#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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[mayfieldss]

The whole facade - JJ Maybank

chapter two

chapter one here

synopsis: when JJ becomes your fake boyfriend in an attempt to get Rafe to leave you alone, trouble follows suit, and the term friends begins to blur.

series warnings: fake dating, fem!reader, language, mentions of harassment, (no means NO, remember that folks), minor violence, gun use, underage drinking and drug consumption.

For the most part, it all goes okay. Everyone was nice, and the story you and JJ curated seemed to mend well with all the questions asked. With JJ's arm over your shoulder, and your body leaned into his, you felt as though you were convincing enough.

"Great job, princess." JJ's words are whispered close to your ear as you head to leave, and they leave you almost speechless. Almost.

"Do you not think this is at all a bad idea?" It's still plaguing you, the lies, but you have to admit, there's a thrill in it too.

"Bad ideas can bring good fortune. We're gonna get Rafe to leave you alone for good. We just have to figure out how." He's walking backward in front of you now, unbothered by not being able to see where he's going in favor of facing you as he speaks. "You just gotta trust me. Good old JJ Maybank, mastermind."

"How long are we going to have to do this—lie to everyone?" You feel bad already and it's only the first day. Did that make you weak?

"You can't think about it that way. Look, if it helps—" Before JJ can finish, he's on the ground, having stumbled over a too-big tree root.

"Yeah, that does help, actually." It's hard not to laugh as you help him up, and as he brushes himself off his heart alights at the way you smile.

"You like hurting me don't you?"

"I never did anything to hurt you, JJ. You brought that on yourself." You feign defense, knowing you don't really need it as JJ decides to watch where he's going.

"So, how long has Rafe been bothering you?" He wanted to ask the question properly the night of the bonfire, but never really got an answer when he tried. He's hoping now he can hear more. Instantly, JJ regrets the question as your body language changes. You stiffen, shoulders shifting upward as if you protect yourself while you walk.

"Too long."

He wants you to say more. You know he does. So you try.

"Catcalling is one thing, but he just never stops. He gets too close, you know, practically breathing on me as he whispers this disgusting shit." It makes your skin crawl just to think about it. Something every woman has to worry about every time they leave the house.

"He ever laid a hand on you?" JJ can feel his anger rising up, though he tries to press it back down. He doesn't need it right now, and you certainly don't.

"Only little things, a hand on my back, shoulder, my leg. I try not to get too close to him." An involuntary shiver runs through you, and JJ decides to stop with the questions. He knows what it's like to not want to answer something so personal. Something you don't want to think about.

"I'll sort it out. We'll find a way. I promise." JJ isn't sure that promise is one he can entirely keep, but he wants to, and he'll try. The Cameron's always had a knack for being invincible, and sadly, that never worked out for the pogues. But you smile at the gesture, the words he's not sure he can stick to.

"You're one of the good ones, jay," the nickname used more often by his friends startles him when it comes from your lips. He likes the sound of it though, and wants you to say it again.

"Party on the beach tonight, pogues only. What d'you say we go together, put on a show?" JJ stands on your doorstep, a single flower, a small daisy, in hand. He's trying his best to be the greatest fake boyfriend ever, just like he promised.

"If by put on a show you mean hold hands in front of everyone and hope they notice, then sure." You're trying and failing to tug on your shoes as you hobble outside, and the sound of JJ's quiet laughs can be heard beside you as you do.

"You know, if you undid the laces, you might make some progress."

"Don't talk to me about laces, Maybank. I know you do the same thing." You stomp the shoe aggressively onto your foot before righting yourself.

"Oh, pulling out the last name. I see how it is. I'm in the doghouse, am I?"

You shove yourself into JJ as you walk, knocking him to the side, and he does the same back to you but not as hard. He doesn't want you to fall. He doesn't mind if he falls because of you though. He's done it once already.

"Alright, let's talk strategy." He looks to you for ideas, but you give him none.

"We just show up, hold hands, spread the word. What more is there to do?"

JJ thinks that over, brows furrowed, and then nods. "Good strategy sarge, you're really getting the hang of this."

"Rafe won't be there, though, right?" The light mood of the morning seems to leave for a moment when you say the boys name. A sharp word on your tongue.

"He shouldn't be. Pogues only, remember?" JJ wants to place a hand on your shoulder, but remembers too well what you said a few days ago. So he doesn't. He won't.

"Kooks love to crash Pogue parties, but I'll take your word for it." You send him a smile. A real one, and it fixes everything.

JJ doesn't know what to say. You'd got ready for the party at Kie's with Sarah, but JJ hadn't expected this. It was a simple party, nothing special, but for some reason, JJ was stuck on his words as if he'd never been able to speak in the first place.

"Hey," he feels stupid saying it, but it's all he can say.

"Hey." You parrot back to him, a laugh ready and loaded for any moment from now. He can hear it in the one word, and he wants it to slip.

"You look good." Another three words, slowly he's coming back to himself, gaining his composure.

"I look the same as I did this morning, JJ." You take his hand to keep up appearances with the others around you, and you know JJ's friends, now to be called your friends too, are watching.

"You always look good." JJ mumbles back, and that is what does it. A heavy heat crawls up your neck, and you laugh softly, out of embarrassment, or something else you can't name.

Further back, the pouges are talking amongst themselves. Sarah leans into John B's side as they walk, and Pope is more than confused alongside Kie. "He's being... a gentleman." John B mutters in disbelief, and the others mumble in agreement of a similar feeling. They have no idea what's come over him, but they've never seen it quite this way before, and they're not sure what to do.

JJ is oblivious, and whilst you are more aware of their eyes, you don't have a clue what they’re saying.

"We should go for a swim when we're there." You say it to yourself mostly, thinking of the beach to which you're heading. You haven't had a midnight swim for a while, and as the summer heats up, it sounds like a more than decent idea.

"I'm down if you are, baby." He doesn't know where the nicknames come from, but they slip from him when he's not thinking. It's different, though, to how other guys say it. It sounds more comfortable, genuine, and sweet. There's nothing condescending about it, and you find it funny how a word can change so simply depending on the person you're with.

"Cool." You dare to spare a glance at him as you walk, but he's already looking at you. How long had he been looking at you like that before you noticed?

"Hey, can you guys slow down? We can barely keep up." It's Pope, shouting out from the group wandering behind you, and instantly, your pace slows. You like the group of them, and wish you'd become friends under different circumstances.

Once you make it to the twinkie, parked way too far from Kie's front door, the drive is short. You wish it had been longer, sitting all together in the vehicle with your newfound friends better than the upcoming party could have ever been. But you had to come to a stop eventually. It all had too.

It was loud, and the waves crashing could hardly be heard over the beating music and bustling bodies. People were everywhere, huddled on logs and dancing in groups or alone. They held cans of beer and other beverages, and red plastic solo cups that you hoped didn't make their way into the ocean after this. It was similar to all the other Pogue parties you'd seen, and people looked happy to be there, though that could have been in part, due to the alcoholic beverages on site.

"this is just as lame as i thought it would be." Pope mutters from behind you, and you slide back to his side to let him know you feel similarly.

"I don't see the fun in it either." You send him a smile but the moment is interrupted by JJ, moving back to be near you after realizing you'd vanished.

"You've never been to one of these with me, Princess. I'm the life of the party." his blonde hair is being whipped by the wind, making his curls more of a mess than the usual. Pope sighs beside you, patting you on the shoulder as if wishing you luck.

"He's only the life of the party until he's out cold." the boy has a tight hold of his cap, shirt flinging about with the wind in a similar fashion to JJ's hair. You laugh at his statement and JJ knocks his friend hard with his shoulder, attempting to shut him up.

"You can't be mad at me for telling her the truth!" Pope calls as Kiara drags him toward one of the kegs to get drinks. You watch them go, and your smile falters when you think about having to leave them when this is over. None of your regular friends had bothered to show up, or if they had they never invited you to come with them, and so without JJ and the others you were in the deep end. Having at least one of them by your side was a sort of comfort as the noise enveloped you.

"Okay, so, you can go about your regular party behavior's and I'll sit around and tell people we kiss and stuff." You whisper into JJ's ear. You have to stand on your tip toes to do it, and it takes JJ off guard.

He didn't know what he was expecting, but the sensation of your breath, your lips so close, wasn't it. Especially when the word 'kiss' was involved. As if on instinct, JJ's hand comes to rest on your back. He thinks of it as a reason to keep you close, so he can hear the things you're telling him, but perhaps it's not. You don't flinch away, and he's glad he hasn't over stepped. He hopes you'd let him know if he had.

"You're not gonna stick with me? I thought that was the plan?" He's watching you closely, listening carefully over the noise to catch your next words. As much as he wants to go and enjoy the party he made a deal with you, and he intends to try his best to stick to it.

"The plan was to hold hands a little and spread the word." you remind him, just in case he forgot the simplicity of it with how many adventures he'd taken in the past.

"So," JJ looks around at the crowds, thinking over the options. "You wanna hold hands now or later?" he says it half as a joke, but there's a genuineness to it too.

"Later, spread the word first. Confirm the word by the end of the night."

JJ smiles a little at the way you sound so serious, as if this is a battlefield and you plan to win the war. He supposes there is a war in your life just as there is in his, you're just fighting it differently to him. And he's helping you.

"Alright Boss, whatever you say." He salutes you, the kind of childish behavior his friends are used to by now. You're getting used to it too. You are JJ's friend after all.

"See you soon, Solider." You salute him back and have no idea what happens to JJ's heart when you do.

It gets dark fast, and small fires are lit on the beach as people continue their drunken stumbles and dancing. JJ is amongst them, messing about with John B in the waves, and you watch them from afar with Sarah by your side as they tackle each other in and out of the water. You'd spent the last few hours dropping subtle hints with the people you passed, and sliding them into conversations with those you knew to be gossip queens more than most. Now, you were relaxing, waiting for JJ, and for the end of the night.

"So," Sarah clears her throat, jostling the contents of the red solo cup in her hand. "what do you think of him?"

When you turn to look at her she's got her eyes on you, the gentle gaze more than inviting you to tell her your thoughts. You're honest, because why wouldn't you be?

"I like him, I really do." You can't help the smile on your lips as you bring your focus back to the boys in the water, Sarah's voice a comfort beside you. "He's not how I thought he would be—in a good way of course."

Without words you can tell that Sarah is urging you on. She wants to know more, and you need to build the trust of the group. Make them believe what you have with JJ is real.

"I didn't know he cared as much as he did, I mean, I knew he loved you guys more than anything. I could see that as an outsider just like everyone else in this place." You smile at Sarah, and she mimics the look. "I'd just always seen him as this guy with all these walls up. I never thought I'd be someone allowed inside."

You don't know much about JJ yet, but you find yourself wanting to know more with every passing day.

"I'm just as surprised as you. We all are." Sarah gestures to Pope and Kie, deep in conversation with a group you'd never laid eyes on before. Sarah, the Kook princess had become a part of their little crew so easily, and yet she thought it strange you'd managed to do the same. But John B was plenty different from JJ Maybank. They grew up different, and whether people like it or not, that changes a person.

"Can I tell you something?" You don't know why you say it, but you do. You think it's right to tell Sarah. You feel as though you have to.

"Yeah, of course." She's too nice to you, so unlike her brother.

"The night of the bonfire, when this thing with me and JJ started, it was because of Rafe."

Sarah looks confused, her brows knit together, her head tilting to the side. You're surprisingly calm considering all of it, and so is she.

"He's been bothering me for a while, and JJ stepped in to help me that night." You expect her to be surprised, to defend her brothers honor from the hints that you're dropping. But her head falls into a disappointed nod.

Before anything more can revealed to the night air, you're interrupted. You don't see him coming and by the looks of her jump, neither does Sarah. JJ had jogged up to your side suspiciously fast, dripping wet from the waves, and once he's close enough, the water from his hair and clothes flings itself onto you in droplets.

"You're soaked JJ." You growl, trying to defend yourself from the gentle rain that falls from his being.

"You're the one that suggested the swim." He dares to remind you of your conversation earlier, before extending a hand to help you up from the log on which you sit. Sarah waits for John B, who is making his way calmly across the sand to his beloved girl.

Once you're on your feet JJ gives you a warning look, before ringing out the edges of his soggy shirt. You move closer, taking a step away from Sarah and her approaching boyfriend to allow him to speak.

"Rafe incoming, sergeant." his voice is quiet, and he intends to lead you further away from the boy inching closer, but you shove JJ back. It doesn't move him much but there's a frustration in the action as an aggressive stage whisper leaves your lips.

"You said he wouldn't be here!"

"I thought he wouldn't be! I don't have a tracker on the guys damn location!" JJ had seen the Cameron approaching whilst beside John B, and had tried his best to reach you before he could. It was a success so far, but wouldn't be for long if you both kept talking. He hadn't liked the way he caught Rafe watching you in the slightest, as though you were prey ready to catch, and his defenses were raising with each second that passed.

"Look," JJ takes your hands in his own, thumbs running across your knuckles "He's not gonna come near you, not while I'm here." he's entirely focused on you, and it's changed the atmosphere entirely.

"Jay," You go to warn him that this might not work, that it might end badly, but he stops you.

"I promised didn't I?"

JJ squeezes both your hands before getting into character, though he doesn't have to change much to do it, he straightens, as do you, when a familiar voice calls out.

"Look at all the lovebirds." It's not Rafe, but rather Topper, who speaks, standing by the Cameron's side. "We all good over here? Need anything? Drinks? an escape from Pogue boyfriends?" Topper directs his words to Sarah, the man unable to let her go, but Rafe's eyes stay trained on you, and JJ's arm that is now placed strategically over your shoulder.

"Let's go." Sarah mutters the words to John B, but she's watching you, a knowing look and what you've told her fresh in her mind. She's got your back, and you're more than grateful.

"Why leave so soon? We just got here." Rafe's voice is like nails running over a chalkboard, hard and sharp. You don't flinch though, standing your ground. You reach up to JJ's hand hanging over your shoulder and link your fingers with his, to solidify the point you're making. The Pogues are a united front, and they can't make it past.

"I think we can all say we were having a great fucking time before you showed up, so if you could retrace your steps back to your little Kook hideout, that would be much appreciated." JJ is walking on a thin line, that by the look of John B's face, seems to be unsurprising. His grip on your hand is strong, the water from his t-shirt having begun to dampen your clothes.

"I think we have as much right to be here as the rest of you." Rafe's words are slurred, and when you glance to the almost empty cup in his left hand you can understand why.

"Then we can leave." It's the first words you've spoken to him since the night of the bonfire, and they fly with a newfound confidence.

"We shouldn't have to." It's Sarah, taking steps away from the two boys and toward you with John B close on her heels. "There's a lot of space on the beach, Rafe. Go find someone else to bother."

"This is boring, man." it's a brief whisper from Topper to Rafe, and it seems as though Topper is willing to back off, probably not in the mood to see John B and Sarah together.

Rafe takes it a different way.

"We could make this interesting," Rafe pauses, and you know what he's implying. Everyone does. "What'd you say, Maybank?" He's taunting the boy beside you, and in true JJ character, the blonde snaps back.

"Oh, you wanna do it that way, huh? Trust me on this one, man. It won't be pretty." You dig your fingers into JJ's side as he says it. A silent plea. And just when you think everything is about to go up in flames, Topper and John B diffuse the light.

"He's not worth it, dude." It's Toppers words to Rafe, similar things whispered by John B in your direction as the kook calms his friend down. Both Rafe and JJ are a little too tipsy for this, and the chances of it ending well on either side were at their lowest. Pope and Kie had made their way over by now, wary of the confrontation, and they stand behind you as support. Perhaps that adds to Topper's lack of interest. Two kooks against far too many pogues.

It seems like it's over as Topper convinces Rafe to walk away, but Ward's son can never fail to leave without a comment.

"You know, I really gave you a chance." Rafe is staring directly at you, eyes locked on your body. He drags his gaze over every part of it clear as day. "Didn't think you'd stoop this low. I guess charity cases are more your style. I'll try harder next time."

You can't figure out if it's a threat or not, but it's certainly a kind of promise you don't want him to be keeping. JJ lets go of you then, leaping forward to your defense, and the outline of his body from his wet clothes is left imprinted on the side of your shirt.

"You better watch your back, Rafe 'cause I swear to god–" but JJ can do nothing more than curse at the boy, John B, Pope, and Kie holding him back from starting an unnecessary war. Topper makes his move to push Rafe from the line of fire, too, playing his part in making peace, but as they move away, Rafe is grinning ear to ear. He didn't win this time, but he's playing a long game, and somehow, you know it.

That was the end of the night for you. Nothing was fun after that and there didn't seem to be a point in flaunting your relationship with JJ when you'd done it for more than a few minutes in front of Rafe himself.

The sky only seemed to get darker, as if judging the mood of the small group that was under it, making a slow pace back to the chateau. It wasn’t a far walk, barely 40 paces since Pope had parked the van a little closer than usual to ensure that his drunk friends could make it inside.

"You can stay over if you want. Everyone else is." You can hardly see John B in the deep blue of the night, but you can make out the outline of his curls bouncing as he walks. He keeps a steady pace with you, JJ having fallen back beside Pope in favor of discussing some old space movie the stars reminded him of. "But Pope's willing to drive you home if you don't wanna stick around. He's crashing here too so he can just bring the Twinkie back to us." You can smell the beer on his breath, and the salt on his clothes.

"I don't want to put you guys out." You're still standing and perfectly capable of making your own way home in the dark, but you have to admit you don't much want to.

"You'd never put us out, right JJ?" John B calls back to his friend, stumbling along, and the Blonde perks up at the mention of his name.

"What?"

"I just told your girlfriend she can stay at the chateau if she wants!" the emphasis on the your title is heavy.

JJ bounds up to your side, a slightly drunk puppy wandering in the darkness. "You wanna stay over?"

"I told her Pope can drive her home too." John B cuts in, voice too loud for the empty night.

"Or I can drive you." but the way JJ sways as he stands before you indicates he has no idea what he's saying.

"You don't have to drive me home JJ, I'll sleep on John B's couch or something." You say it in part because, whilst Pope is sober and fully willing to provide you with a ride, JJ is a persistent kind of drunk with stupider ideas than usual.

"We've got a spare bed, a sofa bed, couch, a couple of hammocks and a pretty decent floor if you're picky." You can hear the smile creeping into John B's voice, an inviting one that lets you know he's only teasing. "I'm guessing you'll wanna stick with JJ though, considering-" he doesn't have to finish the sentence, you know what he means.

Considering you're together. A couple. An Item.

"But first," John B swings an arm over JJ's shoulders, pulling him into his side. "I need to have a little chat with your man here." You're at the front door, and John B tugs JJ inside and out to the back porch before you can say another word.

When they're alone, John B leaps into one of the hammocks and waits for JJ to follow suit on the other.

"Dude, I'm like, so drunk right now." JJ mumbles, eyes closing as soon as he sinks into his hammock. He felt the buzzing in his veins, the hum of the many drinks he'd put in his body, and while John B hadn't had as much to drink as his sandy haired friend, he too was feeling the effects.

"So," John B crosses his arms over his chest, as he looks up to the stars. "You really into this girl?"

"yeah, why?" JJ was in a precarious position, and even drunk he knew that. He was a good liar, but doing it while intoxicated was a different story.

"She just seems like the complete opposite of you dude, I can't get my head around it."

JJ closes his eyes, and flickers of you appear in the blackness he sees. "Neither can I, man. But I like her, she's a lot tougher than you think."

John B is silent for a while after that, and JJ hopes that's the end of it. He doesn't want to lie to his best friend, it never gets easier when he has to.

"If you don't like her, just say it," JJ mutters, after the quiet burns against his skin for too long. "but I'm telling you one thing now, I'm not dumping her. She's not just my girlfriend JB, she's my friend and I'll be damned if I'm leaving her just when things are getting good between us."

"I never said I didn't like her, JJ." John B shuffles in his hammock, "Just be careful with that heart of yours loverboy." he can hear JJ stand up, feet crushing against the dirt as he makes his way back inside.

"Night John B." JJ calls as he pulls the door closed behind him.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @s00buwu

OUTER BANKS TAGLIST: @scenesofobx

SERIES TAGLIST: @ghostbusterscantcatchme

[hopeymchope]

The absolute pitch-black darkness of evil single day in America in 2025

Corruption and evil has never been more rampant in the U.S.

Today ALONE they announced all police reform is cancelled, there will be no more attempting to settle or reform in regards to George Floyd or Breona Taylor. Because fuck you, cops have a right to murder black people. They announced COVID vaccines now have to carry lying disclaimers about supposed deadly dangers, and that COVID vaccines will no longer be available to most people under 65 because fuck you, you should all die from COVID. After all, Elon Musk already publically told everyone NATIONWIDE that they "need to cull the population." That "people have been living for too long, and that has to stop." Oh, and the Pentagon also announced todaythey're happily accepting Trump's unconstitutional bribe of a 500-million-dollar jet.

And that's just the shit that happened today. In one day.

Every day has been like this since Pumpkin Pol Pot took office. Republicans have torn up all the rules and broken every law, and people are still out here trying to affect change "the right way." Um. The right way doesn't matter. They will break any law to see you beaten down, imprisoned, killed. There is no floor to how low they will go. They already announced MONTHS ago that they're taking over how elections are run and how they're counted; you can't vote them out anymore. Protest? Oh, they've promised to declare martial law and they WILL imprison you.

They routinely break laws, and even if the court says it's illegal and orders them to stop/reverse, they just... don't. They keep it up. They keep deporting American citizens. They keep sending them off to life imprisonment in a foreign nation without any hearing, any review.

America is The Great Evil now. And unfortunately, many people who live here have no viable way to LEAVE it. We're trapped in the the Empire's borders.

The only option left is to organize for war. How do we start a Civil War? An open Revolution? How do we organize such a thing in a country where we live in a constant surveillance state??? It seems impossible.

What hope is left, then? What can anyone do, anywhere?

They want us to die. We're going to. So..... is there anything left besides laying down and fucking dying? Anything?

[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.

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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?''