#DO YOU MEAN. QUESADILLAS

[10thingsihateabout-all-yall]

the only reason I have ever backed out of a restaurant as fast as possible is price. $14 quesadilla? should be the cheapest thing on the menu, I'm out. $22 chicken pho? zip, gone, hope the place burns down. $12 for hashbrown and eggs? you sicken me

[floral-hex]

“I’m going to stay up all night, fix my sleep schedule, and maybe actually work on music for once.”

Instead, spends hours trying to make an almost decade old laptop not run like it’s about to die 😬

[fairytsuk1]

a sense of belonging | (s)

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: sexual content, loss of virginity, dry humping, p-in-v, vanilla sex, missionary, protected sex, pre-established relationship

request: like, imagine reader and Alex having their first time together, like, both of them losing their virginity together

You weren’t expecting anything. That’s what you tried to remind yourself; it was a date like any other. No expectations. Alex was your long-term boyfriend, and you trusted him! You could remember flashing adoring eyes at him across the lunch hall when the two of you were young, his cheese quesadilla stretching to the table as he laughed with his friends.

He was smaller back then, a bit nerdy-looking to some, but perfect to you. You loved looking at him. You always had. 

Alex grins, teeth shining as music permeates the still quiet. He looks perfect today as you sit comfortably on his bed. Your lip gets caught between your teeth as your eyes rake over his black, wispy strands of hair, contrasting with his rosy lips in a way that makes your thighs squeeze together. You must look away, cheeks hot as your man settles next to you. 

“Is Mac Miller okay?”

Alex breaks your reverie, nudging your side with his elbow. You nod eagerly as you try not to get ahead of yourself. 

“You know I love him too.”

“Right! You get it,” Alex hesitates. “You look really beautiful right now.”

Your boyfriend sits next to you, and you can feel his body heat radiating towards you. His tone is aching with sincerity as he speaks; it makes your eyes well with tears. A hot rush of warmth courses through your veins, “thanks, ‘lex. You look really good, too.”

Your fingers graze his bicep as you compliment him, and you can feel the goosebumps that prickle his caramel skin. When your eyes meet his once more, they look a little more hooded and have a little more intent. It makes your clit pulse with need, and you know you’re soaking your panties.

“Thanks… hey, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you murmur, “so much!”

Neither of you realizes how close your faces are, but your expressions reflect the same desire. Fuck me. 

Alex swallows, brown eyes staring into yours for so long that it feels like forever. 

“… Can I kiss you?”

The confirmation you utter is both whiny and breathless. Alex’s lips capture yours in a passionate kiss, and there’s a sense of urgency behind his movements when he settles a warm hand on your knee. 

A saliva string connects the two of you when you break apart, “Alex…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m ready to… You know,” you start to laugh, your head falling into his chest, and he smiles at you. “You know what I mean.”

“I know, baby,” Alex pecks your forehead with a gentle kiss.

He’s not the boy he used to be. He’s a man now, the way he settles a gentle hand on your waist. Not only that, but he’s more confident now too, and it is so fucking sexy. You nearly purr when Alex helps you lay down against his soft bedsheets. They smell like him, some cologne he’d bought and insisted you smell. Do you like it? He asked with a soft smile. You had.

The way he kisses is heavenly, soft lips colliding against your own with an eagerness replicated in his grabby hands. You’d had heated make-out sessions before, but it’s different, the way you accommodate him between your legs with pouty lips.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs into your neck. “We don’t have to rush or anything…”

“I’m okay,” you assure with swollen lips. “I promise, let’s keep going. Unless you don’t want to! We can also stop–”

Alex kisses you again. His tongue slides wetly against your bottom lip, intertwining with yours in a sticky, hot kiss.

“I wanna keep going.”

Your moan is loud and embarrassing, and you shrink at Alex’s gleeful face. To you, it feels so lewd to cry out when he sucks a hickey on your neck, but your boyfriend feels differently based on how he grinds desperately against you.

“You’re really hot when you moan like that,” and he fucking shudders.

Something inside you burns hot and bright as his words, “Well, I want you to fuck me. C-Can’t help but moan when you’re touching me like that.”

It comes out as a light whisper but triggers a deep magnetic pull in Alex’s chest. He can’t help it, he wants you so badly, and here you are presented like a breathtaking present, ready to take his thick cock inch by inch till he’s balls deep inside of you. 

“Yeah, well, I need you…!”

Alex breathes into your neck as you grind up against him. He’s so weak for you, nearly trembling. You’re not unshaken, either, clit rubbing just right against his bulge. You can feel how hard he is against you, and it's so fucking sexy. 

His hands skim the bottom of your shirt, soft eyes asking for permission. You give a shy nod, and his hands give way to bare skin, “Jesus.”

“…What?”

“You’re just so beautiful. Seriously! I feel so grateful right now, being here with you.”

A ball of emotion wells in your throat as he slowly reveals the softness of your tummy and then your nude bra. You start to feel flustered as he takes a confident move to grope your tits, feeling them squish under his fingertips as you squirm. Alex kisses you again with lips that soothe like a balm. He pushes the cups down to leave you nearly naked, and he’s breathless at the sight.

“Wow, they’re really… I mean, seeing you like this is…”

“Sexy? Hot?”

“Yeah, exactly. All of that,” he kisses your jaw wetly before coming eye to eye with your hardening nipples, taking one into his warm mouth with a hum.

“Oh, fuck me, Alex. Be careful, ‘m so sensiti–ooh!”

He doesn’t even speak as he rolls your nub on his tongue, loud, wet noises echoing in the wake of your whimpers. Your hands tangle into his hair as you unconsciously pull him closer; the both of you writhe as if trying to mold your bodies into one. Alex sucks a hickey on the bottom of your breast and then pulls away proudly, “what do you think?”

It’s half to check in on you and half on him. You look at his eager-for-praise face for a second before grinning and pulling him close by his shoulders.

“I think… you’re really good at this.”

“You flatter me too much,” he croons into your chest whilst laying sloppy kisses on the column of your chest. “You just drive me wild, babe. I can’t explain it. You make me wanna do all these things…”

He pauses as he reaches the button of your shorts, giving you a careful eye as he settles more comfortably above you. You don’t mind undressing further, but you’re starting to feel curious about what’s under his black shirt and shorts. Manicured nails lightly scratch his bare stomach as you slowly push the cotton upwards, his breath stuttering as you move inch by inch. You’ve seen him before but hadn’t had the chance to see him until now.

It’s obvious he’s nervous as he pulls the shirt over his mussed hair. He kneels between your legs quietly as you take in the firmness of his pecks, how his nipples pebble under your thumb. You end up in his lap with him flat on his back, open, pliant, ready to be devoured. Your hips rock against his effortlessly as your hands glide over his chest and abs, feeling every breath inhaled into his lungs.

Alex’s rib cage expands and caves under your touch. He’s shy enough to keep quiet purposefully, but every other rock of your hips lets aching whimpers flow out of him. He was so noisy. It made you feel dizzy with power and want as you touched him.

“B-Babe, I, uhngh, wait,” and you pause immediately with worried eyes. 

“I just, fuck, I needed to calm down,” he pants with eyes closed and bruising fingers on your hips, “any longer, and I would’ve–haha.”

The two of you laugh at the thought, but it leaves an indelible mark of love in your heart, thinking of how Alex is so deeply attracted to you. The mark grows into a phrase that just can’t be held back anymore, and you resist his hand strength to drag your hips over the length of his dick over and over—

“I need you inside me, ‘lex. I need to feel you fuck me, please? I’m so wet, I wanna know what you feel like,” your mewls leave him scrambling to unbutton your jeans. “Always finger myself thinking of you, imagining its you. Do you… think of me?”

“God, of course I do. You’re the only one I am thinking of,” his head tilts back, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Can’t wait anymore, baby.”

It comes mumbled out as a sigh, but you’re nearing the end of your rope as your panties stick lewdly to your pussy. Alex whines as you pull away to lay flat on your back; you grin up at him as you loosely hold the backs of your thighs.

“Are you just gonna stare, or are you gonna do somethin’ about it?”

“Shut up.”

He pins you down with a bruising kiss, and remember just how much Alex loves to be in control. You can feel it in how he insistently tugs on your panties, snapping them against your flesh, just to see it turn flushed. Tenderizing you, making you ripe for his picking as the meat of his hand pushes your thighs further back.

It seemed like he knew what he was doing, and you knew your sloppy pussy was drooling. Your thoughts were confirmed as he rubbed the flat of his thumb against your swollen clit, neglected and begging for his touch.

“She wants me, so wet, I really wanna taste you,” Alex rambles as a forefinger dips slightly into you before pulling back. “You know you look good, right? You have’ta know, babe, ‘cause I’m always saying it.”

Alex lays a gentle kiss on the inner bend of your knee. Featherlight and loving.

“I always want to show it,” he practically purrs as thick fingers deftly untie his bottoms. “I’m always thinking such… dirty thoughts when it comes to you. What can I say? You’re my favorite girl.”

You’re quaking as his voice strikes every nerve on the dot. Your legs fall and close in on themselves as you tremble, core swirling white-hot with arousal. Every nerve wants to keel over itself and just obey him. 

“You’re making me flustered,” you grumble as he pumps his cock.

It’s so hard not to stare at how his hips twitch every thump of his fist against his navel. It’s even harder not to ask him to fuck you raw for every bead of precum that spills over his knuckles like syrup. 

“I like you flustered. All loving and cute.”

The two of you are quiet aside from the desperate hiss that emerges as you feel his head just barely push against you. You know it’ll sting and that’s the nerve-racking part, but Alex intertwines your hands and pecks the corner of your mouth.

“We’ll go slow, yeah?”

“Yeah, just be gentle, okay?”

“Of course, baby,” he kisses your shoulder and rubs his nose against your jaw. “Whatever you want. It’s just you and me.”

He lets you hold his gaze as long as you need to, breathing shallowing as you remember all your reassurances: Alex loves you, Alex would never hurt you, Alex is your soulmate.

The last one leaves a warm rush of confidence, thrumming down your vertebrae. Your brain gives you a rush of endorphins, and you’re kissing Alex’s pink lips to say, “I’m ready.”

Your boyfriend nods and sighs heavily on his haunches. His dick sits thick and leaking. It’s so lewd how his hand grips the base, and he shudders from the barest pull of his fist. Alex’s eyes admire your sloppy pussy, and he can barely look away as he pats for a condom.

His teeth look animalistic, ripping the foil. His hands look even stronger and skilled as he starts to roll the condom on, and you feel intimacy call your name as you sit up to come close. All you can hear are the soft sounds of your needy breaths as you both roll the latex down his sensitive flesh.

“T-Thanks,” he murmurs with a blush crawling up his neck. “Lay back for me, hermosa.”

Your hole clenches around nothing, and you try to keep your hips from canting towards his, but it’s useless. Alex pushes the tip against you, eyes raking over your form as he squeezes your hand before moving forward. There’s a hot pinch of pain and your eyes automatically squeeze in tears, “‘m sorry, baby. Let me know when I can keep going, mhm?”

Alex sucks your nipple into his warm, inviting mouth, and you let out a pleasured sob. God, it feels so fucking good, and every shift has him moving an inch deeper every single time. Slowly, he fills you to the brim till you’re stuffed full and making grabby hands for him.

“Ohmygod, ngh, ‘lex, feels so good!”

“Fuck, you feel–fuck–so good, babe.”

There’s a wet clicking sound that echoes in your ears as Alex rolls his hips. He’s slow at first, heavy cock dragging down and splitting you apart before fucking himself back into you with a haggard groan. You mewl, fingers digging into pliable skin, when he angles his hips up and hits right there.

It’s so sloppy how your arousal sticks to both of you. Sticky strings keep you nice and wet as Alex grinds himself against you, tip kissing you so deep you arch back and sob out, “you’re fucking me so good, ‘lex. Ohgod, you’re so deep; I-I can feel you here…”

You can barely think straight as tears spring to your eyes. Alex is hardly holding himself together as he hones in on the way your walls greedily suck him in to slide home deep in your cunt. A creamy ring of white coats his base, and he lets out a shuddering wail, his hips jerking wildly and his eyes scrunching closed.

God, you and your pussy were fucking ravishing him. 

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, I love you, baby,” his lip trembles as his hand clumsily squeezes your breast. “I love you so much, love how you can take me like this–ohfuck, I’m getting close.”

It’s obvious that Alex is losing it because his eyes roll back, and his moans grow higher, pitched, and needy. You feel it, too. Your hand comes down to rub tight circles on your clit, both you and Alex rippling and grinding desperately to reach your peak. His lips pant against your sweaty skin before giving you a loving kiss, “I want you to cum with me, please, can you?”

Both your mind and pussy are delirious, with only one thought coursing through you: AlexAlexAlex! You sniffle, hands scratching delicate flesh as you pull him close, walls clenching around him as if trying to fuse him with you. 

“Oh! Alex, I’m so–feeling like I'm gonna cum,” you warble desperately, practically shaking like a wild animal as Alex talks you through it. “Fuckfuck, I’m gonna cum, ‘lex!”

The neighbors must be infuriated as your mouth opens into an “O” to let out a cry of pleasure. You don’t even realize you’re begging Alex until he sighs deeply into your ear, “fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Shit!”

His balls slap against your ass as he groans, hips tilting forward as he spills into the condom and fills it. It’s blissful warmth that leaves stray tears falling down your cheeks as you chase his lips for more. Alex shudders at your gummy walls as they spasm and milk him for all he’s worth. Alex rocks into you to ride out your highs, softening and letting you both come to.

Pulling out, your boyfriend is immediately leveling face-to-face with you. Alex goes to speak, but you have no time for words as you pull him deep into a kiss. He adjusts to your wants easily as he rests on his forearms and pulls you close. It’s tender. His fingertips brush so softly against your skin like they weren’t just making indents on the backs of your thighs.

“Like, wow,” he murmurs, hot and sweaty against your lips. “You’re everything I’ve wanted and more, seriously, mi amor.”

“Stoppp,” you’re too shy to do anything but simper at him.

Alex kisses you again, and then squeezes your hip. He doesn’t need to say much. You both knew.

“Hey, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You hadn’t been expecting anything. But, of course, Alex surpassed your expectations in every which way.

[carolmunson]

almost fell into that hole in your life.

orange colored sky set list.

older!modern!eddie x thirties!reader summary: ficlet. you haven't been acting like yourself these days and eddie notices. unfortunately for you, eddie can't help but wanna make you feel better. tw: implied depressed reader, alcohol mention. implied praise kink if you squint really hard? still 18+ tho! songspiration: black balloon | the goo goo dolls

Eddie doesn't like it when things are too quiet, it makes him hear the static in his brain -- gets too aware. He can hear his eyes blink, the sound of his breath, so when you've been clammed up on the couch all night on your phone he can't help but start to make noise.

"Babe," he says from the kitchen, "Do you want me to make quesadillas or something? I have some shredded chicken I wanted to use up."

"Hm," you respond. He barely hears it, padding his way over in his 'house slides' that you like to tease him about. Such an old man.

"I was thinking quesadillas and I can make some margs, would you like that?" he asks, standing at the end of the couch. The way you're laying on your side, eyes glazed over, is enough to let him know that you haven't heard a word he's said for the last hour. Just scrolling with with a glassy look, numbing yourself ten times over.

"Peach," he says, albiet little sharply, "Are you listening to me?"

"Hmm, no way, that's wild," you respond, a zombie in his midst -- replying just to reply, to fake like you're hearing him. Eddie bites his tongue and then his cheeks to sting the frustration out.

"Hey," he says again, ringed hand reaching down to squeeze your chenille blanket covered thigh, "You hearin' me?"

You finally look up and see his face and the world around you comes into view. In your trance, the world outside had become night, the TV was off, you weren't even sure how much time had passed since you plopped yourself under Eddie's blanket on the sectional in his livingroom.

"Yeah," you squeak out, heart racing because you can tell he's disappointed, "Y-yeah I'm hearing you."

"Then what did I just say, huh?" he doesn't sound mad, or accusatory. Worse, he sounds disheartened. And even worse of worse, he sounds worried.

"Um...it was about um, you were asking about food," you try to answer confidently, and you know it was food adjacent, but you aren't sure.

"Do you want me to make quesadillas?" he asks again, "I have some chicken I wanna use up and I got all the stuff for 'em."

"Yeah," you nod, "Yeah that sounds nice."

"You wanna come help me?" he asks, "I can make us some drinks while we work."

"Uh," you start, that familiar pull tugging in your chest -- laying down feels good, getting lost back in your phone will feel better. It's so comfortable to hide under his chenille blanket and tune out. It feels better like that.

"Please?" You hesitate again, but you're not fast enough to redirect Eddie's attention, and it's then that he catches it in your eyes. The ache. He comes around the the front of the couch to sit in the divot of your thighs and chest, hand moving from your thigh to your shoulder. "What's goin' on?" his low voice twangs at your chest.

"Nothing," you urge, but your voice is too high and so are your eye brows. He doesn't believe you for a second.

"I don't like when you lie to me, peach," he confesses, "Don't lie to me, please."

"Psh, okay dad," you tease, trying to lighten the mood while you get up.

"I'm not kidding with you," Eddie's timbre keeps you in place, "I'm not playing around, babe. What's goin' on with you? You've been -- y'know -- you've been really I dunno -- inward this week. I'm missin' you."

"I'm okay," you urge again, but now you're too quiet. You don't mean it. He raises his brows and blinks at you in disbelief.

"I promise, I'm okay," you continue, "I'll be okay. It's fine. I'm fine."

"You're not making a great case for yourself." "Well then it's a good thing I'm not a lawyer," you joke again. He doesn't buy it.

"You're sad, baby," he tells you, reaching up to hold your cheek in his palm, "Why can't you just tell me? It's okay that you're sad."

"I'm not!" you try to say cheerily again, but the words get stuck in yout throat -- eyes stinging with wetness after hours of being open.

"I'm not sad," you say breathlessly, choking on the lie while a tear sneaks its way onto your lash line.

"Oh, sugar," he coos while you try to tread the water of your feelings -- flailing to keep your head above the pain in your chest.

"No, no, I'm okay -- I'm fine!" but you're starting to cry now and it kills him. Before you know it, he's made his way under the chenille blanket with you, nose to nose.

"Hey, hey, it's okay if you're not fine," he coaches you through your deep breaths while you try to guide yourself out of a full blown sob, "You can tell me. I'm here. I'm here, okay?"

"I'm sorry," your voice becoming a wraith of itself.

"Don't be sorry," he presses himself against you, enough so that you can feel the pressure of him and the pressure of the back of the couch on both sides, "Just talk to me."

"I don't..." you shrug, "I don't have anything to say."

"Just sad?" he asks, you feel an arm snake around you between your back and the the couch, pressing your chest to his. You nod, it feels pathetic, but you're cornered now and there's no use in arguing with someone who was born to win every argument he's ever had.

"Yeah," you mumble weakly, "Yeah, I'm sad. Think I'm more than sad."

He nods, his demeanor softening to something gentle -- heart reaching out to yours with caution like you'll run away, "Yeah, honey I can tell. You really haven't been actin' like yourself these days."

"I just don't wanna bother you," you confess, the brick coming off your chest, "I always get over it, I don't wanna like -- bum you out if it's not like...if it's not a big deal."

"I don't care if it's a big deal or a little deal," his heart bleeds for you while he speaks, "I don't care if you're gonna be over it in fiteen minutes. When you're hurtin' like this -- babe you gotta tell me. You gotta talk to me. Or else how're we gonna make this work?"

"It's just not important."

Eddie can tell that you mean it when you say it; he's never felt more frustrated with whoever convinced you that this was true.

"It's super important to me," he encourages, "Your shit is like, top of my list babe."

"Top of your list?" you crack a weak smile.

"You think the first person I think of when I wake up and the last person I think of when I go to sleep isn't on the top of my priority list?"

"Okay, well now you're doing to much, Ed," your face scrunches in the way that he loves, not letting you totally get out of his hold yet while you try to squirm away.

"Hey, look at me, before you get up," he cups your cheek again, gently, your eyes meeting his brown ones. Eddie leans in for a kiss, a soft reminder that he's not going anywhere anytime soon -- not that you'd want him to. Not with lips like that.

When you break away, his nose nuzzles yours, coasting up to press another gentle kiss on the center of your forehead. Long and intentional, warm enough to get you to close your eyes.

"It's gonna be okay," he assures, "It's okay if you're not, but -- I gotcha until you're feelin' better, hm?"

You nod, sniffling snottily and wiping your wet cheek.

"I am ordering us quesadillas," he whispers, stealing another kiss from you, "Because if you're going to rot on my couch, I'm gonna make you rot next to me."

"We're rotting!" you cheer half heartedly, pouting when he gets up to get his phone for take out. When he finishes, he holds his hand out and you sheepishly put your hand in his.

Eddie curls bounce when he shakes his head, "Peach, you know what I'm asking for."

"No," you frown, "I need it to rot."

"Peach...please?" it's more of a warning than a question, and you slide your phone into his hand. He doesn't check it, but he knows that if you don't have it 'locked away' in his sweats pocket for a while you'll just end up zoning out the same way you did before.

"Thanks, sugar," he smirks, "You're so good."

Your cheeks burn at the priase, rolling your eyes with a grin that cracks against your features, "Don't. We're not doing anything sexy."

"Yeah I know," he shrugs innocently, finding his way next to you again, "But when you smile like that, who am I to deny you a lil' somethin'?"

He dims the lights in the open space from the remote on the coffee table, settling in while you make yourself comfortable in his side. Eddie keeps you close on nights like this, when he knows you're on unsteady ground. You're still quiet, but the start of another Twilight Zone marathon keeps you more alert than before. With steady breaths you start to relax in what he'd deem a healthier way than before, and the quiet doesn't make his brain too fuzzy this time around. In the still of the living room and the hum of Rod Serlings voice, he feels you squeeze his hand -- a silent thank you. He doesn't think he could be any more in love.

[concorp]

new hidden messages in the qsmp.global code from the website dev! translations using google translate, as they're in several different languages. J'ai vu vos questions ! Je vais répondre à quelques unes d'entre elles ! Je m'excuse d'avance si tout le monde n'a pas eu la réponse qu'il voulait :( (I saw your questions! I'll answer a few of them! I apologize in advance if everyone didn't get the answer they wanted :() QUESTION 1: Pra que esconder mensagem secreta até no código fonte? (QUESTION 1: Is your secret message uncoded?) Porque é divertido! E encontramo-los sempre, e é muito fixe! (Because it's fun! And we always find them, and it's really cool!) QUESTION 2: Who's been writing messages in the source code? It's me!! QUESTION 3: Chilaquiles rojos o verdes? Es importante (QUESTION 3: Red or green chilaquiles? Is important) V E R D E (G R E E N) QUESTION 4 : Quién nos está hablando? Mr Duck? Cucurucho? (QUESTION 4: Who is speaking to us? Mr Duck? Cucurucho?) Jaja ninguna de las anteriores! Cucurocho no se molesta en hacer eso, es más el que me da instrucciones! (Haha none of the above! Cucurocho doesn't bother to do that, he's more the one who gives me instructions!) QUESTION 5: Quem é você? (QUESTION 5: Who are you?) Sou um programador web! Gosto de dar o meu melhor nos sites que crio e estou muito contente por poder falar consigo! (I'm a web programmer! I like to do my best on the websites I create and I'm very happy to be able to talk to you!) QUESTION 6: Por onde você esteve por todo esse tempo? (QUESTION 6: Where have you been all this time?) Estava a descansar! Também passei as férias de Natal e recebi uns chinelos lindos :) (I was resting! I also spent the Christmas holidays and received some beautiful slippers :)) QUESTION 7: What's inside the eggs? I think you already know the answer to that one, don't you? :) QUESTION 8: I would like something interesting, something only the most dedicated QSMP Viewer will know and understand. "Something that only a true QSMP fan would know? Noted :) QUESTION 9 : Quelle est la signification des codes traduits en césar de "hibiscus" et "rabbit" ? (QUESTION 9: What is the meaning of the codes translated into Caesar for “hibiscus” and “rabbit”?) Je pense que tu sauras pourquoi bientôt :) (I think you'll know why soon :)) QUESTION 10 : Pourquoi vouloir détruire l'île Quesadilla? (QUESTION 10: Why want to destroy Quesadilla Island?) Mais pourquoi je voudrais faire ça !? L'île Quesadilla est un berceau de beauté et de bonheur pour nos résidents ! Je ne leur souhaite que le meilleur ! (But why would I want to do that!? Quesadilla Island is a cradle of beauty and happiness for our residents! I wish them nothing but the best!) QUESTION 11: What is your objective? My goal is to make sure that the people who come to the websites I make have a good time, and that it helps them to forget the worries they may be going through! Et voilà ! Je m'excuse encore si j'ai manqué des réponses, merci encore une fois de votre implication, et prenez soin de vous ! (And There you go ! I apologize again if I missed any answers, thank you once again for your involvement, and take care!) See you soon!

[thelampisaflashlight]

Dew, laying on the couch: "...Hey, Rain?" Rain, sitting in the chair across from him: "Yes?" Dew, tilting his head to look at him directly: "Could you slap two tortillas together with some cheese and stick it in the microwave for me, please?" Rain: "...You want two tortillas with cheese?" Dew: "Ye." Rain, getting up: "I could make you an actual quesadilla if you want, it's not that hard." Dew, blinking: "...You'd do that for me?" Rain: "I mean, yeah, it's not that-Why are you crying?!" Dew: "I dunno! I just feel loved or maybe it's gas-"

[pixiecaps]

Heres a portion of Maxo’s ending monologue and some meta commentary.

q!Maxo: And what if I stay? At least they won’t have that planned out. How can I be so stupid? Of course, they know about the bomb. They literally know everything, see everything, its an all seeing eye, of course. They already knew about my plan.. But there’s a plan they don’t know. And it’s that I’m going to stay here. It’s over. Besides, I’m a danger to everybody, I’m turning into a code. I know now that I’m not the only one but at least it’ll be one less, right? It’s the desperation of not being able to do anything against the Federation. They always get away with it, man. They always get what they want. I don’t- I don’t know why I’m even still walking. … They’ve taken my bomb and stolen my idea and now they’re exploding it. They don’t care. At least, we found a way to escape. (Timer runs out)

cc!Maxo: (Closes game) And like that is how he dies. “Are you coming back as a ghost?” As of right now I am not thinking about returning as a ghost. (Plays sad music) Rest in peace qMaxo. Rest in fucking peace. I did all I could chat. I did all I could. … If I had reached the boat I would not have gotten on. I think what I would’ve wanted is to reach the boat, say goodbye to everybody, and die. But I suppose due to the timer the bomb blew up before that could happen. … So I’ve died. That is how it goes. This was the only thing I could do that the Federation could really not control. Killing myself.

cc!Maxo: (When a chatter mentioned the people who didn’t reach the boat) Chat I only know that I’ve died, it’s what I wanted for my lore. That I would’ve stayed there with the atomic bomb. In a fantasy world like the QSMP, of course I could revive, finally turn into a code, or whatever but for the moment all I know is that I’m dead. And I don’t have anything else scripted, from this moment on I’m dead and thats final. Thats the reality, and thats why I’m not… happy because I will for sure miss the QSMP. But since I personally take roleplay very seriously, for me there is no going back. I am dead. I cannot return as cubito Maxo. I can return as a spirit that haunts Roier once in a while, periodically, I could, I could but qMaxo is dead. It’s sad, I’m not super happy because obviously I spent a really great time on QSMP but by my own lore, man, I couldn’t do it any longer. I couldn’t handle returning to Quesadilla Island knowing I couldn’t do anything against the Federation. If I made a fucking atomic bomb and the boss of Purgatory goes and says, “Oh you have an atomic bomb? Okay. In fact, that’s a good idea. Let’s explode it, run to the boat, returning again to the island that you were in, because thats likely what will happen, and you’ll continue suffering.” I can’t do it anymore. I’ve lost Trump, my son, I’ve lost- I no longer trust people who can kill each other amongst themselves, by the lore.

cc!Maxo: The players themselves are super fun people and I’ve had a good time. What makes me feel shame is that, that I can’t roleplay with them anymore. To say it one way or another. Well, there could be things in the future the admins offer but as a player it makes me feel shame. Also, while it is true that recently I hadn’t been logging in a lot, the times I did I had a good time. I did a lot of cool things with these people.

cc!Maxo: I lost SOFIA, I lost.. everything. Everything that I’ve done, every idea that I had thought of for myself and others has been taken by the Federation. … I think that the Federation has so much control that is impossible to do anything against them. And everything you do against them they’ll use to further confuse the people. … For me I will no longer play [as qMaxo] because I am dead, that’s serious to me, I’ve decided my character has died in an explosion. Another thing is that I could occasionally log on as a spirit or something. If they allow me that then great! But if dying means not being able to play on the QSMP anymore then so be it. … This was necessary for the roleplay. … I didn’t die thinking, “Wow I found the answer.” I didn’t want to die because I found any type of answer. I died because of desperation. To say, look man I couldn’t find any answers.

Maxo mentioned it did leave him with a sour taste in his mouth that he didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to everybody since he ran out of time. So a chatter suggested he does canonical pre recording goodbye video to everybody. He said he’d likely consider it and do it so that his character gets the chance to tell the other characters goodbye and that he’s gone.

Rest in peace qMaxo, the original founder of the Theory Bros, and someone who gave his all to escaping the island no matter the cost.

[littleseasalt]

TRANSCRIBED TRANSLATION OF FOREVER'S TAPE

"Hello everyone. If you're watching this, this means I'm gone. Cucurucho said we had an important meeting, and I think it has something to do with the eggs... I really don't trust that asshole, and that's why I left this message with Pac. Pac, thank you for being a reliable friend, always being there for me. Since this could be a goodbye... Cellbo, I'm sorry, but... I'm gonna have to give you more work/trouble. The Order already drives you crazy enough, but during my absence, you're the president, and it's your duty to try to keep everyone on the island calm. Baghera, BadBoyHalo, I think I'll be owing you guys the flower of the day for a while... I really don't know where I ended up, but you can be sure that whenever I am, I am searching for our kids. Richas, Tallulah, Dapper, Pomme, Leo, Chayanne, Ramon, I will find you. This is a 'see you later' to all of you, from the president of Quesadilla Island."

[royalarchivist]

Ramon: u could automate this. do you want me to automate a coffee machine?

Fit: Oh, Ramon is like– "We could automate this coffee!" [Reads Ramon's next sign] It's true. I mean– well, I mean... The Favela's coffee shop here, Starbobby, it's kinda like a local business, do we really wanna... automate this to be nation-wide? Y'know? Like...

Ramon: [Slowly turns and nods at Fit]

Fit: [Laughs] Ramon's like, "Yes." [Laughs] Alright, alright, alright, fine– yeah! Whatever makes the coffee easier to get!

Sunny: waittttttt i can have my own coffee FACTORY

Ramon: big corporations

Fit: I mean, that's life! This is inevitable. When a business is successful enough, this is bound to happen, so... Who are we to fight it? Who are we, residents of Quesadilla Island, who are we to fight late-stage capitalism?

[sparklysparklingsparkles]

I adore this entire conversation so much! I'm so happy to have Ramon back!

Ramon talking about his worries about Fit being alone

Fit talking about why he's hestiant to make more steps

FIT CONFESSING TO LIKING PAC (he actually said the words, I can't believe it)

Fit planning to get Pac a gift

Fit planning to go on a not-date with Pac! (thank you Ramon)

[transcription:

Ramon: 'I WAS EXPECTING MY JUICY INFO'

Fit: "Oh. W-well look, Ramon, okay, if- if this is about Pac, just be- be patient my child, you can't rush these things. You can't rush these things. And besides.. hold on, i just wanna make sure.. no one can hear us."

Ramon: 'I KNOW YOU'

Ramon: 'you took 5 months to learn create'

Fit: "5 months to learn create? Well, once i put my mind to it, it happened a lot quicker."

Ramon: 'and you learn most of it in days'

Ramon: 'lets be honest'

Fit: "Let's be- okay okay okay." to chat "Yeah stream chat, I'm not gonna lie, I'm getting absolutely cooked right now."

Ramon: 'sooo I guess Pac will be the same'

Fit sighs

Ramon: 'SOOOOOOOO i dont wanna risk it disappearing and not see the progress in person by any reason'

Fit: "We- well okay, yeah. Don't worry, Ramon. It's.. it's-it's just- it's just a little tricky, it's just a little tricky, cause.. um"

Ramon starts placing TNT

Fit: "Well, hold on, hold on! Ramon, Ramon, listen to me. Just remember, I- I'm on quesadilla island on very important business, and it's like, yeahh, I like Pac, but I-i.. I just, I don't want him to get caught up in all this, you feel me? Like, it could get- it could get dangerous. So I-i- I just- we just have to be careful!"

Ramon: 'dont you think a person that loves you would do anything for you? ANYTHING'

Fit: sigh "I mean.. you're not wrong, Ramon."

Ramon: 'I would do anything'

Fit: "I know, i would do anything for you Ramon!"

Ramon: 'i just dont want you to be alone forever'

Fit: "Aw Ramon.. Well, you know, I-i.. I have you, I-i have all of my wonderful friends here on the island, buy yeah, you're right. I mean, yeah.."

Ramon: 'well yeah but you have seen that we eggs are on oncurring [kidnappings] constantly'

[kidnappings was a language barrier]

Ramon: 'so it would be a relief to have someone to watch on you for me'

Fit: "Yeahh.. right. Y-yeah, you know, you're not wrong, Ramon, you're not wrong. Alright, you're not wrong. It-it's-"

Ramon lights up the TNT

Fit: "Oh god, oh god. OH GOD! DON'T MIND ME! JUST.. Right, okay. Fine. Well, you know what?" clap "I have an idea then, Ramon! I have an idea! Because we're all about baby steps, I.. I will get a nice gift for Pac, for the holidays. I will get him a nice gift that i think he will like. ... Right, like that-that's.. that's, like, a step in the right direction, right? Yeah, yeah! Which means, you like, you know, admire someone or care about them, yeah! ... I think- i think that'd be good!"

Ramon: 'or a date'

Fit: "Uh.. ye-yeah.. uhm- uh.. Yeah yeah, something though, yeah Ramon, something, something!"

Ramon: 'you don't need to put it as a "date"'

Fit: "Ye-yeah yeah! We could use a different word! Like, it'd be, like, it'd be like the s- kinda the same thing but just a different name for it, yeah!"

end transcription]

[brothermouse]

How do I celebrate Jovial Visitation?? I want to put together a celebration this year -- what do I do? Any typical events or foods or traditions?

- Sparrow [@hiseyeisonthesparrow]

I've only known about Jovial Visitation for a few years now, and from what I know it's only been celebrated by weird artsy Mormon types, which is good news for you because that means you can make up any traditions you want!

Here's a tiktok video of the guy who got the ball rolling and how he celebrates it.

That said, here's a few things I've seen:

Read Joseph Smith History 27-54

Listen to "September" by Earth, Wind, & Fire

"Angel" foods: Angel food cake, Bugle Chips, sandwiches cut into angels angles, anything that you can connect to Angels in any way, really. The more tenuous and convoluted the connection, the better

"Gold" food: for the Golden Plates, chocolate coins, cheese pizza, quesadillas, etc same rules as above

Giving gifts: Books are common, wrap them up and "seal" them before you give them out

Seer Stone Hat Raffle: put everyone's name in a hat, have someone put on the dopest sunglasses available and draw for prizes (like the sealed books!)

Treasure hunt, maybe????

If you're feeling big dad energy you can also wake everyone up three times in the middle of the night and read scripture at them.

But I'm the end, the great thing about Jovial Visitation is that we can make up the rules as we go. It's our holiday, who's to tell us how we can or can't celebrate it? Just have fun because whatever way you feel like doing it is the right way.

[kadextra]

So about that “potential investor” answer

^ judging from this description, these investors are people that Want to be on the island and live there. so, I assume they are people seeking an RBI (residency by investment)

basically, people want to immigrate to Quesdilla Island & acquire residency through a government-administered program. in return they help boost the economy (in this case whatever the federation wants bc they are pretty much the government here)

the original english/spanish speakers came to the island only for a temporary vacation before having it all twisted around on them. q!cellbit and bagi lived here as children. the french plane was downed, turns out q!antoine/baghera/kameto/aypierre all had prior connections to the federation. the ice chamber people were already here

now that we know the federation seems to be offering RBI programs, it means any of our current residents could’ve been someone, or had family (probably like cellbit/bagi’s parents?) that made a conscious investment to live on Quesadilla Island hoping for a nice life here. likely having no idea they were signing up to be an experiment, or participate in conducting experiments

you know the commercial, look how they play up the island as being a beautiful and perfect place to live. but that one is 20 years old and was made by q!pol before he got iced. if this quiz is present-day, that means this kind of thing is probably still going on. what kind of advertising is the federation doing outside of the island…?

will any of the new members coming soon be a result of that?

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 6

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, hurt, angst, more murder mystery, divorce, drinking, death

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: Welcome back, guys! I'm still trying to catch up with comments and reading, so be patient with me 😂 BUT there's a big reveal in this chapter and things are about to pick up. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on all of it. Enjoy! 🤓🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 6: Curses And Cries

March 2021

As you entered the dingy bar on the outskirts of Juárez, the smell of salsa deliciously hit your nose, causing your stomach to growl. Ever since your prolonged stay in Mexico, you had really gotten attached to the cuisine here.

After your husband’s death, you started to eat your grief in spicy carbs and worked it off with an hour-long jog in the mornings and some Brazilian Jiu Jitsu in the evenings.

And while you were eating your sadness, your companion was drowning his in tequila. Apparently, three shots in this time, judging from the empty glasses on the oak counter in front of him.

You sat down next to him and wordlessly grabbed a plastic menu, skimming through it with interest as Beau watched you from his peripheral and downed another shot.

“Oooh, they have Quesadillas here,” you hummed happily.

“They have Quesadillas everywhere here. And back home. It’s called Tex-Mex,” Beau grumbled and gestured at the bartender for a refill with his fingers.

“Maybe some Nachos, too,” you mused, ignoring his murmurs next to you. He had become quite the grump.

“You’re gonna puke at some point,” he muttered, thanking the bartender as he placed down five more shots in front of him.

“Jesus, by the looks of it, you’re the one who’s gonna puke tonight, not me,” you quipped and arched an eyebrow at his life choices. “Maybe you should order some food as well, soak up all that Don Julio. Or at least eat the limes that come with it…”

“I’m fine,” Beau said and hissed as he gulped down another glass.

“Yeah, by all means, you look great,” you retorted wryly. “What happened? What are you doing back here so soon? You were supposed to be at home the whole week. Weren’t you and Carla planning to go on that cabin trip with Em?”

Unlike you, who had come down here and never gone back, Beau made the trip home every couple of weeks for the sake of his marriage and daughter. You knew, however, from the occasional concerned phone calls with Carla that he barely kept his commitment afloat.

You tried to talk to him, tried to keep a balance, tried to send him home, but you knew deep down that you could try even harder. Selfishly, you wanted him here with you. He was your lifeline, the only piece you still had left of your husband.

Beau snorted a drunken laugh in response and grabbed another shot. “Yeah, that went downhill quickly.”

Your brow scrunched with a mix of concern and confusion. You placed a palm on his forearm in a comforting manner. “What happened?”

Beau silently reached into the inner pocket of his jeans jacket and pulled out a folded and crumpled heap of stapled papers, slapping them onto the counter in front of you. With a creased brow, you took them and unfolded them carefully, while Beau downed another shot.

“Oh Beau…” You sighed when you read over the lines that stung out and looked at him, putting the document back down. “She’s divorcing you?”

“Yup,” he replied bitterly and stared ahead, another shot raining down his throat.

You frowned and snatched the last remaining shot, drinking it before he could.

“Ey!”

“You’re cut off,” you barked sternly at his protest. “Drinking isn’t gonna make this better, you know?”

“You sure? ‘Cause it certainly feels like it.” Beau grinned lazily at you. Judging by the glaze in his green eyes, you were honestly surprised he didn’t slur his words yet. But then again, you figured he had built up quite the tolerance over the last couple of months.

“Uh-huh, worked out great for you the last few weeks. You know, some would even say all the booze is what got you into this mess in the first place,” you retorted and threw him a pointed look.

Beau muttered mockingly into his empty glass, “Really? And who are those people?”

Rolling your eyes with a small sigh, you grabbed his arm and tried to get him up from the barstool. But Beau shook his head and wiggled himself out of your grip. In that moment, you wished that he was lighter and that you were a lot stronger.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not done sulking yet,” he told you and swiftly turned to the bartender once more.

Fourteen tequilas in, you were finally allowed to take him back to the motel. Getting him from the bar into the car and then from the parking lot into the room was quite the straining task. He was a big guy, his full weight resting on you as you had his arm slung around your shoulders, guiding him on wobbly bow legs.

“Where’s your key?” you demanded firmly like a kindergarten teacher talking to a misbehaving toddler.

Beau flashed you a crooked smirk. “It’s in my pocket. Go fish.”

You laughed in annoyed amusement. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that one tomorrow,” you said and dove your hand into the back pocket of his jeans, hauling out the key without further ado.

“Ow! Did you just pinch me?”

Well, some further ado.

“You bet I did,” you replied dryly, chuckling as you turned your back to him and fumbled the key into the lock.

“Oh, you’re a sly one, alright… Kinda like it,” he slurred drunkenly behind you.

You soon caught a waft of tequila as his breath tickled your neck, your gaze wandering up as his flat palm steadied on the door next to your cheek. He then leaned his forehead on your shoulder as he swayed behind you in the cool night air. A shiver ran down your spine, but you tried to remain composed.

“You smell nice,” he noted with a smile in his voice. “You always do.”

You snorted and finally managed to unlock the door. “Okay, now I know you’re really wasted,” you joked and tried to get his mind to focus on something else.

You didn’t take offense to his advances nor did you put too much thought into them. You supposed every guy, who was drunk, lonely, sad, and most of all, a man, would hit on any female in his proximity. His pride was shattered, and you were just the closest thing there to mend the pieces of his ego back together again.

Besides, you weren’t all that scared of him. Maybe currently a little uncomfortable, but that was it. You knew he was a good guy. And if it turned out he wasn’t, you had practiced enough Jiu Jitsu over the course of the last months to throw him on his ass with the power of your little pinky.

However, before you could twist the knob and open the door, he gripped your waist and spun you around. Your back hit the flat surface behind you, pressing against the fragile wood as you came face to face with him. He licked his plump lips with a mischievously cocky smile, leaning closer to you as he dipped his head.

But you didn’t move or flinch. Instead, you patiently crossed your arms over your chest and quirked your brow with an amused smile. “And what d’you think you’re doing here, gaucho?”

As long as he didn’t overstep any lines, you were willing to entertain his little flirtations for the sake of his ego. Deep down, you knew he wouldn’t go through with them anyway. Like the tequila, it just made him feel better in the moment.

As expected, the mischief soon disappeared abruptly from his face and was replaced by a surprise attack of nausea. “Puking,” he managed to spit out.

With a sigh, you grabbed behind you and swung the door open for him, watching him bolt past you into the bathroom. You heard him retching a second later.

“Told you so!” you called after him with a triumphant grin.

With a few taps of your combat boots, you waited till the silver elevator doors of the DA’s office parted with a ding. Your head bobbed mindlessly to the jazzily generic music till you reached the fifth floor and Diane’s office. For once during this case, you were excited to meet with a prosecutor. You finally struck gold and had something in your hands, even if it was just a username and a possible connection to the victims.

Depending on what your tech analysts at the FBI back in Houston would find, you hoped for an arrest by the end of the week.

“Hey, working hard, I see,” you said with a friendly smile as you approached Diane’s desk and saw the huge piles of files in front of her. It was late, too. The office was empty, her colleagues already having cleared out.

“Yeah, I’m the newbie, so I got a lot of catching up to do,” she said, chuckling softly.

You then noticed the diploma behind her hanging on the wall and nodded impressed. “Wow, Stanford Law School, huh? You’re from California?”

“Oh yeah, born and raised. And honestly, it’s not that remarkable. It’s really just like any other law school in the country,” she replied modestly.

You snorted, amused over her response. “Yeah, I doubt that.” There was a twinge in your stomach and a voice in your head.

Smart, driven, the California Penal Code, it whispered, checking off a secret list.

“By the way, I’m sorry about last week,” Diane apologized, causing your brow to wrinkle in confusion for a moment before you caught on. Her voice sounded secretive like the two of you were having a chat between friends. Only that you weren’t remotely close at all. “I didn’t mean to barge in and interrupt anything with that hottie sheriff.”

“Oh, uh, don’t worry about it,” you told her courteously, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You’d think someone like him would be married,” she commented cheekily, while you direly wished you could escape the awkwardness of that conversation.

“Divorced,” you supplied politely, trying your best to remain professional.

Socially weird, the detective voice in your mind noted.

“Oh, that explains it. Wonder what happened there. I was actually so surprised when Sheriff Arlen introduced you as his girlfriend,” Diane said and explained further, “I just noticed your wedding ring, so I assumed you were his wife.”

“Uh, no.” Your eyes flashed down to your golden wedding band around your ring finger, the urge to take it off and hide it in shame before crawling into bed with a torrid lover suddenly permeated your thoughts. As if taking it from your finger and hiding it in some pocket, out of everyone’s judgmental sight, would make the immoral affair less of a betrayal.

There’s nothing to feel guilty about, you reminded yourself sternly.

However, there was a flicker of something in Diane’s gray eyes that tugged and tore at you, cautioning you to tread carefully. That something wicked in her eyes wanted you to suffer and doubt yourself.

“So, what’s the story there? You married?” Diane asked bluntly and then shook her head, chuckling. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry. It’s none of my business.”

“No, you’re good,” you feigned your assurance with a hard smile. “Dead husband, actually. Happened a couple of years ago now.”

“Ah, well, lucky you. Sheriff Arlen seems like a catch,” she quipped, grinning.

“Yeah, lucky me,” you faux-agreed and kept your smile, although everything was killing you inside.

“So, how did you two meet? Excuse my nosiness, I’m a sucker for a good love story.” Diane’s question reverberated with charm that could’ve easily fooled anybody into thinking it was all just harmless curiosity.

But not you.

You broke a polite smile, but your stare could’ve killed her. “He was my husband’s partner back in Houston.”

“Oh, wow. Sounds a bit messy, doesn’t it?” Diane gave you a surprised look, but you couldn’t shake the feeling she had already known the answer and her question was only supposed to torture you. Your feet were starting to get antsy to leave, your hands itching to grasp your gun. When you only replied by offering her another tight-lipped smile, she cleared her throat and dropped her intrusive exam. “So, uh, what can I do for you? Any new leads?”

Pursing your lips, you shook your head. “Uh, no. It’s a tough one. We’re still chasing down several ends, but nothing concrete. Just wanted to stop by to give you the coroner’s report of our last victim. It came through this morning.” You pulled out only one file from your bag, keeping the others inside, and handed it to her.

“Oh, alright. Anything remarkable?” Diane’s smile was sharp as she leafed briefly through the report. You guessed she didn’t need to read it to know what state the victim was found in.

“Uh, no. Nothing so far. Gotta be honest with you – this case is a tough one. Might take us a while,” you lied openly. You knew she didn’t buy a word of what you said, and you could see that she didn’t care.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll solve the case. After all, you’re a smart one, Agent Y/L/N. I have no doubt you’ll catch her, eventually.” Diane sent you a confident smile.

It was the last insurance you’d needed. You knew for a fact you had never mentioned to Diane that the killer was most likely a woman. That information wasn’t anywhere in the documents you’d given her yesterday. You had kept it close. Only a handful of people knew.

You could then see it all right there in front of you as the alarm bells rang in your head. You were face to face with your killer, staring right into her gray and cold eyes, and there was nothing you could goddamn do about it.

Judging by her cunning look, she knew it, too. She wanted you to catch on. She wanted you to know it was her. She was fucking playing with you.

March 2021

“Oh God…” Beau groaned as he hugged the yellowing porcelain throne, his forehead propped up on the back of his hand, knees scraping against the chipped and dirty green motel bathroom tiles.

“There, there…” you soothed with a hint of amusement in your voice, your palm rubbing his back in comforting circles when he heaved again. “Let it all out, big guy.”

“I think this was the last of it.” Beau straightened a bit as his fingers fumbled blindly for the flush. His eyes were bloodshot and teary, his nose was red and snotty, and his lips were pale and dryer than the desert. He never looked worse.

You grinned and pulled out your phone, swiping to the camera. “Say cheese.”

Beau’s brow scrunched in confusion and betrayal. “What in God’s good name-… Why the hell would you do that?”

“You look terrible, my friend. Figured it’d be a great picture for the slideshow I’m planning for your fiftieth,” you quipped, your wicked grin widening.

“Oh God…”

“Relax.” Playfully, you rolled your eyes back, while you saved the photo to your favorites on your phone. “You’ve still got a while ‘til then. You’ve just turned forty not that long ago. I’m just planning ahead.”

“Not that.” Beau shook his head and clutched his stomach, his cheeks losing color again. His eyes widened in miserable realization. “I think it’s starting again.”

With that, he tossed himself over the stained white bowl and puked his literal guts out for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. Pretty sure you purged all the tequila and drank the entirety of Mexico dry,” you commented with a chuckle over his vomiting noises. If you ever thought the guy was sexy again, you would remind yourself to think back to this moment.

“I don’t remember you ever being this funny when I was sober.” After his last heave, Beau flushed once more and leaned back against the cool wall with an exhaustive sigh. “I think I’m really done now.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “You sure? You’ve said that a few times in the last two hours.”

He nodded with his eyes closed. “Mhm, yeah… That one felt final.”

“Alright.”

You rose from your floor seat against the bathtub and held out your hands. He glanced at them for a second before he took you up on your offer. With your help, he hoisted himself back onto his wobbly feet. You reached behind him and grabbed his toothbrush with a dab of paste from the sink, handing it to him.

You smiled. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

After he thoroughly brushed his teeth and washed his face with cold water, you accompanied him to his bed with his arm slung around your neck. While he was more sober and coherent after his vomit escapade, he was still pretty drunk. You knew the massive hangover that would hit him in a few hours would be more punishing than the desert heat.

Sitting him down on the edge of his bed, you handed him a Tylenol and a bottle of water to swallow it down. “Hydrate,” you ordered as you kneeled down on the carpet in front of him, untying his boots and slipping them off his feet.

As you straightened, your face fell right into his hands, both of his massive palms cupping your cheeks. You stared into his hazy pine-green eyes, a twitch of confusion on your brow as your breaths mingled. Your heart skipped a beat, the white noise ringing in your ears. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you could guess.

Beau swallowed thickly and dropped his hands from your cheeks. “I should lay down.”

“Yeah, you should,” you bit, a trace of anger in your voice. Though, you couldn’t tell if it was because he almost overstepped or because he didn’t. You knew the latter would be a problem for both of you, so you decided on the first. There was no need to unnecessarily burden your conscience with imagined immorality.

Beau groaned as his head hit the pillow. His eyes found yours, a fragment of an apology fluttered across his features. “Thank you, uhm, for taking care of me. You coulda just bailed.”

“Yeah, I know. But this was more fun to watch.” You grinned teasingly.

Beau pursed his lips, chuckling lightly. “Is that the only reason you stayed? ‘Cause it was fun?”

“No, you’re also my friend, and I’d never desert you. We leave no man behind, remember?” you said with a smile, quoting one of the cliché lines your task force team repeated often. “‘Sides, you and I are trauma bonded.”

“Alright.” Beau bobbed his head pensively, his lips curled. “So… on a scale from one to ten, how full is my quota for tonight to do somethin’ stupid again?”

Your heart twisted and clenched in your ribcage. You knew what he meant. He couldn’t have been clearer. It was all written in his eyes as bright as the stars in the sky when he looked at you, only a dangling question of “May I?” hanging in the air between you two.

“Twenty,” you said firmly and held your chin high, swallowing thickly. “I think that quota is pretty fucking full.”

“That’s too bad.” On his lips flickered a forlorn smile, his hand brushing your cheek for a moment before he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered like smoke on your skin. “But maybe for the best. I’d like to remember that one, and I’m not sure I would tonight.”

A shallow scoff left your nose. “Maybe you’ll remember this,” you said with bitter anger in your voice and stared daggers at him. “You’ll always be the guy that stood on my doorstep and told me my husband was dead.”

Beau nodded with a harsh swallow of understanding and retreated, forcing some distance between you two. “Yeah, I think that’ll stick even through the tequila.”

“Good,” you bit and rose to your feet, walking to the door. “Get some fucking sleep.”

Beau’s mouth opened with a want to say something, maybe even an apology, but the door slammed harshly behind you before he got a chance. And now, all he had left was silence, a raging headache, guilt in his stomach, and regret in his heart.

Breathlessly, you arrived at the Sheriff’s Department and stormed into Beau’s office. The door was ajar as he chatted with Jenny, both of them curiously looking at you before concern took hold of their faces.

“Hey, everything alright?” Beau instantly rose from his chair, his brow knitting with worry.

“No,” you replied with a shake of your head, the alarm visible in every crease of your flushed face. “I think I’ve found our killer.”

“What? How? Who?” Beau ran down the basic wh-questions in confusion. “Weren’t you just at the DA’s office?”

“It’s Diane, isn’t it?” Jenny shot straightaway, and your eyes widened in confirmation as you nodded. “Yeah, I got a weird vibe from her, too.”

“What, no? Diane?” Beau raised his brow at the two of you in disbelief. “Okay, back up a little here. Why do you think it’s Diane? We met that woman only three weeks ago. She seemed alright. Little awkward maybe, but we can’t arrest people ‘cause they’re weird.”

“Look, I know that,” you said and crossed your arms. “And I don’t have anything concrete yet, but it’s just a feeling. I got a really strange vibe from her earlier.”

“Well, we can’t arrest people because of strange vibes either,” Beau retorted. “And if it really is Diane, arresting her at all is gonna be hard. I mean, she’s the DA on the case. Who’s gonna issue the warrant, huh?”

“Convenient.” Jenny scoffed under her breath, earning her a scolding look from her boss.

“Don’t encourage her, please.” He shot Jenny a warning and yet pleading glance.

“Look, I’m not crazy! It’s her. I’ll find proof,” you insisted. It almost sounded like a threatening promise.

“What did she say to you exactly?” Jenny questioned and cocked her head at you in interest. You appreciated her professionalism, unlike Beau who still looked at you doubtfully.

“She asked some really personal questions about me and Beau. And not in a friendly chitchat manner. It’s hard to explain. I guess you had to be there… It was weird, okay?”

“Well, you can’t really fault her for that after what she’s seen,” Beau mitigated the circumstances.

“What has she seen?” Jenny looked suspiciously between you two. When both of you responded with deafening silence and averted your gazes, she chortled. “You two really need to lock that door.”

“Alright, that’s not the point,” Beau huffed his retort with blushed cheeks.

“Can we get back to Diane being a serial killer, please?” you requested impatiently. “Look, she fits the profile. She’s got the California connection. She went to Stanford. She’s obviously wicked smart. And she also knows we're looking for a female perp.”

That caught Jenny’s attention. Her brow furrowed. “You didn’t tell her?”

You shook your head. “No, and it’s nowhere in the files. So unless one of you told her, how did she know that?”

Grabbing the football from his desk, Beau’s head bobbed pensively as he squeezed the peanut between his hands. You tried not to think about Randy, but your heart stung nonetheless. Beau seemed to notice your distracted look and quickly put the ball back down.

“Alright, what do we do next?” he asked with a clear of his throat.

“I hope whatever the tech analysts find points to her. We could also put a tracker on her car. Won’t help in court, but maybe she leads us to one of the bunkers,” you suggested and pursed your lips for the next part. “I could also talk to the other DAs on the case. If we can’t get an arrest warrant here, we can still try through the other states and extradite her.”

“Good idea. Who would–” Beau stopped mid-sentence, his eyebrows drawing together as he realized your plan. “You wanna ask Ted? C’mon!”

“It’d be the fastest way! We’ve worked together for years,” you defended.

“Uh-huh, a little too closely…” Beau muttered under his breath, earning a small glare from you.

“Would you calm down? We only went on three dates. Nothing ever happened,” you stated and looked at him, completely forgetting Jenny was still in the room, too.

“I’m gonna go for this part,” she excused herself and touched your arm on the way out. “I’ll do some research on Diane. See what we can dig up about her past.”

“Thank you. That’d be great,” you said as she left.

Beau waited for a beat, ensuring you were completely alone before he found your eyes. “Nothing happened?”

“No, I ended it before it got to that point. Mainly because I didn’t want it to get to that point,” you explained and could see him relax, his shoulders falling.

He stalked closer to you, wrapping you in his arms. He kissed you deeply, hands wandering to your ass and squeezing the cheeks through your jeans. You smiled up at him.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you teased.

“I’m not–… You know what? I am,” Beau stated almost proudly. “I don’t like thinking about losing you to some jerk. Actually, I don’t like thinking about losing you at all. It’s killing me that I almost did. I should’ve never let you close the door on me that day. I should’ve never left… At least not like that.”

“It’s okay. I’m here now… with you. It all sorta worked out. Maybe we needed that time apart,” you said softly and hoped you soothed his guilt a little. Your mind drifted back to Diane’s words. Thoughtfully, you twisted the ring on your finger.

“You okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just something Diane said,” you told him, your brow wrinkling as the bad feeling in your gut expanded. “She just asked about my ring. It was odd.”

“Well, we already know she’s a bit nutty,” Beau said and gave you a soothing smile, embracing you a little tighter as he pulled you against his chest and pecked the top of your head. But his heart ached with worry and a bad feeling.

“Yeah, I just…” You glanced at your ring again and exhaled one nostalgic breath. You then took it off and placed it in Beau’s palm, who seemed rattled by your unforeseen choice. “Take it and keep it somewhere. Throw it in a lake or feed it to a trout. I don’t care. I don’t wanna wear it anymore.”

“Y/N–”

You stopped his protest, knowing it was well meant. “No, really. It’s alright, okay? I’m ready to let go. I’m with you now… And I love you.” You gave him a smile, and he mirrored a softer one, nodding.

“Alright,” he accepted your decision and lifted the ring to your view. He opened a drawer in his desk and stored it carefully inside. “I love you, too. But I’m gonna keep it safe here in case you ever change your mind… which you can do at any point in time, no questions asked, okay?”

“Thank you.” You stretched up to meet his lips, kissing him passionately. Sometimes, it was hard to believe you’d found it twice – true love. But you were sure of it whenever you stared into Beau’s mesmerizingly green eyes. Maybe Diane was right. You were lucky, after all.

August 2020

The cookbook laid open on the marble counter by the stove, a second one with another recipe right next to it. You stared at them, your narrowed eyes wandering back and forth between ‘Brisket’ and ‘Biscuits and Gravy’ as you tapped your chin with a wooden spatula.

You had never been the best cook, as your mother would attest to, but every once in a while you tried and even had some success with the classics. Those two dishes were Randy’s favorite – like almost every Texan’s if you excluded BBQ.

You’d been gone for close to a month for an assignment that took you all the way to Arizona. You had just gotten home two days ago, and after washing a month’s worth of laundry and getting some well-deserved rest, you promised your husband a delicious meal for date night.

When the food was done, you set the table with the good china you’d received from your mother-in-law at your wedding. As you waited, you filled a glass with Merlot. Then, a second one. You stared at the hands of the clock in the dining room moving in a circle, alternating with the watch around your wrist in case either one was wrong. Every two minutes you checked your phone, scrolled through social media, and exhaled sighs. The food was getting cold, but that was the least of your problems.

You were growing anxious, steadying the slight tremble in your hand with more wine.

But when the doorbell rang, you stood up from your chair with relief and rushed into the foyer. You ignored the voice in your head that told you Randy wouldn’t have rung the damn doorbell. He would’ve just used his key. And you ignored the voice when instead of Randy, you found his partner on your doorstep.

“Beau, hey.” Your brow crinkled at the oddness of seeing him so late at your house, but your lips formed a smile nonetheless. “What are you doing here?”

You ignored the voice that warned you about the universal truth everyone in law enforcement knew about. If a partner showed up at a cop’s wife’s house, it was never good news. Deep down, you already knew why he was here. You saw it in the haunted green of his eyes. You saw it in the dark and puffy circles underneath them. You saw it in the bloodstains on his white shirt. You saw it in the bloody creases of his nails that he couldn’t entirely scrub clean before he came here.

“Beau?” The wrinkles in your brow molded into deeper cracks, hardening like cement. You took a step forward, one hand on the door jamb steadying your jittery bones. “Is Randy okay? Is he in the hospital?”

You needed him to say the words, but he couldn’t. His lips quivered, his hands trembled, his eyes filled with tears. He swallowed harshly and clasped his mouth, not knowing what to say or how to find the words. He turned his back to you, walking a few steps. Whatever courage he had to come to your door in the first place, left him the second he saw your face.

You shook your head, disbelief keeping you from accepting reality. You stood on the tracks, the freight train was coming. “Just lemme grab my jacket. We can drive to the hospital together.”

Snatching a too-large jacket from the coat rack you were sure was your husband’s, you tried to bolt past Beau, but a hand on your arm caught you and stopped you on your front lawn. You found his green eyes. He wordlessly shook his head.

“No! It’s not true,” you insisted desperately, tears starting to flood your eyes. “I just talked to him a few hours ago. I-I made dinner… His favorite. He’s coming home! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Beau’s clasp on your arm tightened, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Your tears now fell, too. Yet, you vividly shook your head and stuffed the pain down your throat until it felt like you were choking. “No, you’re wrong. You’re wrong, Beau! He’s coming home to me. He’s coming home…”

You repeated those words over and over until your sobs swallowed them all. Beau pulled you to his chest and held you tightly. You felt his tears fall like raindrops upon your head, your body stiffening and bones turning to stone as unbearable pain and grief wracked through your veins and consumed you.

“I’m so sorry,” Beau repeated, his voice muffled by your hair. His arms wrapped around you even tighter. “He’s not coming home, darlin’. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

He kept saying it as he held you – how sorry he was. But once the reality of the situation fully hit you, so did your anger. You pushed him away. As you met his gaze, he almost looked hurt by that action, but all you could find in your heart was vitriol, disdain, and blame.

“You should be. You should be sorry,” you spat through your tears. “Where were you in all of this, huh? You said you’d have his back! So, why are you here and he’s not? Where the fuck were you, Beau?”

His mouth jittered open, searching for an explanation for his own failure. “I know… I-I don’t know what happened. It just went south so fast… I-…”

“You guys told me it was a quick job,” you pointed out furiously. “In and out! ‘No big deal, darlin’,” you quoted him in mock. “It was your fucking idea to go in! I asked if you guys needed backup, and you said no! You told me you could do it on your own, you arrogant shit!”

Beau dragged a hand over his face, wiping some of the tears away. “I know.” He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it! You got it? It’s not gonna bring him back now, is it?”

“I know. I know I fucked up. Trust me, Y/N. I know…”

You furiously shoved at his chest, pushing him back a few inches. He let you, didn’t even try to stop you in the slightest. He was willingly volunteering to be your punching bag as if it would magically better the situation and absolve him from his sins.

“You were supposed to be his partner!” you yelled so loudly all the commotion in the front yard of your quiet neighborhood had woken the neighbors, a few of them flooding out of their houses and gathering in their own yards to gawk at the spectacle.

You pushed him again. Harder this time. “You were supposed to fucking protect him!”

Another push. “You promised me you’d take a bullet for him!”

Push. “You fucking coward!”

Beau just nodded in agreement with all your accusations, his eyes brimming with tears. “I know. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

This time, you slapped him across the cheek. “Stop saying you’re fucking sorry!”

The harsh slap echoed through suburbia. Your palm tingled and stung as you watched Beau’s cheek redden with your furious mistake. You stared around you and glanced at the gasping and gaping faces of your neighbors. You clasped your mouth with both hands as you broke down and started to sob uncontrollably.

Kind and forgiving as he was, Beau pulled you back into his embrace, strong arms locking around you and soothing your anguish. “It’s okay… I’m here. I gotcha… It’s okay. I gotcha… I’m not lettin’ go, alright?”

Sobbingly, you nodded as you cried and sniffled, burying your face in his chest. You wrapped your arms around his torso and held onto him, too weak to keep standing on your own.

“It’s okay… I know,” Beau said and tucked you under his arm, leading you back to the house. “C’mon, let’s get you inside, darlin’.”

Chapter 7: Storm Coming – JUNE 19

Welp, we know who our killer is now! Ready for the approaching storm called Diane? When it rains, it pours... 👀⛈️

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

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@nesnejwritings @autistic-gothic

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser

[guardian5tiger3]

Summer reading . Looking ahead ☀️

Pick a group

1. 2. 3.

Group 1

Something about disorganization, trying to collect something disorganized, collecting, gathering, trying to bring something and or yourself together. Running. You might get or be sick and or feel disappointed that you are missing out.you may be in the internet a lot, you may witness something changing probably form an outside perspective. You may have a vision, realization, profound thought(s) about the world, and even may go through a death rebirth situation. You might see something happen outside of yourself for instance you see an event take place outside of your window . It would be a good idea to seek tranquility or you might just end up doing so , especially outside. I'm getting someone will have the opportunity to sit aside a waterfall. Guess what!! Some of you are gonna have a romance , find love, or your relationship seems it will just be on good terms and the situation will be very nice. If you're in a relationship at the time of reading this, you will go do something fun together outdoors that is significant I see holding hands . I see someone's mom here has short grey curly hair and small earrings , whoever mom this is do not let her encourage you to miss out on something or some things for something else or something boring it is not actually important even if the alternative is not productive fun is very important for instance. Yeah so y'all gotta go places and do things and this is gonna be nice if you do don't let anything stop you basically. Really take in sensations this season, the color feels and smells

Group 2

"renegade" a motorcycle is significant to some. Something about a sheet or thin cloth somehow ?

The veil is thin for you this group is going to be channeling very well, very fast, a lot of information. Be sure to take time to sit still and mellow out and take in stuff so as to not get overwhelmed. I'm seeing a lot of you like tea so that is a good idea. Someone is going to visit a store for just tea at least mainly and this is very good what tea you get is very good as well. :) You might attend a sports game someone's going to soccer , it may be a kids game, someone's going to football, baseball. Something where you hit a ball with a stick . I also see those long socks on a girl while she runs , you know the socks worn in sports hopefully you know what I mean. You have the opportunity to attend a campfire but this situation is less complete destiny and more up to you somehow. You all definitely have more say in your life and the universe gives you more free will and choice so you are being suggested to go ahead and make the choice to be in nature more and push yourself to do that and other activities. You may feel incomplete if you don't have yourself go live as much as possible. I'm seeing an old box TV someone may be visiting a cabin or traveling though ? Believe it or not it's being suggested you spend less time studying or reading or sitting , more time doing activities and living and also it is good to focus on breathing in certain situations . Do not be rude to kids even if they are annoying if a kid that is too much is sent your way it is some way of the world trying to teach you something or show you something.

Group 3

You guys are more on a mission in life , spiritual or otherwise, so you might miss out and you may or you may not feel some way about this. Like maybe you'll see everyone else having fun and it gets to you but, everyone has play time and everyone has work time and your time will come, just as well as their time. What you're doing will pay off well and is very important it seems . My suggestion is, that if you have even on sudden opportunity to do something outside of your work, healing, whatever it may be, you should take it. Somehow it will be even sweeter of an experience due to circumstances. Someone's gonna eat Mexican I'm picking up a quesadilla and a restaurant maybe you will also sit outside of the restaurant if this is your message . You may have an older relative that only has so much time, this could be years but my point is they're later in life so , I see you do everything you can but just make sure you savor every moment with them I'm starting to cry. They mean a lot to your soul and it's all for a reason but I'm feeling that I shouldn't try to say too much to help I feel that the timing , whenever, or maybe a process as well , is supposed to be helpful for your own development and this is what they also deep down want for you .

Try to avoid numbness, self sabotage, etc. This is very odd but I'm picking up on the green fake tree type Christmas decoration you may hang on railings and stuff . ?,

And also , slightly less odd, toothpaste.

Someone is going to have boneless wings , saucy, to eat, but may make you somewhat sick more or less I just feel a certain type of uncomfortablility I've felt in my stomach with food like that before as well. I suggest milk, aloe, pacing yourself with water, or Tums but of course. Or .... Candy like ... You know the candy that comes in a roll and they actually look like small tums... Smarties but I'll leave this maybe it's a sign how I couldn't remember or something.

Not channeled but if anyone ever has a stomach ache vanilla ice cream can demolish any feeling of uncomfortablility and you'll doubt it to the second you try it.

[54625]

It's wild to me how much more meaning Stranger In Paradise (which is the FitMC lore song, has been since his first ever lore drop) has accumulated over time and how it honestly fits the character and plot even better than it did at first.

Cause like, the first verse is extremely self explanatory. Quesadilla Island has been described as this perfect paradise, and would absolutely seem like some kind of wonderland to a man who has lived the life that Fit has. And of course he's a stranger there, because a person like him would be extremely out of place on such an island. Not to mention that he's very much an odd one out, being far more in the know than a lot of other islanders, and on account of the whole. Being a spy thing.

But this verse. This feels like a perfect reference to Madagio and his threats of punishment. We've already seen Madagio act like an angel or god figure, and he's definitely not a "mortal," so that last line feels incredibly apt for him.

But also. If I stand starryeyed, that's a danger in paradise; "do not form attachments". If Fit enjoys the island too much, gets wrapped up in it and therefore gets distracted from the mission (if he stands starryeyed), then he risks Madagio's punishments, which are to harm him and his loved ones. (It's a danger, for mortals who stand beside).

I saw your face and I ascended out of the commonplace; into the rare. This is Ramón. This line was always about Ramón. How he turned Fit from some common thug/mercenary/spy into a literal father; something far more special.

But the second half of this verse makes far more sense in the context of Fit's relationship with Pac. Until I know there's a chance that you care? Have they not been tiptoing around this for months? The question of whether or not they actually care for each other in a more-than-friends kind of way?

I love this verse in the context of Fit's story. A fervent prayer? Fit's attempts to communicate with Madagio, surely. Won't you answer? He never did get those messages through. Also continuing the religious symbolism of Madagio being some kind of god, saint or angel that one would pray to.

And don't send me in dark despair from all that I hunger for. Fit wants a happy life. He wants to be happy with his son, his Pac, his morning crew. All of his friends. He wants to continue being a part of a welcoming community, creating instead of destroying, loving instead of hating. He just wants to be happy. But if he betrays Madagio (or even simply does something that Madagio interprets as abandoning the mission), he'll be sent back to the wasteland. In dark despair, from all that he hungers for. He'll lose everything he's gained.

The last verse is super self explanatory again. He doesn't have to be a stranger on Quesadilla Island. He doesn't have to be an outsider. He deserves to be one of them, the islanders, the family that has been formed.

I don't know I just find it so neat that this song has developed even more meaning and relevance in Fit's story. Fit and his fucking music choices, man

[vulpixisananimal]

(You wake up again.)

(Your head was killing you. Stars, what blinding happened near the end there? It was so blurry. Right, right, piece it together. Breathe in, and out. Stars, your head is killing you.)

(Alright. You were talking to Ramos, you ticked them off somehow, Mal Du Pays took over, you fought, where kicked out of front, and. . . When you got back, Ramos was KOed, you looked around, found a few things, jumped out of the window and- ouch.)

(Of course you wouldn't survive that height.)

(Oh great, you finally come back. Stars, what did you DO to Ramos!)

(Me?)

(YES! YOU! YOU KICKED ME OUT!)

(. . .)

(. . . You didn't kick me out?)

(. . . Great. You take another breath, your head was killing you, why? It's not like you did anything different. You look to your side.)

(!!! The quesadillas! Odiles theory worked! That, at least, puts a smile on your face. Well, Loop, it's time to try again.)

(You get out of bed.)

(And you collapse to the floor.)

(You. . . You feel numb. You can't feel your legs, your arms, your head. Your BLINDING head! Stars, what happened! A wave of nausea washed over you, you felt hot, like you were about to pass out.)

(Focus. Breathe in, and out. In, and out. In, and out. . .)

(You- Ack. Don't talk. You mean well but, can't, think, right. You breathe in, and out. Slowly, your chest pressing against the hard wood floors of your room. Your head pounded, like it was about to split in two. Your vision, where you seeing double?)

(It's. . . It was like The End, no, no this is worse.)

(This is. So. Much. Worse.)

(Shouldn't, it shouldn't be THIS bad, right? What, what happened? We looped on instinct once when fighting Ramos-)

(No. It was at least four times.)

(FOUR?!? You only remembered once! How! So, shouldn't that make this Loop. . . 12?)

(. . .)

(. . . Right, Mal?)

(I remember if we loop. Even if I do not remember what happens in those loops. I remember we looped on instinct four times. I remember feeling time pressing against our body. I remember not remembering, too. This is loop number 19.)

(. . .)

(. . . And, and you don't remember anything else?)

(I am just as confused as you.)

(You lie down on the floor, defeated. Right. Alright. You looped on instinct to beat Ramos, and, you looped a lot more than you thought, or, remember.)

(And it wasn't you?)

(It wasn't me, ater the second time we looped on instinct, I was forced out, I remember nothing more.)

(. . . . .)

(. . . Ha. HahahahAHAHAHA)

(Ha. . . . . .)

(You were slowly dying, weren't you. These loops were killing you. You had it easy so far, some time to rest up maybe, eat a snack, take a nap, whatever. But now, but now because of whatever just happened, you could barely move.)

(You stay like this for what feels like an eternity.)

(Could you get your friends? Or, call for them? Doubtful, the window is right over there, if you could open it? No, not possible. Smash it? Maybe. You try and pull yourself up off the floor, and nearly black out.)

(Why is it so much worse. It's so much worse than anything you've ever felt. You want to cry. You can't even cry, are you dehydrated?)

(You can't move, so, you just, wait. . .)

(. . .)

(Is this purgatory? Or perhaps something worse.)

(We're cursed, aren't we.)

(This craft was always a curse, tee hee~)

(Play with a curse, play with a wish. See what good comes from such a painful twist.)

(The Universe guides, we follow.)

(If the Universe guides, then I'd happily stay lost.)

(You keep breathing, you close your eyes-)

(No, keep them open. Don't pass out.)

(Right, fine. Fine. You hold your eyes open, stuck in your own head. Eventually, after what feels like days, you hear someone come up the stairs, you hear them get closer, and, please, please, please. . .)

(They knock on your door.) "Loop? Siffrin?" (It's Mirabelle.) "Are you awake?"

(You try and respond, you try and say something, but your throat, you can't, you can't speak!)

"W-well, I'm going to come in, a-alright?"

(Yes yes yes YES YES YES!)

(Mirabelle opens the door, the light from the hallway blinding you. She sees you, and gasps, running over.)

"S- L-loop!!! A-are, are you alright?!? What happened!!"

(You try and say something, no sound comes out.)

(Now you see what I must live with, Loop.)

"H-here, let me see." (She starts her healing crafts, it wont be anything like that, probably. She calls downstairs.) "C-could I get Some help!!"

(Ha, those footsteps sounds like thunder. That must be Isabeau, leaping up the stairs three at a time probably, and on cue here he is, practically skidding to a stop at your doorway.)

"L-loop!!!" (He rushes over too.) "What happened?!?!"

"I-I don't know! I-it doesnt look like they can talk, a-and they don't look hurt, I think, b-but. . ."

(You open your mouth again, looking at Isabeau. You try and mouth the word 'exhaustion', or anything like it. Please, please, please. . .)

". . . I-I think, it could be the craft exhaustion?"

"O-oh!! Alright! Go grab those tonics we got together! And some water!" (Isabeau was off like a rocket.)

(Mirabelle is done with her healing craft, and was checking your temeprature, your heartbeat. It was nice.)

"I-I'm sorry if, uhm, y-you're not good with touch. But I have to be sure."

(You very gently nod. Touch was, hard, still. But Mirabelle's was nice. . . You stop yourself from drifting off to sleep.)

(Isabeau came back very quickly, a whole armfull of tonics and a jug of water with a cup.) "I-I grabbed them all, s-sorry!"

"Nono! That's alright! Get them some water."

(Isabeau gently lifts your head off the ground; you nearly faint then and there. He got a cup, filled it, and put it to your lips. Gently, gently. . .)

(You cough and choke on first attempt, but second time you get some water. Stars, it's like liquid life being poured into your veins.)

"A-alright, alright, lets try some ginger first, here, Loop, j-just, try and drink it all." (Mirabelle holds the small bottle of ginger juice to your lips as Isa helps your head. Stars, embaressing. . .)

(. . . Ack-)

(You cough, a lot, a full coughing fit. Your head is pounding still, but, your can at least breathe easier. You flex your fingers, your toes, alright, still there. Good. You open your mouth.)

". . . .T-thank you. . ." (It's all you could get out.)

(You could see the fear fall from their faces. Haha, you weren't going to die again~)

"Don't try to talk, alright? Just, just keep breathing, for me, ok?" (Isabeau said, so softly. . .)

"C-could you try lifting them? Onto the bed?"

"Oh deffinatly! Just, you alright with that Loop?"

(You softly nod. You trusted him.)

(Isabeau picks you up, haha, you must weigh nothing at all. He places you down on the warm, comforting, bed.)

"Better?" (Isa asks, you nod.) "Good, rest up some more and then-"

(You shake your head and try talking again.) "O-odile. . . Thhheory. ."

"Theory- Oh!" (Mira perked up.) "Odiles theory must be right!"

"In that case. . ." (Isa looks between you and Mirabelle, thinking.) "You could, let everyone know? I'll stay here and make sure they're ok."

"R-right!" (Mirabelle nods and gets up, dashing downstairs.)

(Isabeau lets out a sigh of relief, he turned back to you.) "Water?"

(You nod, he helps you take another sip. You try not to choke. Stars, he felt so soft, softer than the bed beneath you. Your throat is sore, but better.)

". . .S-sorry. . ."

"Hey!!" (Isabeau put a hand to your forhead.) "Why are you appoligising? You didn't do anything wrong."

(Mhhgh, he has a point. It just, felt like you had done something wrong. You nod.) ". . . L-looped. . . A-a lot. . . At, once. . ."

"Oh Change. . ." (He was gently stroking your head, oh stars. . . He was, so soft. Your breathing steadied.) "Let's, let's try and avoid that then."

(You nod, taking a moment before your next sentence.) "D-didnt, mean to."

"Hey it's okay, mistakes happen- oh right." (He takes his hand away from your head.) "A-are you-"

"Nnnnooooooo~" (You say, looking all sad.)

"Snrk- A-alright, alright." (He goes back to patting your head.) "You're delirous right now, I think."

"Hehh. . . Llllloopy. . ."

"Haha! Yeah!! Loopy!!" (He smiles at you. Stars. . .)

(You wish you could get out of here. Get out of this damn day. Just, you just wish that Ramos wouldn't bother you. Just leave you alone. You want what you do each day to matter, to mean something. But, but now. . .)

(There's a knock on the door, It was Odile.)

"Oh! Come in M'dame!"

"Thank you- Oh Gems. . ." (Odile walked over and knelt down beside your bed.) ". . . You look terrible."

(You try smiling back.)

"I think it's craft exhaustion, it would make sense, right?" (Isa asks.)

"Right." (Odile looks you over, tapping a finger on your bedside table.) "You said my theory worked?"

(You nod.)

"They aparently looped a lot at once, too." (Isa chimed in.) "So, would it be like straining yourself exercising, but not feeling it untill the adrenaline wears off?"

"That makes sense." (She's tapping her finger faster.) "How many loops was it?"

(Loops loops, you said it was, what 19? and we were, we were on 8, or 9, so-)

(It's 10.)

"T-ten. . ."

"!!!!!"

"Gems alive. . ."

"D-dont, dont remember them. . ."

"You Don't?" (Odile looks surprised. She and Isa look at eachother, worried.) "Did Ramos touch you?"

"Nnoooo. . ." (What happened.) "Looped, every time, they was, about to."

"Interesting." (Odile stands up again.) "Does Ramos show up here, eventually?"

"Ttthree aafter, noon."

(She nods, and turns to Isabeau.) "I'll leave them in your hands, Isabeau, we'll make plans to deal with Ramos-"

"Nnnooooo-" (Your breathing quickens, you try getting up, but collaps almost immedatly.)

"Loop, you can't try fighting Ramos like this, or talking to them, or, well anything." (Isabeau got your bedsheet and covered you with it.) "You need to rest, I'll be here, and. . ."

". . ." (Odile looks between you two, still concerned.) "We'll have it handled, Loop."

(You don't even try to reply, you weren't going to win this argument. You just sigh and lay back.)

(Odile leaves, Isabeau stays. He talks to you, stars, things were getting blurry again. You reply almost on instinct to him, he asks about the loops, what happened, everything. You feel so, floaty. Your body still feels so numb. He helps you eat, drink. Bonnie and Nille visit soon after, Everyone does a few times.)

(You had been doing so well.)

(They made a plan for you. They got ready. They figured out how the loops work. You got plans to figure out what Ramos' deal was. You had so much.)

(But now you could barely move.)

(You don't drift off to sleep, to sleep is to lock yourself into the present. You can't do that, you'd lose, no matter what, you'd lose.)

(It calls to you, it's so hard, to stay, awake. . . Awake. . .)