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The ending to Obsession reminds me of the ending to Don't Worry Darling. Both have the female lead technically freed from the control of the male partner but neither of them are happy endings.
Obsession is clearer in this, all of Nikki's friends are dead, two by her own hand, she's spent however long stuck in her head witnessing one of her best friends use her body which has also been broken down physically. She's traumatized, injured and I think also suffering from malnutrition (based on her throwing up near the end when confronting Bear). There is no good path for Nikki
Don't Worry Darling is a bit more speculative. Alice wakes up from the Victory Simulation but we're shown that when Jack put her in the simulation she was strapped to the bed, she had an IV, she had those eye things on so she couldn't blink. He was responsible for keeping her hydrated (he's shown with a damp cloth dripping water in her mouth). And when she wakes up, she's still stuck in the bed. Next to a dead Jack. Maybe she'd survive, maybe she'd get free like the wife in Gerald's Game (but we don't know how long she's been there already, how much muscle strength she would have lost), maybe the smell of Jack's body would get someone to find her but how quickly? Before she dies of thirst? And if she does get freed, who knows what her mental state will be after being locked in. It's going to be a struggle to separate reality and fiction from one another. She presumably doesn't have a job anymore, her financial situation is probably screwed since Jack had to pay for the Victory simulation.
Both Nikki and Alice are still trapped. Maybe not in their previous cages, but removing those bars don't matter as much if the cage was in a locked room and the room is still locked.
One thing I love about slice of life teen wolf fics is when they have the relatively normal (for teenage werewolves) pack members and then Peter who is usually somewhere between a Victorian literary villain and a gothic bachelor.
CW: Violence, language and dialogue from the show that might be offensive
We're at the end of season one! The second part of this chapter takes place during the two week window between season 1 main events and the season 1 cliffhanger, as will the next chapter. Chapter twenty two should be the start of the season 2 plot
When Peter’s car pulled up at the Stackhouse residence, Stiles threw himself out of the vehicle before it had come to a full stop. The front door was wide open and the smell of blood was thick in the air. Peter moved to Stiles’ side, trying to step in front of him protectively but the boy sidestepped the wolf and ran into the house.
The first person he saw was Adele. She was lying at the base of the stairs, limbs splayed at unnatural angles. Bruises were already forming on her arms and throat. There was a rust coloured stain on the wall and Stiles could see blood matting her hair. He raced to her side, crouching and checking her pulse. It was weak but there. Up close, he could see more stains on her clothes and numerous cuts. She had fought. Hopefully that would have been enough for Sookie to get away.
Peter followed the sound of a heartbeat into the kitchen. He saw the bloody corpse of Amy and the slumped body of Jason, who had been struck over the head with something. The young man was halfway between conscious and unconscious. His eyes were open but the struggle to maintain them was visible on his face. Peter returned to the hall, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing 911. He quickly relayed the location and the situation, eyes scanning the room for threats.
Jason staggered out of the kitchen, eyes widening as he saw Adele.
“Gran…?” he croaked. Stiles turned to him.
“Jason, I need you to stay here with your gran. Sookie’s out there somewhere with Rene. Peter and I will find her.”
Jason looked uncertain, like he wanted to argue but Peter pressed his phone into the man’s hand.
“Take this, stay on the call with the dispatcher. If anything changes with your grandmother, let them know and they’ll tell you what to do.”
Maybe it was the firm tone, or the unwavering look on Peter’s face, or perhaps it was just that Peter radiated more authority than Stiles did, but whatever it was Jason nodded and knelt beside his gran. Peter gestured for Stiles to follow him outside.
“Can you hear them?” Stiles asked, once they were out of earshot from Jason. Peter cocked his head.
“Two people, that way.” He pointed towards the cemetery. Stiles nodded and they set off.
“You fuckin’ hear me, you filthy fuckin’ cunt? I'm gonna tear out your goddamn throat with my hands and fuck your dead face!” The sound of Rene’s furious voice added speed to Stiles’ legs, terrified he wouldn’t make it in time. Peter was running ahead, drawing closer to the first of the graves.
It was a smart move by Sookie, Stiles thought to himself. She’d clearly been trying to make it to Bill’s house. He didn’t know if the vampire had returned from his tribunal yet, but if he had then he’d be the best person to protect Sookie. And if he hadn’t, Sookie knew where Bill went to ground which would make a good hiding spot.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t made it that far.
Footprints in soft dirt led a short way through the graves before they were obliterated into a mess of scuff marks around a small outbuilding.
Groundskeeper’s cottage? Stiles' mind supplied.
The door was hanging off its hinges, like it had been kicked open. Rene was shouting from inside. Bill was circling the building, a look of frustration on his face. Stiles ignored him, charging into the building with Peter at his side.
“Mind-reading, vampire-fuckin’ freak bitch! You think you're so smart? You smart now?”
Sookie was on the ground amongst broken dusty furniture, Rene on top of her. Peter let out a snarl, face slipping into his beta shift. The noise was enough to draw Rene's focus, half turning. He yelled at the sight, confusion at what he was seeing being overridden by an instinctive fear, hardwired to recognise a predator.
“What the fuck are you? What the fuck?”
Stiles grabbed a splintered table leg and struck out wildly at Rene. He didn't care if he didn't hit him, he just wanted to force him back away from Sookie. It had the desired effect, Rene jerking backwards and onto his feet. He ducked another swing from the leg and lunged for Stiles. Peter intercepted, tossing the man across the room and squaring up in front of him. Rene tried to get back up but as he rose a strange expression crossed his face. He took a half step forward and his legs crumpled, sending him crashing to the floor.
Stiles looked from the man to Sookie, who was sitting up. A pen was in her hand, one he recognised.
“He's paralysed,” Stiles said quietly. Peter, letting his face fall back to normal, gave him a slight smile.
“Kanima venom?” He asked. Stiles nodded, moving to kneel beside Sookie. He carefully capped the pen to prevent the venom from leaking onto someone else.
“Sookie, are you okay? Did he cut you or stab you?”
“No,” she croaked, hoarse from where Rene had strangled her.
“Alright. We called an ambulance, they'll check you out. Peter, are you okay to watch him until the cops get here?” he asked, helping her up.
“Are you sure we want to give him to the police? They did already let him go… and I'm sure there are a lot of wild animals around here.”
“The police are almost to the house,” Bill called from outside.
“Bill?” Sookie pulled away and limped to the door.
“Sookie,” Bill wrapped his arms around her the moment she was across the threshold. Peter raised an eyebrow and muttered ‘Sookeh’ under his breath in a very good impression of Bill's accent. Stiles bit his lip, pushing down a laugh.
“Hopefully the ambulance will be with them,” Stiles said, stepping outside. “Sookie, your gran… she was pretty badly hurt. Jason's with her, but… you should probably go wait with her”
Sookie nodded, face pale beneath the blossoming bruises. She left Bill's side and headed for the house. The vampire lingered, turning to look at Stiles and Peter, who had come to the doorway.
“You seem to have a habit of showing up around Sookie,” Bill said, eyes on Stiles.
“It's called friendship. You should try it sometime, might help you with that wooden stake you've got up your butt”
“I'm not so sure someone who fraternizes with Eric Northman is someone I want popping up in Sookie's life.”
“Well that's really up to her isn't it? And I can assure you, my extra curriculars have no bearing on my relationship with Sookie. I have her best interests at heart… can you say the same?”
Bill’s lip curled into something reminiscent of a snarl but Peter cleared his throat before the vampire could do anything more.
“Mr Compton, I suggest you take a step back. You're not the only one with fangs.”
“I thought it smelt like wet dog around here,” Bill said with a scowl. “I'm far older than you, you should show some respect”
“My respect is reserved for those who earn it. Not for southern fried vampires who haven't updated their wardrobe in the last fifty years.” Peter looked up at the sky. “You should run along. Dawn's coming and I'd hate to see you get a sunburn.”
Bill’s scowl grew but he stalked off after Sookie. Stiles waited until he was a decent distance away before looking at Peter.
“When's dawn?”
“In a few hours. I just wanted to get rid of him.”
“Understandable. He has the personality of wet cardboard.”
Stiles glanced back into the little house. “How are we going to explain him suddenly being paralysed?”
“I get the feeling they won't want to look too closely, given that the only reason he was able to kill another woman was because they released him. Besides, the paralysis should wear off by the time they get him to the station and Kanima venom won't come up on any standard test they try.”
Sheriff Dearborne approached, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
“Stiles, Mr Hale. Is Mr Lenier inside?”
“Yes. You might need someone else to help you get him to your car,” Stiles told him.
“Is he actually going to stay in jail this time?” Peter asked, eyebrow raised.
“Yes. We have multiple statements and Arlene brought in some items she found that belonged to Rene. They support the information Sookie provided, which was verified by a fax from another precinct… the fax was overlooked by Office Bellefleur. We have now suspended him for his conduct.”
Sheriff Dearborne took their statement, although Stiles was barely paying attention. His focus was on the ambulance parked by the Stackhouse home, quietly hoping that Adele was going to be okay, that the paramedics had made it there in time.
Once the sheriff had finished asking his questions, Stiles couldn't wait any longer.
“Are Adele and Jason okay?”
“The paramedics say Jason has a mild concussion. Mrs Stackhouse… we're not sure.”
“Can we go…?” Stiles gestured towards the ambulance. The Sheriff nodded. Stiles glanced at Peter who nodded once, silently communicating that he’d stay near Rene until he was safely secured.
Stiles jogged to the house. The paramedics had finished loading Adele into the ambulance.
“One of you can ride with us, the other will need to make their own way,” a woman was saying to Sookie. The two siblings looked at one another, clearly conflicted.
“Jason, you’re concussed. You can’t drive,” Sookie said.
“Neither of you are in a fit state to drive,” Stiles interjected. “And honestly, as much as you want to be with your gran, it’s probably better if I give you both a ride to the hospital instead.”
Jason looked like he wanted to argue and Sookie seemed reluctant, but they both conceded when the paramedic made an impatient noise.
Stiles led the siblings to Peter’s car. A moment later, the wolf joined them as though summoned by the prospect of someone else driving his vehicle.
They loaded up and followed after the ambulance. The car was near silent, punctuated by Sookie’s soft whimpers and the occasional quiet groan from Jason.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Stiles said after a while. “But i’ve been in your position. You’re in pain, adrenaline is spiked, being in a high pressure environment like an ambulance with someone you love just… you end up catastrophising and that makes it harder on the medics.”
Neither of them replied and eventually he stopped waiting for them to.
The days that followed were exhausting. With Amy dead, Sookie at the hospital with her gran and Arlene struggling to reconcile the man she'd loved with the man he actually was, Stiles found himself covering a lot of extra work at the bar. Both Sookie and Arlene did come in occasionally but it was clear their head was elsewhere. It didn't help that the gossips kept bringing up Rene, usually triggering tears from the redhead. He had also been helping in other ways, making sure there was food available for Sookie and Jason, cleaning up the blood once the police had finished with it, and providing lifts to the hospital.
He finally had a night off and as much as he wanted to spend it cuddled up in bed, enjoying one of the last days before Peter headed back to Vegas on his alpha hunt, he had something he needed to do. He’d been trying to put it off as long as possible, but after a rather pointed message from Eric he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.
Stiles got home and let himself in. He’d texted Peter earlier to let him know about the evening plans and the wolf was sat on the couch waiting for him, possessing a casual yet posed quality.
“Give me five minutes to get changed,” Stiles told him.
“Take your time. You smell like grease and stress.”
“Rude. But I can’t take too long, Lafayette is going to meet us there.”
“Go shower, I’ll lay some clothes out for you.”
Stiles narrowed his eyes.
“You went shopping didn't you?”
“Yes. I did. Now, shower.”
He dutifully headed to the shower, taking his time to rinse off the smell of the bar. Once he was finished, he went to the clothes Peter had left for him. He didn’t realise anything was wrong with them until he had, after a bit of a struggle, got the trousers on.
“Peter, these pants are too small!”
The wolf poked his head in, running his eyes over Stiles.
“No they’re not, they’re perfectly sized.”
“I can’t breathe!”
“You can talk, so you can breathe.”
“Yeah but I don’t think I’ll be able to have children after wearing these.”
“You’ll be fine. Now, put your shirt on.”
“I'm not sure you can legally call this a shirt…” Stiles muttered. “It's transparent!”
“No it's not.” Peter folded his arms and stared until Stiles pulled it on. He then reached over and undid the first few buttons, adjusting the fabric to reveal more of his neck and collarbone. “Now, look”
Stiles looked in the mirror. Tight black trousers and a sheer black shirt with short sleeves and a few deep red flowers embroidered on it. He had to admit, it looked good against the pale skin on show. There was a lot of it.
“Are you trying to get me eaten? Going to a vampire bar looking like this, I might as well be sprawled on a serving platter.”
“Well, I have to make sure your vampire is up to protecting you.”
“And this is how you're going to test that?”
Peter gave him one of those smiles with just a bit too many teeth involved, the kind that would make people who didn't know him (and some of the ones who did) take a step back.
“Alright, come on then. Let's get this over with.”
By the time they got to Fangtasia, Lafayette was already there. He was sitting in his car looking anxious, but reluctantly got out when Peter and Stiles approached. Despite his nerves, he gave them both an appreciative look.
“Ohh Stiles, you out here lookin’ all pornilicious, and you walkin’ up with this sex on a stick white boy? Must be my lucky night”
“Lafayette, this is Peter.”
“Where can I get one?” Lafayette asked, giving Peter another look.
“One and only sweetheart,” Peter said with a wink. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He guided the pair towards the club. As they neared the door, Stiles stepped to the front of their trio. Pam was at the door and she waved them past the line much to the annoyance of the patrons waiting outside.
“Stiles, always a pleasure. Did you finally develop a sense of taste?”
“This is all Peter’s handiwork I’m afraid.”
Pam’s eyes flicked to Peter, narrowing slightly as she looked him over. Eventually she nodded and switched her focus to Lafayette.
“Hmm,” was all she said, before gesturing for them to enter.
The three of them went into the club. Eric was on the stage, reclining on his throne looking bored as usual. Stiles inclined his head slightly and then led Lafayette to a booth in the corner while Peter went to get them drinks. It was easy to tell who was a vampire by how they reacted to the wolf’s presence, but none of them did anything more than give him a look of disgust. Lafayette was looking nervous, his usually cool demeanour fracturing at the edges the longer he sat there.
“It’ll be okay,” Stiles told him quietly. “If you hadn’t come in on your own, they would have gone after you and that would have been much worse.”
A young redheaded woman approached, leaning against the table.
“Hey cutie,” she said to Stiles. “Dance with me?”
“I’m comfy here,” he told her. She scowled, opening her mouth to speak.
“He’s spoken for Jessica,” Eric said, sliding into the booth beside Stiles. He slung his arm across the back of the seat, fingers brushing the boy’s shoulder. The redhead, Jessica, looked at Lafayette.
“What about you?”
“You’s barking up the wrong tree there.”
Jessica pouted.
“No one lets me have any fun.”
“Jessica, go wait in my office,” Eric told her firmly. She stomped her foot and stalked off.
“Friend of yours?” Stiles asked, watching her go.
“Bill’s progeny.”
“And why isn’t she with Bill?”
“I’m wondering that more each day…” Eric turned his gaze to Lafayette. “Stiles was right. If you hadn’t come to us, we would have come for you.” He flashed a sharp smile.
There was the sound of someone clearing their throat. Eric looked up to see Peter standing there.
“Mr Northman, you’re in my seat.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t let animals on the furniture.”
“Dog jokes? How original.”
Lafayette raised an eyebrow at Stiles who pulled a ‘don’t ask’ face in response.
“Listen,” Lafayette said. “I just wanna get this over with and go. Whatever yous got goin’ on, i don’t want no part of.”
“Fine. Stiles, Lafayette, please follow me. Mr Hale, i’ll fetch you when we’re done. Try not to chew the seat cushions.”
Peter rolled his eyes, waited for the three of them to get up before making himself comfortable. Stiles gently brushed his hand against the wolf’s arm before following Eric to the office.
Jessica was inside, looking bored and irritated. She perked up a little at the sight of them and rose to intercept Stiles.
“You smell… strange.” Her fangs dropped, her eyes hungry. Stiles didn’t react.
“If you bite me,” he told her, “I will bite you back. Harder.”
She laughed.
“As if.”
Lafayette and Eric were sat at the desk and Stiles peered round the girl to catch Eric’s eye.
“Eric?” he said softly, asking for permission.
“Jessica, behave yourself. Go get me a drink from the bar.”
“URGH! You’re such a dick, just like Bill!”
She stormed off, Pam entering as she left and headed to stand behind Eric. Stiles rolled his eyes and sat on the sofa. Eric eyed Lafayette contemplatively. The cook shifted uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gaze. The silence was getting to him, and he eventually broke.
“I don't know what it is you wanna know, but point me in the direction, and I give to you.”
“I've seen your website. It's quite, low rent. But your clients… they’re loyal. Enough to miss you if you disappeared, enough to wonder if you’d be coming back,” Eric said.
“Look, I'm here because of the V, right? How'bout I give you the names of everybody I ever sold to?”
“And all this time I thought prostitutes were good at keeping secrets,” Pam said, smirking.
“Don't get it twisted, honeycomb, I'm a survivor first, a capitalist second, and a whole bunch of other sh*t after that. But a hooker, dead last. So if I got even a Jew at an al Qaeda pep rally shot at getting my black ass up out this motherfucker, I'm taking it. Now, what you wanna know?
“The vampire you had your little arrangement with. Eddie Gauthier. What do you know about what happened to him?”
“Only what i’ve been told. Last time I saw him he was doing real good. Then I went to his house, the door was open and he was gone.”
“You know who took him?”
“I mean I ain't sure exactly, I know who was involved, don’t know which one of them did it.”
“That's not very forthcoming of you”
“Jason Stackhouse. And his girlfriend, Amy. She was a… real kooky type. But smart, smarter than Jason.”
“And when you found out what happened?”
“I told Stiles. He tried to warn me, i didn’t listen. I though he could help. He asked me if I wanted him to get Eddie out of where he was, asked if i knew the risks.”
“You did?”
“Yeah…”
“This one action is the sole reason you are alive Lafayette. Eddie vouched for your character, although the admission of one law breaking love sick fledgling was not exactly compelling evidence. Stiles however… his opinion of you I hold slightly higher.” Eric’s eyes narrowed. “Not enough to excuse your actions though.”
Stiles straightened in his seat, tensed in case Eric made a move to hurt Lafayette. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d do, given that he was on Eric’s territory in a building full of vampires, but he’d convinced Lafayette to come there and any blood that spilled would be his fault.
“I want a list of every client, every contact, everyone you know that is connected to the purchase or selling of V,” Eric said firmly. “In addition, you stop selling and you will answer some questions I have. I understand dealers of vampire blood sometimes trade product with one another across state lines. Any buyers in the Dallas area?”
“One. He never gave me his name though. I have an e-mail address. [email protected]”
“A friend of mine in the Dallas area, his name is Godric, has gone missing. Now, while the circumstances of his disappearance are unclear, it stands to reason his blood would be very valuable, as he's over twice my age and ten times the vampire I will ever be.”
Stiles frowned, picking up the emotion seeping out of the vampire. Love, fear, sorrow. He’d rarely felt anything but complete control from Eric.
“Eric, you don't do humble well,” Pam said.
“I was not being humble. This happens to be true.” Eric said, sharply. “Your associate, this "pussylover". Has he or she mentioned any new product coming on the market?”
“No, no. And I would tell you. You know that.”
“Stiles? Is he telling the truth?” The two vampires pinned him under their unflinching gaze. Stiles looked at Lafayette. Fear, but no deception.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Eric slid a notebook across the desk. “Names. Emails. Numbers. Every detail you have.”
Lafayette got out his phone and started to copy down information. Eric and Pam didn’t stop staring at him as he did so and Stiles could see the writing getting messier in his hurry to get away from them.
“There.”
“Thank you Lafayette. We’ll be keeping an eye on you.” Eric tucked the pad away and got up. “Stiles, i’ll be back in a moment with your… friend. Wait here.”
Pam, Eric and Lafayette left, leaving Stiles alone in the room. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, trying to push down the exhaustion.
The office door creaked and clicked shut. Quiet footsteps moved towards the couch and the smell of floral perfume reached his nostrils. Stiles’ eyes shot open just as sharp fangs grazed his skin.
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It's been too hot to do anything more than starfish on the bed under a fan and groan incoherently but I'm finally getting some writing done! And I get to do a verbal pissing contest between Eric and Peter. Shall I see how many dog jokes can I fit in to one conversation? Or is Eric too dignified for more than one?
Eric *toying with Stiles' shirt collar*
Peter: You're in my seat
Eric: I'm sorry, we don't let dogs on the furniture.
Heya Grimm! How about a one-shot of taking the boys to an amusement park?
Hey!! 💖
Omg yes—this sounds so fun. The chaos potential is unmatched.
Here you go!💌
Demon Drop (And Other Attractions)
Summary: You planned a chill, low-stakes day at the amusement park. Then you remembered: your demon roommates have no chill. Between ride chaos, haunted house trauma, and one destroyed animatronic bride—you might not survive the fun. But you’ve never laughed this much in your life.
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You were only trying to do something nice.
A normal day. A human day. One (1) outing where your demon idol roommates wouldn’t destroy a grocery store or trigger magical alarms at 7-Elevens.
An amusement park seemed like a safe bet.
You were wrong.
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First is Abby.
“Is it supposed to rattle like that?” you ask, watching a coaster do a full inversion.
Abby grins. “It’s better if it does.”
Fifteen minutes later he’s already on his third lap, arms raised, screaming not in fear but joy, like a golden retriever possessed by the spirit of extreme sports.
“Again!” he yells, face lit up. “That one had airtime! I got LIFT!”
You lose count of how many strangers high-five him in line.
He offers you a churro between laps.
“I got you,” he says, holding it up like a medal. “You kept the map. We make a good team.”
You eat the churro.
You agree.
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Jinu brings a color-coded itinerary.
No one follows it.
Romance keeps wandering. Baby vanishes into every food stall. Mystery steps into the mirror maze and doesn’t come back for twenty minutes.
By 2pm, Jinu is holding six maps and sighing.
“We were supposed to be at the bumper cars by now.”
“We’re at the emotional bumper cars,” Romance says from behind a glitter slushie.
Eventually, Jinu gives up and agrees to ride the carousel with you.
You pick a white tiger. He picks a deer. You try not to laugh when it starts spinning and he visibly regrets everything.
“It’s going faster than I thought,” he mutters.
“You’re fine.”
“It’s not dignified.”
You hand him your sunglasses.
“Now it is.”
----------------------------------
You turn around for five minutes.
When you look back, Baby is surrounded by five prize plushies and has a sixth slung over his shoulder like a trophy.
“How did you—”
“I hit the bottle pyramid three times.”
“In a row?”
“Blindfolded.”
He shrugs. “You wanted a normal day. This is me behaving.”
You stare at the pile of stuffed animals.
He picks the ugliest one (a bright yellow crocodile with lopsided eyes) and holds it out to you.
“This one’s yours,” he says. “It looks like it bites.”
“Is that… a compliment?”
“Obviously.”
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You lose track of Romance around the snack stands.
He reappears forty-five minutes later, covered in body glitter, with a flower crown and two extra wristbands that definitely didn’t come from the park.
“Did you go to a different event?”
“It found me.”
He spins, throwing a wink over his shoulder.
“Also I won a dance battle.”
“Romance, we were in line for the log flume.”
“You could’ve called.”
You did. Four times.
“I was in the moment,” he says, dramatically sipping a pink lemonade. “Also I think someone named Skylar wants to start a fan club.”
----------------------------------
You hand Mystery a stick of cotton candy.
He pokes it once. Sniffs it. Takes a small bite like he’s testing a potion.
Five minutes later he’s on a bench, covered in blue sugar, absolutely zoning out with a plush bat in his lap and glitter on his cheek.
You sit beside him.
“Having fun?”
He nods. Doesn’t say a word.
Later, when everyone’s taking a photo at the Ferris wheel, he holds the plush bat out next to his face.
The bat is also wearing sunglasses.
No one knows where they came from.
----------------------------------
You should’ve known better.
But the line was short. The sign was flashing. The guy in the fake vampire makeup was really convincing.
And when Baby raised one eyebrow and said, “Scared?” you had to prove a point.
So now you’re here.
In a dimly lit hallway. Behind a curtain made of bones. Between five demons. And at least three terrible choices.
----------------------------------
It starts normal.
A bit of fake thunder. Fog machines. Plastic cobwebs.
Jinu is focused. He's whispering tactical observations like it's a recon mission.
“There’s a trip wire at the corner. Pressure plates on the floor. Watch your step.”
“It’s a haunted house, not a dungeon,” you whisper back.
“You say that now.”
----------------------------------
Abby’s too tall and keeps ducking through archways. At one point he apologizes to a hanging skeleton prop for bumping into it.
“My bad, bro.”
Then the first jump scare happens—a spring-loaded clown lunges from the wall.
Romance shrieks.
Mystery laughs.
Not a normal laugh.
A low, echoing, demonic giggle like something just amused the darkness itself.
“That’s worse than the clown,” Abby mutters.
Romance is clinging to your arm now.
“I didn’t scream,” he lies.
“I was here,” you reply.
----------------------------------
You reach a flickering hallway with mirrors on both sides.
Mystery walks into one like a ghost gliding through space.
Jinu freezes.
“He’s not supposed to be able to do that.”
“Is he part of the attraction now?” Baby asks.
----------------------------------
Then come the animatronics.
Rotting ghouls, twitchy puppets, fake blood. Cheap, but effective.
Until one lunges too fast and nearly smacks you in the face.
You flinch.
And Baby hisses.
Not dramatically. Not loudly.
Just a soft growl under his breath. His eyes flick gold.
And then he punches the animatronic so hard its head spins sideways.
The sound echoes through the hallway like a thunderclap.
Jinu: “Baby.”
Abby: “Dude.”
Romance: “Kind of hot, not gonna lie.”
“It touched you,” Baby mutters.
“It’s foam,” you whisper.
“It touched you.”
----------------------------------
By the time you reach the last corridor—the one with the fog and the ominous red light—Jinu’s reassessed the situation.
“This is fine,” he mutters. “This is normal. People do this for fun.”
“You’re gripping my sleeve,” you point out.
“I’m anchoring.”
Romance is fully clinging to Abby now. “If something crawls out of the floor, I’m flipping over a railing.”
Mystery reappears from above, dropping in from a fake attic crawlspace like a polite cryptid.
“It’s looping,” he says calmly. “We’ve passed this hallway three times.”
“...Are we cursed?” you ask.
“Temporarily,” he replies.
----------------------------------
The finale?
A haunted bride drops from the ceiling on a wire pulley with a piercing shriek.
Baby growls again.
Mystery bows to her.
Romance screams for real.
Abby—bless him—tries to catch her.
“Let her fall with dignity,” Jinu yells, yanking him back.
----------------------------------
You all stumble out into daylight like survivors.
Your group photo from the ride is horrifying:
Romance is clutching your hoodie like a Victorian child
Abby is mid-reach with wild eyes
Jinu looks like he’s solving an exorcism
Mystery isn’t visible (but the fog in the corner might be him)
Baby is baring his teeth at the camera
And you’re in the middle, laughing so hard you’re crying
You buy the photo.
You’re framing the photo.
And the next time Baby tries to act cool, you just raise your eyebrows and say:
“Don’t punch the bride this time.”
He glares.
Then grins.
----------------------------------
Later
The sun’s setting. The park’s starting to empty. But the Saja Boys are very much not done being menaces to peace and reason.
You’re all crammed into a corner food court table with one giant funnel cake, three forks, and absolutely no rules.
Powdered sugar is everywhere.
Baby’s licking it off his fingers. Jinu is holding napkins like a shield. Romance is sipping soda with the haunted house photo on the table like it’s court evidence.
And that’s when you casually say:
“Okay, but who screamed the loudest?”
The table goes silent.
Jinu clears his throat. “Well, I didn’t scream.”
“You squeaked,” Baby says without looking up.
“It was reflexive exhale panic, not a squeak.”
“Sounded like a teakettle.”
Romance raises a hand. “I think we can all agree Abby screamed the loudest.”
“I said ‘whoa’ very loudly!” Abby defends. “For safety!”
“You tried to catch the animatronic bride,” Jinu mutters.
“I’m polite!”
Mystery, finally breaking his silence, calmly sets a napkin down.
“The answer,” he says, “is Romance.”
Romance gasps like you accused him of high treason. “Me?!”
“We have proof,” Baby says, holding up the ride photo.
Romance squints. “That doesn’t show sound.”
“It shows fear,” you say gently.
He slaps a hand over his heart. “I was performing. It was method acting.”
“You were trying to climb me like a tree,” Abby reminds him.
----------------------------------
Eventually, the debate cools down. Mystery wins by silent vote. You all agree to disagree on whether Jinu squeaked or “whimpered in tactical retreat.”
Summary: You decide it’s time to teach the Saja Boys how to use smartphones. This turns out to be the worst mistake you’ve ever made. From autocorrect disasters to weaponized selfies, haunted filters, group chat crimes, and Baby’s terrifying rise in Subway Surfers—your phone will never be safe again.
----------------------------------------------
Step 1: The Basics
You were five minutes into the tutorial and already considering throwing the entire group chat idea off the roof.
“Okay,” you said, with the voice of someone who had absolutely explained this before, “to unlock the phone, you swipe up from the bottom. Just one smooth motion with your thumb. Like this.”
You demonstrated. The lock screen vanished. Easy.
Jinu leaned forward, brows furrowed like you’d just performed a complicated summoning ritual.
“Wait, that’s it?” he asked, suspicious.
“That’s it,” you said.
Jinu took his phone like it was a bomb that might detonate. He placed his thumb gently against the screen.
Nothing.
He tried again. Slower.
Still nothing.
“It doesn’t recognize me,” he said darkly. “This is personal.”
“You have to swipe, not pat it,” you said, trying not to laugh.
“I am swiping,” he said, now dragging his whole palm across the screen like he was trying to exorcise it.
Baby peeked over his shoulder. “You’re caressing it like a ghost bride.”
“I don’t know what that means!”
Abby reached for his phone. “I’ll try!”
You nodded, relieved. “Okay, see if you can—”
Abby pressed so hard his knuckle tapped the SOS emergency screen.
You launched forward. “NOPE nope nope— okay, we’re exiting that—great.”
Abby blinked. “Why is it asking if I need the authorities?”
“Because the phone thinks you’re being kidnapped.”
Romance, already lounging on the couch, casually unlocked his screen in a smooth, practiced flick. “I like the phone,” he purred. “It understands me.”
“I hate that it does,” Jinu muttered.
You turned to Mystery. “You wanna give it a go?”
Mystery didn’t answer. He was already holding his phone upside-down, silently trying to will it open with pure shadow energy.
“…That’s not how it works,” you said gently.
He looked at you. Blinked once. Then flipped the phone around and unlocked it with a single swipe.
“…Did you just—?”
He shrugged. “I observed.”
You turned to Baby.
He stared down at his phone, unmoving.
“You okay there?”
He slowly poked the screen.
Once.
With his index finger.
Like it might bite him.
Nothing happened.
He looked up at you.
“It’s broken.”
“It’s not broken, Baby. You just have to touch it.”
“I did touch it.”
“With the enthusiasm of a dying slug!”
He poked it again. It lit up—briefly—then timed out.
“I don’t trust it,” he said.
Romance threw his head back laughing. “He’s scared of a rectangle.”
Baby snapped, “You’re scared of commitment.”
You raised both hands. “Okay! Let’s pause and try this again. Together.”
Jinu sighed. Abby flexed. Mystery stared. Romance winked at the lock screen. Baby poked it like it insulted his mother.
You were starting to understand why every ancient text warned against summoning multiple demons at once.
----------------------------------------------
Step 1.5: Autocorrect Betrayal
“You have to text clearly,” you said, leaning over Jinu’s shoulder as he stared down at the messaging app like it had just challenged him to single combat.
“I am texting clearly,” he said, slowly jabbing the letters one by one with his index finger.
You glanced at the message he’d typed:
“Thank you for your time. We will make the necessary preparations to… consume you.”
“…Okay,” you said gently, “so you meant to say ‘confirm’ that, not ‘consume,’ right?”
He froze. “…Did I not?”
“No.”
Romance, from across the room: “Honestly, it’s more efficient that way.”
Jinu immediately began mashing the backspace button with growing panic. “Why would the phone assume ‘consume?’ What kind of human interactions is it basing that on?”
“It’s predictive text,” you said. “It learns how you talk over time.”
“Oh,” Mystery said from the floor, peeking up over the back of the couch, “then we’re doomed.”
You turned to Abby. “You okay with yours?”
He held up his phone proudly.
“hi this is Abby i would like to no if u do the meats pizza with the the cheese and also the onions thank you”
“…You know what? That’s actually impressive.”
“I watched three TikToks about phone etiquette,” he said.
Romance leaned over your shoulder. “Let me try.”
You handed him your phone. Mistake.
In five seconds, he had opened Messages, typed “So are you up or just emotionally unavailable? 😏” and nearly sent it to your grandma.
“STOP.”
“You have so many contacts,” he said, impressed. “Who is ‘Work Dentist’?”
“I don’t even know anymore,” you muttered, snatching your phone back.
Meanwhile, Baby sat in the corner, hunched over his phone. Silent. Focused. His brows drawn together in deep concentration.
“Baby?” you asked. “You texting?”
He nodded. “Practicing.”
You leaned over to peek.
He was texting you. From across the room.
🧍
🧍
🧍 “The meat witch is watching me.”
You: “…What?”
“Autocorrect,” he said solemnly. “I meant ‘microwave.’”
----------------------------------------------
Five minutes later, Mystery handed you his phone. He had typed a single, cryptic sentence in his notes app:
“The cheese knows what I’ve done.”
You blinked. “Did you mean to type this?”
He stared at you blankly. “No.”
“…Do you regret typing this?”
He paused.
“No.”
You ended the lesson there, mostly because Abby accidentally voice-texted “SEND NUDES” to the pizza place while trying to ask about extra mushrooms.
To their credit, the pizza place responded,
“No, but we do have breadsticks.”
And that’s how you earned a permanent note in their system labeled: “Do not engage with chaos group.”
----------------------------------------------
Step 2: Group Chat Setup
You created the group chat out of necessity, not optimism.
After thirty minutes of individually texting everyone to remind them not to microwave metal (again), you decided enough was enough.
One thread. One chat. One place for them to scream into the digital void.
It should have been easy.
It wasn’t.
----------------------------------------------
You started it simply.
You: “Hi. This is the new group chat. Be normal.”
Jinu immediately replied:
Jinu: “What is the appropriate etiquette for tone and punctuation?”
Romance: “Hot take: let’s call this chat ‘Thirst Circle 💋’”
You: “NO.”
Romance: “Sorry, that was for my other group.”
Abby: “Can it be called MUSCLE UNITY 💪🔥”
Baby: “call it SQUAD”
You: “You know what? Abby, you name it.”
Big mistake.
Two seconds later, the group was officially labeled:
“SQUAD, BUT MAKE IT DEMONIC 😈🔥🔥🔥🧍”
“You added the little standing guy,” you said, staring at Baby.
He shrugged. “He’s the mascot.”
“Of what?!”
----------------------------------------------
The chaos spiraled quickly.
Romance kept changing the name every five minutes:
“Thirst Circle 💋”
“Chaos Coven 🌶️”
“Twerk Coven 🔥🧎”
“Oh god Jinu saw this one hold on—”
You eventually restricted nickname permissions.
Mystery renamed himself in the chat to “.”
Just a period. Nothing more.
“Are you trying to be ominous?” you asked.
“I am ominous,” he replied.
Abby added a profile pic of his bicep. You didn’t ask where the lighting came from, but it was suspiciously professional.
Jinu’s picture was a picture of a textbook. Literally just… a textbook.
“Do I need a face photo?” he asked. “Is that expected for group bonding?”
“No,” you said. “But maybe something that’s not a copyright-free image of a law journal.”
He nodded seriously. “Understood.”
(He changed it to a picture of a tree. You let him have it.)
----------------------------------------------
Pinned Message: You eventually pinned a message that read:
“🛑 NO threatening anyone via emoji
✅ Be respectful
❌ DO NOT summon things in here
✅ No baby photos of each other without permission
❌ No hexes
❌ No shirtless mirror pics before 10am”
Romance reacted to it with a heart.
Mystery reacted with a skull.
Baby sent 🧍 again.
You gave up and muted the chat.
For ten minutes.
Until Abby sent:
Abby: “Help. My phone just told me to call ‘Mommy.’ I don’t know who that is. Is that you??”
----------------------------------------------
Step 3: Emojis and Overuse Thereof
You introduced emojis because it seemed harmless.
A fun way to help the boys express themselves, you thought. Little images. Harmless shapes. Smiley faces. What could possibly go wrong?
Answer: everything.
----------------------------------------------
It started innocently.
“So emojis are basically tone indicators,” you explained, holding up your phone. “You know, smiley faces for happy messages, hearts for affection—”
“Visual emotion markers,” Jinu repeated, squinting like he was studying scripture.
“Right,” you said. “Just… don’t overdo it.”
----------------------------------------------
Abby immediately overdid it.
He typed like he was trying to summon an emoji-based deity.
“We need more rice 🍚🍚🍚🔥🔥💪💪💪🙏🫶💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️”
You blinked. “That’s for rice?”
“It’s a food emergency,” he said gravely.
You opened another text.
“Bathroom’s out of soap 🚿😔🧼🧼🧼🧼💀💀🔥🔥🔥🔥🧻🧻”
You stared. “Is the fire necessary?”
“Yes,” he said. “For emphasis.”
----------------------------------------------
Jinu, on the other hand, resisted entirely.
“Language exists for clarity,” he argued. “Icons only encourage confusion.”
You nodded. “Fair.”
Later that day, he sent:
“I’ve stabilized the mirror rune. 🙂”
You: “...Are you mad or happy?”
Jinu: “The smile is neutral.”
You: “No it’s not. It’s threatening.”
Jinu: “Then I’ll remove it.”
“I’ve stabilized the mirror rune.”
You: “That’s worse.”
He added a thumbs-up.
You blocked him for five minutes.
----------------------------------------------
Romance discovered the peach emoji and hasn’t looked back since.
“Are you free tonight? 🍑💦👀”
You: “Romance.”
“Need help folding laundry? 🍑👕🛏️😉”
You: “Romance.”
“Do we have milk? 🥛🍑🥛🍑”
You: “I’M BEGGING YOU.”
He winked at you in person, then changed his contact name to “Certified 🍑 User.”
----------------------------------------------
Mystery uses emojis like divination tools.
He never sends a full sentence. Just cryptic clusters of unrelated chaos.
🦷🌕🧃📉
“This is what my tea tastes like,” he explained once.
Another time:
“Abby stole my socks 🧦🦴🧼🕳️”
You: “That tells me nothing.”
Mystery: “Then it’s working.”
----------------------------------------------
And Baby…
Baby uses one emoji.
🧍
That’s it.
That’s the emoji.
He texts it at all hours, with no context.
🧍
🧍🧍
🧍(threatening)
You once tried to ask if he wanted food. He replied:
🧍🍖🧍💥🧍🧍🧍
You’re 90% sure he started a war in emoji form.
----------------------------------------------
Eventually, you sent a group message:
“New rule: Limit yourselves to 3 emojis per message.”
Romance responded:
“But I’m 4 emojis deep in my feelings 🥺🍑💘😢”
Mystery replied with:
🕯️🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍
Baby just sent 19 🧍 in a row.
You considered deleting the group chat.
And maybe the internet.
And yourself.
----------------------------------------------
Step 4: Photos and Selfies
Introducing the boys to the camera app should’ve been easy.
You were wrong.
----------------------------------------------
You: “Okay, this is the camera. Tap to take a photo. Swipe left for video. Front-facing camera is—”
Abby: “Can it capture velocity?”
You: “No. This isn’t an anime opening.”
Romance: click (He just took a photo of you. With flash.)
You: “STOP THAT.”
----------------------------------------------
You sent a message in the group chat:
You: “Send one (1) normal selfie. No chaos.”
That was your second mistake.
----------------------------------------------
Abby: Sends a perfectly lit bicep pic with dramatic shadows. Caption: “strong angle 💪🔥”
You: “Okay, but maybe include your face?”
Abby: “Bicep is face.”
You: “It is not.”
----------------------------------------------
Romance: Sends five photos. One with a rose between his teeth. Another shirtless. One suspiciously filtered to look like oil paint.
Romance: “Thoughts? Be honest.”
You: “You’re holding a bottle of olive oil like it’s wine.”
Romance: “Because I’m smooth, rich, and good on everything.”
Jinu: “That was vile.”
----------------------------------------------
Jinu: Sends a completely blurry image.
You: “What is this?”
Jinu: “It was supposed to be Mystery.”
You: “There’s nothing in this photo.”
Jinu: “Exactly.”
(He later sent a photo of a fire extinguisher labeled “safety.”)
----------------------------------------------
Mystery: Sends a photo of a crumpled sock in sunlight. Caption: “quiet warmth.”
You: “Do you even take selfies?”
Mystery: “This is me.”
You didn’t respond. You just… sat with that.
----------------------------------------------
Baby: Sends 36 rapid photos of his own forehead.
You: “What are you doing.”
Baby: “Watching myself blink in slow motion.”
You: “I’m deleting your camera app.”
He responds with 7 🧍 emojis and a grainy picture of his eye.
----------------------------------------------
You tried once—once—to take a group selfie.
It went like this:
Abby flexed at the last second.
Romance duck-faced and winked.
Jinu blinked mid-shot.
Mystery wasn’t visible in the photo at all.
Baby flipped the camera off.
You didn’t delete it.
It’s now the banner for the group chat.
And you titled it:
“New Phone, Who Dis? 📱🔥🧍”
----------------------------------------------
Step 4.5: The Filter Spiral
It all started when you showed them how to swipe for filters.
Just a casual, innocent, “Look, this one gives you cat ears!”
And then the world ended.
----------------------------------------------
Romance immediately fell down the rabbit hole like it owed him rent.
You caught him posing under a hanging plant for “natural light,” his phone balanced on a cup of ramen, glitter filter turned all the way up.
“Do I look… tragically divine?” he asked.
You didn’t answer. You were too distracted by the sparkle trails around his head and the fake beauty mark the app gave him.
Abby hovered behind him, whispering, “You look soft. Like a marshmallow. But powerful.”
Then he downloaded the app too.
Within ten minutes, Abby had discovered the “rainbow lens flare” filter and declared it “spiritually honest.”
Every time he took a picture, he said something like:
“I feel like this light represents my soul.”
“This glow is who I want to become.”
You weren’t going to argue. His teeth sparkled when he smiled.
----------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, Jinu refused. Flat-out.
He said filters were “a distortion of digital identity and emotional clarity.”
Five minutes later, Romance snapped a stealth shot of Jinu using the “soft contour + sparkle eyes” filter—and it turned out absurdly flattering.
Everyone went silent.
Jinu stared at the screen.
“…I look ethereal,” he whispered.
You tried to stop him before he downloaded a photo editing app.
You failed.
----------------------------------------------
Baby found one filter. Just one.
The one that made his eyes glow red and added anime speed lines.
He used it once.
Then again.
Then in every photo, video, and mirror reflection from that moment on.
You tried to talk him out of it.
He sent you a Boomerang of himself blinking with red eyes and the caption:
“🧍🔥💢🧍🔥💢🧍”
----------------------------------------------
Mystery didn’t speak. He just quietly applied the glitch filter to a selfie.
The result was… unsettling.
His face flickered, half-faded, the background looped into static. You blinked and it was gone.
Next, he took a video using the “face disappear” filter.
Caption: “Finally.”
You asked if he was okay.
He sent back a skull emoji and vanished behind a potted plant.
----------------------------------------------
Eventually, you opened the group chat and saw this string of messages:
Abby: “LOOK AT MY LIGHT BEAMS 🌈💪💫”
Romance: [photo of himself in vintage filter with the caption “dream me softly”] Jinu: “how do you remove chin shine but keep the ambient glow asking for a friend”
Mystery: [video labeled “i am not perceivable”] Baby: 🧍🧍🧍🧍 (with glowing red eyes)
You closed the app.
They were gone now.
Lost to the spiral.
----------------------------------------------
Step 5: Texting Etiquette (Failed)
You gave them rules.
Simple ones.
No texts after midnight
No spam
No threats via emoji
No shirtless mirror pics before 10am
No live summoning attempts through the group chat
You even pinned the message.
You: “Please use this chat responsibly.”
They did not.
----------------------------------------------
It started subtly. A gentle unraveling.
One night at 12:47 a.m., Romance sent:
“Is it normal to crave both emotional intimacy and garlic bread?”
At 1:03 a.m., Abby responded:
“YES 🧄💪🔥”
At 1:15 a.m., Mystery sent:
“I’m under the bed. Not sure whose bed.”
You decided not to engage.
----------------------------------------------
Baby texted you at 4:22 a.m.
🧍
🧍
🧍
🧍
“im in ur room lol”
He wasn’t.
…Right?
You got up and checked.
He was standing in the hallway. Staring.
Phone in hand.
No expression.
Just slowly sending more 🧍 in real time.
----------------------------------------------
Jinu was no better.
He texted full essays. At 6 a.m. sharp.
“I’ve come to understand that sleep is unnecessary when fueled by rage and chamomile. The duality of man.”
You muted the chat.
Then unmuted it out of fear.
----------------------------------------------
Mystery stopped using words entirely.
One morning you woke up to:
🕯️🌊🪞🔪🐚🦴🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷
You responded:
“Did something happen?”
He replied:
“It’s happening now.”
You put your phone face-down and went back to bed.
----------------------------------------------
The texting styles only made it worse:
Abby voice-texts everything. Sometimes while chewing.
Romance sends paragraphs.
“buying eggs. protein. flex. truck.” crunch
With line breaks.
And mood. “You ever feel like… the moonlight is looking at you instead?”
“Anyway, anyone wanna split dumplings?”
Jinu uses perfect grammar and terrifying punctuation.
Baby just sends 🧍.
“I have taken the liberty of organizing our supplies. Do not move them. :)”
No context.
No words.
Just: 🧍
And sometimes:
🧍🔥🧍🔥🧍🔥🧍🔥
----------------------------------------------
You tried to implement rules again.
“Okay. New rule. No texting after midnight unless it’s an emergency.”
Immediately, Romance replied:
“Emotionally or physically?”
Abby added:
“What if I miss you? Emotionally and physically?”
Mystery replied with a crow emoji and a question mark.
Baby responded at 11:59 with:
🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍
“emotional emergency incoming”
----------------------------------------------
You gave up.
You muted the chat again.
For real this time.
But then, two hours later, you saw this message:
Jinu: “Is… Baby glowing?? Should he be glowing??”
And one from Mystery:
“i think the filter became real”
You turned your phone back on.
Again.
----------------------------------------------
Step 5.5: Mobile Games
You thought teaching them how to download apps would be harmless.
You were wrong.
Very wrong.
----------------------------------------------
It all started with you showing Abby how to install a recipe app. Easy enough.
But three hours later, everyone was fully obsessed with games you hadn’t even mentioned.
You: “How did you all find Subway Surfers?”
Baby: “It found me.”
----------------------------------------------
Abby picked a farming simulator.
You were thrilled—until he started min-maxing crop yields and naming his chickens after famous warriors.
“This is General Cluckles. He’s seen things.”
He made spreadsheets. Color-coded spreadsheets. You didn't know whether to be proud or afraid.
----------------------------------------------
Romance downloaded Love Island: The Game.
He immediately maxed out his charm stat and is now romantically entangled with six NPCs.
“I’m only doing this for research,” he said.
“Research for what?”
“Flirting analytics.”
He also tried to mod the game to include your face.
You confiscated his phone.
He downloaded it on Abby’s instead.
----------------------------------------------
Jinu downloaded chess.
Not a fun mobile chess app. Not like, “learn to play!” chess.
No—he downloaded a tournament tracker and three AI sparring apps.
He now speaks in phrases like:
“He sacrificed the bishop in six… bold.”
You walked in once and found him playing against a CPU rated 2400.
His eyes were glowing.
You backed out slowly.
----------------------------------------------
Mystery somehow ended up with a haunted tamagotchi.
You don’t know what the app was supposed to be, but now his screen shows:
A blinking eye
An icon labeled “FEED?”
And every now and then, a glitchy voice whispering “It grows…”
You told him to delete it.
He whispered back, “I love it.”
----------------------------------------------
And Baby?
Baby downloaded Subway Surfers.
And then something… happened.
Day 1: He was bad at it. Walked into the first train. Got a 15.
Day 2: 1,500 points.
Day 3: He was dodging obstacles that weren’t there.
By Day 4, he had:
Maxed out every character
Memorized every map variant
Started doing combo parkour tricks no human should be able to pull off
“You’re sliding through fire,” you said.
“I am fire,” he said.
He now plays while making eye contact with you.
He doesn’t blink.
You're pretty sure his patterns glow when he hits a perfect streak.
----------------------------------------------
You tried taking their phones away.
Romance said, “But my digital boyfriend needs me.”
Baby sent you 🧍
You gave up.
----------------------------------------------
Epilogue: The Damage Is Done
Later that week, you left your phone charging for ten minutes.
When you came back, Abby had it in his hands.
“Abby…” you said slowly.
“I was just checking something!” he insisted.
You took a breath. “You Googled ‘do demons have bones.’”
From the kitchen, Romance called out, “Do we?”
“I HAVE BONES,” Abby shouted defensively.
Mystery nodded from the couch without looking up. “They creak.”
----------------------------------------------
That night, you sat all five of them down for a review.
Mystery was slicing virtual fruit like it had wronged him, phone at 4% and falling fast.
Jinu was deep in Settings trying to disable every app permission “for safety.”
Baby had subscribed to seven different mukbang YouTube channels and was now playing all of them simultaneously.
Romance kept switching between two phones. You didn’t know where the second one came from. You were afraid to ask.
You exhaled.
And then—smiled.
There was only one frontier left.
“…Okay,” you said. “Who wants to learn how to make a TikTok?”
Romance bolted upright. “I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT MY ENTIRE AFTERLIFE.”
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