#wtd cheer

[wolfusmoonstudio]

I redesigned the WtD Character twimblos, and I may or may not make more later.

[thatawkwardbryce]

"Ready set and GO!"

More great art by my bud Raikoun, this time of Cheer giving a cheeky wink while out racing your car.

[happyfroggy123]

https://www.deviantart.com/ms849392/journal/Wiatt-Through-The-Looking-Glass-Returns-1094899221

Tada !!! [The story starts off in Dreamland, Where Mayor StarShine was Busy looking over his Paperwork, Until, A invitation From the Queen Of Wonderland Grove reaches his doorstep]

(I'll play as mayor StarShine once and you can play as him and the other characters!)

Mayor StarShine: Hmm?[He opens the door to see a frog herald with a letter in hand]

Frog Herald: For the Mayor, And Invitation From the Queen, To dreamworld Entertainment For a Vacation!

Mayor StarShine: Oh my! Thank you! Give my regards to the Queen!

[After they both bow to each other, The Mayor sits on his chair , Open the Envelope, and reads it, After he reads it, He smiles with joy!]

Mayor StarShine: Oh My Stars! I will be There right away With the Family!

(If anyone wants to make fanart of this au, I won't mind! )

Tada!!!Wtdw Belongs to Rainbott!

Wtdw Ocs Belongs to Bretheswan!

Snowy The Bunny, And Sugarbelly the Cyan Sugar Bear Belong to me!

[missameliep]

Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years

Book: Wake the Dead Characters: Angel Savage; Eli Sipes; Malia Jones (MC) and Troy Hassan. Pairing: Malia Jones (MC) x Troy Hassan. Rating: M (see notes bellow) Word count: 6.300k Summary: After getting separated from her friends during a scouting mission in a new city, Malia got injured and will struggle to survive against all odds. Is she going to make it on her own?

Notes:

English is not my first language;

Characters belong to Pixelberry and I’m borrowing them;

Post-WTD events;

This fic is rated M because of triggering subjects: swearing; mentions of death and violence compliant to canon; mentions of injuries and blood; mention to suicide; readers discretion advised

This fic was inspired by a prompt sent by the lovely @jerzwriter - It kinda took an unexpected turn from where I thought this fic would go! Thanks for sending the prompt and I apologise it took soooo long.

Running through unknown terrain is usually a bad idea and Malia would strongly advice against it, considering how easily one could stumble directly into the arms of the undead. However, given the circumstances, the only other option left is certain death if she tries to hold her ground and fight the ‘zombiefest’ on her own with an injured arm.  

So, she runs.  

Being chased triggered Malia’s brain in survival mode.  

Adrenaline and pure will make her muscles climb another set of stairs and the next one. No amount of exercise at the colony could have prepared her for this. 

Breathe, she reminds herself, breathe. 

Dashing up, Malia reaches the next flight of stairs, barely catching her breath and a glimpse of the number six lying on the floor. 

Six.  

That’s the number of arrows shot and undead put to rest for good before a blur in her peripheral vision obfuscated everything.  

The impact knocked the air out of her lungs. Stumbling back, her body landed on a pile of debris. A sharp pain on her arm didn’t stop her from kicking back, making the decayed corpse reel back, allowing enough space for the metal tip of the arrow sunk deep into an eye socket and exit through the back of the drone’s head.  

Her brain didn’t register getting up or running. Next thing she remembers is the bang of the heavy metal door against the wall when she dashed, hisses and snarls following too close...    

Heart pounding in her ears, almost muffling the sound of her own steps and those of her chasers, she climbs another set of stairs.  

Going three steps at once is not something manageable for much longer; however, slowing down is not an option either until being certain of the distance put between her and the pursuers... 

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. The voices in her mind alternating between her own and Troy’s, that one cheerful tone he used when she was sparring with anyone other than him. You can do this, Malia. You’ve got this!  

Reaching the next flight of stairs, she slows down, pacing her run, and her trained ears capture the faint growls and dragging of feet echoing bellow. There is no need to turn around to know she’s gained on them. At least for now.   

Tenth floor. 

Ten.  

That’s how many days passed since they barely survived the surge. But with all the work tending the injured, the extensive damages to the lodge and deciding on a new place to settle Olympus, one could think it happened months ago... 

Using her good arm, she forces the fire exit door’s handle and pulls with all her strength in vain. 

An inhuman screech echoes.  

A fucking Scout! Just my luck! Every hibernating zombie in a mile will come here... 

She darts upward, hoping the upper floors won’t be packed with drones. 

On the wall, the numbers indicating she reached the sixteenth-floor conserve a faint glow despite the dust and spiderwebs. The fire exit door is also stuck, probably blocked from the inside. With a groan, she pushes and pulls harder, but it doesn’t budge.  

“Better try my luck with the next one,” she murmurs, “Seventeen might be my lucky number.” 

It wasn’t.  

But it doesn’t matter. When your goal is not becoming drone’s snack, you’ll find the strength to keep going.  

This building has at least forty floors... I’ll try the next one and the next one until I find one door unlocked or no more doors to bang on... 

Hope fuels her entire body.  

Twenty-two was her lucky number. 

Pulling at the large bar, she easily props open the fire door. A long and dark hallway stretches before her, the faintest light filtering through the furthest door on the left. 

From the stairs, the hisses are getting louder.  

As quiet as possible, she closes the door and turns on the flashlight, searching for anything to barricade it. Drones shouldn’t be able to grasp on door handles, but they shouldn’t talk or have a conscience either, but Malia knows how untrue those statements can be... 

A fire hose on the wall fits the purpose. Forcing the metal door open, she reels it out as best as she can with one hand, then rolls it around the bar to keep the door shut.  

She barely finished securing the door closed when the horde tested its resistance. Scratches, bangs and ungodly hisses echo. Startled, she takes a step back and the gun out of the shoulder holster. In the darkness, her attention split between the door in front of her and the long corridor behind, from where a drone could be lurking. 

Not daring make a sound, she stands completely still and holds her breath until most of the horde seems to continue the chase up the stairs. Only a few growls persist, but no signs they would manage to break in. 

Letting out an exhausted breath, every muscle on her body seems to give up at once. Her lungs ache. Her vision blurs. She bends over with pain in her side and leans against the closest wall. Her palm is tainted crimson with the blood soaking the t-shirt. 

“Fuck” she hisses and her body slides down. The muscles of her legs melting underneath her weight like frost when the sun comes up. 

The silence that settles is a good sign. If the commotion didn’t attract any zombie, then it’s almost safe to say she’s entered a zombie-free floor. 

Putting her backpack down, Malia takes a sip at the water from the flask and inhales deeply. Another sip at the liquid is not enough to wash the lingering taste of dust in her mouth, but she must save for later. 

Later. 

Eli’s words on the back of her mind reminding now’s the time to prepare for later. “Keep walking. Let your body decelerate. Sitting down is bad. Life is motion.” 

The pain urges her to ignore all the advice.  

There’s no strength left. Blood is pouring from the wound, soaking her t-shirt that has been shredded on the side by the drone’s tallons. Her left arm refuses to be ignored any longer. An acute pain irradiates through the entire limb. Her hand run over the thick fabric of the jacket, touching the bump caused by the bone sticking out... A fracture. 

“Just my luck,” she mutters. 

It’s unsafe to risk making any noise without securing the perimeter first. The fact there’s not a drone in her face, is no excuse to sit back and relax. But on the other hand, she cannot go on without tending to her injuries. 

Rubbing her hand against her face, wiping the sweat, she needs to rest. One more minute. Two more deep breaths. Her back rests against the wall while she inhales and exhales, her breathing becomes steadier and her pulse less erratic.  

From previous experience, if all the noise and the scent of her blood didn’t bring any drone here, she must be safe. For now. 

Her training comes back to mind, and her brain lists everything she needs: a less exposed place; a first aid kit, since the one Shannon insisted on sending with the party remained in the van; and then she’ll find an alternative exit.  

“I can do this,” she mutters like a mantra. “It’ll be fine.” 

When she’s back on her feet the flashlight trembles on her left hand, her fingers barely bending to hold it. Ignoring the pain, Malia tucks it under her arm and holds the revolver with her right hand.  

While she walks, the faint glow fights the darkness, the beam lingering on every closed door while her hearing trained to listen any minor noise. The first door is locked, and she leaves it be. The next one is some kind of storage room, with brooms and several containers with colourful liquids. A quick skim to make sure there’s something useful on the cramped shelves. If Angel were here, she’d probably fabricate an explosive with two of those bottles and a rag. Just in case, she picks up a small one with a highly flammable warning before closing the door and moving on to the next one.  

Pushing it open, she finds herself standing in a bathroom with several urinals, broken mirrors and signs of death everywhere, if the maroon splotches on the white floor tiles and the impression of a hand on the door are not part of the decoration. 

Ignoring the eerie sight and the pain, she takes one careful step after the other. The gun and backpack are placed over the counter next to the sink. She lets the jacket slide off her shoulder and down her arm, exposing the injuries in the mirror. Right beneath the ribs, there’s a gash in the t-shirt and a long cut wider than her index finger. It definitely doesn't need stitches, something undoable by herself. Fortunately, it’s also superficial and no ribs were broken by the collision. Taking a spare t-shirt from the backpack, she tears a piece of the cloth and press it to the wound and keeps the pressure on to stop the bleeding, all the while her gaze doesn’t avert from the bump on her arm. 

She takes a deep breath, preparing to examine it.  

Assisting Shannon while treating the injured taught her a thing or two, and she’s grateful for that. The fracture was right above the elbow and the bone didn’t pierce through the skin, which is a good thing, considering the risk of infection. It’s not the first time she breaks a bone, nor the second. She’s broken fingers and toes and a rib during trainings. But at the Tower you never had to deal with it alone, and if you were lucky enough, you’d even get a pill to ease the pain or some ice... 

When she tries to push the bone back in place, an unbearable pain stops her from doing so. Gritting her teeth, she tries again. Her jaw tightened so much while she tried not to scream, she fears the teeth would just crumble to dust. Her eyes well with unshed tears when the bone seems to click in place. A string of curses is muttered under her breath while struggling to put the jacket back on. The rest of the spare t-shirt is converted into an improvised arm sling until she can treat it properly.  

Collecting her stuff, she returns to the corridor that remains completely silent. 

Ahead of her, the corridor takes a sharp turn to the left. Peeking from the corner, she observes how it widens near two elevators’ metallic doors, and she can almost picture it bustling with people in the old days.  

Two wide lift doors are sided by what once might have been ostentatious vases with palm trees like she’s seen in magazines. One is lying sideways, dark potting soil spread over the floor. Indications of a small fire and singed objects close to one of the many doors on the other side, painted the wall black all the way up to the ceiling.  

This corridor is also pitch black, except from a faint light emerging through one of the furthest doors.  

Her gaze fixes on that promising natural light.  

She crosses the remaining metres and walks into an ample and illuminated space. 

Judging by the disposition of the remnants of countless desks and what she assumes once were cubicles, she’s stepped into some kind of office. A much bigger version of the one at the Tower’s fourth floor. 

Walking carefully around piles of debris and tossed carcasses of metallic furniture, she finds no sign of drones. The floor is littered with paper and ragged pieces of what she can only assume once upon a time were someone’s clothes. One of the floor-to-ceiling windows is cracked in a spiderweb pattern and another was shattered, allowing the warm desert wind to blow inside. Next to them a chair lies tilted upside down. Tiny pieces of glass are scattered on the floor, glowing with the sunbeams. 

She cannot even imagine the chaos that might have followed an attack in such confined spaces. A shiver runs down her spine. Suddenly the rules imposed at the Tower to prevent infected to get in make too much sense. 

The flutter of wings startles her. She’s not expecting birds in a fucking building. Some of them fly across the room and out into the open space. She ducks in time to not get hit by one of them. There are feathers scattered on the ground and over the desks, droppings taint every surface and what she assumes are nests are hidden on the plaster above her head and into tubular lightings. She ignores them and moves forward.  

A crunching noise beneath her boots calls her attention.  

Lying at her feet, a frame with a broken glass. Despite the spiderweb-like shape of the crack, it was possible to see the picture. A smiling woman sitting on a porch’s stairs in the company of a child, a cat and a dog. A glimpse of what life used to be. Her jaw tightens at the sight of it.  

Life in this New World lacks pictures, pets and smiles like those.  

When the world spiralled into chaos, pictures were definitely the least of anyone’s concerns. Who would even stick some big-ass photo album on a backpack, considering you even had time to pack?  

However, if you survive the End of the World, it becomes one of those sentimentalities that nag at your mind. At days when it seems her fathers’ faces have fallen into an abyss in her mind, and Brynn’s face is dangerously starting to fade, she’d give anything to have at least one picture of them. Just one. It didn’t even have to be a flattering one, just good enough to keep some part of them alive... 

Pets were never allowed at the Tower. Too noisy, people said; and over the years she almost forgot about their existence entirely. Brynn, however, remembered the old retrievers from their home. Coco and Luna. According to her, they were soft, warm and loving, and you could bury your face in their caramel fur and forget bad days at school and boys who picked on you. Malia doesn’t remember them or the sound they made, but Brynn confirmed dogs were loud – even the old ones – and so were kids. That’s probably why so many disliked them at the Tower either and you won’t see a single kid with the Raiders...  

And for the smiles, it’s not exactly people don’t smile anymore...  

Malia certainly has smiled plenty of times and even laughed! And so have others... But it seems like everyone has worry lines, even the children. The constant looking over one’s shoulder might age people beyond their years, weighing down their expression, hardening it. The horror you cannot unsee becomes engraved in the skin, steals the brightness of the eyes little by little...  

Unlike those old pictures.  

At least not in the ones they’ve usually come across, hanging at houses and proudly displayed at stores. Only once she found something remarkably similar to the looks and smiles of people in the colonies. In a pile of detritus at one of Olympus’ rooms, she found this old magazine... The inner pages were filled with pictures of refugees of some war in a place she never heard of... Displaced, threatened, starving, separated from loved ones... Experiences most of the survivors know well by now.  

Could the woman and child have survived the first hordes? And the surges that followed every seven years? Were they separated from each other, never knowing what happened to the other or were they allowed the mercy to live and die together?  

The agony of not knowing is painfully familiar. 

Almost reverently, she places the frame over a desk and keeps moving, checking for zombies... It takes only a few minutes to cover the whole floor. Thankfully she’s alone. Unfortunately, there are no other exit or external fire escape for her to climb down from this side of the building.  

That’s a big complication, considering she cannot use the one she came from. With a broken arm, using the elevator’s shaft is too risky...

Standing by the floor to ceiling windows, she presses her forehead against the warm glass and gazes at the city bathed in the late afternoon sun. Long shadows stretch over the streets bellow. Maybe a hundred drones are hidden in those darkened alleys... Soon it will be completely dark. She takes a long deep breath and curses. 

She’s trapped – at least for the night – and alone. 

Getting separated from your companions on any mission can be bad.

Getting separated on a city you’re scouting for the first time is a nightmare.  

They haven’t mapped escape routes or ruled out hazards apart from drones. One never knows if you’ll meet other survivors and of which kind... 

Down below, one of the streets is partially blocked by abandoned vehicles. A small delivery truck hit a light pole that fell and smashed its hood and cabin. Other vehicles queued behind the truck, forming a long line with about twenty cars. Some of the doors were left wide open, reminders of the rush to escape and the chaos of those days. 

Two decades have gone by, and you can always feel it hanging in the air. The tragedy. The lives lost. The stories interrupted.  

Was there anybody left to tell their stories? Does anybody remember what happened here? All those people had names, lives, pets, jobs... All that’s left of their existence are abandoned cars and lost shoes...  

If one is gone and nobody remembers them, is it the same as never existing?  

When the last of her friends die, is it what will happen? Will they fade to nothingness? Should it even matter? 

Her mind drifts to them. Troy, Angel and Eli have no idea where she is. And she has no idea if she successfully drove the zombies away from the van... How are they faring? Did they get the supplies to the van? And more importantly: are they alive? 

Hopefully they are following the plan and will be leaving soon. 

Leaving her.  

That’s how it’s supposed to be, she reminds herself. If they’re safe, it was worth it. 

Her stomach growls. The last time she ate was this morning, before leaving Olympus. While rummaging through the content of the backpack to pick one of the apples, her fingers glide over the radio Angel put together. They tested it a few times back at the colony, and it only worked within a certain range. After 10 miles it was hard to capture the signal, and the communication was ineffective. She considers how much she ran through the park till the building.  

The object is heavy in her hands, like the decision she must make.  

If she contacts them, they could come after her, which is suicide, considering all the drones.  

If she doesn’t, they won’t know she’s fine and might be looking for her, wasting precious time and resources. Besides, the idea of them worrying unnecessarily is unpleasant. She’s been there and hated it. 

The radio cracks when she turns it on, and she calls her friends’ names in a low voice. One after the other. Like a mantra.   

“Hey? Can you hear me? Troy. Eli. Angel. If you guys can hear me, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Get back to the colony.” 

The radio crackled with the strangest of noises. Malia wanted to make something out of it, to believe there were voices, familiar voices, talking back to her. But there were none. Only static. 

The hopeful part of her brain assumes they are on their way back to Olympus, getting to safety and not staying outside after nightfall... That’s the logical thing to do – even if she’d never make that choice. 

Shoving the radio in the pocket of her cargo pants, she moves away from the window and keeps herself busy. The drones are not resting if the noises somewhere above this floor are any indication. 

If anything, life taught her the impermanence of things. There’s no safety.  

Life is motion.  

So, she moves. 

First, secure the perimeter.  

Pushing a heavy cabinet, she blocks the access to one smaller section of the office that has real walls and doors instead of the paper-like partitions that are everywhere else. A room with sturdier furniture and a two-seater sofa provides a good place to rest. Once inside, she shifts through the desks’ drawers and cabinets, finding a small hidden refrigerator.  

After the task is completed, she collected two scissors that might be useful, granola bars and chocolate fabricated in the year the world collapsed, three bottles of water and one half-full of decent whiskey, judging by the way it doesn’t burn her throat when she takes a swig at it. Troy will be thrilled about that discovery. Everything gets shoved inside her backpack. For her own enjoyment and the kids at the colony, she takes notepads and a handful of pens and pencils. 

Clearing a large wooden desk, she sits atop of it with her legs crossed. The hunting knife is placed beside her, ready to use. Looking outside, she munches on one of the apples picked at the orchard. 

Even in the distance, the lines of vehicles on the roads exiting the town are visible. Decades spent in the same position, frozen in time. Living in a zombie apocalypse has taught her to see the horror beneath the quiet.  

From time to time, there’s beauty too.  

She picks up one of the notepads and takes a pencil to sketch the skyscape and hills in the yellowed pages. This is the first time she's drawn since leaving the Tower. It doesn’t matter if it’s a rough sketch. Her pencil moves quick to capture all the lines. She can better it later.  

And she must believe there’ll be a later. 

Without the sun, the sky darkens fast, and the notepad and pencil are shoved inside the backpack. She lies on her back in the couch, and stares at the ceiling. 

Waiting and doing nothing are not amongst her skills.  

Boredom turns the radio into a temptation, and she fishes the device. 

Contacting them, she tells herself, is nothing but a selfless gesture. In doing so, she puts them at ease about her whereabouts, they can stop worrying and move on... She’s not thinking about the ache in her gut of not knowing if they’re alive. It’s not about the hope of being rescued either and going back to the home they’ve built.  

In a world like theirs, why should she be so determined to survive? When their lives are basically navigating from a life-threatening situation to the next one? Isn’t it the strangest thing? To feel such helplessness and dismay daily and yet dread the possibility of an end? it makes so little sense sometimes all this effort... wouldn’t it be easier to cease to exist?  

The answer to that question she knows too well. Hope moves her. It might sound silly if she ever says it out loud... but it’s hope. It’s hope that makes her wake up every morning, work hard and take care of herself and loved ones. They live and die for one another. They survive and they hope. They work and they hope. And she hopes and hopes. For a good day. For love. For respite. For a future. For the day her toes will touch warm sands at a beach. For the cool waves swaying around her body.

This day might’ve thrown a shitload of touble at her, but she can get over it. She always does. She’ll find a way, even if now she only wishes to break down and cry. Giving up is not an option. Brynn sacrificed herself for her, and she has followed the example more than a handful of times – including this afternoon. A month ago she promised Troy to live a good life, and she’ll do exactly that.  

The memory makes her throat tighten.   

Without thinking, her hand runs over the bump and the fractured bone... and the pain settles her. Nothing much she can do now, she must wait until morning, when there’s a better chance of leaving this building unscathed... Until then, she must act. Life is motion. 

Time moves so slowly when you’re not doing chores; she remembers the times they got lockdown at the Tower and all the idle hours to fill. She and Brynn drank whatever crap beer one could get, played charades and word games, trained, and stayed silent for hours. Disrespecting the rules, Malia and Troy would often sneak into each other’s rooms, and spend some time together. Those were the best moments... The memories and the things left unsaid almost choke her. She’s faced zombies and more danger than her mind could’ve anticipated before leaving the Tower, and yet... the idea of telling him how much she loves him, how much she’s loved him for years is terrifying. 

A bitter laugh gets trapped in her throat, and it’s hard to breath. Her hand presses against the back of her neck, it rubs the muscles, trying to alleviate the tension. 

With each passing minute, fighting the idea of using the radio becomes harder. She wants them to pick up, to listen to their voices, even if it’s the last time.  

If they do pick up, it means they are close, when they should’ve left. And she can’t bear the thought of being the reason of them dying. 

What’s left unsaid, does it even matter now? If either of them does not see another day, do words change what they feel? Is it more bearable to hold it in, to not name what it is? Would the loss feel less devastating without the words weighting on it? 

“What a fucked up world,” she mutters under her breath. 

She fidgets with the radio, letting the static fill the silence for a few minutes. Then she speaks again. This time, she’s just calling Troy over and over. The minutes elapse, and she’s just rambling to the hissing device. 

“Troy... if you’re listening... it’s me... I... I’m... fine... Don’t worry. I’ll make it back to the colony when I can,” she pauses, considering who is she lying to. Even if she makes all the way down, there’s no guarantee she’ll ever make to the colony by herself.  

Another family lost. 

She sighs, and the truth pours out of her mouth like a river, “Troy, I’m hurt and trapped... but I’m safe for now... there’s no drones here... but the lower floors are packed with... I don’t know... a hundred of them, maybe... I cannot go back... I’m at the twenty-second floor... it’s insanely high! You’d love the view! I need to thank Eli for bugging me to run every morning or I wouldn’t have made this far... I can see most of the city... I’m at Baker Street... and I’ve got water... and food... but I’m... but... I’m so fucking scared. You can’t die. I promised to take care of you... but... I hope you’re... okay... all of you... there’s so much I wanted to tell you... damn... This is stupid! There’s nobody out there!” She growled with frustration, and the radio hissed. 

“Malia! I hear you! Can – Can you hear me?” Troy’s voice echoed before she turned the radio off, and it washed the tension off her body instantly. 

“Yes!” she cries, “I can hear you!”  

“We were so worried...” There’s a clear sign of relief in his tone the radio statics couldn’t hide. “The radio was cutting off... and you didn’t hear us. Are you okay?” 

Before she could answer, Angel asked, “Where are you exactly on Baker St.?” 

Apparently, they have been listening to her, but she couldn’t hear them.  

“Tell us exactly where you are, Angel’s starting the van. Just keep talking to me, Maly!” 

They are coming for her. They are coming. They are family. They are her people. They are not lost. They are not leaving her... They are coming to a building infested with a hundred drones. They’ll die because of her. Her heart tightens. A rush of emotions blurs her vision. 

“No!” She won’t let anybody else risk their lives to save hers. “You can’t!” 

“What? Of course we can!” Troy shouts, probably fearing what she’ll say. “We’re getting you out of there now.” 

“There are too many drones! And at least one scout. There’s no way I can go back down... they fucked up my arm...” 

“You got bitten?” Eli’s voice echoes louder than Troy’s.  

“My arm is broken... I can’t use the crossbow.” 

“What about your gun? Just shoot those z-bag right between the eyes!” 

“I got five bullets left... it’s useless with that many... and the noise would just draw even more... I’m staying here tonight... And you guys must go home... Save fuel and go back. I’ll be alright. I’ve supplies. Have you seen how many abandoned cars? I got my eyes on a convertible,” she says lightly, even though her throat is tightening and her vision blurred. 

The radio cracked, and there was a long silence before Eli spoke again. “We won’t leave you.”  

“Sure, you will,” Malia tasted the salt of the tears on her lips. “Go.” 

“No.” 

Wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks, her voice started to crack, “You know the rules, Eli... Just... do what must be done... keep everyone safe. It’s up to you now.” 

“Malia,” Eli’s voice was laced with a kind of pleading Malia never heard. “What about keeping you safe?” 

“Have I thanked you for training with me? You’d be proud. Twenty-two floors, Eli. A gazillion steps. And no zombie got even close...” A low chuckle lace her words and there’s only statics on the radio. Maybe they lost the signal. 

“Hey! Why does only he get a thank you? What about all that cardio we do together?” Troy’s voice cannot hide the uneasiness.  

They are stalling, expecting her to change her mind...   

“And Troy? I found the roller rink... It’s beside a comic book store, you just go past –”  

“Don’t just ruin the surprise!” he cuts her off but his voice is higher and wavering with emotion. “You’ll take me there. We’ll come find you and then I’ll dazzle you with my incredible moves!” 

When her reply doesn’t come, Troy calls her name softly at first and then with desperation, and Eli and Angel’s voices are almost muffled by the rumble of the van’s engine. She ignores them and the pang in her stomach. 

“Angel, floor it,” Malia whispers, turning the radio off to not hear their protests.  

Willing herself to stop crying, the tears are wiped in a brusque way against the fabric of her jacket.  

They’re alive, so why’s she crying? 

Crying is not the answer. It never is. If she starts to cry alone for all the losses and pain within, the things that have never been and never will be, all that’s left unsaid, she’ll probably never stop. And those are dangerous thoughts. The kind of thought that makes her touch her pocket... 

Biting the inside of her cheek until she tastes blood, she forces herself to focus on anything else, like the fact she’s still alive and that no amount of zombie or disappointment can shut up the growl of her stomach. She’s alive. She’ll endure. She always does. Maybe this time around, she’ll have to do it alone. It’s good. She likes a challenge. 

Munching on one the rest of the apple, she contemplates the stars peppering the sky over the desert hills outside the city. That’s one of her favorite things about being outside the Tower: looking at the sky and the stars. If there’s a full moon tonight, she might just fucking cry with happiness then. 

Complete darkness has engulfed the world.  

Malia decided to keep the flashlight off to save the batteries and to not give away her location. The darkness and silence left her too long with her own thoughts. But there's nothing else to do... 

Besides the five bullets in the cylinder, there’s one inside her jacket pocket – the same one she’s keeping there since the night Brynn supposedly died at Eli’s cabin. 

If it comes to it, she’d rather die than let them have a piece of her... It’s not that she’s eager to die or anything. Especially not now when, despite the chaos  and losses, she is finally living. She’s got a taste of what life is supposed to be like beyond surviving: planning a future and basking in the sun and eating a piece of ripe fruit... and waking up and seeing Troy’s face first thing every morning...  

Her heart tightens. Troy helped her feel alive after Brynn died, he reignited her hope... and she hasn’t said she loves him... It’s a silly thought. Do words really matter? Would it make a difference if she said and died the next day, not keeping the promise to go back to him? 

The bullet is cold against her fingers.  

One for herself, if it comes to this. Dying is not the worst thing when turning into a zombie is a real threat.  

Somewhere in the building, a loud screech resounds, chilling the blood in her veins.  

She hugs herself, reminding herself if she keeps quiet, she'll be safe. Finally, she let sleep take over.  

Something heavy thumps outside.

Then a soft voice calls her name, the whisper breaks into her dreamless sleep. Her eyes flutter open. It’s still dark outside. She’s still all alone. The radio is silent. 

“Malia.” 

It's definitely her name and sounds like Troy. Maybe she’s hallucinating. 

There’s a flash of light underneath the door.  

She gets up and crosses the room to stand closer to the cabinet blocking the doors, and listens.  

“Malia. Where are you?” 

This time she hears it clearly. It’s Troy. She must be dreaming. 

“Troy?” she whispers, “Is that you?”  

The sound of footsteps halt. Her voice is enough to summon him straight to where she is standing.   

Pushing the cabinet aside, she cracks the door open, and the flashlight almost blinds her. The white light travels from her face to her feet. The flashlight hits the ground when his cold hands raise to cup her cheeks. 

“It’s you! It’s really you...” Troy’s voice is barely a whisper, and his gaze softens at the sight of her.  

“What are you doing here?” 

“Saving you, if my dramatic entrance didn’t make it abundantly clear...”  

With one arm around her waist, carefully avoiding her injured arm, he pulls her closer and buries his face in her neck, breathing out his relief. 

“Why would you risk coming for me?” she whispers against his ear. “I told you to go!” 

He raises his head to face her, a slow winning smile stretches his lips. “Baby, in case you haven’t noticed, that’s what I do! I always come back for you. I did at those zombie-infested woods, at the amusement park... I'll always come to you... You’re my best friend. My person. My family. I love you. I don’t think I ever loved anyone like I love you... How could I go on living knowing that – ” 

Once her brain processed the three words and what he’s saying, Malia doesn’t let him finish, kissing his lips with unusual gentleness. The kiss is unrushed, and the same words are whispered against his lips.  

“Say it again,” he pleads amongst soft kisses placed against the corner of her mouth. 

“I love you, Troy.”

Her hand caresses his cheek, and her thumb brushes against his lower lip, tracing his smile.

“It’s a shame now were both turning into zombie food...” 

“Where’s your optimism?” 

“I probably dropped it during my escape...” 

His mouth stretches with a grin, and he reluctantly steps away from her. 

“You certainly underestimate me. Do you think I’d come without a rescue plan?”

His eyebrows raised and even in the dim light she knows his eyes are sparkling with mischief. Kneeling, he grabbed the flashlight from the place it was lying next to their feet and went to the windows. His hands swirled, drawing the darkness with the light.  

As if on cue, the roar of an engine resounded somewhere below, followed by a honk she’d recognize even in her sleep. 

On the street, the van’s tyres screeched when swerved around the corner, allowing them a glimpse of Angel driving and screaming at the top of her lungs what she can only assume is a string of swearing at those fucking drones.  

“What’s she doing?” Malia mumbles.  

“You’ll see.” 

A swarm of zombies poured out of the building, shattering the remaining glasses of the lobby on their way out of the building to follow the noise. 

Swerving to the left, the van disappears.  

“What the hell! Have you guys lost –” 

“Wait. Almost there...” 

A few minutes pass, before loud music blasts in the distance.  

Troy points at an illuminated point in the far left. 

“The stadium.”  

Malia’s eyes identified the place right before the explosion. The glowing red lighted the darkness for an instant before being replaced by a column of thick smoke like tendrils on their way to reach the moon. 

“Fuck me!” 

“Oh! I will, but not here. We're on a tight schedule.” He chuckled, turning around to face her. “Impressed?” 

“Are you trying to impress me, Hassan?” 

Troy’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her to a sideways embrace. “We’re living on borrowed time, Maly... and it doesn’t matter if I have twenty seconds or twenty years... I want to spend them all with you... So, no, I’m not trying to impress you. I’m trying to take you home. It sounds nice, doesn’t it? Home.” 

“It sounds perfect.”

She kisses him one last time, and they move on with the plan.

[jerzwriter]

I like pain... so I decided to go there! lol Narrowing it down to 10 was nearly impossible because I love every single commission I have SO SO much.

I quickly realized that there was no way I was ranking them, so these ten are in no particular order.

Crimes of Passion:

Take Me Out - Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose - by @/artbyainna(IG) - Maybe it's because I'm a huge Yankee fan, and I've been there many times when the sun is setting just like this. Ah, who am I kidding? It's because my babies are adorable and so happy!

Vasili Thorne: The Lost Brother - by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd - We so deserved a CG of this deliciously maniacal scene in canon - but PB didn't deliver. Fortunately, Thia MORE than did with this incredible commission.

Open Heart:

Enchanted - Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish - by @/artbyainna (IG) - Their meeting at the diner in cannon reimagined as it should have been, and Ainna captured it perfectly.

A Carrick Family Easter - Tobias x Casey Carrick & the Carrick Girls. I may have screamed when I opened this one. This could possibly be my favorite of all my commissions.

A Little Holiday Cheer - Tobias x Casey, Ethan x Merida, Bryce x Olivia - this commission of our little friends AU sparkled more brightly than the holiday lights surrounding them!

Boys Night Out - Tobias, Ethan, Bryce by @/artbyainna - I simply LOVE this.

Any Other Day - Casey MacTavish x Jessica Philips - by @callmebeem - My precious Casey and Jess "celebrating" Valentine's Day and it came out just perfectly!

I do, Me too - Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan - @/artbyainna - Kaycee and Ethan's "surprise" wedding on the beach was captured just perfectly by Ainna!

Wake the Dead:

Eli's Family - Eli Sipes, David Sipes, Florence & Jim Sipes - by @rosefuckinggenius - This brought tears to my eyes. I wrote an extensive backstory for Eli's family. I also wrote a fic where Zoe drew a portrait of Eli's family and decided to have someone create that, and Rose BLEW me away!

Reminiscing - Eli Sipes x Zoe Rivera - by @/artbyainna - This was my first WTD commission and I am still obsessed with it! It captured their first kiss atop the Ferris wheel perfectly!

Eli x Zoe x Troy - by @bayleedraws-sometimesx - This is a recent gift from @icecoffee90 and OMG JUST LOOK AT THEM! This couldn't be more adorable!

Oh, that's 11... OH WELL! LOL I truly love every commission I have, and if you'd like to see more, they're all here!

@choicesfandomappreciation

[fallin4fiction]

Flex Legacy Gen 5: Love at Last and a Love Lost

Leo asks Sullivan out for a date at the new Bistro in Windenburg. Things go well and they have an after-date at the Dorthy and Friends Bar.

So well they end up taking it back to Leo’s place.

With no time to waste because they wasted enough time skirted around each other as teens, Sullivan pops the question.

They decided to get married on the renovated top floor of the Dorothy and Friends Bar.

A great time was had by all. Even Sullivan parents who felt the romantic vibes in the public toilets

The next day, Aaliyah aged up and tried to pursue a serious relationship with Lilian Bailey-Moon. But unfortunately Lillian is salty with her because she didn’t invite her to prom. But it’s not Lilian’s fault prom was on the same day as her brother’s wedding.

Lillian then has the nerve to invite Aaliyah to that one exclusive celebrity bar in Del Sol Valley, knowing Aaliyah is not famous enough to get in. Aaliyah tries to fight the bouncer to gain entry but fails.

Still Aaliyah tries to make things work with Lillian and proposes to her and they elope on the spot.

Unfortunately after their bedroom celebration of their new love, Aaliyah ended up with a WTD and divorced Lillian. Shortest marriage ever. We can’t all be Kenza and Lia from the Tate Legacy.

Things go for bad to worse when the family dog, Murphy who ran away, returns, but briefly dies afterwards. The family is devastated, but you know what could cheer them up? A new science baby! Welcome to the family Serena Dupree-Flex!

[ratontheline]

A lil backstory about the recent piece. That piece was marinating in the drafts for weeks now, that bitch is AGED, I honestly thought it was goofy ass trash so I abandoned it.

So I then decided I wanted to draw another piece - that turned out to also be GOOFY ASS TRASH, so now I got two pieces haunting me.

I then decided to try again, obviously 3rd times the charm or whatever right? So I begin cooking - nope. Still ass water, So now I got a fucking triad of disappointment.

So I’m staring at them like “fuck… wtd LMAO, I guess I can’t draw, I’ll quit my shit here” and then I did LMAO.

So the weeks go by then suddenly, like divine inspiration, someone possessed me, I became a fiend, looking for something to nibble on and then I saw my first piece, something clicked in my head. I started to COOK. I was man handling the bbq grill, and then BOOM breakfast, lunch and dinner is SERVED.

Idk if people will like it but drawing and finishing it made me feel good and therefore it and I served.

Anyway that’s the lore behind it, another weird funky ass step in my art journey I guess LMAO. Thanks for reading, Cheers fellas!

[analog-cottage-gore]

Hey I saw you were looking for questions about your Wtd aus? Well i couldn't pick one so here's a question for all of them!

Hazelnut tree: What's the alison in this au like? I would love to see his dynamic with more characters and we know he ends up with hazel. I wonder what his rule following personality would look like next to winnies moral roulette wheel.

Scaly secrets: You said some of the cast were dragons? Which ones!? And what colors. Are they all the same kinda dragon or different styles?

Cryptic Dreams: Is everyone a cryptid or are some of them hunters? What are some ways they avoid the hunters using their cryptid abblites?

Superhero: what are their powers? Understandable if you haven't got that all figured out yet. Superheroes are hard. So i'm also going to ask are they all heroes or are some of them villains and vigilantes. 

Post cannon au: Who shares rooms? How many bunk beds? Or do they all get their own room?

Mixed marriages: Where did you get the idea for the kingdom names you wrote about in the snippet you posted?

Robotic fantasy (I LOVE EXTRA ANGST): I noticed we are in a lot of the same fandoms so what other fandoms exactly are being thrown into the mix here? And what's your favorite duo of a WTD character partnered with a non WTD character?

I'm sorry if it's a lot of questions I have a lot to ask! Hearing about cool stuff like this always inspires me! Gets me thinking you know? They just all sound so cool! Hope you don't mind the length!

Salty I am so fucking happy you don't even know, this is my favorite ask ever I couldn't even imagine this!!!!!! I don't mind the length the length lets me ramble about my ideas which I need to do!!!!!!

Hazelnut tree: Allison would probably secretly tag along with Hazel and Night Light, and therefore ends up talking to the whole little group that's building. Allison would hate Winnie before his redemption due to helping Litho so much. After Win's redemption though? They'd probably get along relatively well, helped by the fact that I'm pretty sure their related, and at the very least they are in HNT.

Scaly Secrets: Currently the dragons consist of; Sara, Wiatt, Carly, Mike, The Triplets, and Winnie! Sara is dark pink, Wiatt is blue, Carly is light pink, Mike is orange, the Triplets are their respective animatron main colors, and Winnie is purple. Kept the color choices simple. Currently I don't have any great ideas on designs/abilities for the dragons, but I'm working on it! (They're all technically dragon shifters btw)

Cryptic Dreams: The cryptids are all the animatronic possessers (minus Eric who has a different deal going on) and Sara and the Twins. The main plot revolves around Wiatt, Damian, Celio, and Oliver thinking all tge cryptids have been taken by cryptids since they don't know they are the cryptids. So they team up with actual cryptid hunters to find them. Carly is also in the team to try and keep everyone from finding out about the cryptids while also stopping them from getting hurt. They use their abilities in a lot of ways, mainly to trap the hunters.

Superheros: Decided to answer both at once with a list, not everyone had powers decided on yet. A lot of them use the animatronic names as alter egos, and those who don't have. Kinda bad names lol.

Heros: Starlight (Lewis)* [????? And Specialized Telekinesis], Glory (Alyssa) [Water Manipulation and Siren Song], Rex (Mike), Ribbon Dancer (Ribbion Dancer)

Vigilantes: ???? (Wiatt) [Tech Manipulation], Detective (Damian) [Power Sight], The Triplets (The Triplets), Cheer (Carly) [Super Speed]

Villains: Shadina (Sara) [Shadow Powers and Specilized Telekinesis], Tela (Oliver)* [Tech Manipulation and Specilized Telekinesis], Winnie (Carlos/Winnie), Litho (Litho) [Shadow Powers], Lolli (Liz)*, Pop (Ben)*

(*depends on where in the plot they are)

Post Canon: As a general rule, all couples and young siblings share a room. So we got:

Lewis/Wiatt

Mike/Alyssa

Oliver/Damian

Liz/Ben

Mascarade/Melody/Mimic

Eric(/Ribbion Dancer technically)

Carly

Sara

Celio (maybe, idk if they're gonna live with everyone else)

Fun fact, the house they live in is the mansion Wiatt was implied to have lived in during highschool!

Mixed Marriages: The kingdom names cam from me translating a word relating to the character who's a royal in that kingdom into Spanish and Russian before mushing them together and making it look and sound like a kingdom name.

Robotic Fantasy: Pretty much all of them. We got:

WTDW

SAMS

FNAF SB in general

ESMP

MCYT in general

Maybe some of my oc's???

Personally I like Lewis, Moon, and Pearl's dynamic. They go through some shit together.

Also!!! Bonus new AU:

Mcyt (mainly empires) and Wtdw popstar AU has been circling in my head recently, so add it to tge list of AU's

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

Oh Katie, I am so tired. I am so lost as to WTD. Crossroads of sorts but also not as it's not like anything will change now but decision for later is to be made (Work profile & academic course related stuff) However, it is tiring me out & I have no appropriate answers. That's not like me honestly, but here we are. Not sure if I am sure of what I want to continue with. How is that even possible 😞 How good to have NamGi to guide; JiHoKook to cheer; TaeJin to cut off anxious thoughts. #prettytae

Idk if this well help but, whenever I have a tough decision to make or one that is just wearing me out I flip a coin. Because if I am disappointed by what it lands on then I know it was I truly wanted in the first place. 

But yes. No matter where you are in the world, or wha you’re going through BTS is always cheering and rooting for you. Jimin even said in the commencement speech for the 2020 graduating class to just remember that there is a guy in Korea always cheering for you and that will always be by your side. 

[rokettopencil]

i cant die yet i need to wait for the vox machina cartoon but idk wtd in the meantime

i feel like a shitbag saying this but my bf hasnt done much to cheer me up so i decided to go for radio silence

at this point i’m just sabotaging myself

but even if things end poorly, i know i can die freely

[ivo-martinsss]

I am glad I could cheer you up! ❤️ I am in a bad mood because PB only gave Wake the Dead one book so making others happy makes me happy!

Awwww! 🥰

And about WTD... I just heard about it!!! 😪 (I can't say say I am disappointed tho, i am kinda expecting PB to do just that, but thinking that Surrender gets a sequel... 😬)

wait... is WTD finsihed for VIPs now? ����

[wolfusmoonstudio]

Can we get a full design for characteristics au ppppppppplease?

Creaturistic is a very expansive universe and it would take forever to create a design references for every character, so I tried to create a height lineup with the main crew and founders in the universe I realize I should have put Wiatt in it but, idk *shrugs*

Here are the individual refs if you can't zoom in or the image quality goes to crap:

Jake, James & John (2'8):

Sara (5'2):

Carly (5'6):

Lewis (5'7):

Eric (6'1):

Ben & Liz (6'3):

Oliver (6'7):

Mike (7'2):

Alyssa (10'2) (Note: Her whole length is the same as canon Glory, 16'3 ft, but her tail accounts for part of it, so her height is different on land than in water):

[thatawkwardbryce]

I just realized the official art of Cheer on the Wiki looks like she hears someone talking mad shit about her.

Cheer: What did you say about me?!?

[xllxxrbxg]

hmmm gold digger prank yaya call my aliens from mars and tell them to get the gold

hmmmm idkkkk. update ko lang sa life rn may bebe na me. karlo is his name. he's a nice guy. takes me out (not as a hitman) occasionally. I like how he treats me; he gives me freedom. And it only means he trusts me very well. I dont have any idea where he gets the energy to trust me, but that's how it goes. Kinda shocking ba na may bebe na me hihi kakasabi ko lang sa las entry ko na ayoko maging taken GAGI tapos here i am parang clown. Pero anyways, masarap lang din sa feeling na may nakakaappreciate sayo nang ganun. Tho we just met palang and since day 1 of that meeting him personally, magkalandian na kami agad AHSDHAHDHA kasi sa chat di naman kami nag flirt in any way usap lang lagi. And di ko rin sya feel non sa chat kasi parang ang kulit na ewan, pero LOOK AT ME. So ayon naglaplapan kami the other other week pa. Make out game strongk naman kahit papano pero man his hands ... they long asffff. Anyway ayon I asked for a hickey, gave me one, and the next morning I was scolded by mom lmfao WAS FUNNY TBH BECAUSE i didnt even try to hide it. And my tito also saw it he was like "ano yang nasa neck mo? bat may pasa" and i was like "ah hehe yung ano kasi yung necklace" AHASDHHADHASH AND MOM WAS THERE SHE WAS LIKE "yung necklace nya nagtala sa pagtulog nya *sips coffee bites bread* HAHAHAHHAHAHA OMFG but later on when we went to camalig she noticed it was a real hickey and yeah I got scolded because Im so pasaway daa. Anyways LOVE YOU MOM UWU! HEHE. So ayon nga ayoko na magpromis na maglolog in ako dito daily kasi di naman natutupad. Pero kahapon kwento ko lang mars nagsakay ako sa big bike GARA PAREH as in lahat nakatingin sa tormots nung kasama ko. Nameet ko lang din sa bumble tho tig vibe check ko man sya for several weeks. And sya rin kausap ko nung time na suicidal ako so goods naman. Ok naman sya may dead air lang kaso sometimes baka nagkakahiyaan and stuff. nilibre nya ako ng milk tea, AND HAHA KASI ang weirdt tho nagtanggal ako mask. Di ako usually natanggal mask, heck si jeff na bff q never pa ako nakita personally na walang mask HAHAHAHA Anw ayon was fun tho napa Holy Mary ako habang nakasakay sa likod niya. Kasi first of all the ride was bumpy, second of all the seat was small ASS!!! and walang hawakan sa likod. Anyway people were staing hihi I DO LOVE ATTENTION! I was wearing a tank top, cargo pants, combat boots, and on top of it all I had a tatt on my arm. DAMN SHAWDDIE @ ME. LOL. Loved the temporary feeling of royalty. Gara ba naman ng motor. It was green and black in color and it was a cool ass expensive motor !! it was worth 300k+ if irc. ANW ayun had fun naman. Tho I mostly did it so that I would stray from depression but I am still depressed. I have to do something about it INTERNALLY and deal with it with myself. And stop going out with people as a shortcut to heal the depression. But anw ayun I am glad there are people that go out with me because I am sad. Plus I am grateful Karlo allows me to go out with my other friends despite that they are guys. Man that guy trusts me so much, I will not break it. Anyways he's a nice guy, but at the same time you cant have it all yk. I dont like it when he walks ahead of me just cause he has longer legs and bikes, but we can work on that. Anyways, people underestimate people on bumble. Some guys don't look like it but theyre actually rich. First example i have is AJ. he aint lookin rich man. If anything, he looks like he smokes 8 packs a day. But I was wrong he actually smokes 9. CHAROT. Mans was like teasing me most of the time and I GOT PISSED SO I FIRED BACK. but days passed he sent me 1.3k--- LIKE WHAT FOR WHAT????? I was mean yet he knew I needed something to cheer me up and HE SENT MONEY?? WHO THE FUCK SENDS 1.3K AHAHAHHAHAH SHET GANDALANGTALAGAMINSANMARS Then the other one I met just yesterday was dustin. He goes to school at UST manila and he treated me outside too. He owns the 300k motor BUT TELL YOU WHAT HE AINT LOOKIN RICH ON HIS PROFILE. If anything, I wouldnt swipe right tbh but apprarently, I did. So lesson here is dont judge people by their looks,

actually try to have a conversation with them, and treat them fairly and not be mean just because its online. Also, mostly the goodlooking ones on these dating apps are the asshole ones lmfao. Tho there are guys who look like literal shit and are assholes too. Lol anyway the third one is Karlo which I started seeing a month ago. I met up with him because I was visiting Naga temporarily and then I got bored. Supposedly I would meet up with miki because we were talking for sometime already but he was not making things happen so I just grabbed whoever was available that time and it was Karlo. Was hesitant at first, because I didnt match the vibe he had online and was too makulit for me. But to my surprise on our very first meeting, he picked me up with a fortuner. I thought he'd bring a clanky ass car or somn when he said he'd borrow from his father. Anw, was nervous when I entered the car because I was unfamiliar with the person and it was sinking into me that it could be my last day on earth. So I was like yeah he might have a car yada yada yada didnt pay much attention just yet. So we went to this field apparently people call it naga view. not much too see just overlooking the city. IT WAS A DAMN FIELD!!!!!! IDK WTD BUT HE TOOK ME THERE I WAS READY TO FIGHT FOR MY LIFE I HAD A CUTTER WITH MEEE anways.... was fun date. we had to return the car by 3 we were kinda late. so we went to his house was a nice house it had an office. was then again surprised to see a signange with their surname on it and it entailed they had a realty firm. And also turns out they own a damn resort. bro. both of his parents are engineers and are real estate brokers. and it ain even show on the pfffppp man people on bumble really be keeping it lowkey. Pero yeah he isnt rich, his parents are. that makes him a rich kid. But anw di ko naman habol money ew im not like that. I may like free stuf, but I dont chase people for money unless theyre my client or if i lent money lmfao. Just surprises me how people be rich. like damn his bike is like 130k...... man what in the wealth.... also theres zef. another good friend of mine. his dads a lawyer. idk but they seem rich plus his bike costs 65k...... thats cheper than karlos but like........... yall underestimate bikers too. man they RICH. tho you can get budget bikes but idk how youll keep up with guys that has feather weight expensive ass bikes that they hoist up single handedly LMAO. eat the rich. anyways i guess this is what this entry is all about. Me making kwento about people that are rich. I will get rich soon too. I know God will help us get what we deserve after all that losing, it is time to win. <3333

[firstkkhao]

the fact that oat didnt r*ped/had sex with pop... damn right wtd thank you for not putting such a stupid thing in the series.

and maybe i like oat since the beggining bc he is cool. and bc he answers me in instagram. cheers oatpop cheers and boooo preepop booo

[jerzwriter]

October - December: 32 Fics Written - 5 COP, 24 OH, 3 WTD (More stats below break)

Ⓜ️= Mature Content/18+ | 🔥= NSFW 🏳️‍🌈 = LGTBQ | 🦄 = Bi Awareness Month 🌟 = Holidays 📱 = Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Art Commissions

October 2023

CRIMES OF PASSION

First Date

Tricks and Treats 

OPEN HEART

Ethan x Kaycee

Feeling Ancient 📱

Housecalls

A Very Scary Halloween

Tobias x Casey

In a Pickle -

Roman Adventure 📱

On the Spot 🎨 - @/artbyainna (IG)

Pumpkin Love

Better Luck Next Year 📱

Like it's 1989... 📱🏳️‍🌈[Tobias Carrick (x Casey), Jensen Valentine (x Bryce)] Jensen belongs to @mydemonsdrivealimo

Casey x Jessica (F!OC)

Trepidation 🏳️‍🌈🦄

WAKE THE DEAD

The End of the World (Series) Ⓜ️[Eli Sipes] Part 2: The Very End

The Last Goodbye Ⓜ️[Eli and David Sipes] 🎨 by @rosefuckinggenius

November 2023

CRIMES OF PASSION

Rollercoaster

OPEN HEART

Casey x Jessica (F!OC)

A Bit Dark 🏳️‍🌈

Ethan x Kaycee

Improvision

Tobias x Casey

Upon Arrival [Feat: Jackie Varma]

Contrast [AU]🏳️‍🌈 [Feat: Bryce x Olivia, Ethan x Merica] Olivia belongs to @storyofmychoices Merida belongs to @lilyoffandoms

Caught in the Act Ⓜ️🔥 🎨 by @/artbyainna (IG)

December 2023:

CRIMES OF PASSION

New Traditions 🏳️‍🌈🌟

A Sparkling Holiday🌟

OPEN HEART

Casey x Jessica (F!OC)

I've Got You 🏳️‍🌈 🎨 by @rosefuckinggenius

Ethan x Kaycee

Turning Red: A Holiday Tale 🌟

OH Friends

Easy as Pie 🌟[Aurora/Jackie/Sienna/Bryce]

Not a Valentine 🏳️‍🌈| Casey x Jensen [Jensen belongs to @mydemonsdrivealimo]

Tobias x Casey

From Here to There (Series) Just Passing By One Step

All Is Merry & Bright 🏳️‍🌈🌟[Feat: Bryce x Jensen, Vivian Carrick, Jordan Carrick] Jensen belongs to @mydemonsdrivealimo 🎨by @rosefuckinggenius

A Little Holiday Cheer 🌟[Feat Bryce x Olivia, Ethan x Merida] Olivia belongs to @storyofmychoices Merida belongs to @lilyoffandoms 🎨 by @/artbyainna (IG)

Falling for You 🌟 🎨 by @weetlebeetle

WAKE THE DEAD

A Touch of Magic 🌟[Eli x Zoe, Troy]

32 Fics

14 October / 6 November / 12 December

5 Crimes of Passion / 24 Open Heart / 3 Wake the Dead

14 Tobias x Casey / 5 Trystan x Carolina / 2 OH Friends 5 Ethan x Kaycee / 3 Casey x Jess / 1 Eli x Zoe / 2 Eli Sipes

Guest Stars!

2 Olivia @storyofmychoices 2 Merida @lilyoffandoms 2 Jensen @mydemonsdrivealimo

7 Commissions

5 Tobias x Casey / 1 Ethan x Kaycee / 1 Casey x Jess