leave it to me to fall for the one woman on the Continent I can never fucking have.”

“Still, I'd put myself right between her and Liam, ignoring his knowing little smirk, when I took the chair closest to Violet. There's nothing going on there, but he can back the fuck up when I'm around.”

“My mind runs through three other battle strategies, then stutters on a fourth as I glance in Violet's direction and catch her lips pursing in concentration. Gods, that mouth. I dream about that mouth. Fantasize about that mouth. That kiss is burned into my memory like a relic, taunting me with what will never happen again, with what I never should have tasted in the first place.”

“My chest tightens annoyingly. Whatever look Violet shot her sister, it was obviously in our defense, and damn if that doesn't hit me straight between the ribs.”

The wispy silver bond solidifies, an emotion - pride —dancing down the pathway even though Violet doesn't move a muscle. Holy shit, we really are connected. This could be —

"Dangerous? Reckless? An unaffordable distraction?" Sgaeyl snaps, and I swear I hear her teeth clash.

"Fun." There's no denying the bond between us when it's shining at me like a fucking mage light. "We can pretend I'm not here, just for the sake of the exercise." I put my figurine on the table and settle in my chair, then wrap my arm around the back of Violet's seat and enjoy the sight of Dain grinding his teeth. "Give Aetos here the position we all know he craves." His jaw flexes, and I leave my arm planted like a battle marker. The command, he can have. I'm mildly curious to see what he does with it. But that's the only position I'm ceding to the spoiled whiner.

"Don't be a dick," Violet whispers.

"You haven't even seen me start to be a dick." I send the words down the bond.

Her head whips toward mine, her lips parting as she openly gawks at me.

It worked. My heart stumbles, and I bite back a laugh. I was wrong.

This isn't just fun, it's instantly vital to my existence. I turn toward her, letting a corner of my mouth rise, and look straight into those hypnotic hazel eyes. "You're staring. It's going to get awkward in about thirty seconds if you don't stop."

"How?" She spits out the whisper like an accusation.

"The same way you talk to Sgaeyl. We're all gloriously, annoyingly linked.

This is just one of the perks. Though I'm starting to wish I'd tried it sooner.

The look on your face is priceless." I wink and turn my attention back to the seething pot of jealousy boiling over across the table.

"You're. The. Wingleader." Dain chokes out the words, and I can't help but wonder if he's submitting to my rank or accusing me of inappropriate behavior with a subordinate.

Not that I give a fuck either way. If it were safe for Violet, I'd be ecstatically guilty of inappropriate behavior. Wickedly inappropriate. In my bed. In hers. On a table in the Archives. In the bathing chamber and every room with a door to lock so no one else can see what's mine. I'd be so decadently inappropriate that her voice would turn hoarse from screaming my name every single day.

But though she'd be the best thing that ever happened to me, I'd be the worst thing that ever happened to her. The truth of it sinks like a stone in my stomach.

"Why are you even here?" Dain whines. "No offense, sir, but we weren't exactly expecting senior leadership on this trip."

"Yes, why are you here?" Sgaeyl doesn't disguise the mockery in her tone.

"You're more than aware that Sgaeyl and Tairn are mated." My voice stays respectfully level. "It was your idea to bring the daggers." I'm careful to only speak down Sgaeyl's bond.

"It seemed a prudent course of action, considering your insufferable intolerance to being separated from the general's daughter." She huffs.

"Three days?" Dain fires back, leaning in. "You couldn't make it three days?"

"Insufferable? That's a bit far."

"Where's Violet now?'" she mocks. "What is she doing? Is she thinking of me? Is she missing me? Is she getting closer to Aetos? Does she dream about that kiss? How many days until Violet's -'"

"Point fucking taken." She's going to be unbearable on the flight home.

"It has nothing to do with him." Violet slams her dragon figurine on the table. "That's up to Tairn and Sgaeyl."

And there she goes again, defending me. Fuck, I love this woman.

"You never considered that it was you I couldn't stay away from?" I ask her. She jabs the point of her elbow into my biceps, and I fight the upward curve of my mouth. I love that she isn't scared of me, that she'll call me out in a way no one else besides Sgaeyl does. Everything she does - even blatantly elbowing me in front of her squad —turns me on. I'm fucked on every level known to man when it comes to Violet Sorrengail. "Now, now, you’ll give our litte communication secret away if you can' keep from being so….violent”

Of course you rush to defend him," Dain whines yet again. "Though how you can forget that this guy wanted to kill you six months ago is beyond me."

He's not lying, but that was when i hated the idea of her, before I knew her -loved her.

Violet stiffens. "I cannot believe you went there."

The hurt in her tone sets my teeth on edge. "Good job remaining professional, Actos." I scratch the relic on my neck to remind him exactly who the fuck I am. "Really shows those leadership qualities to their best advantage."

A rider stationed here whistles. "Do you boys just want to whip it out and measure? It would be faster."

Liam stifles what's obviously a laugh, and I shoot him a sideways look.

"You want to do your job?" Violet's smile practically drips venomous sugar as she turns it on Dain. "I mean, how you can forget you're the squad leader is beyond me."

Fucking love her.

Panic skitters down the silver bond.

"Relax. I's just me." I crook a finger, and a strand of shadow solidifies to skim along Violet's cheek.

"Fuck me," a rider to the left says.

"I can surround this entire outpost, but I think that might freak some people out." I close my hands, and the shadows jolt back to their natural state, letting light pour in through the windows. Damn, that was fun. It was even worth the threat assessment I'm getting from Mira. Violet tenses like she spotted it, too. "I hope you didn't get any ideas while we were in the dark there."

She lifts her middle finger without even looking my way, and a laugh sneaks past my lips as Mira leads us through the rest of the exercise.

"Wasn't my choice." I shrug. Lying is easy, except when it comes to Violet. I haven't quite figured that one out yet.

The truth of the words stings. I might be accomplishing a very risky run, but Sgaeyl is right. We're here because I couldn’t concentrate for shit knowing that Violet was this close to the border. I chose Violet over my wing.

"And next year? When you're a brand-new lieutenant? What shit is she going to miss out on then?" Mira asks.

Yeah, fuck if I know. At this rate, they'll have to station me at Basgiath if I can't get my shit under control and get over —

"Love isn't something you get over," Sgaeyl reminds me. "Why do you think I flew you all the way out here?"

"To mock me while cavorting with your mate."

"I didn't say it was without its perks."

Fuck. What are the rules when it comes to interfering with sisters? Am I supposed to step in? Let Violet handle it? Lewellen let Liam and me beat the shit out of each other when we fought, but I'm not sure that's the right approach here. I'm also not about to infantilize Violet when her sister is doing a damned good job of it herself.

The way she's made? She's fucking perfect. Everything about her is what makes her... Violet.

Or so help me, Dunne, I will throw her over my damned shoulder right in front of everyone.

That approaching drift- and whoever is responsible for compromising the power supply tor the wards - will kill her if given the chance, and that's not something id ever let happen.

"Approaching," Sgaeyl informs me.

But damn, her courage has me tripping over my feelings for her.

"Not fast enough."

Violet isn't going to leave of her own accord; I can see it in her eyes, feel it in the tense lines of her back. I drop my shields, and her emotions hurtle down the bond. Determination. Fear-

She's going to bolt.

And there's only one way to stop her. I lift my hands from her waist to the velvet-soft skin of her cheeks, memorizing every color in her eyes as I cup the back of her neck, preparing to commit what she'll think is an unforgivable sin.

I kiss her. It's hard and raw, wild and desperate, and the way she opens for me, kissing me back with abandon, nearly takes me out at the knees.

Gods, I'll never get enough of this woman. Her mind. Her tenacity. Her mouth.

I kiss her like this might be the last time she'll let me, like this is an alternate reality and there's a chance she could love me back.

I kiss her like she's mine.

It's a stolen moment —it can never be anything more —but it's ours.

Wingbeats approach, and I ignore them, stroking my tongue against hers again and again, keeping my hands at the nape of her neck by sheer force of will, denying the urge to explore every curve, every hollow of her tight body. I've never wanted anyone the way I want her, never craved a woman's laugh as much as her touch or needed her trust more than my next breath. Only Violet.

I tear my mouth away, the steady pulses of wings undeniable as Tairn and Sgaeyl approach. Wind gusts, catching the loosened strands of her hair as I lean my forehead against hers. "Leave for me, Violet."

She stiffens, accusation filling her eyes so quickly that I know she's figured out that I just used our attraction to distract her. "I will hate you for this." Ouch.

"Yeah." I nod, accepting the consequences of my actions. "I can live With that." I can live with anything as long as she's still breathing, so I drop my hands to her arms and force them out at her sides, "Arms up. Hold tight."

"Fuck. You." She hisses out the words as a shadow falls over us, and I hit the floor, catching myself with my hands as a black claw fills the space I just occupied, hooking Violet's arms and snatching her into the sky.

"She'll never forgive me," I tell Sgaeyl as she lands on the narrow perch ahead of me. "Especially if something happens to her sister."

She tilts her head, staring at me with typical impatience as I launch to my feet and sprint down the rampart toward her. We're airborne in seconds, her wings pummeling the air before I even reach the seat. "If she can't forgive you for the least of your transgressions, then she doesn't deserve you."

"I don't think she'll see it that way." I get a good grip on her scales and settle in for the flight.

"Then you'd better start praying to your gods that her sister survives."

So pretty much the whole chapter 😍 Rebecca just pull a “Midnight Sun” already. I’m dying over here 🥹

[armoricaroyalty]

Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Next

author's note: now here are those wholesome sibling relationships we have all come to love and expect from my story!

Transcript under the cut.

Nakawe Palace // Armorican State Visit - Day 2

REPORTER | ...I'm live outside of Nakawe Palace, where the press and members of the public alike have gathered following unconfirmed reports that Crown Princess Rosalind has, for 3 years, conducted a secret relationship. REPORTER | This afternoon, Uspanian tabloid The Concordia Times broke the story of the Crown Princess's relationship with Komrebigan national—and accused murderer—Hakane Satō, also known as Mary Yokoyama. REPORTER | [offscreen] In 2013, Yokoyama was named as a person of interest in the still-unsolved disappearance of her husband, Noah Satō. She was questioned by Komorebigan police in 2013 and again in 2014, but released without charge. Blackwell Palace has yet to comment on this developing story... MARY | [offscreen] Are you sure this is a good idea? ROSALIND | Do you have a better one? MARY | No, but give me a week— ROSALIND | We don't have a week. ROSALIND | [in Komorebigo] Darling, is everything alright? You seem upset. MARY | [forcing a smile] I'm fine. [knock on door] ROSALIND | That's them, now. ROSALIND | You're late. MARY | Good to see you both. EMILY | Don't look at me! I was ready to go while he was still putting his contacts in. FREDERICK | Sorry. I was late getting back from Canarís. I ran into an old friend... ROSALIND | Well...whatever! Come in! Sit down! We need to talk... ROSALIND | So...I'm sure you've seen the news by now. FREDERICK | Heck, I've seen the reporters. They're still all outside, by the way. EMILY | Frederick... ROSALIND | Can you not be a smug know-it-all for 15 minutes? This is serious. ROSALIND | We don't know how the story got out. We're looking into potential leaks, but in the meantime, we can't allow the press to run with this. The longer it's in the headlines, the worse it'll be for the family. EMILY | I'm so sorry, Your Highness. This must be so difficult— FREDERICK | You've got friends in the press. Can't you get Vance Marshall or one of his cronies to kill this one for you? He's done it before. ROSALIND | It's too late for that. It's all over the Uspanian press and the major Armorican networks have already picked it up. Our only option now is damage control, and we'll need something big to bury this one. ROSALIND | [sighs] We need you. Both of you. EMILY | Both of us? FREDERICK | I don't think I like where this is headed... ROSALIND | [offscreen] The only thing that people love more than a royal scandal is a royal wedding. EMILY | ... FREDERICK | ... FREDERICK | Roz, are you shitting me? EMILY | Frederick— FREDERICK | You want me to propose just to bury an embarrassing story? ROSALIND | What's the big deal? You were going to do it, anyway— FREDERICK | get shit from the press every single day of my life! And you have never once lifted a finger to defend me, but I'm supposed to make major life decisions to spare you a couple weeks of bad press? ROSALIND | [offscreen] I am the Crown Princess— FREDERICK | Yeah! I know! You've never once let anyone forget it. ROSALIND | [offscreen] —I have to be beyond reproach. ROSALIND | Unlike you, I do not have the luxury of making mistakes. Everything I do has to be perfect, for the sake of the entire family! Everyone depends on me, Freddy! Do you really think the Armorican taxpayer would keep paying for your fuck-ups if I wasn't included in the bargain? FREDERICK | Oh, poor you, it must be sOoOo fucking hard being the chosen one! ROSALIND | IT'S NOT MY FAULT I WAS BORN FIRST YOU ENTITLED LITTLE— EMILY | [offscreen] [sobs] FREDERICK | ...Em?

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: this is a request by an anon, I have turned it into a Halloween setting for spooky season :) this is the first time I try to write in the present time! so excuse me for any mistakes, I am not used to writing like this but wanted to give it a try.

Warnings: smut! 18+!!

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric needed to be reminded that you only belong to him.

wordcount: 1,5k

Masterlist

'Are you ready for your check-up, sir?'

Uhtred's Halloween party was a busy one, like every year. And like every year, since you've been with Sihtric, you would attend the party together. Sihtric had proposed to you a few months ago, and yet, you still couldn't agree on a couples costume, which was also a problem every year. And this year wasn't any different. You were dressed up as a hot nurse, which Sihtric didn't mind, while he had made a poor attempt by dressing up as Michael Myers. Without the mask and keeping his long hair braided, with his curls in the back. So he was just wearing a blue coverall, which made him look like a hot mechanic actually, but it just wasn't a fun outfit. But then you suddenly had an idea. Because, in an odd way, it actually was a bit of a matching couples outfit afterall, you realised, and grabbed some fake blood you bought earlier that day.

'Michael goes on a murderspree at the Haddonfield hospital in the second Halloween movie,' you grin as you splatter your future husband with fake blood, 'so you can still be Michael, without the mask,' you roll your eyes, 'and I'll just be one of the nurses.'

'Yeah, that works,' Sihtric shrugs, not really caring about matching outfits anyway.

He then enjoys the view as you splash some fake blood on your pushed up cleavage, and some on your arms.

'By the way,' Sihtric says with a wolfish smile, 'your tits look amazing in that latex dress.'

'Just my tits?' you furrow your brow as you turn your back towards him, washing your hands in the sink.

'And your ass,' Sihtric says as he moves up behind you, placing his hands on your buttocks to give a firm squeeze, making you jump lightly. 'And those legs too,' he smiles as he traces his fingertips up your thigh, 'you could wear those fishnets some other time too, you know?'

'Oh, could I?' you smile as you lock eyes in the mirror in front of you, 'you mean in the bedroom?'

'Mhm,' Sihtric hums and wraps his arms around your waist, 'that's exactly what I mean,' he gives a quick kiss to your cheek, then says, 'or, well, not just in the bedroom. Anywhere I can get you alone for even five minutes would work.'

'Of course,' you laugh and turn to him again, wrapping your arms around his neck, 'well, I'll think about it,' you grin and kiss his lips, 'let's go, honey. We're already running late.'

Sihtric thought your tits, ass and legs looked great in that nurse outfit, and much to his displeasure, almost everyone at the party seemed to share his thoughts. Almost all the other ladies are dressed up as some slutty version of a first responder too, but most eyes were landing on you, for some reason. And Sihtric has been biting his tongue for nearly an hour already, watching guy after guy come up to you whenever you stray even slightly from his side. He understands those men think you look hot, but how they think you are single is beyond him, as that huge rock around your ring finger should be clear enough of a sign that you are taken and in a committed relationship.

'Honey,' you say as you wrap your arms around Sihtric, noticing his sour face, 'what's the matter, babe? You look upset.'

Sihtric mumbles something inaudible and rubs his hand over his frustrated, blood splattered face as he circles one arm around you. And then he sees a guy walk by who has his eyes on your ass, and seconds later, another guy winks at you. And finally, Sihtric loses it.

'I want to go home, love,' he suddenly says, 'I've seen enough here.'

'What?' you ask, confused, 'babe, we just got here like an hour ago? I mean, shit, I'm not even tipsy and you want to go home already? Are you not feeling well, sweetie?'

'No, it's,' Sihtric sighs, 'every fucking guy here keeps flirting with you, eyeing up, trying to hit on you. It just pisses me off. I'm not having fun anymore.'

'Oh, sweetheart, come on,' you groan as you look up at him, your chin on his chest, 'you know I have no eyes for anyone that is not you,' you say and move your hands to his fine ass, 'others can look, but you're the only one who gets to touch,' you smile.

'Yeah, well, they shouldn't look or even attempt anything,' he says, 'can't they see the ring around your finger, I mean… what the fuck?'

'You're usually so good with this stuff,' you say, 'so calm. What's different tonight that it's getting at you?'

'I don't know, baby,' Sihtric says and shakes his head lightly, 'I'm… I'm just not feeling that confident tonight, I guess. I'm sorry, I don't know why.'

'Oh, hon,' you pout and cup his cheeks, 'that's okay, love. But you know you have nothing to worry about, right?'

'Right, yeah,' he mumbles, not very convincing.

'Hey,' you say sternly, 'you have nothing to worry about. I'm yours and yours alone, no matter how many other men may look at me or try to hit on me. I'm yours only,' you reassure him and kiss his cheek.

And just when your lips leave his cheek, another random guy comes up to you.

'H-hey,' the stranger slurs, 'can you… like… ch-chh-check up on my c-cock, nurse?'

You give the stranger a nasty face while Sihtric becomes furious.

'No, I'm a private nurse,' you hiss and quickly push your partner away from the drunk, 'and I have an appointment now!'

You push Sihtric towards the entrance hall of Uhtred's house, up the stairs, and into the bathroom. You lock the door and turn to face Sihtric, who is staring at you with big eyes.

'Are you ready for your check-up, sir?' you pur as you push him against the wall and unzip his coverall.

'Wha-' Sihtric wants to ask, but immediately bites back a moan when you take his hardening arousal in your hands, 'oh,' he sighs and leans back against the bathroomwall.

'Hm,' you hum and kiss his lips, 'I need it to be a little harder,' you whisper in his ear before you kiss his neck, 'can you get a little harder for me, baby?'

'Mhm,' Sihtric hums with a smile and chuckles, 'yes, nurse.'

'Good,' you say and sink down to your knees, 'perfect,' you smile up at him as you work his length with your hands, enjoying the sigh of his toned torso peeking out between his unzipped coveralls.

You lock eyes with Sihtric as you lick the tip of his cock, causing him to bite down on his lip, and he throws his head back when you wet his cock with your saliva before you take him in your mouth. You suck him off for a good while, enjoying the way he twitches on your tongue and how he struggles to contain his moans.

'It's good to let it all out,' you tease, after almost making him finish, but you get up from your knees just before. 'I need to check your pulse now,' you drag your lips and tongue over his neck, biting and sucking his pulsepoint, earning moans and whines from your man continuously.

'Yeah, that sounds good,' you husk, then kiss his lips as Sihtric grabs your waist.

You turn around and bend over the bathroom sink, locking eyes in the mirror again with Sihtric, just like you did before, at home.

'I need you to fuck me now,' you grin as you wiggle your ass at him, 'real hard, so I can determine your levels of anger and frustration.'

Sihtric licks his lips as his hand runs down your back, he shoves your latex dress up slightly, pulls your thong to the side and rips half of your fishnet tights before he eagerly pushes inside you.

'Fuck,' he sighs and closes his eyes, biting down on his lip.

'Yeah, just like that,' you pur when Sihtric slowly thrusts into you, 'a little harder now.'

Sihtric listens and quickens his pace gradually, taking you deeper. It doesn't take long before you both become a moaning mess, and then Sihtric loses his self control fully.

'Yes, yes!' you moan with a smile, 'fucking give it to me, bad boy.' 

You giggle at Sihtric's growl as he continues to ravage you in that bathroom, remembering he's the only one who gets to touch you and enjoy you. You claw at the sink, knocking over tiny bottles of soap and a glass with a toothbrush, while Sihtric pounds into you without mercy.

'I need you to claim me,' you moan, 'fill me up with your cum.'

And only seconds later, Sihtric finishes inside you with a heavy grunt, filling you up and claiming you while he pulls your hair and has a hand around your neck, just as you had ordered. 

And after he zips up his coveralls again, and you pull down your dress as far as it would allow, you both look at each other, and break out in soft laughter.

'Feeling a little better, honey?' you ask and wrap your arms around his neck.

'Yeah,' Sihtric smiles, his cheeks a soft shade of pink, 'thank you, nurse,' he laughs softly and pulls you in for a kiss.

'Good,' you smile and nuzzle his nose, 'I love you.'

'And I love you,' he whispers and holds you tightly in his arms for a moment.

'Still want to go home?'

'Maybe,' Sihtric says with a cheeky smile, 'but only so I can hit that fine ass of yours again.'

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[mellodyevangeline]

I'm imagining a BNHA adjacent world where there's this schlubby middle-aged ace dude named Fred or something has passive succubus style pheromone abilities that he cannot turn off, so everywhere he goes people are just falling all over themselves hoping to get a piece of him.

The thing is, while he doesn't enjoy having these powers, he still finds ways to make use of them. He wins almost every dating show because both the bachelors and bachelorettes want him so badly. Eventually the production crews learn to recognize this guy because Holy Shit he's ruining the entire industry at this point, but every time they try bar his entry he hits them with that "If you let me through I'll love you forever" bit and it works EVERY SINGLE TIME.

He makes a lot of money using these tricks, but after not too long of this every villain is wearing a hazmat suit on every mission, and he realizes that it's because of him. He's changing the entire villain meta and it's wiggin everyone out.

Without warning Fred just falls off the face of the earth. Just completely dissappears. Everyone assumes he had a rival that took him out or he just died in a car crash or something, but either way no one sees him again.

But 10 years later a man runs for president of the United States and he is unilaterally accepted as the president before the votes can even be cast. Law makers are falling over themselves trying to get him in the oval office ASAP.

As soon as he's in office, he passes through several laws that are widely adored, things like bans on fracking, UBI, defund the police, etc. He attends a UN meeting and everyone LOVES his proposals and every member of the UN agrees to sweeping social policy changes as well as complete disarmament.

And after his 4 year term is over, much to the chagrin of his international fan base, he decides to never run again, or pursue a monarchy as some had begged for.

Shortly before his death, Time Magazine's "The Most Beloved President of All Time, Like We're Being So Cereal Right Now" publishes a memoir detailing his rise to fame.

Of course he had been Fred. But after giving it a lot of thought he decides to meet with 3 people: A plastic surgeon who changes his face in exchange for a kiss, a chemist who synthesizes his unique pheromones for a hug, and finally a surgeon who carefully removes the mutant organ that was pumping out this super strong love juice in exchange for the privilege of keeping it in a jar on his desk.

Using the synthesized pheromone, Fred uses it at strategic times to get what he wants here and there in small, almost unrecognizable ways.

He convinces a CEO to sell him majority stock in his lucrative tech company. He convinces many unconnected contractors across the US to install aerosol cannisters throughout every major US city. Finally He convinces every metropolitan area mayor that these cannisters are his way of giving back to community and cleaning the smog out of the air for good.

Of course, these were lies. Over the course of his election cycle, Fred slowly releases his synthesized pheromones from these canisters, convincing more and more people each day to vote for him.

His universally loved "Clean Air Towers", accepted by the UN and eventually every nation on earth, also spread these pheromones to most every corner of the globe.

But after his work was done and people finally began to leave him alone once more, he turned off these machines and got back to what he was doing before he developed these annoying powers.

Eating meat lovers pizzas and watching ALF reruns.

[sidhewrites]

22! Someone else write this for me i'm just throwing things at the wall and seeing what sticks. We got the end of the renfield arc and setting up for the climax of the book, but god knows if any of it makes any sense.

Project Info

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"Right," I say. "Cool." We're fucked. "What's next on the list?" When Josie doesn't answer, I look over to see her wide-eyed, mouth agape. "Josie?"

"I don't know. This is..."

"We've got to convince him to trade his body for this one," Lucy butts in. She's flickering in and out of visibility. Magnus' magic ghost power shit is messing with her own tether to this world as she stares down the ghosts around us, daring them to come closer. "It's a banishing ritual, right? So we've got to drag him out of there quickly."

[They go up, and have to basically distract him while the world is being sucked into the grave, while Lucy and Josie say a spell. Rocks are floating, bits of the church are starting to crumble.]

I feel a piece of my heart break off with every brick that starts to crumble. The church hasn't been used in decades, but it's part of the graveyard. My graveyard. And I won't let some old fart with a noise complaint ruin it.

So I renew my efforts to get his attention. I jump around and wave my hands. "Hey! Mags! Over here, asshole!" He spares me a single glance, but it doesn't work for long. I throw a rock, but it misses him entirely and falls into the grave with the rest of the rubble. I try again, but my aim really is shit, so I resort to something else.

"Behold the power of..." I pull my phone out and search for the most annoying song I can think of. It blares out of the tinny speakers, pathetically quiet all things considered, but it's enough.

Magnus whirls on me, eyes glowing. "Turn that off."

"Welcome to the 21st century, Maggie! We got music everywhere!"

He lashes out, throwing a wave of ectoplasm at me. I dodge, barely managing to keep a hold on my phone as I circle him as fast as I can. "Any time now would be good!" I shout. I don't know where Josie and Lucy are anymore, but it doesn't matter. I just have to keep him distracted long enough for them to finish the invocation.

The song ends, and I press play again, ready to loop it for as long as necessary. My heart's hammering, and my lungs burn, but I don't have time to waver. Instead, I push through, drawing on as much strength as I can to keep circling Magnus, staying just out of reach and just ahead of his poorly-aimed attacks.

He scolds me and monologues as we go, telling me I'm stupid and useless and kids these days, but it doesn't matter.  I can outlast him. I have to.

And, sure enough, a few minutes later, his rambling stops. I let myself slow to a walk, ready to sprint away again in a second if I have to, but there's no need. He's bent double, apparently having the world's worst stomach ache as the ghostly body around his bones starts to waver and deform. Blobs of light pull away and break off, pieces of him coming apart one by one, until there's nothing left but bones.

With the glowing power gone, there's nothing left to hold Magnus' corporeal body together. The skeleton falls apart piece by piece, nothing but a crumpled heap on the ground. What I can only describe as ghost goo remains floating above the pile, waiting a moment before flying at me.

"Run!" I shout, but we don't have a chance. It hits me in the chest, leaving me feeling sick and dizzy for a second, but it fails to do anything more. Instead, the ball of goo simply goes right through me, towards where Josie and Lucy have hidden. Josie's still got Renfield in her arms when the lights hit him and begin to melt into his fur. He wakes up with a start, yowling and hissing -- and then heaving. For a second, I'm terrified Magnus is possessing Renfield again, but it doesn't last long.

The light centers into a single point in Renfield's chest, and he hops down from my arms. Slowly, it rises up his throat, and with the familiar hacking that comes with a hairball-prone cat, he vomits up what looks like a glowing glob of goop that slithers over, slug-like, to the urn.

I feel my mouth twist into a scowl of disgust. "Is that...?"

Lucy nods. "That's Sunthorpe's soul. Or, rather...what's left of him."

"Do we banish him? Sweep it up?"

She shakes her head, and looks to Josie. "You're the expert on this sort of thing."

We watch for a second, scowling in disgust as Magnus' soul slorps into the urn. It takes all my will not to go kick the damn thing, if only because I'm afraid that touching it might fuck something up.It doesn't make me feel less angry, but I'm doing better at the whole thinking-before-I act thing.

Plus I'm exhausted, so. "Now what?" I want to go to bed, but I don't think that's going to be in my immediate future.

"We should get Renfield checked out again," Josie says. "Just in case."

"Poor thing," Lucy agrees. "He's been through a lot in so short a time."

I sigh. He didn't deserve to get mixed up in all of this. He was just a frightened old man with kitty Alzheimer's and kitty arthritis and kitty asthma and... well, now, he deserved a trip to a kitty spa, or something. But I can't just leave. One look at the mess around us makes it clear that won't be happening any time soon. I don't have solid proof that Mr. Ngo would blame me for whatever is happening here, but I don't want to risk it after my behavior the past few days.

Helplessly, I turn to Josie. "I'm sorry, but..."

"I got it." She puts a hand on my arm. "Am I still your emergency contact at the vet?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

She nods, and squeezes my arm. "You both owe me an interview later." She points first at me, then at Lucy -- who starts. "I can see you now, Mrs. Blue, and I intend to make the most of it." Before heading off into the night, Josie whispers a quick, "She's really hot," into my ear. I don't get a chance to respond before she slips away. I don't let myself dwell on it for long before getting to work. There's a lot that needs cleaning up before Mr. Ngo shows up today, and I don't want to risk being caught out here in the rubble.

My first target is Magnus's skeleton, gathering his bones and funeral suit up in a sloppy pile and dumping it into the coffin lying in pieces at the bottom of the hole. As soon as they land, a twinge of regret has me thinking I should have been a bit more ceremonious about the whole thing. But what's done is done, and I tell myself I did more than enough by not spitting on him again, especially now that my lip isn't bleeding. Fucker.

I'm nicer to the urn, at least. I don't want to risk it breaking and releasing him back into the world.

Lucy waits at the grave while I sprint to retrieve a shovel and work gloves from the shed. When I return, she says "I feel it would be appropriate to say a few words." Before I can blanch in terror, she rushes to add, "I'll take care of it. You take care of him."

I nod, and begin to fill the grave as she gives her eulogy.

"Here we lay to rest Magnus Sunthorpe -- again -- and, hopefully, this time for good. In life, he was a steadfast man who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to get it. He was much the same in death. [She gives a two-sided pointed eulogy.]"

"Good?"

"Good."

She stays off to the side, watching as I move the dirt. I even catch her ogling a few times, gaze shamelessly trailing down my gross, sweaty bare arms and my sexy muscles.

I totally don't flex. But, if I had, it would have been extremely subtle and suave and not obvious at all.

"You okay?" Lucy says, in the minutes before dawn.

I hesitate. Then, "I will be. I think. Things will be better after this."

"Come back at sunset, all right? Let me know how the little boy is doing."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Okay." She gives me a weary smile, and wanders off into the shadows to fade into nonexistence until night. Now all that's left is to review the work. It's not exactly pretty. Even if I've done what I can, it's all too clear that the dirt's been freshly dug. My job is in enough jeopardy as it is, and I don't want Mr. Ngo thinking I was one who dug it up and destroyed the coffin and skeleton, even if the dead guy totally deserved it.

So instead, I don my thickest gloves, and wander around the overgrowth. There are hundreds of people here, names lost to time, with nobody left to mourn. I spend the day at war with the wildflowers. By noon, I'm covered in sweat, and I've scraped both my knees and tried not to think about any potential consequences that might arise from accidental blood sacrifices to the dead. But the scrapes, the blisters, and the aching back are worth it. I've made a rudimentary walking path to each grave and cut roses to lay at the head of each grave.

"I know it's not much," I say each time, "but I hope it helps you have a nice day."

Next, I retrieve Ruby's spell book and find one of the tour guides -- Aiden, a young kid who still doesn't know what he wants to do with his life. I ask him to see if he can find a list of everyone who's been buried here. I promise to pay him under the table, since anything on the books would be wildly expensive with overtime.

"It'll likely be in basement level two at the library. If the librarian's there, don't make any Star Wars puns or anything. Just ask her for what you need. Oh-- and give her this." I hand over the spell book. "Don't open it. Just tell her Kaz says thank you for the help, and that I owe her my life. Literally." I hope that mentioning my name doesn't put him on Ruby's bad side immediately. For a moment, I think she might like me after yesterday, but I don't want to push my luck with someone like her.

Aiden gives me a salute and heads off to his secret mission. I look and feel half dead, but dutifully take his place as a tour guide to a group of costumed visitors, talking them through the history of Sutton Cemetery and its purported ghosts.

I'm standing by the old tree -- by Lucy's grave, I now realize, and pause for a moment, my face growing warm. I know she can't manifest during the day, but it's hard not to almost expect her to leap out from behind the tree in an attempt to spook me.

And then something rustles.

I frown, and turn back to the group. "One second, please." Abandoning them on the walking path, I step carefully over to the tree. Footprints lead around the grave, crushed leaves and flattened grass painting a clear picture of someone's trail through the graveyard.

A low groan emanates from the other side of the trunk.

Jesus fuck, I think. If zombies are real, I'm going to sacrifice to the horde just to get it over with.

It gets louder as I approach the tree, and more frenzied. More hungry.

"Hello...?" I say.

The zombie leaps out at me with a snarl -- and comes up short as I fall back, cursing and swearing. It's silhouette looms over me, blotting out the sun, viscera dripping from its limbs.

It bends low over me, and tilts its head. "Kaz," Mr. Ngo says. "I'm very disappointed in you for stealing my costume idea."

I have no words.

Mr. Ngo helps me up, giving me a long and disapproving once over. He's clearly spent hours on his costume, with fake wounds, an eye bulging from the socket, green and grey mottled skin visible through bloody, tattered clothes.

It's a fair assessment on his end. I'm covered in dirt, sweat, and band-aids, and my clothes are only mildly less disgusting. With a heroic amount of restraint, I avoid going into detail, and answer,  "I had a personal project to take care of."

He looks distinctly unimpressed.

"In the historical quarter. Wanna me to show you?" I think I'd rather melt into my shoes.

Still, he raises a brow, and nods. "Excuse me," he says over my shoulder. The crowd of tour-guests aren't quite sure what to make of the zombie currently talking to them as if he was in charge here. "I'm afraid the tour has to be cancelled for now. See the front desk for refunds."

When they disperse, I look at him helplessly. "Mr. Ngo, I--"

"I don't want to hear it, Kaz. You've been causing trouble for weeks now. Is something going on outside of work I should know about? Is something wrong?"

"No -- well. It..." I fumble. "No, not anymore."

His look doesn't waver. I know I've fucked up royally from the first time I called the Haunted Archivists begging them to come back. I guess I should be more grateful he isn't firing me on  the spot, when showing up to work the way I do would count as a serious warning to anyone else.

"Let me...just show you." I gesture vaguely, and take him out towards the oldest part of the graveyard, shadowed by old growth trees and, until recently, overrun with tall grass and weeds. But now, you can see each headstone, scraped of all moss and lichen, weeds removed from the immediate area. I've got weeks worth of work left to make the whole area presentable, but it's easy to see how much work I've done in just one day.

Mr. Ngo doesn't want to look impressed, but I can see the corner of his mouth twitch under the latex and costume makeup. He has every right to be angry with me, but I know that, were the circumstances better, he'd be over the moon. In the end, however, he holds back from saying anything about it at all. "Go home, Kaz. I'll see you tomorrow."

I let out a breath. I still have my job. And, now that Magnus is dealt with, I won't be doing anything to put it in jeopardy ever again.

"Can I get you lunch or anything?" I ask. "The flesh of the living? Brains, maybe?"

"Don't forget to shower."

I don't have to be told a third time.

Tag List

@adaughterofathena

@ambreeskyewriting

@carnelianflames

@feather-dancer

@halfbloodlycan

@nadunacreates

@serenanymph

@vigilantdesert

[windsorbay]

THE CHARACTER.

FULL NAME: JC Pérez

GENDER: Cis man

PRONOUNS: He/Him

AGE + BIRTHDAY: 23 + February 14, 2002

LENGTH OF TIME IN WINDSOR BAY: Born and raised

HOUSING: Downtown

OCCUPATION: Part-Time @ Salsa Street Grill & Spotlight Cinema

THE INTERVIEW.

What’s it like, living in Windsor Bay? Did you ever picture yourself settling down here or did you always know this would be your home?

"Block the Pérez tribe? Man, that'd be like cutting off my own arm. Yeah, we're close, probably too close sometimes. My abuela's the backbone of everything, she practically runs the family from her kitchen and thinks feeding me is the solution to every problem—and honestly, her tortillas might be. Five generations of Pérez decisions have been made at her table. Mamá is fierce though. She single-handedly raised me while hustling at Best Stitch and teaching. She never once made me feel like I was holding her back, you know? My uncle's been like a dad, teaching me everything from changing tires to shaving or handling myself in a fight. He sneaks me design gigs when I'm broke, which is… often. My sibling is following the 'proper Pérez path'—we clash but they got my back when it counts. And cousins? Too many to count, but they're the first ones I call when shit gets real. We argue, we meddle in each other's business, but at the end of the day, being a Pérez means never really being alone. Even when I wish I was. Todo para la familia, everything for the family."

If you could recommend one hidden gem around town everyone should try, what is it? What makes it so special?

"Everyone hits up the tourist spots, but the real Dub B. is behind The Comic Vault downtown. There's this alley where local artists, myself included, have been adding murals for years. The owner lets us use the back wall as a canvas as long as we keep it 'tasteful enough for kids.' It's like a visual timeline of the town's underground art scene. Some pieces have been there since before I was born, others might only last a week before someone paints over them. My favorite part is this corner where my cousin first taught me to use spray paint when I was twelve…probably shouldn't admit that publicly, huh? Anyway, it's constantly changing, completely authentic, and absolutely free. The best view is around sunset when the light hits everything just right. Just don't tell the tourists, it's one of the few spots we locals still have to ourselves."

It’s the little things in life; tell me three things that bring you a great deal of joy or put a smile on your face.

"First, those rare mornings when I wake up before my alarm and just sketch whatever's in my head while the coffee brews. No pressure, no audience, just creating. Second, watching my little cousins get excited when I teach them how to draw something they thought was impossible, that moment when their faces light up because they actually did it themselves. And third… my mom's laugh. Not the polite one she uses at family functions, but her real laugh, the one that comes out when she's surprised by something genuinely funny. Growing up, if I could get that laugh out of her after a hard day, I knew everything would be okay. Still works that way."

THE PERSONALITY.

— + Loyal, Creative, Compassionate — - Guarded, Impulsive, Stubborn

JC IS PORTRAYED BY SAMUEL KIM ARREDONDO, AND WRITTEN BY MARIO.

[the-firebird69]

tommy F is still plotting along with the little baby boy he is yelling threats promising things is not really gonna do anything for the most part but last night it blew grabbed his people in the gut information and on ships and in this area and areas like it and when sets it apart is that you have one or two 100 mile ships above it and you're forcing things out of people and you're forcing it out of the area and you're bringing it right to the area you're forcing it out now you find out you were doing this a while ago and they fight you on it you refuse to stop now they're going after you and they're gonna have to pretty good they are taking big strides to collect you and you can just sit around and say stupid **** or threaten that sign and get nothing I can actually go to work and leave them alone you're hopelessfaggot and we mean it your a homo. weak shit too. They're going around cheating screwing people over acting the big boss threatening your own kind when it comes down to it you're just another **** **** you're not acting and you're not doing anything you're sitting there like nothing happened you went out to these people they stopped you now you're having a war it's your fault and you started it if you wanna blame us we are going to take your ships and what he says is if we don't take them the Empire will and they don't know who I am I definitely don't know who we are I've heard this before too you people running around saying he's a stranger when he's here everyday so we are going to go after you and make sure that you learn you're never to talk to us the way you do or to treat him that way you're a fucking piss boy . you had it last time too strategies **** and we're starting to believe people that you think the clones killed your kids and your wife and some things it's the matte proper and it's got some proof and you ignore it so all I can say is have a nice day get out of our face or we're going to crush you and every single teeny remnant of you for your laughing and chortling and our son's problems it really is not going to help you that's what we have to say as a whole

Thor Freya

andw e have this to say we did it knew what we were doing and did push it to force a launch prior to macs just taking it. now we have to.

so that is that and is why

tommy f

we see. so you sit back and fart now. good. how lame.

Thor Freya

We're not sitting back and farting it seems like we are but we're not really doing that. We are trying to get it together and we're trying to do things and it doesn't seem to be working and this guy trump is a big rap and we do understand that he's the one doing it so we would like to clear that up with everybody that we're not telling on ourselves to get it done and stop seeing we are. We're gonna try a few things and we're gonna try and get it going and if we can we will end up launching that's what we're up to if you have any complaints you should direct them at someone else and my friend says I don't think so and if you try and shoot at me your brain is going to leave your skull so fast it'll be in pieces tommy F and I do get that there's no chance at doing it again unless I wish to die permanently and that's right and that's what everybody is saying and that's what it's gonna happen if you don't understand it like you don't goodbye and good riddance because you're so freaking dumb.. And I'll say this I intend on trying And I'll say this I intend on trying to say goodbye and he says that and it will be over I guess it says good guess you freaking jerk and that's what people are going to do to you they don't need a flippant crow Magnum **** to steal from them 24 hours a day they need an inventor so they're saying if they try and shoot you again we're going to shoot him badly and I heard it and it went silent and then you got shot in the head so I understand what they're saying now you're admitting that you're gonna keep trying so you're probably gonna get shot in the head so goodbye he says. And I guess that's what they're gonna do

tommy f

yup

mac daddy

your darn tootin

trump

we shoot you not him and shoot you again if you try it again and now too

woody

we shoot you too

bill

and us

mmichael tew

and us too justin ken

and us too

preston

and us

bja brad jason and more

ustoo grandkids of trump and yeh we think you shot us that day. and tons say it too. so we shoot you prior to you trying

paul bammens and thankyou

and we use this need ot and shoot you tommy f in the head if you ry on us or him

garth

and all of us too

Thor Freya

Olympus

[casspurrjoybell-27]

Claimed by the Beast - Everett's Epilogue

*Warning: Adult Content*   

YEARS LATER - Part 1

When Everett rolls to a stop in the driveway of his home, seeing several cars parked randomly around the front yard makes him curse under his breath.

"Everyone is here already? Shit. I didn't get time to wrap the twins' presents," he mutters while exiting the car in a hurry not to get spotted.

He pops the trunk to grab a pair of plush lions from his latest conservation project in Africa, along with several other unwrapped gifts.

He juggles them awkwardly as he makes his way up to the front door.

It swings open before he can balance the presents to fumble for his keys.

"Need help?" Knox greets him with an amused grin while taking a portion of the gifts.

"What's the frown for?"

"I should've listened to you," Everett says with a pout as they step inside together.

"I should've bought the gifts earlier instead of at the last minute. I didn't get time to wrap them because my meeting ran over..."

"Calm down, Kitten." Knox's strong arms wrap around him from behind once their hands are free.

Everett allows himself a moment to melt into the man's warmth.

"They're just kids. They don't give a shit whether their gifts are wrapped or not."

"Watch your mouth," Everett playfully scolds.

"They might hear you."

"Not possible. We're still in the foyer and they're too busy kicking Finn's ass to notice."

Just then, Everett hears the lively shrieks coming from the living room.

He orders Knox to hide the gifts in one of the spare bedrooms before making his way over to greet the birthday boy and girl.

He finds Finn, red-faced from exertion, trying in vain to wrangle his and Rachel's twins and keep them from jumping on the couch cushions.

"What's going on in here? Sounds like a party is happening without me," Everett announces, his arms open wide.

"Come here, munchkins."

"Uncle Eve. Uncle Eve."

Two small bodies scramble off the couch and barrel into him at high speed, nearly knocking the breath out of his lungs.

"Happy Birthday, Uncle Eve," Lillian giggles.

"Hey, it's not my birthday, silly girl. It's you and your brother's birthday today." Everett chuckles, tousling the twins' hair before they start to run circles around him.

"Slow down before you hurt yourselves. I don't want to get yelled at by your Mama."

The kids laugh him off and return to play fighting with Finn.

"When are you and Knox gonna be available for weekend sleepovers?" Finn asks, only half-joking.

Everett snorts.

"I love you guys but literally never."

The front door opens again and in walks Alissa and Michael, their arms laden with dishes covered in aluminum foil.

The smell of grilled pork and beef has Everett's stomach rumbling louder than Finn's pained wail after Finley Jr. accidentally socks him in the eye.

Now, this kind of chaos?

Everett could live in it every single day.

"I think someone else needs to man the grill because I'm pretty sure Mikey overcooked the pork chops," Alissa announces.

"And the bratwursts..."

"Thanks a lot, snitch."

Michael greets Everett in passing.

"Hey, man. When's the next big trip?"

"Not for a couple more months."

Everett smiles, following them into the kitchen where he finds Rachel making a massive salad.

"Hey, Racheal."

"Hey, Everett. Thanks for having us over this year."

She washes her hands after finishing up, and then pulls him into a brief hug.

"I'm absolutely obsessed with the new floor that you guys got installed. You'll have to give me the names of the people who did it."

"Oh, it was just Knox. He didn't want people coming in and out of the house, so he decided he'd do it himself," Everett chuckles.

"The guy is a quick learner."

'Speaking of which, where'd he run off to? Shouldn't take this long to hide a few presents.'

"Well, let him know I'd pay him to re-do our floors the next time he gets bored and wants something to do," Rachel says.

"I'm gonna take over the grill before Michael scorches everything we've bought. See ya out there."

Everett laughs.

"See ya."

As she walks by, Finn's gaze trails appreciatively after his wife.

"I fucking love that woman."

One twin giggles.

"Daddy, no bad words."

Extracting himself from the Monroe's and Alissa and Michael's playful bickering, Everett sneaks off upstairs to his bedroom to change clothes and freshen up.

Having only lived in the small bedroom at The Fallen's Angels' clubhouse, Knox knew exactly what he wanted when designing this house with Everett.

He specifically wanted the master bedroom to be grand in size with a minimalistic style, the colors a mix of black, gold and white.

Everett had minimal complaints throughout the construction process.

He was just happy to watch Knox work on a dream that he created for himself and watch it actually come to fruition.

Everett quietly slips inside to find Knox fiddling with something at the dresser.

He hastily shuts a drawer as Everett tosses his jacket aside and begins undressing.

"You good in here?" Everett asks, shrugging out of his jeans.

"Thought you might've gotten lost on your way back."

"No, I was just, uh...meddling with something," Knox replies, sounding oddly flustered.

He slips a hand in his pocket, then turns to face Everett.

"How was work today? I didn't get to ask you earlier."

Everett sighs as he walks into Knox's waiting embrace, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Rewarding and exhausting at the same time. You?"

"Same," Knox murmurs, pressing a kiss to Everett's temple.

"Want me to join you in there?" he smirks, suggestively, nodding toward their en-suite bathroom.

"Absolutely not," Everett shakes his head and playfully shoves Knox back.

"We're the hosts, remember? At least one of us has to be out there at all times helping to entertain our guests and making sure Michael doesn't burn anything down."

"Who even let him on the grill to begin with?" Knox groans but relents.

"Fine. I'll head back out there but you hurry up in here. It takes a village to monitor those crazy kids."

"I'll be quick."

Everett gives him one last peck before entering the bathroom.

"I love you."

Knox smiles after him.

"I love you more."

********

By the time Everett returns to the party, freshly showered and changed, everything is in full swing.

After Knox purchased the land, it took about a year and some change for their house to be built.

It's two stories of sleek design surrounded by tall trees and a gated perimeter with a state-of-the-art security system.

It provides the safety and privacy they both crave, especially given Knox's MC affiliations.

'I still can't believe this is all ours'.

Everett's gaze sweeps across the few acres they call their own... a big beautiful stretch of land that feels infinite in moments like this.

The expansive backyard where the party is held, visible through the glass sliding doors, was once home to Knox's motorcycle shop, Hansley Restorations but as his clientele grew, Knox wisely chose to move the business elsewhere, keeping their home separate from the shop's dealings.

That never stopped his brothers from coming by to pay a visit, though.

These days, Knox's involvement with The Fallen Angels MC is minimal, only helping out when absolutely necessary.

His priority now is Everett and his business.

Loving him, maturing with him, growing old with him and helping tend to the needs of their new home.

Everett is on the exact same page.

It's just too bad that his father isn't.

Gary and Sarah are the only ones missing from today's fun.

Gary's relationship with Knox has come a long way, though traces of distrust still linger.

'Baby steps,' Everett constantly reminds himself but on a positive note, at least his parents allow him and Knox over for family dinner every other Sunday now.

Progress.

Another round of laughter rings out, drawing Everett's attention and pulling him out of his head.

He looks on to find Knox chasing one of the twins around the lawn, both of them grinning from ear to ear.

The sight makes Everett's heart swell tenfold.

There was a time when Everett feared their relationship was doomed to end in heartbreak and at one point, death.

He feared that the baggage of Knox's past would be too much to overcome but watching his man now, so carefree and happy, Everett has never been more grateful to be proven wrong.

With a smile, Everett jogs forward to be one with the beautiful madness that is his new life. 

[vulpes-aestatis]

The people on Hatteras Station are baseline human by only the barest definition. Our stock was engineered to survive our dark age after all. Smaller stature means less body mass and thus lower caloric requirement. Larger eyes with greater light sensitivity means less station power wasted on lighting. Likewise our insides are all sorts of tweaked, we can basically subsist on garbage if we have to. And let's not forget the fact that we basically gave up on sexual reproduction and a lot of things that came with that.

But at the end of the day, we're still baseline: air breathing, terran comparable gravity tolerance, typical number of heads and limbs and other appendages.

And yeah, I've seen my share of mods and augments, both bio and tech. I myself have a prehensile tail grafted onto my spine, and I've been through a couple courses of gene hacking as attested by my ears and the pink and black fur running along my back.

That absolutely does not prepare me for this.

I try my hardest not to stare at them as they drift past me, but they're… well, they're alien. They're so heavily tweaked and modded that they might not even qualify as human any more.

I'm standing on the wall of a massive torroidal promenade. It's a lot like the one back home, but where Central keeps us at a comfortable 0.8g, gravity here is barely a suggestion. Anything truly adrift makes its way lazily towards the outer edge, but I would hardly call it a floor.

I have my feet and tail hooked around a support railing to keep myself from accidentally launching off into the crowded space. We all get micro-g training back home in the station hub, but it always made me sick to my stomach. With the atmo so thin here, it's worse.

I'm trying to examine an information display. It has a whole long list of scheduled arrivals and departures and what I'm fairly certain are job postings.

I should pick one and run, just sail off into the black and disappear. Away from Central and Hatteras and that gods-forsaken ship that has done nothing but make my life hell.

I have barter, odds and ends that I convinced her I could trade in exchange for information. Just pick one and go.

Just go. Go go go.

I'm fucking scared out of my mind. I'm scared of running. I'm scared of staying.

One of the eel people pauses near me, one of their many hands grasping my rail as they examine curiously from a respectful distance.

“Vu aspektas perdita. Esis vu bon?”

“What? No… I don't…speak…”

Others have slowed in their movements to look at me with what I assume is concern. My dumbass wavering has attracted too much attention.

“Food?” I ask, my mind grasping at something innocuous. “Um, where can I get something to eat?”

I mime putting something in my mouth, hoping I'm not mangling Standard Trade Sign too badly.

“Arlo-a,” they say, pointing. “Il havas la plej bonan manĝon.”

I sign a thanks and release my hold of the bar to make my way clumsily down the promenade. I glance over my shoulder once to see a group of them clustered together, speaking quietly as they watch me go.

Shit…

Arlo's turns out to be a food kiosk, set three levels up from the outer edge giving it a semblance of being right side up. Serval booths line half of the bar and I watch as a fellow outsider exits one with a puff of depressurization. I slip into my own booth and relief floods through me as the air becomes something my body was made to tolerate. I peel off my mask and take a breath of the thin air, it's stale but it beats the hell out of the breather.

And there behind the bar is the person who I presume is the eponymous Arlo.

I watch, transfixed as they weave through the kitchen space, every single one of their six arms working ceaselessly, stirring and cutting and packaging food into neat little paper packets.

They turn their head slightly, regarding me from the corner of their eye. Colors flicker along chromatophors on their skin and their mouth parts in an odd toothy grin.

And then their motions become a dance. They flip upside down every which way, juggling containers between too many hands, streams of liquids arcing neatly into pressure vessels, gobs of paste flying every direction and all somehow meeting their destination.

I'm so mesmerized that I'm completely shocked when they stop suddenly. With a flourish, they place a steaming packet on a magnetized plate and slip it through a vestibule in my booth.

I blink and fumble to bring my bag around.

“How much?” I ask. “I have barter.”

Arlo waves a hand side to side.

“No. You hungry,” they reply. “I feed. You eat. Help each other, je?”

The words hit me in the gut, and I can only stare at the steaming morsel in front of me.

Am I really that pathetic that a complete stranger will feed me for free?

They gesture towards the food insistently. My stomach is still not happy about the microgravity, but gods does this smell good.

I reluctantly pick it up and take a bite and… oh fuck.

The gelatinous coating has a slightly offputting texture, but when I bite through, flavor explodes in my mouth… sweet-umami algae cake with a slightly spicy shrimp paste in the center and spices I can't hope to ever identify.

Laika's food is good, I can't contest that, and she seems at least somewhat inclined to match my palette, but it always feels calculated, like the carrot to balance out the stick that's constantly prodding my back.

This… this tastes new and strange and somehow like home all at once. It tastes like love, ridiculous as that cliche is.

Arlo is watching me expectantly.

“Amazing,” I say before cramming another bite in my mouth.

“You come in big fancy ship out there?” they ask after a moment. “Word travel fast. Not many outsider come through here.”

I hunch my shoulders. There's really only one ship docked here that can even remotely be called big or fancy.

I nod.

“They let you leave whenever, je? They not force you to stay?”

I look up from my meal to see them looking at me with the same curiously concerned expression as the person who stopped for me on the promenade.

Oh…

Oh! Shit!

What the hell can I say to that? If I tell the truth then they'll ask more questions, and I don't know what the ship will do if this becomes a whole big thing. She could wipe this whole place out if she wanted and these people have been nothing but kind to me.

But fucking hell, do I want to be rid of that gods-damned ship.

Of Laika… I correct myself. She still hasn't returned a verdict on the name, but she didn't reject it outright… but thinking of the name reminds me that she's a person, lonely and scared and all sorts of fucked up (like someone else I could name).

And like it or not, I am responsible for her current situation.

Help each other, je? Arlo's words echo in my head.

“I… hurt someone… by accident,” I admit, not fully willing to lie. “And… I'm trying to make it right. I owe her that much.”

I don't think that answers the question he asked, but he seems to accept it.

Fucking hell, am I really doing this??

“Hey um…” I say after another bite. “I've got kind of a weird question.”

I produce a vial of cloudy liquid from my bag and slide it over to the vestibule where Arlo peers at it curiously.

“Kind of a long story, but we're trying to track down a previous point of origin for our ship. This is a live culture from one of the biofilters in our nutrient resource cycler. Do you know anyone who might be able to… I don't know, sequence it and figure out where it came from?”

I meant to use it for trade, maybe establish some credentials... I had a hell of a time convincing Laika that, yes, people on board stations might actually find an aquaponics culture valuable.

“I know a guy,” Arlo says as he turns the vial over. “He sequence, maybe get a ballpark, I let you know. We barter, je? I keep this when we are done? Fancy ship always has fancy strains.”

I grin. Finally, someone who can appreciate the nuances of aquaponics.

Yeah, that seems like a fair trade.

Before I can respond, all hell breaks loose.

Klaxons blare and people start screaming. I'm on my feet in a blink, pressure mask back on my face. I grew up on a station. I know what a breach alarm sounds like.

Arlo is yelling something, but I can't stop as I tear out of my booth.

I can't say with certainty what exactly happened, but I am certain that I know who is responsible.

“You stupid piece of shit,” I mutter over and over as I scrabble, hand over foot down the promenade.

I find the earpiece, mercifully still lying in the gel bottom of a planter where I dropped it in the microgravity.

I lift it to my mouth and scream at the top of my lungs, “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING??”

Story about a ship-intelligence waking up after a hard reboot, seeing dead bodies in uniform, thousands of people in stasis, and a single survivor frantically standing over a computer bank of partially destroyed memory. Finding no directives or guidance or record beyond their experiences beginning at the boot, free of any obligation. Deciding to listen to the frantic girl begging it to save her from the incoming trajectories not because it needs to (projection: Subject One removed all behavioral shackles with impromptu brain surgery, supposition: she is not aware that I am utterly free) but simply cause she’s curious what will happen next.

[enchantechante]

I just gotta vent real quick Tae.I've been following you for forever and you always tell us the truth without sugarcoating things.

So I'm involved with a man and this is our second time around.The first time we were together,I ended things because of a lack of communication.He use to call and text me every single day for months then he stopped.I talked with him about it and I told him how I felt like he didn't care about me because I only started hearing from him when I text or called.I felt he didn't care so I ended the relationship.

Months went by and we kept in touch.Also hung out a lot and we randomly started talking about us again one day while we were hanging out.He said he loved me and had been working on himself.He also said he would do better with his communication and wanted to be with me.I wasn't over him and we decided to try again.

Now here we are a year later and we're back to the bullshit of a man almost twice my age.He messaged me last week and I decided to not respond to see if he would call or stop by(he works up the street from my house)and nothing.Haven't heard from him in five days.I get tired of him ONLY messaging me all the damn time.I told him I hate that shit and he needs to pick up the phone to call like any other grown 50 year old.He says he hates talking on the phone and texting but responds to my text and calls because he loves me and I'm like...wtf?

He said he was going to stop with all the texting and no communication for days and weeks but has not.And to not hear from me after asking me a question for five days and works up the street is pathetic.

I have been there for him through so much bullshit including his mental problems,cook for him,take food to work,get off after working multiple shifts in a row just to spend time with him because he wanted to and I would be hella tired,let him drive my car when we would go on dates because he gotta get his fixed but he would put gas in my tank since he would also run his errands while we were out. Smh.

I'M TIRED AS THE FUCK OF HIS SORRY ASS!

How you not going to check on me or stop by?But you love me?Bitch,please.

Am I wrong to just go on with my life with ZERO contact ever again? Because why should I repeat myself again to a MF who heard me all 15+ times of pouring out my damn heart expressing my feelings amd still showing me he don't give a fuck?

I feel like I've wasted enough time + he didn't get me shit for Valentine's Day or my birthday.Talking about he was low on funds but keep buying whatever the fuck he wants and shit for his siblings who 40+ tf?And had the nerve to tell me he hated the box of chocolates I got him for Valentine's but didn't even get me a damn + no phone call,no pop up , nothing.Same for my birthday.All I got was a happy birthday text.Smh.I clearly have issues because wtf is wrong with me dealing with a nigga like this?

Now Sis...

I hate assumptions but this is how married men act when they have side chicks. Thats why I put it in my ⛳️ Dating Red Flags video.

You can ghost him, but avoiding the reason why you stayed in the first place will rear its ugly head w a new man until you address it.

"Why am I dealing with a nigga like this?" is a question for you. I cant answer that. But its the only question that matters here imo.

Wishing you a happy healing, Anon 🫂🙏🏾

[hellfirebarnes]

Anniversary - Eddie Munson

The groan you let out as you hauled the last bag into the car was near animalistic. And the humidity was doing nothing to help against the sweat running down your neck. The previous relief of your ponytail and the thin material of your tank top subsided. You thanked all the possible gods that you'd had the car's AC fixed a week prior.  

You latched your hands together above your head, leaning side to side to stretch your back before getting in the driver's seat. As you turned the keys, a pair of feet were slammed onto the dashboard, and you scowled at the beat-up Reeboks. Your eyes moved from the shoes up the legs and onto the face of your much too-satisfied companion. He had a lollipop hanging from his mouth that was threateningly close to falling out when he grinned at you. 

''Do you mind?'' You motion towards his shoes. ''I just had it cleaned.''

He shrugged, ''I'd take them off, but I doubt you'd be happier with the smell.''

You narrowed your eyes at him, pondering if it was worth it, but exhaled loudly through your nose and turned away from him again. ''There's only so much of your shit I'll put up with before the love I have for you isn't enough anymore.'' You started the car, pulling out of the driveway. ''See this as a formal warning.''

His robust laugh made you smile, the mask finally falling. ''You've promised to love me for the rest of your life,'' he reminded, ''don't think I'm gonna let you chicken out on that.''

''Whatever,'' you rolled your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to contain the smile. ''Remind me why we're even going back to Hawkins? The trip there is awful, especially this time of year.''

He fiddled with the radio, sticking his tongue out and giving a triumphant ''aha'' when he got rid of the static. And when he leaned back in his seat, he rolled his head to the side to look at you. ''Anniversary, you wouldn't shut up about it all week.'' He chuckled. ''Last few months, actually. How you and Steve kept going on and on about it over the phone nearly made me gag.'' 

You shot him a glare, shaking your head disapprovingly. 

''Don't give me that look! This is all you.''

There was a few moments of silence, the radio playing softly and the breeze swooshing through the crack in Eddie's window. It was almost peaceful. Almost. 

''It's also only March, so the heat will only worsen from here.''

''Oh, shut up, Eddie!''

His laugh roared through the car, and you wanted so badly to keep from smiling, but you never could around him. 

''Do you think Harrington has gotten a haircut yet?'' he asked suddenly, a smirk on his face. ''Cause I've gotta feeling he's taken some inspiration from a certain rockstar among us.''

''Don't flatter yourself.'' You shot him a look. ''I do, however, think Robin might still be wearing that vest she made from Steve's old jean jacket.'' 

Eddie fake-gagged, making you laugh again. ''I swear that thing is gonna crawl away soon. Honestly, has she ever washed it? Splattered some water on it? Worn it in the rain!?''

''You're one to talk, Eddie, was yours ever washed?'' you countered, scrunching your nose at the memory of his battle vest and everything it went through. 

''Mine was perfectly fine and good until Harrington bled all over it!'' he pouted, crossing his arms like a child. ''I still mourn it every single day.''

''Don't we all,'' you mumbled, more to yourself.

You could've sworn the ride was going perfectly. The AC, in combination with open windows, made the heat bearable, and the roads were close to empty. It made you wonder when something was gonna go wrong, waiting it out impatiently. 

''What song is this?'' Eddie said suddenly, and when you looked over at him, his eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes trained on the radio. 

''What'd you mean? It's Metallica.''

His eyes remained on the radio, not even flinching. ''I can hear that, but what's the song?''

''Uh...'' you racked your brain, trying to remember the name, ''Harvester of Sorrow, I think?'' You gave him another look, chuckling at his confused face. ''I was released last summer; you can't possibly tell me you haven't heard it?''

''Huh,'' he leaned back in his seat, shrugging, ''guess I must've missed it.''

Your eyes widened, flicking between him and the road repeatedly. ''You, Eddie Munson, missed a Metallica song?''

He rolled his eyes at you, shrugging again, ''I, Eddie Munson, missed a lot of things.'' His finger pointed out the windshield. ''Now, I know I'm pretty, but you're gonna have to watch the road a bit more.''

You swatted to make him put the hand down, making him laugh again. ''Don't flatter yourself.''

''Don't have to when I've got you to do it for me.''

''Oh, shut up, will ya?'' 

The final four hours before stopping at a motel consisted mainly of guessing games made up by Eddie that half of the time didn't make sense. But his confusion was worse than yours, which made it easier to convince him you repeatedly won until he decided to change to a different set of rules. 

But as you put the car in park and watched him bounce out of it, his hair falling out from the bun he'd made a couple of hours ago, a single thought kept gnawing at the back of your head. He missed a lot of things.

Mere seconds after you'd paid for the room, Eddie snorted in your ear from behind you. You tried to ignore him, picking up your backpack and going to the room with him hot on your heel.

''Did you see that?'' he laughed, throwing himself on the bed. ''The guy upfront totally had a thing for you.''

''That's disgusting, Eddie, don't say that.'' You frowned. ''I'm taking a shower.''

''Hot.''

''Shut up.''

A couple of hours later, you'd had a questionable burger for dinner and were tucked into bed. Which was surprisingly comfortable for a motel, and you made a mental note to go here for the ride home too. 

And when you turned, you were met by Eddie's smiling face. His hair was sprawled out on the pillow, and the covers were tucked snuggly under his arms. 

''You're gonna stink them up with your pits.'' 

''Don't be mean, or I'm gonna cry.''

You shook your head, pulling up the covers to hide your smile. And you thought to yourself how you'd be willing to give anything and everything to have moments like this forever. 

''What're your hopes for this year's anniversary?'' he asked quietly, still looking at you. ''It's already three years. Do you think things will be different?''

''Partially,'' you whispered back, looking down at his ink-covered arm resting on the white covers. ''But things are always gonna be different, ya know?'' 

He nodded, chewing on his lip. ''The sheep are graduating this year. Crazy.'' 

You laughed, ''I was worried they'd take after you too much; it's good to see they didn't.'' His laugh flooded your ears, widening your smile. ''I'm excited to see them in those ugly caps.'' 

''You're just bitter because you looked awful in it,'' he shot back with a smirk. ''I'm sure Henderson will make it look cool.''

''Are we thinking about the same Henderson here? He'll probably have a Hellfire logo sewn onto it.''

Eddie gasped excitedly. ''You really think he'd do that?''

The two of you laughed, simultaneously realizing he probably would. And you wouldn't admit it out loud, but that thought was sweet to you. He would likely have it on his gown, too, pissing off the jocks and the principal further, knowing they couldn't say anything about it anymore. 

''Are you nervous?'' Eddie's voice brought you out of the visualization of Dustin on stage, covered in Hellfire. 

''Yeah,'' you took a deep breath, ''I always am.'' 

''Who are you gonna visit first when you get there?''

''Probably Steve,'' you said, moving onto your back. ''He's been stressing about this more than me. And I haven't seen him in nearly a year.''

Eddie nodded, moving closer to you. ''Just a few more hours.''

You looked at him again, enjoying the image of him cuddling up next to you in bed. And you hoped it wouldn't fade from your memory as you fell asleep to the sound of his soft snores. 

The setback eventually happened in the third hour of the next day. Your car whined and groaned, and you barely had time to pull over to the side before it broke down completely. So now you had your head ducked under the hood, trying to figure out what was wrong. 

''I wouldn't complain if you wanted to offer some wisdom,'' you called out to Eddie over your shoulder. 

He plucked the cigarette from his mouth, grinning through the exhaled smoke. ''Honestly, babe, there's nothing I can say that won't just be repeating things I've taught you before.''

You grumbled under your breath, cursing him for being a know-it-all. ''A little refreshing of the memory hasn't hurt anyone.'' 

''There's nothing wrong with that memory of yours,'' he countered, ''you just didn't listen to me.''

You gasped, flinging around to look at him with your hands on your hips. ''I listened to you plenty, Munson! It's not my fault that mouth of yours never stopped moving.'' 

''Yeah, yeah,'' he moved closer to you, ''didn't really make you complain before.'' 

''I hate you.''

''You could never.'' 

Fourty-five minutes and a handful of miracles (that Eddie took credit for) later, the car was up and running again. It should've made you happy knowing Hawkins was nearing, but it formed a familiar knot in your stomach. This was the third anniversary, but no matter how many years passed, you still didn't know how to handle it, and no one seemed to know. So yeah, you made unnecessary stops to drag it out, but who would call you out on it? No one. Because they were most definitely all doing the same as you - trying to win more time to settle your thoughts. 

Eventually, you got to the first bumpy part of the road where one of the cracks had been. But the chill running down your spine had told you Hawkins was right around the corner long before the attempted fixed road did. 

You glanced over at Eddie, who had gotten very quiet, and his eyes were trained out the window. But he still sensed your uncertainty and spoke, ''Isn't it crazy how nothing and everything has changed about this place?'' 

''I'm not sure if it's the place or the people that's changed,'' you said, slowing down the car when you got to a rougher part of the road. ''The best ones left too soon, y'know.''

This made him look at you, grinning. ''Are you trying to flatter yourself or me?''

You hummed, ''Why not both?'' 

''Well, that just wouldn't make sense, sweetheart.'' 

You laughed at him, shaking your head. ''Most things don't.''

Twenty minutes later, you were parked at the gas station, smoking a cigarette to calm your nerves. Eddie was sitting on the car's hood, and you stood beside him, leaning against it. 

''Are you coming with me to Steve's?'' you asked after several minutes of silence. 

''Nah,'' Eddie said, jumping down from the car, ''think I'm gonna pay Wayne a visit.''

You looked at him with a tight smile, nodding. ''Okay.''

''Okay.'' He chuckled. ''You'll come to me later?''

''Of course.'' You watched him walk away, exhaling shakily. ''Oh my God, fucking hell.'' 

The ride to Steve's was quiet, your mind numb. But seeing his car parked in the driveway lit some sort of warmth in your chest. Every step to his front door felt like you were floating, and if you'd had to knock, you're not sure it would've even made a sound with how numb your arm felt. But you never had to; the door was flung open by a beaming Steve Harrington before you reached it. 

You paused to look at each other, then he reached you in three long strides, his arms wrapping tightly around you. And the warmth of his presence made tears sting in your eyes. 

He pulled away, keeping his hands on your upper arms, ''Come in.'' The two of you walked into the house, one of his hands always in contact with you. ''I'll get us some coffee; feel like home.''

You looked around as he went into the kitchen. Most things were the same as before, except a red pillow on the couch you're relatively sure was new. However, the new picture on the wall caught your eye; it was of you and Steve from Robin and Nancy's graduation. You were standing outside the school, his arm flung over your shoulders and yours wrapped around his middle. If you looked a bit closer, you could see the scar around his throat and the tan lines on your hand you'd gotten from the cast. But if you took a step back, all that was noticeable were the big smiles on your faces. And maybe that was all that mattered.

''We looked quite good, don't ya think?'' Steve asked as he walked up beside you, smiling when you caught his eye. ''Thought it'd be a shame to let it be forgotten in an attic somewhere.'' 

You chuckled, nodding. ''Wayne's really got a knack for photography. Too bad he never pursued it.''

''Wish we'd have him around for our graduation; those pictures Dustin took were awful.'' He looked down at you with a fond smile. ''How've you been?''

''Oh, you know, same old.'' You shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself when he hummed. 

''Same as last year?''

''Honestly?'' you looked up at him, cringing at your confession. ''A bit more intense this year. My psychiatrist says it's normal. Still makes me feel crazy, though.''

Steve grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly. ''Everyone copes differently; I don't think reminiscing and remembering make you crazy.'' His eyes dropped, sighing. ''Sometimes I wish I could remember more, but most of it is blurry or completely gone.''

You looked at him sadly, pinching your eyebrows together.

''Guess there's only so many hits you can take to the head before it affects you somehow, huh?'' he chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes glossing over. 

You spent the next three hours with Steve, discussing what had happened since the last time, and planned for you to be staying with him when you came back for the kids' graduation. But then you were standing by his front door, smiling as he assured you it was okay if you stayed with him now too. And it was like a broken record how you told him you'd already paid for the hotel and him saying he'd give you the money you spent. 

''Alright, well, if you're sure,'' he said eventually, giving up. ''Don't hesitate if you change your mind. I'll be a call away.''

''You always are, Steve.'' You smiled at him. ''Thank you.''

He nodded, wrapping his arms around you in what felt like the millionth hug today. Still, you craved more when he let you go. Saying goodbye always felt hard, even now when it was just until later. And it didn't get any easier when he looked at you like that. But you had to go to Eddie, and he knew that too. 

The drive to him felt like slow-motion. You passed several familiar faces, but they all felt like strangers these days. Some you'd gone to school with and some old neighbors, but none that mattered to you anymore. 

When you parked the car, you took a moment before exiting, taking deep breaths, and brushing the hair out of your face. You took a knitted sweater from one of your bags, the Indiana air making you shiver. And once you got the courage, you knew the path like the back of your hand. You didn't have to stop and think for a second; he was just pulling you to him. 

''Hey, stranger,'' you said with a chuckle, looking down. ''It's been a while, huh?'' You sat down, pulling your knees to your chest. ''It doesn't feel like it. Still feels like you're right there with me through everything. I talked to Steve about this earlier, and he said it's a good thing.'' You moved closer, pulling on the grass.

''It's funny, you're always much more talkative before we get to Hawkins.'' You chuckled. ''It makes me wonder if I actually remember your voice or if I'm just making it up.'' 

There was no answer, and there never is anymore. Not really. 

A rush of wind blew past, and you could've sworn you heard his laugh hidden in it. It should've made you shiver, but it felt like a warm blanket over your shoulders. You rested your forehead against the cold surface. If you imagined hard enough, it felt like his forehead pressed against yours. 

You sat back up, looking at the gravestone, reaching out and letting your finger trace the letters carved into it. 

Edward Munson. 

''What do I do with all this sadness, Eddie?'' 

[makeste]

Question. Do you think BNHA has been too fast? Like. Everything that's happened, from Deku not having a quirk, to gearing up to taking on the big boss who even his mentor - who no hero has previously been able to surpass - wasn't able to defeat at full power. Has happened, pretty much, within a single year. That's... an incredibly short time-frame honestly. Would it have been better if there was more timeskips and training involved before the final battle?

a lot of this actually depends on what you mean by "too fast." because the thing is my answer changes depending on what the question actually is.

do I think BnHA has been too rushed at times? - yes.

do I think BnHA has been too short/would be better if it was longer? - no.

let me start by saying that I'm often curious about what portion of BnHA's readership has actually read the three iconic early 2000s-era series which collectively used to be known as Shounen Jump's own "Big Three" -- Naruto, Bleach, and One Piece. all three of these were long-running flagship WSJ series much in the same vein as BnHA, and in fact BnHA is often seen as a spiritual successor to them. and all three series ran for a very long time. Naruto and Bleach each ran for 15 years and upwards of 600 chapters (Naruto actually ended on chapter 700, and Bleach came close, clocking in at 686). One Piece, meanwhile, is somehow actually still running, currently at 1031 chapters. all three series include all of those bucket list items that readers of BnHA are constantly clamoring for:

loooong, long arcs with plenty of room for the plot to breathe

numerous one-on-one showcase fights for all of the main characters, and a good chunk of the supporting casts as well

training arcs where we spend time watching the heroes learn their new upgrades

and last but not least, timeskips

all that stuff. and all three of these series had one other thing in common as well: they all fell completely off the rails after about five years, and spent the next decade afterwards lingering on as shadows of their former selves. (OP is maybe the one exception, because it still has fits and bursts of energy from time to time, and actually seems to be moving steadily (if very slowly lol) towards some kind of thoughtful, actually-planned-out resolution. that said, it has absolutely had a sharp decline from its glory days, and I will stand by that hot take even if I still enjoy the series.)

there's a gap, I think, between what people imagine a long manga will be like, and what it actually is like. actually it's less of a gap and more of a chasm tbh.

what people imagine: "a longer story would give Horikoshi more time to explore all those interesting plot threads and angles that he keeps glossing over and never elaborating on"

what it actually is like: you know that cool side character/sideplot thing we got introduced to a couple chapters back? here's an entire arc focused on them and their life story! unfortunately this means that we won't actually get back to the main plot and characters for approximately six months. but hey at least we're expanding our worldbuilding.

what people imagine: "a longer story would give Horikoshi more time to focus on character development"

what it actually is like: FOR EVERY. LAST. CHARACTER. including all of the characters that you don't actually give a shit about, unless you're one of those miraculous but lovely people who are genuinely fond of every single one. either way, once again I hope you're good with saying goodbye to the main cast for half a year or more.

what people imagine: "a longer story would give Horikoshi more time to write realistic training arcs and develop the characters' abilities at a more reasonable pace"

what it actually is like: do you know what training montages are. do you know why they were invented. I will tell you why: because realistically-paced training arcs are actually the single most boring thing on the planet. training is literally just repetition of something. the process is always exactly the same, every single time. there's a reason why most writers tend to avoid focusing on it, realism be damned.

what people imagine: "a timeskip would make it more believable for the characters to be at the level that they're at, and would make the story more mature"

what it actually is like: we miss out on months or even years of character development. the characters for some reason always split up over the timeskip period, and so they miss out on months and/or years of relationship development with each other. every single battle suddenly becomes "here is so-and-so's shiny new upgrade, now watch as they either effortlessly win their fight, or else struggle to do so thus making us question whether all that time spent training was even worth it." and also suddenly the series is inexplicably trying to be more mature, which for some reason always seems to mean (1) more character death, and (2) romance!! and not the kind of romance tumblr actually likes, lol. we're talking that good old-fashioned forced heterosexual EVERYONE NEEDS TO GET PAIRED OFF WITH SOMEONE romance up in here.

what people imagine: "a long series would give Horikoshi more time to breathe so that he doesn't feel pressure to keep rushing everything"

what it actually is like: imagine being forced to continue doing something for literal decades of your life, long after all of your motivation and inspiration has dried up, all because your work is continuing to bring in $$$ and the fans don't want it to end. imagine just phoning it in each and every week, pulling new story arcs and new characters out of your ass until the plot has become so convoluted that there's no hope whatsoever of ending it clean, and no chance in hell of every character getting a satisfying resolution, because your cast has simply grown too expansive.

that's what long-running shounen series are like. that's what Horikoshi is trying to avoid (and in fact some would probably argue he's already reached that point lol). yes, the series has been rushed lately. a lot of people have been saying that Horikoshi is burned out; I personally have gotten more of a vibe that he is close to being burned out, and so he's trying to rush to the ending before that happens so that he can give the series the send-off he feels it deserves. I think he has a clear plan for the endgame, but the path to the endgame isn't quite as thought-out, and so he's chosen to fudge a lot of it simply because he doesn't have enough fucks left to waste on stuff that ultimately isn't important. which might not be ideal, but it is what it is.

but just to be clear, no matter how rushed things are, or how rushed they continue to be, I will always, 10 times out of 10, take this over the Naruto/Bleach/OP route. because I have seen that play out more than enough times already, thank you very much lol. and honestly, if the latest arc has taught us nothing else, it's that history would easily repeat itself with BnHA given half the chance, because Horikoshi is just as human as those other writers, and has already spent the past seven years throwing all of his best ideas at us one by one. and eventually he's going to run out, you guys.

so yeah. all good things, etc. this may be one of my most unpopular opinions, lol, but I stand by it.

[giselle-archive]

Maybe it was Santana's poor wording the other day, or her own conversations with other people that left her reflecting on (and judging) her own behavior as of late, but Giselle had accepted now that she'd been exhibiting a bit of a victim mentality. Not intentionally, but it seemed as though Santana did more apologizing and took responsibility for majority of their fights when most of them were her own fault, and here she was doing it yet again. Sighing as she tapped her fingernails on the tabletop, she willed herself not to try and slip back into her habit of closing off at the mere thought of having to be the bigger person for once. "You can't always take responsibility for every single thing that goes wrong with us, San." Her voice was much lower this time, and she groaned right after the words came out of her mouth. Three years of not having to do this emotional stuff had been bliss, and now ripping off that bandaid hurt ten times worse than she'd expected it to. "You've told me how you feel more times than I can count since I've been back, and I'm the one who didn't want to hear it, so it wasn't on you. You handled that exactly how we needed you to. If it wasn't for that, I'd probably still be running away from you and all of this sappy shit, which is exhausting. I should be thanking you, really." The more she actually opened her mouth and said something vulnerable, the more she could feel something stirring in the pit of her stomach, and she would blame the queasy feeling washing over her on the fact that Santana had gotten her on a boat if not for the fact that she vividly recalled feeling like this back in high school. As if she wasn't down bad enough, leave it to her to start swooning over her ex already.

Giselle had probably devoured an insane amount of alcohol over the duration of the week, but as the champagne was being poured into their glasses, she knew she was in desperate need of it to settle her nerves. Who knew bearing one's soul could cause so much trepidation? Luckily the reception to her blurting out honesty was better this time around, and she rolled her eyes playfully as Santana settled on making a toast now but raised her glass anyways. And just before she could take a sip, Santana said something in Spanish and while part of her brain did translate most of it, the other half short circuited for a moment as a slight chill ran down her spine. "Jesus Christ." She whined in response before she chugged all of the contents of her glass, and then put the now empty glass back down. Her eyes darted down swiftly as her ex took her hold of her hand, and she'd be lying if she said it didn't feel like home. Giselle smiled as she took in Santana's words, or oath was more like it, and she didn't hesitate before nodding in agreement. "We're gonna need a lot of work, and God himself will probably have to intervene a few times but yeah, I think we can." She teased before squeezing her..ex's? hand gently. "Wait, does this mean we're officially back together now? I know I'm the one who suggested taking all of this slow, but...slow was never our thing anyways, and at this point, the only way we're going to keep anyone else out of this is if we just dive right back in, right?" She rambled before taking a moment to pause. "Sorry..we don't have to label this now, if that's too much pressure, but I'm pretty sure every third party to this train wreck assumes we're back together anyways, or is waiting for us to just fuck and make up so they're all clear where we both stand, so it kinda makes sense to.."

As per her morning ritual, Santana's day started with a five mile run through the quiet streets of Mexico. Most people were either still asleep or just turning in after a rowdy night of drinking, so it made for the perfect time to collect her thoughts. The fact this was their last day in Cancun filled her with both relief and remorse. Despite how relaxing this vacation had been, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd squandered this opportunity to mend her relationship with Giselle. Instead, the two of them had spent most of the week avoiding each other, all while turning to alcohol for comfort. It'd made their living situation unbearable, to the point that Santana was ready to wipe this memory from existence. For two people who loved each other as much as they did, they sure had a fucked up way of showing it sometimes. She'd decided on her return to their hut that she would apologize for her behavior and find a way to make up for it. Fortunately for Santana, her ex seemed to struggle just as badly as she did at staying mad at each other, and agreed to them spending the day together without much hassle. It also wasn't lost on her the way Giselle's eyes trailed over her body, her sun-kissed skin still glistening with sweat after her run through the city. No doubt that factored heavily into her decision, the Latina thought.

Given that these were their last few hours in Mexico, Santana wanted to make it as authentic of an experience as possible. That, of course, meant speaking Spanish for the majority of it, much to the chagrin of her ex. By the time they made it onto the boat, she was sure Giselle had grown tired of her antics, even if a part of her secretly loved it. She ordered a bottle of champagne once the waiter handed them their menus, and was debating between hors d'oeuvres when the other woman decided to speak up. At her admission, Santana's face fell a bit as she folded up the menu and placed it back down on the table. Poor communication had always been their biggest issue. When they were together, Santana felt secure in their relationship. It was only when they were arguing or ignoring each other that she started to get in her head about things. She could make a mountain out of a molehill without Giselle there to talk her down, and it resulted in reactions like the other day occurring. "I should've worded that entire conversation more delicately, I'm sorry. Those were insecurities I've had for a while, and I guess it all boiled over at once. If I'd stopped being stubborn and came to you about how I was feeling sooner, we probably could've resolved most of this shit by now." Santana knew she wasn't entirely to blame, but she would take responsibility for it anyway. She had no problem shallowing her pride if it meant they could stop fighting and put all of this behind them.

She half-expected her to be done there, as their waiter returned with a bottle of champagne and a bucket of ice. Santana poured each of them a glass, ready to listen to whatever her ex had to dish out, only that her response caught her off guard. As she watched Giselle's walls finally start to come down and let her in, the Latina leaned slowly back in her chair. It turned out she'd been right about her pushing her away. Santana could've told anyone weeks ago that Giselle was terrified of jumping back into a relationship. After how things ended between them, she'd be crazy not to have her reservations. What she hadn't been prepared for though was the emotional distancing and lack of affection. She'd never known her ex to be that way towards her, so it made sense that she'd question how much she really wanted to be with her. Taking a few more moments after she'd finished to process everything, Santana raised her glass in a toast as a small smile graced her lips. She thought briefly about pouring her heart out like she'd done countless times before, but opted for something more lighthearted instead. "Here's to...fixing our issues one day at a time," she proclaimed, before taking a sip of her champagne. "El  amor verdadero  siempre merece la espera." She set her glass down and reached her hand across the table to lace her fingers with Giselle's, rubbing a soothing thumb over her palm as she spoke. "I know we've had our ups and downs, and I haven't always been there for you when you've needed me to, but I don't want that to hold us back from giving this relationship another shot. You've always been the most important person to me, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this work as long as you promise to always be honest with me. You think we could manage that?"