#also john's lil spin move was so sick

[j-ustkeepgliding]

9188 goal v stars

[mirismuffins-ovo]

Plant Palace pt 8🌿

John felt guilty,he hadn’t expected Eddie to accept him back so easily but it still hurt to feel rejected. John had gone back to his car. It was a colder night but he sleeplessly stayed there for the night. Missing his kids and filled with sadness,what would he tell his kids if he came back and said Eddie didn’t want anything to do for John. He’d felt lonely for such a long time and feared losing the one person he wanted to be with most.

He stayed there for the rest of the night,ignoring his hungry stomach begging for food. John normally went hungry for the sake of the kids when they handed out rations for the camps and he’d gotten into the habit of eating less. His clothes hid that fact for the most part,he had examined Eddie's house,it was nice. Eddie had done well for himself,and he didn’t blame Eddie for being mad at John,he’d ran off after promising they’d have a family together and raise the babies together. Sleeplessly lying in the driver's seat with it reclined thinking about everything.

Eddie groaned as he woke up. Leafy and Bitty were pawing at his legs as he realized where he was. He never left the front entry way and didn’t think about the cats.

“Shit.” He groaned.

He got up, going to feed the cats when Bitty looked up at him and meowed before rubbing up against his leg. Then it all dawned on him.

“SHIT, JOHN!”

He fled his apartment, running outside, seeing maybe the man fell asleep at his apartment complex entry way. He didn’t care if it was early in the morning, He fucked up. He had promised himself over the years that it didn’t matter what happened to John. He wasn’t human so he had to do what the man had to do, and Eddie accepted that when they were dating. Just his own jealousy got in the way. He ran in the opposite direction he walked home in the night before, shouting for John’s name. He didn’t even look in any of the parked cars on the side of the street or alleyways. All he wanted to do was find his old lover and hold him in his arms again and apologize for being a complete dick.

John looked over with restless eyes from his small car seeing Eddie running around seeming to look like he was distressed.He wondered would Eddie really be better off,as he listened to him call his name. It seemed like it from what he said last night but he got out of the car,his eyes burned from crying the whole night but also no sleep. He shut the car door loud enough to let Eddie know to look over. John couldn’t bring himself to look at Eddie.

John leaned on his car,watching the man somberly,hearing the rapid steps from Eddie darting around in frantic search. He’d figured Eddie would be better with someone more normal...after all he said maybe it was better that people like them shouldn’t be together. John had spent all night trying to decide whether he should’ve turned the car around and driven back to camp. He hoped he didn’t choose wrong.

As soon as Eddie heard the car door close, he whipped around seeing the smaller distressed frame of the familiar man. Eddie took off full he speed,as fast as his older body could before flung himself at John, embracing him and swinging him around.

“Thank God you didn’t leave!” Eddie exclaimed in pure joy as he set John down from the spin.

John looked up confused but also trying to hide a blush on his cheeks.

“I know we have a lot to work out, but I am so so sorry for being an ass last night. I had a shitty band practice and so I went to get a few drinks and this one girl kept hitting on me at the bar and then I heard your song on the bus home and I…” Eddie paused himself,pulling the red head in for a hug again. “I’ve missed you so so much..I feel like I’m in Heaven right now seeing you again..” he muttered in a loving tone. Placing a gentle hand on the back of Johns head still holding him.

Eddie was crying tears of joy again. John was alive, John was safe, John was here.

John had frozen shocked by the sudden action,he didn’t know what to say. He felt happier than ever and relieved but still filled with confusion, “I’m sorry..I don’t know what I should say” he muttered in a dry voice,batting his eyes a few times while streams of tears ran down his face. Now in the arms of Eddie tightly burying his face into Eddie's upper shoulder. John's stomach said something for him with a loud growl. He blushed embarrassed and pulled away from the hug to look up at Eddie.

“I missed you Eddie...I should've tried to take you with me” John's pale frail hand wiped a tear falling,from his cheek as he let out a soft shaky breath. His stomach letting out another growl craving food once again.

Eddie just ignored the words for the time being and broke them apart for a quick moment before smooshing their lips together in a super long, 2 year delayed, kiss. It felt good to finally connect this intimately with the person he loved dearly. Suffocating one another in affection,but another growl from John’s stomach snapped them out of it,Eddie snickered as John blushed with embarrassment.

“Come back to my place, I’ll cook something. Plus I’m sure there is someone who’d love to see you right now.” Grabbing John’s hand, Eddie started to drag him in the direction of his house.

When they were reaching his apartment, he forgot to close his door and was afraid the cats got out. He quickly approached the door and looked inside, calling to his two kitty companions. He left John at the door to see if he could still find them.

“Spspspsp” He sounded out and waited. The singer walked in looking around to see Bitty pinning Leafy down who was struggling to move as he wanted to go out the door. “Good kitty! Keeping Leafy inside!” He cooed, getting them treats. “Daddy’s sorry he left in a hurry, I’ll give you extra kibble.” Both cats heard food and started to pour more into their dishes.

“You can come in now.” Eddie called, hearing the footsteps enter his home and close his front door.

Bitty lifted her head up in wonder to see who came inside her home when the kitty smelled an old but familiar smell. “Murrrrp? Merrrrp!” She ditched her food dish and ended up rubbing herself on her old cat dad. She meowed and purred vigorously when John picked her up and started laughing.

“Awww my lil Bits” He held her like a baby and gave her head small kisses “I missed you so much my lil one” he laughed softly and set her down purring loudly as she pranced over to the food bowl “I missed her,Thankyou for taking care of her Eds”

John tiredly sat down on a chair relaxing a bit as Eddie started to cook up breakfast,he looked like he was ready to fall asleep then and there. John was exhausted from his worrying, “your house is really nice,I also like the new cat” he smiled at Eddie from across the table. He fidgeted with his red hair “the girls wanna meet you Eddie..and I can’t stop thinking about it” Johns eyes were closed now,smiling at the thought of his sweet kids “my moms taking care of them right now”

Eddie smiled. “I would love to see them too John…” He got out a couple of plates. “But we need to work out what’s between us. We need to make sure it's really safe for Humans and Abbies to live together and be allowed to love each other. Things have been trying to change for the better between our species, but there’s always that loophole that continues to set everyone back.”

He dished up the food and handed one plate to John who carefully begin to take small bites to ease the food into his stomach. Eddie ate like normal, scratching Leafy’s ear when the kitty decided to beg for his food.

“No, Leaf, go eat your kibble.”

Eddie turned his attention back to John. “So… How have you been, like really been?”

John thought about the question pausing his meal,he normally tried to not think about how he was feeling. “I-...I’m tired,it’s been a rough few years raising the kids...and helping my mom with the rebellion,getting captured then breaking out of a facility.I really lucked out they didn’t find I could have kids,...we aren’t seen as humans in facilities” John gave an awkward laugh attempting to hide his grim recount,before he shoved another bite into his mouth chewing slowly. “It’s been...lonely” John had gotten sick during one of the harsher winters after he had the girls. He let out a deep breath rubbing his burning eyes. “It was actually my mom and the girls who said I should try to come back to see you…I mean I was planning to anyways, but I just wasn’t sure if my mom could watch the kids that long. Or if you’d want to even see me.” John ran his fingers through his petal filled hair,it all stressed him out. “Anyways how've you been…” John didn’t wanna tell Eddie that he longed to continue the dream of having a family with him,getting married and actually carrying the children of Eddie. He knew it would be too much to say,it’d been so long after all. He didn’t wanna rush things too fast and lose him again.

“I’ve been better.” Eddie replied. “Just been working on a new EP with the band. After a few concerts, Greenhouse was a success to my surprise. I guess it resonated with a bunch of people. Some people have called it the ‘Barrier Breaker’, saying it’s what's going to bring the people together.” He shrugged. “But who knows.”

He let out another sigh. “So you’ve mentioned you’ve broken out of a facility. But it’s legal for Humans and Abnormals to live together now. Does this mean you’re a fugitive? Does your Mom know you were taken? What about the girls?” He started spilling questions. But then he stopped.

“Sorry. But if you really are on the run, then we have to figure something out so you’re really free.”

“I was a fugitive,this wasn’t the first time I was in a facility. So when we first met I could technically be considered a fugitive,but after this break out and some political negotiations with the governor. My mother and I with a few others were able to make it legal in this state to live in city’s with regular people.” John took a deep breath trying to not overload Eddie with information. “And now a few other progressive states it’s legal,it’s making its way to the presidential office,so hopefully it’ll be countrywide soon” John had an awkward smile for a moment. “we’re working on the details about Abnormals and Regulars getting married and such” He shrugged and sat back in his chair,”Before we were together,a few years back I did some shit as a teenager that got me put in a facility” clearing his throat he continued “it’s why Quinn blew up when I asked about them taking the babies,but now, I’m not a fugitive,I’m ‘legal’ now”

Eddie felt so relieved, like his heart was mending back together.

“We should talk more but you look like you’re about to pass out. Stay for a few days, rest up and eat. I’m still in the middle of the album so I’ll be in my studio most of the day. If you need to leave…” He looked at John with seriousness, giving a warning in his tone of voice. “Tell me. If you run off again, I won’t be as forgiving.”

He got up, went to take a shower real quick then left for the studio. Eddie was elated that John was back, but he couldn’t forgive him just yet. He needed to mend his broken heart and he knew just how to do it. Eddie dried off and got dressed in pajamas,making his way down the hall. John who’d finished eating and seemed to pass out on Eddies couch.

When he walked into his studio, he got set up, texted his band about what’d happened,then began to strum his guitar. He heard only one song ringing through his head now,the song that had been haunting him for years. He closed his eyes, sliding his finger and plucking the first string, beginning to play Eden.

[writeawaytrain]

Can You Take Me Back?

A/N: Hullo, this fic was inspired by @thelexidylan (super cool and amazing, thank you for the idea hun!). This is also my first fic on tumblr, so I hope y’all enjoy! Also if you would like to request a story, click here :D

W/C: 1,898

Warnings: Mention of drugs/brief use, throwing up, a lil’ swearing.

It was a cold December night in New York City, and I trudged through the streets, not really caring where the road was going.

Could be the secondhand high from all that weed from the Bob Dylan concert, but I kept drifting alone through the streets. I didn’t think it stupid at the time, but never imagined that it would actually lead up to something.

I somehow ended up in Central Park, and I came across the Strawberry Fields. There was no one around, besides the sounds of the trees and the stars smiling down. I felt a sense of peace, either from the weed, or something, and walked around for a bit.

I spotted an old woman sitting on a bench. She looked well on in her years with the lines of time etched onto her face. She had a little cart with flowers on it, and an orange Persian-ish looking cat that stood on her shoulders.

Without thinking, I pulled out my wallet and asked her something that she probably thought as crazy (but who am I to judge), “Ma’am. This might sound weird, but I need some flowers tonight.”

She turned to me in and smiled in an odd way, “Well honey, lucky you, I’m selling—“ 

Her cat meowed.

“Oh yes, that’s right.” She turned to me, “This is Tim. Don’t pay him any mind, he’s a real sweetheart.” She then moved her cart and took out a crystal ball, filled with what looked like a dark liquid. “Now, before you buy anything, I need you to tell me what you see.”

She held up the dark orb, and swirled it in her hands. After a few seconds, I peered inside and inner smoke cleared, showing a small galaxy spotted with dewy stars and a single red rose drifting through it all.

When I told her what I saw, the lady’s cat looked at me with a Cheshire smile and hopped from her shoulder to head bunt my legs. The lady laughed and added, “Ahh. A very special someone indeed, Tim?”

Whether it was referring to me or something about the orb, I didn’t know. Regardless, she rummaged through her cart and brought out a bunch of small blue flowers.

“These are Forget-Me-Nots,” she said handing them over. “I think this is what you’re looking for, dear.”

Suddenly, a large rustle came from the tree behind me and I looked and saw it was a small barn owl. It hooted for a few seconds, and flew off into the night.

“Sorry,” I said turning back, “There was—”

I looked at the spot where the woman was, but she disappeared. Her cart was also gone, and the cat was nowhere to be seen. I was still awkwardly holding my wallet, and started on my walk when I saw a small glimmer of light where she was. On the bench was a small seashell with the letter J carved into it. I picked it up, and traced the letter, which was shining bright green. 

I sat on the bench, shell in hand and flowers in the other, and stared at the night sky. Was the woman real? Was anything real? The stars still swirled around, but I heard no answer. Returning back to the flowers tied in a red ribbon, I came up with an idea.

I looked around to make sure that no one was watching me, and sat cross-legged on the Imagine mosaic.

“Hey John,” I whispered, softly placing the flowers in the center, “It’s me again.” I looked up towards the sky, “Y’know, I just met someone real special today. Guess who?”

An owl hooted in the distance. Classic.

“I don’t know her name, but it was a lady who had a flower cart and a cat,” I sniffed, then laughed. “And she had a glass orb, y’know, like from a wizard shop.”

I wiped my nose and pulled out the seashell. “She disappeared before I could pay her, but she seemed really sweet. This seashell was all that’s left. Maybe you know her?”

The wind whispered, wiping my tears and ruffled my hair. 

“I’m guessing you do, huh?” I sniffed again. I was quiet for a little while and heard the rustling of the trees. I tried looking at the moon, but my eyes welled again.

“I know I should stop crying, but… I…“ I took a deep breath.

The stars twinkled in response.

I closed my eyes and sang: “Can you take me back where I came from, can you take me back? Can you take me back where I came from, brother can you take me back? Can you take me back? Can you take back where I came from? Can you take me back?” 

That sacred and haunting melody traveled through my whole being, and I could feel a chill running through my spine. I felt a warm feeling in my hands and opened my eyes to stare at the seashell in my hand.

The shell’s green J was glowing brightly, and I caressed it with my thumb. However, it only seemed to get brighter and hotter, to the point where I dropped it since it scorched my hands.

“Frickin’ OW!” I started at my hands and they were red, as if they were sunburnt. As far as I knew, weed couldn’t do that.

I started back at the shell and it dropped onto the center of the Imagine mosaic. 

It then rose mid-air and still shining, I heard a lady’s voice, “Would you really like to go back?”

“Uh, sure?” I stammered, both out of shock and wondering if I’d truly gone mad now.

“Very well then.” It eerily sounded like the woman in the flower cart.

Suddenly, green sparkles from the shell gathered in a swirl and surrounded me, spinning faster and faster. I felt sick and my mind spun.

“Wait-!” I was caught off inhaling sparkles, which effectively silenced my voice.

As the air became more thick, I was clawing at my neck, waiting for the torture to be over. After a few more seconds, I fell on the floor, blacking out on the mosaic.

—

When I awoke, I felt sick, and hurled onto a toilet. Wait.

I held myself up for a shaky second, and saw that my baggy sweatshirt was gone, and instead was wearing a blue sleeveless dress and a string of pearls. I even had heels.

“Oh, god,” I whispered and panicked, “Oh, god—!”

I heard a knock on the door and heard a girl’s voice, “Hey, you alright? Want me to call a taxi?”

Odd, she has accent. 

I saw the green dust that I vomited into the toilet. Without thinking I said, “No, I’m alright.”

“Gear. Be careful and get a coke next time, okay?” She tossed a coat and purse over the stall door. 

Even curiouser, 1960s slang.

She went on, “I’ll be at the bar if you need me, the boys are about to start.” Then her heels clicked away.

“Okay,” I stared at the coat. It looked like something my gran wore.

Head still spinning, I flushed the toilet and looked around the stall. There was writing and graffiti in a language that I didn’t even knew. Giving up trying to read it, I slipped on my coat and headed towards the sink. I checked myself in the mirror, and saw that my hair and makeup were really done differently too. Heavy makeup around the eyes and flat-ironed hair with straight bangs, with a beret to top it all off. 

“Is this really me?” I stared through the looking glass, “Am I dreaming?”

I pinched hard myself, and bit back a swear since my hands were still raw, “Nope, definitely real.”

I opened the door, and immediately felt the atmosphere of rock, beer, and sweat. I was facing the side of the stage, and saw the large crowd of people cheering the people onstage at the end of the song. I couldn’t see the performer’s faces in the dingy lighting, so I decided to go to the bar instead.

I found a seat, and feeling wasted, ordered a drink, “Coke, please.”

“Die Cola?” said the bartender.

I nodded, that sounded like coke. Fully realizing that the bartender spoke very little English, I wondered how I ever got drunk, if throwing up magical sparkles didn’t count. He slid me a glass, I reached into my purse to pay. 

...Except my wallet wasn’t there.

I sat there turning red, and I heard another voice, “Ah, I forgot to give you this back,” It was the same girl from the bathroom. “I’d thought I keep it for safe keeping while you were away.”

She was very pretty, she had bright brown eyes and was blonde. Somehow, looked like someone I knew.

She’d also gave me a four pills and turned back to the stage, “They’re gonna take all night, aren’t they?”

I nodded, but returned to the pills, small and unassuming, and pocketed two. With the leftovers, I just turned them around my hands, and hadn’t had a vague inkling of what they were.

I saw that one of the musicians came down from the mic and gave the blonde a kiss, “Oi,” Another kiss. “What’dya think?”

Rascal was sketched in sweat, and you could smell his trouble from a mile away. His face was masked from the shadows though, but his voice…

They broke for air, and he petted her hair whilst getting a cigarette, “Got any more prellies, love?”

She shook her head and looked away, “Didn’t you have enough already? You’ll be bouncing mad like last time,”

He took his time lighting the cig with a small dot of flame. He lifted her chin gently.

“But love, I feel like a drag,” He breathed in the smoke and accented the last word, puppy eyes and all, “Just a few more, alright?”

“Can’t. Gave my last.“ She turned to me, but also gave me a pleading look that said: “Please, don’t give him any.”

Without a beat he looked at my pills, “You gonna take those or what?” He puffed a ring in my face and I coughed. What an ass. 

I stared at the pills, and without much thought, downed the two with a sip of cola. Out of spite, probably. God knows how I’ve survived purely out of spite. 

I slammed my coke with a hard stare, “Does that answer your question, jerk?”

He looked dumbfounded, but recovered without missing a beat, “No need to have a stick up your arse,” His face was red, evidently not getting his way, and decided to saunter somewhere else. 

The girl’s eyes went as large as dinner plates, “Never thought that anyone would stand up to John. Much less any girl, ‘specially here,”

“Well, someone needed to shut him up,” You rolled your eyes. “He was puffing a train down my throat,” And asking for a fight, didn’t he?

She laughed. “Well, he can be nice sometimes, even though his aunt hates me,” She took a sip of her drink, “Ever since he was a ted, he’s been well known in Liverpool, yeah.”

Someone called out across the bar, “Hey Lennon! Need an upper?”

I spat out my drink, “Wait, you mean—?”

Oh, shit. I just pissed off John Lennon.

[ineffablelads]

Sending you a little prompt. A bughead prompt. The prompt is: Betty is sick but tries to put on brave face. Worried Jughead happens and he might make her some soup.

I told myself this was just gonna be a cute lil 500 word one shot… but my finger slipped and 1800 words later… here is a bigger one shot than I once intended. Thanks for the prompt!!!!!

Jughead sat in a crooked hunch behind his desk, head resting in his palm as he gazed at the door in the opposite corner of the classroom. A fleeting hope tightened in his chest; that Betty would walk through the door and tell him he was silly for worrying.. that she just slept in past her alarm or wanted to go get some breakfast at Pop’s before coming in today. 

Mr. Kitely faced away, writing Shakespearean phrases in his messy hooked swoops of what could almost pass as cursive. His voice rose and fell dramatically as he spewed prose- a sure sign that the conclusion of his lecture would come any moment now.

The door remained closed. Her seat remained empty.

Pictures of their dark adventures plastered the insides of his eyelids for a heavy moment. Memories of Betty always distancing herself when things were at their worst for her… of her wanting to take matters into her own hands, by herself. 

No matter how close they’d become and how much of her trust he had earned... he was beginning to see that it was just her nature. Her independent inclinations got the better of her… her hunger to prove her strength to herself. Overcoming dark challenges satiated that hunger.

He rotated his pencil back and forth between his fingers as he thought.

Usually there were some sort of tell-tale signs that would give her away before she began her sleuthing or problem-solving, though. She would get a distant look sometimes in the middle of conversations, she’d make unlikely alliances, propose strange articles, or she would ask seemingly unrelated questions out of nowhere… something.

None of that had been happening, though.

So, where was she?

Jughead’s leg began to shake up and down in a sudden bout of thick anxiety.

Finally, the bell rang.

He stayed in his seat a moment, allowing the crowd to go on ahead of him into the halls. He pulled out his phone.

No messages.

He had already texted her twice before class started. Usually, they met out front and walked to English class together. But this morning there was no sign of her. 

He racked his brain for anything important he may have forgotten.

Was she going to visit Polly and Alice at the Farm? Did she mention anything out of the ordinary? Did he do something that may have offended her?

He tried calling.

No answer.

He left a message, 

Right as he was finishing up, Archie and Veronica rounded the corner of the hallway.

Veronica sized up the empty space by his side. She exchanged a brief questioning glance with Archie.

“Where’s B?” she prodded.

Jughead shook his head.

“You haven’t heard from her?” Archie asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Radio silence.” Jughead replied.

“That’s weird.” Archie said, “I didn’t see any light on in her room this morning. But the car’s still there. I even tried knocking to see if she wanted to walk to school together… nothing.”

“Did you guys get in a fight or-” Veronica trailed off when she found she couldn’t stomach the look that was brewing on Jughead’s face.

She wrapped herself reassuringly around Archie’s arm.

“Oh my gosh, look at you two! I’m sure no news is good news. We’re talking about the same Betty Cooper, right? Because the Betty Cooper I know took down three murderers and my gargoyle of a father in the span of two years. I have complete faith that she’s fine.”

She flashed him a smile that was simultaneously sympathetic and vaguely amused.

She was right.

Out of the four of them, Betty was probably the most capable of holding her own. She was smart, she was cunning, she was… giving him a lot of anxiety.

He followed Veronica and Archie to the door of the room with the couches and vending machines then paused. Veronica had begun chattering about her latest Speakeasy plans.

“You know, I think I’m just going to go check on her to be sure. I’ll be back after gym, probably.” He said.

“Yeah, or maybe you can just be a proper rebel and not return after ditching half a day of classes. See you at Pop’s later?” Veronica smirked.

Jughead smiled, “Yeah, I’ll see you guys there.”

He set off down the hall, pushing through an unbearable crowd of his peers. 

Things had improved for the Southsiders at Riverdale High in the past few months, but it still wasn’t perfect. He could tell that people noticed him and the other Serpents a little bit more than their average peer. Their eyes always paused an extra moment whenever one of them entered a classroom. It was clear to him that people were less likely to move out of the way for them in the halls than they were for a couple of Northside pearls like Veronica or Archie.

And anyways, people liked to have an excuse to sneer at him when they forced him to push through them. Big guys like Reggie liked the opportunity to shove him or cast half-witted jeers as he elbowed past, even before he joined the Serpents. But now, especially, that he was their king.

Sometimes he wondered if the only one anchoring him to this place with it’s dirty halls and dirty looks was Betty.

Sometimes he wondered if the only one anchoring him through all the insanity of his life in general was her.

But it was like Zelda Fitzgerald once wrote in a letter to her husband Scott, 

“Why is there happiness and comfort and excitement where you are and no where else in the world?” 

He smiled to himself. Betty Cooper had turned him cheesy. Had it really only been a couple of years since the lonely beginning of sophomore year? Had he really gone most of his lifetime blind to how much more incredible it could be with her not just as his friend he met through Archie, but a warrior Queen fighting by his side?

He swung the doors to the parking lot open and scanned the lot for his bike. The brisk morning air clung heavily to his clothes, leaving dew drops on the faux wool peeking out of his denim jacket. As he crossed the lot, a thin bite of wind shredded coolly at his face.

There was something about mounting his bike and bringing it roaring to life that made Jughead feel a little more alive than he was the moment before. Something about making himself vulnerable to fate and circumstance tickled his poetic existentialism in a way driving a car never could. The tires of the bike skidded precariously over the rain-soaked blacktop as he turned onto the main road. For a brief moment, his mind emptied itself of the morning’s anxieties and he was just a rush of stark senses.

He loved that his motorcycle refused to shield him from the elements. If it was snowy, he’d feel snowflakes caking his clothes, bristling at his skin. If it was hot, he’d feel the sun beating down directly into his flesh. Now that it was rainy, the precipitation soaked right into his clothes and the resulting cold seeped deep into his bones.

In a car you could feel numb. You could turn on a heater on a snowy day and feel as warm as the summertime. You could lie.

On his motorcycle, he was honest. About the weather. About where he was coming from and where he was going. 

On his motorcycle, he was a person who faced things head on.

And so he did, pulling into Betty Cooper’s driveway that drizzly morning. He slid his helmet off and threw it onto the seat. In an instinctual instant, he had his beanie settled over his hair again. He knocked on the front door and pushed a tuft of hair from his eyes. The rain had picked up. He wished he’d brought his serpent jacket instead of his fluffy jean coat. 

He stuck his hands in his pockets and did his best to dry them. Then he sent Betty a text.

Hey, I’m at your house. Can you let me in?

-Message read.

He let out a defeated sigh and leaned against the door frame, planning his next move.

But the longer he waited for some sort of response… any sort of response, the more out of control his anxious thoughts became. 

What if one of Hiram’s goons was still out there and came to get comeuppance over his arrest? What if one of the Black Hood’s crazy fanatics came after her? What if one of the remaining Ghoulies found her to “create chaos”? 

“One can find so many pains in the rain.”

John Steinbeck’s quote interrupted his thoughts. He remembered reading it over the summer.

He felt the author’s quote spinning around his head, as though to tease him… but maybe also a godsend to distract him from the dark train of thought he had been spiraling through.

“Jug?” 

Betty’s big, warm hazel eyes peeked through the slightly opened door. A set of sniffles followed.

He moved into plain sight and waved meekly, soaked.

“Oh my god, Jughead!” she croaked, sniffling some more and practically throwing him into the house.

He laughed, looking up at her in starry-eyed relief. She was in her pink, fluffy pajama bottoms. One of his “S” t-shirts hung loosely around her shoulders along with a cozy blanket. She padded away, barefoot on the hardwood floors, and came rushing back with a set of towels and a box of tissues.

Jughead pulled off his boots and left them in the entryway, upside down. 

“What’s wrong?” Betty asked, “Why are you here?”

He gaped at her, incredulous.

“I was worried. You weren’t at school and you hadn’t responded to any of my messages. Archie said he didn’t see you leave this morning and-”

She sniffled once more, head cocked sympathetically to the side in that way Jughead knew all too well. Here she was comforting him when she was the sick one.

He tensed. He knew his anxiety had been getting worse over the years… but ever since the debacle with Hiram Lodge- it was like he couldn’t stop the warning lights from going off in his head anymore.

“I guess I still worry that it’s not over.” he whispered.

Betty took one of his cheeks in the palm of her hand.

“Maybe it’s never over.” she mused, “but we’ll never be able to live happy lives if we let ourselves believe that.”

There it was: Betty Cooper and her brave face.

She smiled at him as she came forward and pulled off his jacket and flannel. She threw them in the drier, along with his socks and hat that he threw in himself.

“Erm, did Chic happen to leave any pants behind here that I could borrow?” he asked.

Betty reddened.

“No, we uh- we burned his belongings after I handed him over to the Black Hood. You know… to be sure.”

Jughead raised his eyebrows.

“But… we could check the guest room Archie stayed in when Fred went to Chicago freshman year. Maybe he left something behind?”

He nodded.

Once he was switched into one of the flannels she had borrowed from him some time ago and pulled on some of Archie’s old jeans, he came downstairs and found Betty leaning in a state of pungent exhaustion against the counter, blowing her nose.

He shuffled forward excitedly and scooped her up into his arms, spinning her around once.

Together, they spun from the hardwood floor of the dining room to the squishy rug of the living room. Jughead collapsed down onto the couch, bringing a ball of sniffling Betty Cooper with him.

They pressed their foreheads together in a gesture of momentary oneness.

Betty pulled away first.

“I don’t want to get you sick, too.” She worried.

“That is the least of my worries.” he responded. “Right now, all I’m worried about is making you feel better.”

She gave him a puzzled look.

Jughead cradled her once more as he stood up and set her back down on the sofa.

“I am going to take care of you for once!” he announced. A self-satisfied smirk crossed his face as he leaned forward, kissed her on the forehead, and tucked in her blanket.

Betty quirked an eyebrow but did not protest. Instead she leaned back into the arms of the comfortable sofa and accepted the oncoming pampering.

Jughead left nothing in his reserves. He set up candles around the room to replace the strain of bright light bulbs. He started up the fireplace. He brought her tissues and cough drops and ibuprofen that he must have found after about ten minutes of frustratedly rummaging through the pantry and cursing Alice’s organization. He even had something cooking on the stove that smelled delicious.

Betty watched with adoration as he doted by whatever he was making in the other room, humming happily to himself.

“Eureka!” he shouted.

Betty did all she could to keep from snorting out her laughter.

She failed.

Jughead waltzed in wearing her mother’s lacy, flowery cooking apron and an oven mitt over his haphazard rain outfit. In the mitt was a bowl of piping hot soup he set on the coffee table before her.

He beamed.

“AND!” he shouted. Before she could say anything, he’d run back into the kitchen and eagerly shuffled back with a steaming tea cup.

“A meal fit for a Queen! Bon appetit.” he said in the worst french accent she’d ever heard. He bowed dramatically, a smile curled joyfully around the sides of his mouth.

Betty sniffed again and made her best effort to inhale a waft of the soup’s smell. It was a homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese- just like what she would get at Pop’s. The tea was her favorite relaxing green tea.

Her eyes flickered up to Jughead’s. She stretched her arms forward, beckoning him to come snuggle her. 

He happily obliged.

[insideedensgate]

Jacob Seed/Staci Pratt - Stripper and Sugar Daddy AU

This alternate universe has NO abusive content and it stays in NO connection to original relationship which is based on abuse and torture of various forms.

I do not support abusive relationships, nor do I condone that the original basis of this ships lies within such an abusive contact!

But, and because I think these two could probably be adorable, if moved out of their original universe (and being less abusive and inhuman in certain ways), I decided to try this alternate universe out.

With Jacob not being an abusive monster and Staci being of full control of his actions, his mind and his body.

I decided to inform y’all, that I do not support any abuse or non-consent plot and the basis of the here presented relationship in this piece is not based on any of this.

Thank you very much. x

please klick the keep reading to - yeah, keep reading

nsfw-ish

english is not my mother tongue

also, this was heavily inspired by Frank Ocean's “Pyramids”

Staci started working in that luxurious, upper class strip club in Beverly Hills two years ago

he was trying to get into police school back in the days but they eventually didn't accept him to a lack of physical condition

so he started to train more to try again and eventually fell in love with dancing during that process

his best friend Joey Hudson, he knows her since high school, recently started her part time job as a bar keeper at Eden's Gate (she got a bullet in her leg during her second car chase and had to retire, caused by some nerve issues) and got him the job as a dancer

at first, Staci only wanted to stay for a few month and then find something more reputable, but he soon learned that the dim lights, luxurious and elegant interior as well as the loud music was everything he ever wanted in life

one evening, Grace had called herself sick for the week and it was Staci's time to shine on the club's main stage, he enters the club

Staci is overwhelmed by the red hair, the trimmed beard and the two thousand dollar Gucci suit (he's not a gold digger, he honestly isn't, but a beautiful man with a lot of money and a speedy car? He might drop his panties down a lil' bit)

he also immediately recognized this man as Jacob Seed, the older brother of Joseph Seed, the main investor of the club – and shit, he's fucked as the red haired man moves straight to his table

he only heard rumours about him once being a lawyer for war crimes at the UN and that had to retreat from his position, caused by some dubious incidents no one truly knows of and thus, he is now back in LA, assisting his younger brother John and his famous law firm Seed and Partners

there is some very unspectacular guy sitting right in front of Staci and he feels goosebumps rolling over his body as Jacob literally makes him leave by one of the club's bodyguards – just by a simple dismissive wave of his hand

he sits down and unbuttons his jacket and leans back in the expensive armchair, the whole suit is dark with light pinstripes and a fucking light blue bee pattern

Staci flushes as Jacob grins at him sublimely from below, two fingers gesturing for Staci to come closer

and he drops down on his knees, it is like he is fucking high like that Amanda girl from table 6, when she smokes that stuff Timothy brings in - everything just happens so naturally, the way he founds himself crawling towards the edge of the table

and god, is that man beautiful, his hair looking like liquid copper in the dimmed lights of the club, the dark blue of his suit melting together with the burgundy red of the chair and Staci's world is spinning as he presses his chest to the cold, solid table while pushing his hips up

“Aye, Peaches”, the not so unfamiliar man hums after he let his gaze wander over Staci's body a few times, “Knew you were what I was looking for when I came through that door.” “And what are you looking for, Sir?”, Staci smiles nonchalantly, rolling on his back and aching it, hooking his fingers playfully under the waistband of his expensive lace panties, soaking up every second of the blue eyed gaze darted onto him

when he leaves the club late at night, he has three thousand dollars to spent on his own and he hurries the fuck up, considering the cities' areas he has to cross to get home (he is actually so fucking scared he is getting robbed, but he also doesn't think of taking a taxi either)

 the second he comes home he hides the money under his bed and locking the front door twice and he is pretty sure he just heard gun shots down the road

the next day he takes Grace's place again at 8pm (“If that girl isn't seriously ill I'm gonna rip her extensions off”, Mary whines and Staci laughs at that) and there he is again, 9pm on the second, front seat

“Good evening, Peaches”, he mouths as he sits down and opens his jacket, the suit even fancier today, yet still suiting his red hair and Staci's cheeks turn red, his smile shy and Jacob genuinely laughs at that

and that's the game they play for the following two weeks, cat and mouse, Staci dancing for Jacob and only Jacob (“Nice to see you again, Mr Seed”) even though there are other people around they feel so isolated from the world when they see each other, Staci getting paid like he has never been before with the goal to impress the oldest Seed a little bit more every night

one night Jacob isn't around, the front seat taken by some guy who's sixty or what, and Staci honestly feels humiliated (He has found out, during his exceptional research, that Jacob is in his late 40s, which surprisingly doesn't disgust him at all, no he thinks of it as so attractive, “He is way too hot to be that age”)

when he arrives back in the dressing room there's a small white card, with neat black ink inviting him to Providence the same night

underneath the card is a slim black box, containing a fucking 800 dollar suit in dark green velvet

when he arrives there (this time he didn't even had to consider calling a taxi - someone, Jacob's driver as it becomes apparent, is picking him up in a black Mercedes), the whole restaurant is empty and Jacob is sitting there all by himself, and Staci shouldn't be so surprised but he probably booked the whole restaurant

it is one of the most comfortable date nights (he has to calm the fuck down, he is something like this guy's personal stripper, don't get too emotionally attached there - so he tells himself) Staci had in a long time, they talk about this and that and he eventually, just a little bit, feels his stomach tingle and becoming warmer by the minute

Jacob drives him home, after he had Staci mumble the address three times because he was too ashamed to speak it out loud - “So, this is where you live, Peaches?”, hand softly caressing his thigh, which feels so right “Uh, yes. I know it's not, I mean like - “, “Quite dangerous around here, are you sure you don't want to come with me?” and he would love to, but Jacob has already done so much for him, he just doesn't want to be a burden or something like that

he lays awake until the early hours of the next day, worrying if he pissed Jacob off, if he'll ever see him again

but he does, the next time he has a shift, Jacob is there again, taking a sip of his club soda – with scotch he assumes - on ice as Staci walks out on the stage and all the previous anxiety falls off his shoulders

and lord, he can see Jacob's arousal so clearly from up there, the glass in his hand near his mouth slowly tarnishing, the way he spreads his legs is so obvious it makes a familiar heat rise in Staci's belly

that night, they fuck for the first time and Staci doesn't want it to end ever, everything feels so fulfilling, so right and divine, like it was always meant to be this way, the way Jacob fills him up, makes him sore and leaves him greedy, begging for more and screaming out his name in pure, innocent pleasure

when he wakes up, some five star, many Michelin star prized hotel has delivered an overwhelming amount of fruits and pastries for breakfast and he feels like he is still at sleep, dreaming in his small ass bed in his flat, when he sees Jacob standing at the oven in dark blue silk underwear, brewing coffee and making pancakes

“Mornin' Peaches, I hope you slept well”, and the way he emphasizes his words makes Staci so greedy, washing his still tired body with the hot pleasure of lust

Jacob takes him right there, on the kitchen counter two times before they actually move on to breakfast and it is so peaceful, a lot of laughter and shared stories and Staci suddenly realizes, nearly choking on his strawberries, that it feels like fucking home

after a few days of seeing Jacob on a daily basis, fucking and making out, going out for expensive dinner Staci finds a small box once again

it's a key and an address somewhere in South Park, 20 minutes from the club

“Jacob, no. No, I am not going to accept that”, and even through the speaker of his phone he can hear that beautiful laugh that makes him hot all over, “Why not, Peaches? I thought it would suit you. Also, I don't have to be afraid any more that you'll get shot or robbed – or both, or worse.”, “Jacob, there's no way I'm gonna accept this fucking penthouse”, “Language, Peaches”, Jacob warns, but Staci can literally see the smug grin on the other end of the phone

“Fuck it, he's officially your sugar daddy, no matter what you say, Stace!”, Grace laughs when he tells her that his address changed, and Hudson nearly drops one of the fresh polished glasses. “No, he's not! He was just concerned!”, Stacie tries to protest but he knows she's right and he should feel dubious or shady or like a hooker but he doesn't at all

“Good evening, Peaches”, Jacob whispers into Stacie's ear, his trimmed beard tickling the back of his shoulder as he presses gentle kisses on the soft skin and he leans into the touch, carefully dropping the brush he just applied some highlighter with

“Daddy's boy is looking good”, Jacob continues, sending shivers of anticipation down Stacie's spine, “Do you promise to look even better when I pick you up later, Peaches?” “Yes, Jacob”, Staci whispers and smiles at him in the mirror “Good boy, keep your beautiful head up Peaches. And don't forget that I love you - Staci”, he winks and leaves the dressing room and Staci to himself, blushing in a deep red with a whole fucking swarm of bees starting a love-riot in his stomach

[tb5-heavenward]

flight hours

continuing from here, wherein we come to the conclusion of our story, and there's a lil bit of a twist at the end. also expect an epilogue. later.

7

In the suddenness of the relative silence and stillness the exertion catches up to him. Scott gets caught for a few precious seconds, on his knees and breathing hard, his limbs tremoring slightly with unspent adrenaline. The inside of his helmet grows abruptly claustrophobic and he pulls it off, feels the impact in his kneecaps as bounces off the floor in front of him. Without it, the next breath he takes fills his lungs with the choking scent of electrical smoke, burnt metal, spent fuel. The things Brains designs are less likely than most to burst into flame, even when badly damaged, but it's still better safe than sorry. Scott stumbles a little getting to his feet, scrambling for a can of fire retardant, nearly tripping over John as he goes for it.

Considering the concerns he has about the current status of his brother's spine subsequent to being tackled in midair by a hostile drone nearly twice his size---tripping over him would probably sbe bad and unhelpful. John hasn't so much as twitched since they got back aboard, crumpled on his side where Scott let him drop.

The reasons he's got to be concerned about his brother's spine are starting to catch up with him, a brewing storm of fear and anger and anxiety, with the faintest silver lining of relief that it hadn't been worse, like lightning at the edges of thunder clouds. He still doesn't know that John isn't just dead. He hasn't checked. Scott's just been acting like he isn't, like that's impossible; something that just couldn't have happened on what was supposed to be a simple, straightforward run, a basic rescue, practically a stone's throw from the island. It's not optimism as much as it is the simple, staunch refusal to believe the worst, that today could've gone so wrong, so suddenly.

The first thing he does is douse the smoking, sparking place at the back of the exosuit, stifling it with fire retardant foam that hisses out of the can he'd grabbed. This immediately snuffs out the smoke, neutralizes any leaking fuel. He sets the cannister aside and kneels down, leans over to get a proper look at his brother, carefully shifting the bulk of the exosuit so that John's no longer lying twisted on his side.

And he's rewarded with a (blank, slightly unfocused) stare from a pair of bright green eyes, even as he reaches for John's wrist in search of a pulse. He ends up grabbing his brother's hand and squeezing instead, gets a feeble twitch of his fingers in response.

Scott hadn't quite realized how potent the relief would be, but it floods into him like oxygen. Real relief is like a proper strike of lightning, instead of just the faint silver edges of hope. He feels the tension in his jaw finally relax as he breaks into a grin, smiling down at his brother, though the first thing he can think to say is, "You absolute fucking moron."

John can't hear him, with his radio off and his helmet still on, but he seems to recognize that Scott's said something and he blinks, confused. Scott just sighs and shakes his head, starts to move through basic triage. The exosuit is bulky and ungainly and awkward and very much in Scott's way, but it does prevent John from moving too much, as Scott continues a quick assessment. He puts a hand on his brother's shoulder and squeezes gently, hoping John takes this as an indication to hold still, but his eyes have fallen closed again, and there's no response. Scott doesn't like that, and he frowns to himself as he toggles his HUD for a basic medical overview.

A preliminary scan reveals no broken bones, no evidence of severe internal trauma, beyond some minor bruising. Scott chalks up the exosuit as another miracle of Brains' engineering, because after the impact his brother had suffered, Scott had expected to see all manner of damage; broken bones and bruised organs. But the suit had clearly taken the bulk of the force from the impact, absorbed and distributed, just the same way as John's blues have absorbed and diffused the drone's final electric discharge. Scott sighs again and raps his knuckles lightly on the clear perspex face of John's helmet. "C'mon," he mutters, and there's another little burst of relief as John blinks up at him again. Scott raps a little harder, this time on the exosuit. "Hold still," he says, loud and clear so his brother gets the message. "Gonna get you outta this thing."

John just closes his eyes again, but he also lifts a hand, flashes a quick thumbs-up. Scott takes this to mean About damn time, and obligingly gets to work.

The exosuit weighs about a hundred pounds and while this is impressively light considering its capabilities, it's still about a hundred pounds of dead weight. Scott slots open a panel on the chest piece and hunts down a bright red lever. He twists it to unlock the mechanism, then pulls it sharply, and the suit disengages at four major points of articulation, popping open at the shoulders and hips, the chest piece coming loose so that Scott can pull it off and put it aside. It's a little bit like shucking an oyster. Not for the first time, he's grateful for the fact that Brains thinks of everything.

He catches John's shoulder as his brother shifts, and then he's careful, patient, as he helps him ease up into a sitting position, and then lever himself off the shell of his exosuit to sit flat on the floor of TB1's cargo bay, ducking his head to pull off his helmet. This thuds hollowly on the floor as John drops it, but his shoulders stay bowed and he doesn't look up, one hand pressed against his forehead and the other leaning his weight against his knee. This all seems to bode well for the state of his neck and spine, though Scott's a little unsettled by the speed and the shallowness of his breathing. "John?" he prompts. "You with me?"

"Mm. Mmhm." Scott had been hoping for words, and after a few more deep breaths, John manages to pull himself together. The first thing he says is still dazed and disconnected, and an entirely stupid question besides, "...did...did I fall?"

"Yeah, Johnny."

"Oh." He falls silent for a few moments, and then sounds much younger than usual as he asks, "...did you catch me?"

Scott can't help a bit of a chuckle at that, and the hand he's rested on his brother's back reflexively offers a few comforting pats. "All part of the service," he jokes, though it very nearly wasn't funny, and the degree to which John's still disoriented with respect to what's happened is concerning.

"I fell, though?"

"A little."

"...a little?"

"Well. Freefall for maybe twenty seconds. About half a mile, by my reckoning. I can probably get the telemetry to tell you exactly---" John shudders bodily at the mere mention, so Scott quickly appends, "---but I think you probably don't need to know that."

John shakes his head. "Nn. No, I th-think---"

Scott doesn't get to find out whatever his brother thinks, as his back spasms beneath Scott's hand, and he gasps shakily, then throws up on the floor.

"...Okay." Scott's caught him reflexively as he pitched forward, braced an arm across his collarbone. His other hand rubs down the ridge of John's spine as he coughs a few times, retches once, and then shudders again. He doesn't try to sit back up, just hunches forward with his head bowed towards his knees, and his breathing grows shallow again. At least now Scott's got a better idea about why. "All right. Right. So. Is that just late onset motion sickness, or did you hit your head?"

John groans and doesn't catch the sarcasm. Scott catches the way his voice has gotten a little slurred, as he answers, "Depends. 's'Thunderbird One spinning clockwise or counter-clockwise right now?"

"Thunderbird One is cruising on autopilot, flying perfectly straight and level."

"...then I think probably I hit my head."

"Yeah, no shit."

Before he can upbraid his brother for his recklessness, to say nothing of the quality of his flying, there's a chime from the comm in his sash, and Kayo speaks up, "I'm here, just got a visual on Thunderbird One, and...and everything else. What the hell happened? You two made a mess."

Scott grimaces. "We had help."

"I'm tracking debris from multiple collisions, at least a dozen drones still in free fall, the cargo plane you were meant to be evaccing is in the ocean---and is that---did John lose a wing?"

"John also lost consciousness for a solid minute and a half."

"...Is he okay?"

John lifts his head slightly at this, blinks his eyes back open, turns his face towards Scott's open comm. "M'fine," he offers. "Hi. Kayo. Glad you made it. Let's go home."

This last sentence blurs into essentially one word, and Scott rolls his eyes, exasperated for some reason he can't quite put his finger on. "Disregard, Shadow. He is not fine and we're gonna head for the hospital and get him looked at. At least they're already expecting us."

"FAB." There's a note of guilt in Kayo's tone, palpable remorse. "I'm sorry I didn't get here faster. This was...god, Scott. I'm gonna need a full debrief once we've landed. This could've been bad."

Scott's aware. "We're both still in one piece," he assures her instead, deliberately refusing to think about just how bad things could've been. "John'll be okay once we get him checked out."

"Do you want an escort?"

Scott's still sitting beside his brother with an arm around his chest, halfway into the closest thing to a hug that John's tolerated in ages, at least where Scott's considered. This is probably less of a hug and more just the desire not to fall over. Scott's pretty sure the last confirmed instance of anyone getting a hug from John was Alan, on Alan's sixteenth birthday. There's photographic evidence, even. But between the nausea and the dizziness resulting from what's likely a mild concussion, John doesn't seem in a hurry to move, and Scott's not in a hurry to move him. He can fly from here, but there are easier options, and Kayo's presented one of the easiest.

"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good, thanks. I'm gonna stay put and make sure John's okay. I'll set the autopilot to tail you. Just keep an eye on the skies, I think we'd both feel better if we were ready for any more surprises."

"You got it, Scott. I'll let you know when we're on approach."

"Thanks, Kayo. Thunderbird One, engage Protocol Shadow."

Scott's right arm is still pinned where John's leaned his weight against it, still slumped forward where he sits. Scott absently pats his back again, and then flicks his wrist just-so, just to double check his flight control. He watches as the control matrix switches over to tracking their sister's flight path, and feels the ship dip slightly beneath them, as TB1 adjusts to follow Shadow's flight pattern and then levels off again. John groans about this, too, protesting the sudden movement.

"Oh, you're okay, you big damn baby," Scott chides gently, but he rubs the heel of his hand up and down John's spine, then feels guilty when his brother shudders again, and hesitantly asks, "...You are okay, right?"

There's no immediate answer, and probably it's asking a little much to expect one, but eventually John gives him another thumbs up, and then continues not to say anything.

That's probably fair. Scott checks their ETA again---about another fifteen minutes out, travelling at near top speed, for the hospital in Brisbane where they'd planned to take their phantom pilot. They've already got flight clearance, it's just a shame they're going to have to use it. Scott sighs to himself, starts to mentally rearrange the rest of the month around the fact that John's going to need at least two weeks of downtime, someone to sub in for him up on TB5, a new exosuit. And this is to say nothing of the sobering reality that the Mechanic had laid a trap within spitting distance of Tracy Island, sudden and vicious, and with an apparently deadly intent.

He should probably say something about that, but one minute of silence becomes two, and two turn into three, and it's actually not so bad just to sit next to his brother, in the cargo bay of his Thunderbird, letting the adrenaline bleed off. It's a reminder of how rare John's presence actually is, and how lucky he'd been to have him today. There hadn't been time for hindsight during the course of the action, but the more Scott thinks about it, the more he comes to the same conclusion John had drawn, easily and immediately. He's been worrying about his brother ever since the situation first started going sideways, but it's pure luck that he wasn't killed himself. Solo, it's almost certain he would've been.

He should definitely say something about that.

It takes him another solid minute, but he finally clears his throat, and offers, "---You know, you're not a shitty pilot."

He probably could've come up with something better than that, but it still gets John to lift his head. He shifts slightly where he's sitting, so that Scott removes the arm he'd had around his shoulder, and then shakes his head. "No, I'm not," he agrees.

He sounds tired, rightfully so, and Scott winces, tries again, "I shouldn't have said that. Sorry."

John shrugs. "As a general rule, I disregard about ninety percent of the shit you feel the need to say."

Scott scoffs, and knows it isn't true. He knocks an elbow lightly into his brother's ribs. "Took that one pretty personally, though."

"Well, then there's that one time in ten."

"I'll take those odds."

"Yeah, well, you would."

That's more like it. Scott grins, and in deference to his brother's concussion, refrains from ruffling his hair. He punches John lightly in the shoulder instead, and then says the thing he should've said in the first place, "Thanks, John. Really."

"Oh, you're welcome." There's a pause, slightly self-conscious. And then it's with a credible absence of guile and a probable absence of memory that John cautiously inquires, "...uh, for what, though?"

end

(epilogue forthcoming)

[gurl2irl-blog]

THE LIVING by River Stastny

"The Living" is a preliminary iteration of a trans-futurist reworking of the cult classic movie They Live by John Carpenter, complete with the outlandish imagery and camped up violence of 80's sci fi movies, but with very different protagonists. Geo Nada, our hero, and her group of trans anarchist friends, take us on a comic romp of alien cop killings and questions what it means do "do the right thing". 

CHAPTER 1

A wave of red shone like blood, glittering as it passed through a circle of light at the center of the stage, and opened with a thunderous overture.

Sitting in the third row, nervously readjusting her ill-fitting skirt over hairy, fishnet encased legs, Geo Nada played with the mask in her lap. It was somewhat cartoonish, crudely made and with a multicolored skeleton face printed on the front of it, and had diffraction lenses glued to the back.

The Hypnotist stepped out, wearing a latex catsuit emblazoned with a red circle and a cross underneath it, the ancient pagan symbol for ‘female’. This kind of gendered iconography had been abolished for decades, so Nada was surprised to see it used here, although she also remembered when, forced to be a little boy, she would draw the symbol on her face with lipstick stolen from her mother, or often, secretly write it in her notebooks next to her name to see how it looked.

She was instructed to put on the mask. Suddenly her vision was crystallized into countless shards of rainbow-brite light, and the Hypnotist looked wet, glycerinated by the oil slick splinters produced by the lenses. Nada was mesmerized, drawn in by the way the colors glinted off her glossy thighs and lips.

“Wake up”.

Nada read the words on the Hypnotist’s swollen cherry lips before she heard them.

“Wake up”.

Suddenly, Nada awoke all the way. This had never happened before.

She registered the glimmer of the rubbery Hypnotist, still seductive under the hot, dusty glow of the spotlight, and looked around.

Geo Nada blinked out at the sea of faces in the theatre, at first unaware of anything out of the ordinary. Then she noticed, spotted here and there in the crowd, the skinless, diaphanous faces of the Skels.

They had been there all along, of course, but only she was really awake, so only she recognized them for what they were.

She looked at them, laughing, the smoke from their cigarettes floating in and out of their hollow open skulls, and then peered over her diffraction glasses. The illusion was broken. They transformed back into seemingly innocuous people, flesh regrowing through the empty cavity of their head and bodies.

Nada squinted, and put the mask back on, and the Skels became something else. Their flesh contorted even further, forming multiple eyes and muscusy orifices, their bodies pulsating with raw, pink material that moved gelatinously, recompromising itself from moment to moment.

She was horrified, but understood everything in a flash, including the fact that if she were to give any outward sign, the Skels would instantly command her to return to her former state of unknowing, and she would be forced to obey.

Nada left the theatre, pushing out into the neon night, carefully avoiding any indication that she saw their vacant bodies or fluorescent pink flesh or the multiple beaming yellow eyes of these alien cohabitors of the earth.

One of them asked her, “Got a light honey?” Geo gave her a light, then moved on.

She walked down the street, her pointy heeled boots clicking rhythmically against the metallic pavement that flickered with the reflection of the holo screens that hung high above, promising to fill the internal void with luxury vacations, chemical substances, and increasingly more lackluster and minimalistic designer clothing items.

Glancing up at the advertisements, Nada now saw them for what they were. Empty Skel faces, captioned with sinister slogans such as “Consume, not create”, “Conform”, and “Stay Asleep”.

A Holo-blast notification appeared before her eyes, but she was quick to dismiss it, fearing what she would see. Did they know that she was awake?

“I can’t possibly escape,” thought Nada. “Why fight them?”

But maybe she could.

What if she could awaken others? That might be worth a try.

She walked twelve blocks to the DIY space that her longtime friend and sometimes lover, Lil, ran and lived above. Despite being somewhat of a lazy extremist and a heavy conformist to the punk aesthetic, Geo thought that Lil’s anarchist ideologies made them a good candidate to share her sudden knowledge with. Perhaps she wouldn’t be taken as a complete lunatic.

Nada’s head was spinning, and she struggled to keep her thoughts straight. She was aware of a distinct, embodied want to follow the alien commands brewing deep within her stomach, and she began to feel nauseous. Still she resisted.

She turned the corner on Wyckoff and knocked twice on Lil’s heavily stickered and graffitied door, once timidly, and once great urgency and force, for she could see at the distant end of the block the hollow form of a Skel approaching, its gossamer body seeming to disappear into itself. She heard the dog barking and then heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. Lil answered the door, their short black hair greasy and sticking straight out, in a big black t-shirt and shorts weighed down by various chains. They were wearing their customary grimey Doc Martens encrusted with ancient spray paint that had cracked like marble, revealing the many technicolor layers underneath.

“What do you want?” said Lil.

“I want you to wake up,” said Geo.

“I’m awake,” they replied. “Come on in.”

She went in. The HV was playing. She turned it off.

“No,” she said. “I mean really wake up.”

She explained everything to the best of her ability, even offering them the makeshift mask from the Hypnotist’s show to try on. Lil had tried to hold back their amusement, but was unsuccessful, soon interrupting Nada’s tale with a peal of laughter.

“Geo, I’ve heard you say some pretty crazy shit. But this one is really good! I’m not a fucking idiot, and you’re not going to be able to convince me that things are actually run by a bunch of shape-shifting aliens - humans are bad enough as it is.”

Nada made a noise of intense exasperation and covered her ears. She could hear the HoloVision sets of the neighbors through the walls. Most of the time the voices were human, but now and then she heard the arrogant, yet strangely soothing whisper of the aliens. “Obey the government,” said one hiss. “We are the government, ” said another. “We are your friends, you’d do anything for a friend, wouldn’t you?”

They heard a knock on the door. Nada took her hands off from over her ears and opened her eyes, to see Lil noticeably less amused. “Geo, are you alright?”

“Lil.” replied Nada, her voice hardening. “You are my friend right?”

“Geo-”

“Are you my friend?”

“Yes.”

“Lil. I need you to answer me something.”

“Anything.”

“Do you have any weapons?”

There was another knock on the door. Nada saw Lil’s face fall as they realized all at once that she wasn’t kidding.

Sheepishly, Lil procured a pair of silver pistols from the back of their closet. “Ascaso, like the ones the anarquistas used during our Civil War” they said proudly. “Reproductions.” Lil’s ancestors came from Spain, a heritage that they struggled to hold on to despite the pressures of universality and cultural amalgamation that plagued the contemporary discourse. Despite their never-give-a-fuck attitude, Lil had somewhat of a flair for the dramatic.

Another knock.

“Do they work?” Geo asked nervously. “What do we need for this thing? Bullets?”

“Don’t be stupid.” replied Lil, flicking off the safety and pointing it at a glass on the table to reveal a red beam of light extending from the target back to the muzzle of the gun. “Shoots rays-- I had them converted last year, you know, just in case.” She fired once and shattered the glass with a satisfying zing, although the raygun itself remained disturbingly silent.

“Lil, you’re a sick sonofabitch, I can’t believe you’ve had these this whole time.” Lil smiled, revealing the smudge of black lipstick on their teeth.

“What, you mean you didn’t already prepare for the knowledge that our world was actually run by a bunch of squishy pink polymorphic aliens commanding us to obey through subliminal messaging? You should feel lucky that I am such a sicko.” They tossed the other pistol to Nada who caught it, awkwardly. “Now go answer the door.”

It was one of the aliens.

“Geo Nada?”

The glowing eyes and pulsating flesh faded a little and she saw the flickering image of a fat middle-aged man dressed in a cop uniform. It was still a man when Geo decapitated it with the ray gun, but it was an alien before it hit the floor. She dragged it into the hallway, blue-green blood still gurgling in its throat, and kicked the door shut.

“By any means necessary, huh?” she said, grinning, one foot on the melting corpse as if it were a hunting prize. She drove her heel in a little, investigating the soft elasticity of its flesh.

“You’re starting to scare me. But it’s also kind of hot.”

Nada blushed, and started to try to say something, but was cut off.

“You know Geo, I think I might be awake.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and we need to get the fuck out of here.” said Lil, gesturing at the formless body still bleeding out on the dingy, foot and paw stained carpeting. “They’ll be looking for you.”

Geo tucked her pistol into the waistband of her fishnets, feeling the still-warm plasma soaking into the skin on her stomach.

“I am awake.” she whispered to herself. “I am awake. I am awake. I am awake.”

She pressed her eyes shut tightly and opened them again, noticing the way that her vision reappeared from the blackness, and she felt new again. She was no longer scared.

“There’s something I have to do” said Nada with great resolve. Lil shuddered at the way she seemed to look right through them. “I think I’m ready.”

CHAPTER 2

Geo’s heels tapped forcefully against the platinum streets, a battalion of two marching to go away to war. Lil trailed behind, glancing over their shoulder every couple of seconds. But Nada didn’t break her gaze.

“I hope you know where the fuck we are going.” said Lil. “I didn’t even ask to be a part of this whole thing and now there’s a telepathic alien bleeding out on my carpet. Maybe shit like this is why we don’t hang out as much anymore Geo, you ever think of that?”

She spun to face them. “Lil. We are going somewhere safe, don’t worry. I didn’t ask for any of this either. You’re my best friend and I need your help. Even if you don’t give a fuck about the fate of our planet, do it for me, because I’m going to die trying.”

“Nice speech.” They scoffed, barely able to hide the strong effect of her words that pumped frightened blood, cold and fast through their chest, pulsing underneath their tough exterior.

“Just don’t be a dick.”

They two soon arrived at The Base, a film library that also served as a front for the real operation, the local chapter of TQILA, The Queer Insurrection and Liberation Army. The group was lead by Jupiter, a tall, muscular and very angry anarchist babe with a afro-halo of gold that often caught the light, making her look otherworldly and transcendental, despite the constant scowl on her face and smell of cigarettes that perhaps would suggest a more earthly residence.

As soon as they were through the door, they were swarmed.

“Are you alright?” “What the fuck happened?” “We saw you on the news!” “You shot a cop?” “There was a holoblast about it just a minute ago!” “You two are fucked-”

“How many people did you kill?” asked Jupiter.

“Not people.” said Geo softly.

“You’re damn right!” she replied, thrown off slightly by Nada’s response, but laughed anyways. “You’re starting to sound a lot like me.”

“No, that’s not what I mean..” Geo began, “Look, I know this is going to be hard to believe…”

She explained her observations and the events to the best of her ability, starting with the cadence of someone who had an enormous truth to reveal, and eventually devolving into that of someone who was forced to tell a lie they don’t believe. She knew how inconceivable her words were, but she didn’t know they would be so hilarious.

Geo put her face in her hands, pressing hard until she saw black, then white, then stars.

Everyone was laughing at her, and she could hear the alien signals buzzing all around her, attempting to take control.

zzzz obey zzzzz, no independent thought, consume, work 8 hours, sleep 8 hours zzzzz play 8 hours, conform, stay asleep, obey, consume, submit zzzzzzzzz buy, no thought, buy, doubt humanity, no ideas, consume zzzzzzz submit, no thought zzzzzzzzzzzz obey authority, surrender, cooperate, zzzzzzz no ideas, no thought, submit, stay asleep, stay asleep, obey, buy, do not question authority, no imagination zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Hey, fuck you guys, I was there! Geo is perfectly sane and, more than that, a hero.. And we have proof!” Lil pulled open Nada’s coat to reveal the laboradorescent blood, still shimmering and seething in the artificial light.

“It’s true.”

Everyone turned around, surprised by the unfamiliar voice. Geo shuddered. It was unmistakable.

The Hypnotist stepped out of the shadows, eyes blazing red under thick, scorched black bangs that were sharp enough to cut. The rest of her hair flowed down to her waist in a complex rope-like braid that reminded Geo of a magic beanstalk.

Just like before, Nada temporarily went deaf, reading her glossy lips like a manifesto.

And then:

“Wake up.”

Geo opened her eyes, unaware that they were ever closed. The Hypnotist is explaining everything perfectly and everyone understands. She is passing out the masks, technicolor and splendid in their handmade glory.

Jupiter looked over at Geo and saw something within her that she cannot understand. She isn’t convinced.

“Fuck this.”

Jupiter stormed out, the door hitting the frame like a slap to the face, and tossed a mask into the silver street. Nada ran after her, scooping it up and tucking it under her arm with one swift motion.

“Jupiter, wait-”

She pauses, clenching her fists slightly, before turning around to face her.

“Are you trying to make a mockery of our entire cause?”

“Please-”

“This shit isn’t funny Geo!” Jupiter turned away again, as if to leave.

“You have to believe me, just look.” Nada tried to put the mask on her, and was thrown off, catapulting back with unnecessary force.

“Get that fucking thing away from me!”

Geo paused for a second before following after her, putting her two palms over the part of her chest that Jupiter had pushed. She knew she had to get through to her, and quickly. Speeding up her pace, Nada got close enough to hold Jupiter’s hand and spin her around before she snatched it away, averting her eyes.

“Hey.” She lifted Jupiter’s chin to meet her own, attempting to dampen the urgency that still loitered around the edges of her voice.

“Look, I’m stressed, my court date is this weekend, I can’t handle you and Lil pulling crazy shit like this right now, first of all, you’re putting all of us in danger, and second of all, who even was that hot coven girl you were looking at like she was the second coming…” she paused.

“Geo, to be honest- I've been hearing something on the streets the last couple of weeks. Weird stuff. Some sort of epidemic of violence is what they've been saying. I was talking to someone from Philly. They told me they’ve got some sort of cult up there. End of the world stuff.”

“End of the world?”

“You know, shooting people, robbing banks. Same old thing as always. Whole lot of people going crazy over some nutty dream they had. You want to know the truth? This kind of shit happens the end of every century. It does -- it's just people afraid to face the future. It's all it is.”

“Jupiter, you don’t sound like yourself right now- fuck, they must be getting to you somehow…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look J, you have to trust me.”

Jupiter opened her mouth, ready to breathe fire.

Geo silenced her by pressing a finger, softly but solidly, to her lips, and then replaced it with her own.  “Trust me” she said again, breathing hot and wet and heavy. “Just trust me”. Jupiter pulled her closer for another kiss.

After a few moments, Nada swiftly replaced the space where her face just was with the cardboard mask. “Just look”. She got behind behind Jupiter, one arm around her waist, and the other pointing out to the street.

“Look. Look at them, they're everywhere.”

And she was awake.

Jupiter saw the empty Skel forms in mid-sublimation, she saw others in their peak fleshy fantasy, grotesque and always in flux. How they jiggled when they moved, how they laughed, wobbling and stretching through space and time. She looked up at the absurd holo-screen billboards, on which impossibly shaped creatures played pretend at being people.

[Holovision Skel 1] “Sometimes, when I watch HV, I stop being myself. And I'm a star of a series or a -- or I have my own talk show --or I'm on the news getting out of a limo, going some place important. All I ever have to do is be famous. People watch me and they love me. And I never, never grow old. And I never die.”

[Holovision Skel 2] “The feeling is definitely there. It's a new morning in America -- Fresh, vital. The old cynicism is gone. We have faith in our leaders. We're optimistic as to what becomes of it all. It really boils down to our ability to accept. We don't need pessimism. There are no limits.”

Then she heard the voices, louder and louder and louder and-

zzzzzzzzzzzz obey authority, surrender, cooperate, zzzzzzz no ideas, zzzzzz no thought, submit, stay asleep, stay asleep, obey, buy, do not question authority, no imagination zzzzzzzzzz

Jupiter started to laugh maniacally, the sound echoing recursively up and down the austere metal street.

“It figures it would be something like this.”

She had caught the attention of a Skel dressed as a rich old lady across the street. The creature spoke harshly into her cupped hand.

“Maybe they can see. Myrtle and Broadway”

They heard the soft wrrr of a motor over their heads, and, glancing up, saw a tiny, chrome drone bobbing up and down, constantly refocusing its many lenses on them. It couldn't have been larger than a hummingbird.

“I don't like this one bit.” said Jupiter, blasting the little bot to stardust, which showered down onto their faces like molten glitter.

As they sped up the pace, they noticed more and more Skel faces staring at them and whispering into cupped palms. They seemed to be more around every corner.

The sirens wailed like mourners, closer and brighter and redder with every second. Two cop cars swerved towards each other, narrowly avoiding a crash and cutting off the road.

“Fuck”. There was nowhere to run.

“Where'd you get that mask?” the first one barked. Nada couldn’t focus on anything but the way the creature’s skin rippled like disturbed water. She didn’t respond.

“Nick yourself shaving this morning?” said Jupiter.

“You look as shitty to us as we do to you.”

She flipped her hair. “Impossible.”

“It would be easier if we don't have to splatter your brains.” A little bit of saliva dribbled down this one’s chin as he said this, instantly becoming steam upon contact with the boiling flesh.

Nada looked down at her gun. She knew they had to die.

“Now, you stumbled onto something here. Maybe we can all benefit from this slight misunderstanding”. This cop was becoming an empty Skel, his laffy taffy insides consolidating into a small bundle on the top of his spine.

Geo knocked him to the ground, barreling into his spindly body and crushing it like a pane of glass. She hit the other one in the neck with her lazer gun, it’s guts exploring and exploding all over everything like mentos and coke. She picked up one of the cop guns for herself and tossed the other to Jupiter, who was standing between the two Skel bodies, inspecting them for any signs of life.

“So you bastards die just like we do.”

She heard a scream. Jupiter looked over to find Geo being held by a third cop, about to be handcuffed. She put her gun to his temple and hissed, “Let her go”.

He trembled.

“This one’s human!” Nada warned her.

Jupiter scoffed. “I don’t see anything human about him”.  She spat at his feet.

The cop pisses himself.

“Pathetic. Okay, get your ass out of here before I change my mind”. She followed this with a very effective “shoo”-ing motion, gesturing with the gun.

He turned and started to amble away fearfully. Jupiter watched, contemplatively, cocking her head to the side, and then shot him twice in the back.

He collapses like a poorly made tent.

Jupiter, said, grinning, “No witnesses, right?”

Geo, smiled back at her in awe, wiping a blue-green smear of hot alien blood off of her soft brown cheek.

“That’s my girl”.

She takes her hand.

Jupiter surveyed the damage around them, the pink putty bodies like heaps of still being chewed gum rolling over themselves like ancient tectonic plates, islands of hissing molten flesh.

“Geo, we are so fucked. Call Lil on protonchat and tell them- I don’t know- tell them something. We need a safe house so we can all meet and figure out what the fuck is going on.”

Geo, absentmindedly, “I wonder how many more of us there are.”

-

“Geo! Fuck, are you alright? Listen, Bax is here, they’ve been communicating with some of our comrades from the Sector 4 resistance. They’re sending over all the information they have on these creatures and how to stop them, I’ll protonblast it to you. A couple people from the movement are coming down in a few hours to help us. Bax says they have a plan. But I’m going to be honest, this whole thing is batshit crazy. Lay low and make sure no one is following you, okay? Geo-”

“Yes”

“Who is she?”

(she paused, thinking back to crystalline shards of light bouncing off the tight latex, and the words, “wake up”, formed so perfectly by her plump lips and a salivating tongue )

“I don’t know.”

“Can we trust her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don't wear the mask too long. Starts to feel like a knife turning in your skull.”

“Lil?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you scared?”

-Beep-

Jupiter is massaging her temples forcefully and pacing. “It's like a drug. Wearing this mask makes you high, but, oh, you come down hard.”

Geo took it out of her hand and stroked her cashmere curls, which were the color of amber and tightly wound like a million little slinkies, before planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Take all the guns you can find and let’s get out of here. And be careful with that thing”. She gestured towards the mask.

“The more awake you are the less you’ll need it.”

Jupiter pulled a black bandana over her face from around her neck and another out of her pocket, tying it around Geo’s head, and nuzzled her through the fabric.

A distant siren cries for its mother.

The two took off, hand in hand, each swinging a massive rifle in the other.

CHAPTER 3

Geo and Jupiter hide out in a dark skeezy dive bar where they know the bouncer, ShaSha, a massive butch with pink spiky hair and a penchant for violence.

The bar is empty except for two extremely drunk twinks slow dancing to “Computer Love”, their moves less about flair or musicality and more about holding each other up and trying not to fall.

Jupiter lit two cigarettes in her mouth and silently passed one to Geo.

“Play it again”

Geo tapped her wrist, illuminating a square of space in front of them, and reached out to unpause the video. The smoke undulated around the holo-blast screen, passing right through it, taunting.

 “Our impulses are being redirected. We are living in an artificially induced state of consciousness that resembles sleep. The movement was begun eight months ago by a small group of scientists who discovered quite by accident ... these signals being sent through -- [static] The poor and the underclass are growing. Racial justice and human rights are non-existent. They have created a repressive society ... and we are their unwitting accomplices ... Their intention to rule rests ...with the annihilation of consciousness. We have been lulled into a trance. They have made us indifferent to ourselves, to others. We are focused only on our own gain. We ha --[static] They are safe as long as they are not discovered. That is their primary method of survival. Keep us asleep, keep us selfish, keep us sedated. They are dismantling the sleeping middle class. More and more people are becoming poor. We are their cattle. We are being bred for slavery. The revo -- [static] We cannot break their signal. Our transmitter is not powerful enough. The signal must be shut off at the source. We have --” (it cuts out)

The two sat together for a moment, wordlessly.

One of the Skels was on the bar HV, saying over and over again, “We are your friends. We are your friends. We are your friends.” It sounded scared.

Geo went up to the bar and ordered two beers, gazing up and into the hollow, iridescent skull of the newscaster. It suddenly struck her that the thing on the HV no longer seemed to have any power over her, not even as a force that she must resist. “It has to believe it can master me to do it. The slightest hint of fear on its part and the power to hypnotize is lost.”

Her picture flashed on the screen with the caption: HOMICIDAL MANIAC ON KILLING SPREE: THE CHASE CONTINUES. She laughed, then fell silent.

Nada brought the beers over to the table, cigarette still hanging precariously out of her mouth.

“Maybe they've always been with us. Those things out there. Maybe they love it. Seeing us hate each other. Watching us kill each other off. Feeding on our own cold, fucking hearts.” Nada’s tone was dark and hopeless.

Jupiter was clearly perturbed, torn between her steadfast political ideologies which asserted that capitalism, colonialism and oppression were human tendencies, certainly insidious, but human nonetheless, and the possibility that they could be accounted for simply by an alien species that had infiltrated our society and our consciousness.

“Don’t think like that. Maybe they’re just opportunists, mimicking the structures of control that already existed within our culture. How different is this than any other class battle in human history? They’re just the new 1%” she responded.

“But I killed three aliens today! Plus that human you shot. If we aren’t so different than them, then J, we’re just fucking murderers!”

Jupiter took her hand, feeling the intensity of Geo’s pulse slow to meet her own.

“We killed four cops today.”

“It was us or them.” she swallowed.

“I don’t want to lose you Geo, I can’t. We’ve been asleep for god knows how long, and now that we’re awake, I feel like I see you, I mean, really see you. For who you are. Not for your use value, not for your worth, not for your looks. For you. And I’ll do anything to protect that.”

She snorted. “This whole thing is so much bigger than us, Jupiter.”

“Is it? There must be some reason that you and I are awake when the whole world is asleep, I mean Geo, we’re not normal members of society. We’re fucking anarchists.”

“You might have a point. Speaking of fucking anarchists, it’s almost 21:00. Let’s go see Lil and Bax. We’ve got work to do.”

“Thank fuck you two are here, I was so worried!” Lil ran in and gave them both a big hug, then, slightly embarrassed, took a step back and gave them them the once over.

“Are you hurt?” they asked with a quiver, fear clearly seeping through their hardcore veneer.

“No, we made it fine.” Jupiter replied shortly, distracted by the Sector 4 comrades that seemed to be running the show. It was obvious that not being in charge wasn’t sitting too well with her.

“Good, the city's crawling with cops looking for you. And most of the cops are human. They basically think that we're just commies trying to bring down the government. And some of them are being recruited. Creatures are trading wealth, power…”

Lil is joined by a small, completely hairless person that Geo doesn’t recognise.

“Holy fuck, you mean people are joining up with them?”

“Most of us just sell out right away. Then all of a sudden we get promoted. Our bank accounts get bigger. We start buying new houses, gadgets. Perfect, isn't it? We'll do anything to be rich.” Bax’s voice is dripping with sarcasm like sap from a tree, sweet blood.

“What do these things want from us?”

“It's in our best interests. They're free enterprisers. The Earth is just another developing planet. Their third world.”

“And you are?” Jupiter asked accusingly.

“Trance. I’m from Chicago. My entire community was brutally wiped out two months ago by these creatures for refusing to submit to them. Only I survived, and I’ve been researching them ever since.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that” said Geo softly, before asking, “Do you know why they are here?”

“We are like a natural resource to them ... deplete the planet, move on to another. They want benign indifference. They want us drugged. We could be pets. We could be food. But all we really are is livestock. Look around the environment we live in. Carbon dioxide, fluorocarbons, and methane have been increasing since 1958. Earth is being acclimatized. They are turning our atmosphere into their atmosphere.”

“We need an assault unit. Someone to hit them hard when the time comes.” said Lil.

Bax cleared their throat loudly and began to speak, pulling a black beanie over their buzzed head.

“All right, now everybody listen up. We can’t be getting sloppy. Now, their detection is becoming more effective. So we have to be more careful.”

Trace continued, “Stay aware of keeping up appearances. Do what's expected of you. We've gotten reckless. And the movement's suffering for it.” They looked right at Jupiter and Geo, who rolled their eyes.

“Time to stop talking about it, trying to figure out how it happened. Now we need to start spilling some blood!” Jupiter’s abject call to arms was met by various shouts of agreement by the rest of the crew.

Bax shot back, “We don't stand a chance with a few guns and grenades.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” asked Geo earnestly.

“We bide our time.” said Trance.

“There is a signal broadcast every second of every day, through our holovision sets. Even when the set is turned off, the brain still receives the input. We need to seek out and locate their signal, and shut it off. Wake people up!”

“Trance’s friend works at NBC. He claims that the signal may be coming from one place-”

A voice swept from the through the room like a cool gust of wind, clear as water, each syllable uttered with the attention to detail of a marble sculptor, chipping away at each sound with just the right amount of force. Geo would recognize it anywhere.

“NeuroBlast Channel is clear. The transmission is going out clean. The signal is coming from somewhere else.”

Nada turned around to find the glassy eyes of the Hypnotist locked in her own, the space in between like a tightrope or a balance beam leading her ever so precariously.

Bax replied, “All right, this is the point. It's important to find out exactly where this signal is coming from. And the only way we can do --”

“I gotta go talk to someone.” Geo whispered in Jupiter’s ear, before bee-lining to the back of the room.

“Who are you?” Nada tried to sound strong and accusatory like Jupiter.

“You know who I am.” She said, smiling.

Nada furrowed her brow, confused by her answer and even more perplexed by her smile, which seemed at once an attempt to transmit ancient secrets of the universe and also completely empty, lacking of any real empathy or emotion.

“Who are you! Why did you wake me up?” she repeated, more insistent this time.

“My dear,” she said with that same saccharine grin peeling off her face like the skin of an orange, “I couldn’t do that. You did it to yourself.”

“But--”

“Hush little baby. You will understand soon. For now, take cover.”

“Wha-”

CRASH!

The library is up in flames, sparks flying everywhere. Everyone is screaming.

Then the gas. A helicopter searchlight beams down, white hot and blinding.

Then the sirens, like a nursery full of of still bloody, orphaned newborns in plexiglass cases.

Then the SWAT team, yelling in brutish, foreign sounds that are mangled by the high pitched zinging of their AR-25s.

Everyone is shooting. Everyone is getting shot.

The screams are getting less and less.

Geo realizes she isn’t screaming either.

Geo realizes everything is lava and the Hypnotist is gone.

Geo realizes she isn’t paralyzed anymore. She presses play on time.

She picked up a gun from the nearest dead body and ran backwards, firing at every uniform she saw. She stashed two more in the waistband of her skirt and one in her bra.

Something caught the red light of the sirens. It was Jupiter, her lion’s mane magically illuminated like the burning bush. She was passed out against the wall, clearly in shock from the blast.

Nada dragged her out the back door and into the alleyway, summoning every ounce of her strength. She remembered what Jupiter has said to her earlier, and regretted how flippant she had been about it.

“I don’t want to lose you” she said out loud. “I can’t”.

Now she wanted to scream.

She didn’t realize she was until two cops came around the corner, running. She shot them mid stride without even looking, and knew from the characteristic sound of their flesh sizzling and then falling with an enormous cascading squish, and the damp heat that came off their freshly-dead bodies, that they were Skels. She was relieved.

The screaming and the shooting had woken up Jupiter, who started to groan.

“Fuck J, are you okay, are you shot?”

“I think I’m okay. That explosion scrambled me though. Where’s everyone else?”

“I didn’t see anyone alive. They must have either ran away or gotten arrested.”

Jupiter tried to stand up, still unstable. “We have to go save them!”

Geo started to cry. “Jupiter. You know we can’t go back in there. It’s crawling with cops looking for survivors to question. We just have to hope that they’re okay.”

“And if they’re not?” She was angry, but she was crying too.

“Then you and I are the only ones that know the truth.” Geo looked up at her friend. She wasn’t crying anymore.

Another set of cops raced around the corner, and then another, disturbing the thick, silent grief that had temporarily frozen them in the moment. Jupiter grabbed the gun in Geo’s bra and started shooting. Without looking back, she gestured for Nada to throw her a second one.

The two advanced, both with a gun in each hand. The cops hardly had a moment to unholster their weapons before they were turned into a shapeless, slimy mess, thrown to the floor like liquid in a thin plastic bag.

Two more more appeared and were shot at, one human, one Skel. The human one somehow managed to limp away with one leg shred up like an incriminating document.  

The other one had been hit too, and, looking around at the many steaming, leaking bodies that surrounded it, the Skel started to whisper more and more frantically into its cupped hand.

Geo and Jupiter squinted, suddenly blinded by a purple-blue light that seemed to come from below them.

Their eyes adjusted slightly to reveal a glowing, pulsating hole opening up in the middle of the alleyway. It spoke:

“Portal closing in five...”

“What the fuck is that?” Geo yelled over the noise, which was at once like a vacuum and like someone blowing bubbles in water through a straw.

“Four”.

“I don’t know… some kind of alien secret hideout maybe...”

“Three.”

The cop trustfell backwards into the hole.

“Two”

“Well baby, we’re about to find out!” said Geo, before pulling Jupiter towards her and wrapping her arms around her waist. She threw her weight backwards, taking Jupiter tumbling down with her.

The portal closed behind them with a loud, wet suction noise, like lips smacking after a delicious meal.

CHAPTER 4

A robotic voice echoed in the long dark tunnel, which was quickly self illuminating from the furthest visible point, light rushing towards them in a tidal wave crescendo.

“If you need assistance in finding your destination, bilingual instructions are posted at the end of each corridor.”

The two scrutinized the marks on the wall, which were squirming like mealworms in a small container.

“What kind of language is that?” said Jupiter, marveling at the way the printed text seemed animate, able to reconstitute itself much like the species that it derived from.

Geo tapped all around walls and, standing on her tippy toes, the ceiling.

“I think we're under the city. Maybe some kind of underground base or something.”

She kept looking for clues.

“Stay perfectly still.” said Jupiter suddenly, standing straight up.

She mouthed the words “do you hear that?” and pointed down the tunnel, opposite the way they had came. Geo did hear it, although it was very faint, like the beating of butterfly wings or a lizard’s heartbeat.

They crept towards the sound, guns drawn.

The sound clarified itself slowly, first becoming applause, and then becoming louder, and then louder, reaching a deafening roar by the time they reached its source.

It was a grand ballroom, sparkling with mindless luxury, vomiting platinum and glass and pristine modernist details that seemed almost sacred, too rich to be touched. On the tables were piled all manner of rare delicacies, caviar, chocolates, fine wines in crystal glasses. Many other things that Jupiter and Geo had never seen, but could recognize as something rare and precious.

Human and Skel alike had embraced their gluttony, unabashedly stuffing their faces and tossing their drinks down their throats, often staining their minimalist haute couture getups. They didn’t care. They thought they were among friends.

A pink skel sloshed across the stage, tapping the mike to gain everyone’s attention. They fell silent.

“Our projections show that by the year 2035, not only America, but the entire planet, will be under the protection and the dominion of this power alliance. The gains have been substantial, both for ourselves and for you, the human power elite. You have given us entrée to the resources we need in our ongoing quest for multidimensional expansion. And in return, the per capita income of each of you here tonight ... has grown, in this year alone, by an average 39%. And I've just received word that our forces have won a major victory. The underground terrorist network has been destroyed here on the East Coast. We are off crisis alert. The situation is normal again. Have a wonderful rest of your night and remember, money isn't the nicest thing in life, it's the only thing!”

The audience of humans, so comfortable in the presence of the creatures on the stage, unable to see the bubbling, pink folds of flesh that bulged and swirled under their eveningwear, applauded and clinked their glasses.

Geo looked at the crowd, decked out in glittering excess, as they celebrated their demise. Then she recognized them.

“Holy shit Jupiter.”

She felt the walls closing in on her.

“Is that Lil and Bax? I can’t believe they’re alive! They look fucked! I’ve never seen either of them in anything that formal...or with that much makeup on...or with their hair brushed….”

“Or without their souls.”

“Stay cool, I think they saw us.”

Lil waved like a docile, contributing member of society and got up, making their way towards them.

“Jupiter! Geo! Oh, how lovely! I didn't know you'd been recruited.” they said with a glossy, plastered-on smile.

“Welcome aboard! You know, you girls really should have dressed for the party ... now you can afford it.” they said the last part with a knowing twinkle in their eye that almost made Geo puke, it was so unlike them.

“Isn’t the place just splendid!” they continued. “Have you gotten the grand tour yet?”

Geo wanted to say something cruel, but she knew she had to play along.

“Come with me!” they gasped, taking both Jupiter and Geo by the hand, and dragging them out of ballroom and into a tunnel that was very similar, but not quite the same as the one they had just used to enter.

Lil pulled them around a corner that seemed to appear just at the moment that they started to turn.

They were in a room of nothingness. A cold, steel platform stretched out into the dark, the open night sky unraveling before them like a lover, naked and glorious.

The three stood, gazing out at the vastness in horror and awe. Geo had stared up at the stars and felt so small and insignificant so many times, that her life was meaningless, that she was just a little speck on the planet earth, as ineffectual as a grain of sand or a dust mite. But here she was, at the center of a cosmic battle for liberation. She felt the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Attention commuters, flight Alpha 7 to Andromeda is now ready for boarding. Please step in to the transmission platform. A robotic voice interrupted her thoughts.

“That's where they come from.” whispered Lil excitedly, pointing out into the endless black pit.

“I don't know how it works exactly, but it has to do with some sort of gravitational lens deal -- bending the light, or some damn thing. But you can move from place to place, world to world if you want to. You see, the whole thing works like one big airport. Ladies, let me tell you, they got their act together. Believe you me.”

Jupiter looked over at Geo and made a face that said “I can’t do this anymore.” She knew she was about to lose it.

“What’s next… oh! I’ll take you to the HV studio! That’ll be fun!”

Geo replied, “I’d love to!” and shot back a look to Jupiter that meant, “Just a little bit longer.”

“Let me show you something else-“ they said. “We’re supposed to save this for emergencies… but it’s just so damn fun!”

They whispered something into their hand and the floor opened up at their feet, pulsing with cool, inviting neon light. Lil took their hands again, and jumped.

“And here we got the brains of the whole operation. NBC! That's where the signal goes out from here to the satellite. We bump it out all over the world. Pretty fancy, huh? Not too familiar with it myself. Well, ladies, that’s as far as we go.” They said, lighting a cigarette nonchalantly.

Jupiter and Geo looked through the glass to see a set of alien newscasters, awkwardly stuffed into human business casual attire. They really were quite ridiculous creatures in their fleshy form, hypermorphic rave slugs that stretched and sucked at themselves with every motion that they made.

“They led us right into the belly of the beast. ” said Jupiter under her breath.

Geo turned back to Lil, her face forming back into a forced smile.

“Can you get us inside?” she seeing how far she could push it. “I've never seen the inside of a HV studio before.”

“Well, I guess it wouldn't be that much problem. You see the guards over there? Friends of mine. Hey, fellas, I got a couple of my friends here. Thought I'd give them the grand tour. Think we can go inside?”

Jupiter’s jaw dropped. Geo knew what she was thinking. Seeing Lil this friendly with cops was like seeing a pig excited for slaughter, laying down in position with a happy little squeal.

The guard replied “Be serious. You have your authorization cards?”

Lil looked down for a moment to take their card out of their pocket. Jupiter locked eyes with Geo. “Now!” She yelled.

Before Lil’s hand was even out of their pocket, the guards were dead, their ultraviolet innards slithering on the floor.

Inside the HV studio, cameras were rolling, completely ignorant to the bloodshed.

Lil was screaming, and Geo clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her.

Jupiter knocked on the glass.

“Soundproof. Where's that signal?”

Geo uncovered their mouth. They stopped yelling, embarrassed.

“It's up on the... roof, I think.” Stuttered Lil nervously, eyeing the loaded guns and the bodies at their feet.

“Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait, you're making a big mistake!” cried Lil in desperation.

“You made the mistake.” Jupiter hissed.  

“No, no, you got to listen to me. I thought you two understood. It's business, that's all it is. You still don't get it, do you? There ain't no countries anymore. No more good guys. They're running the whole show. They own everything -- the whole goddamn planet. They can do whatever they want. What's wrong with having it good, for a change? And they're going to let us have it good, if we just help 'em. They're going to leave us alone. Let us make some money. You can have a little taste of that good life too. Now, I know you want it -- hell, everybody does.”

“You turned your back on your own kind.” Said Geo to herself, still shocked by Lil’s new capitalistic tendencies and happy-go-lucky demeanor.

“What's the threat? We all sell out every day. Might as well be on the winning team.”

Jupiter, only half joking, said, “Lil, you sound crazy. I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t stop talking about all this self righteous bullshit, you fucking zombie.”

Lil shrugged, their glassy expression still pleasant even while under threat. They really were so far gone.

Jupiter couldn’t wait any longer. She barreled through the glass door with ungodly force, shattering the fourth wall that, until just moments before, had kept the HV broadcasters in the dark.

Geo soon followed. She felt like the hero in an action movie.

“I have come here to chew bubblegum ... and kick ass.” she said, reloading her guns.

“And I'm all out of bubble gum.”

She set the room ablaze, sending streams of razor sharp lasers through their soft, kneaded eraser-like flesh.  

“Cut to a commercial!” someone yelled.

“I’m going to head to the roof, try to find the signal.” said Geo.

[HV Commercial] Oman's collection puts passion before fashion.

The very un-elegant form of a fully expanded Skel in the advertisement looked ridiculous, lounging on and around and underneath a grand piano, a martini wedged between two of its many fluctuating folds.

The alarm starts to scream, a piercing noise that was neither man made or mechanical and resembled the sound of two stones grinding against each other at high speed.

Security alert. Intruders are here -- head for the roof. Repeat. Intruders --

“Come on, come on! Jupiter, watch the door.”

Nada dashed up the stairs, the bone crushing sound of the alarm system echoing through her entire body. She felt a shiver go down her spine.

[HV] Dash and trash are back. Out goes glitter, and in comes divine excess.

The hatch door swung open like a drunken punch to the jaw, the air around it whipped by the blades of the helicopters bobbing high above.

On the edge of the roof, the silhouette of a person stood, arms raised high above her head. She was humming some sort of incantation, softly but audibly nonetheless.

Geo knew who she was.

The Hypnotist turned around, smiling that same smile so void and yet somehow so meaningful.

“Just say it already!” Geo shouted. She had grown tired of her manipulations. “Just say it into the satellite! That’s what you’re here for, right?”

“No Geo. I’m here to stop you.” She pursed her perfect lips.

Nada scowled, not understanding. “But you were the one who woke me up!”

“Not everyone can stay asleep. It’s an ecosystem, Geo. One must have balance in order to have peace. One must have a conflict in order to have a plot.”

“You call this peace?” she shouted, pointing at the countless police helicopters and sirens that drew ever nearer.

The cops yelled from the sky. “Drop your weapon! Stand away from the dish, or we will open fire.”

“Come inside with me.” The Hypnotist beaconed. “If you end this now I can keep you safe. They will not hurt you.”

“You have ten seconds. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.” A voice barked from a speaker.

[HV] The fall collection revels in freedom of expression. Gay abandon rushes to meet ... the roaring-

“Fuck it.” Geo shot the Hypnotist down in one quick motion.

Her brains splattered against the cold aluminum of the satellite. Then she shot the disk, exploding it into little bitty particles of metal ash, melting under the flames like like the Wicked Witch to water.  

Laserfire criss-crossed through Geo’s vision, narrowly missing her each time. The ground below her feet began to tremble, erupting into smoke and lava.

A police searchlight beamed down on her. She felt like a movie star. She looked up into the light, completely ignoring the building that was exploding all around her.

“No justice, no peace!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs, and flipped off the cameras, before being enveloped completely in thick, dark fog, disappearing from view.

THE END