#everett x mc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eadanga · 5 months

Text

Birthday Night (NSFW)

Anna stood with the crew as they celebrated Everett’s birthday. She smiled as she watched him eye all the food I’m so glad he’s loving this even those he said he didn’t want any surprises but he’s enjoying it anyway Anna stood until she realized something Oh God I forgot his gift

Anna quickly smiles as Everett comes up to her “Hey there beautiful”

She blushes “Hi”

“Can you believe the food here?” He scoffs “I could have made this all so much better”

Anna laughs “Yes I know you could”

“And I know you told everyone it was my birthday and you put this whole thing together”

Anna smiles “Guilty as charged just wanted you to have an amazing birthday and I kept it low key”

Everett looks around and nods “I’m glad you did you know I hate surprise parties” He smirks as he pulls her into his arms “I rather have our own party later”

Anna giggles “Keep it PG tiger there’s plenty of time for that”

“I don’t care who’s watching” He kisses her deeply running his hands through her hair

Anna smiles into the kiss “Everett…”

“Yes?”

She pulls away “We better stop before you change your mind and take me on the table in front of everyone”

Everett chuckles “You’re right I’ll see you later sexy here’s my room key” He kisses her cheek and walks away

Anna sighs “I wonder what I can get him” She thinks for a moment then smiles “I’ve got it” She pulls out her phone “I think there’s a lingerie shop nearby”

****

Anna slowly went into the room and pulled off her jacket admiring the red lingerie she just purchased I know he’s gonna love this She hears the door open and she quickly lays on the bed Everett comes into the room and she smirks “Hi there”

His jaw drops when he sees her “Anna…”

She stands and slowly walks over to him “Like it?”

Everett’s hands make their way over her body “I fucking love it is this my birthday present?”

“Yes I didn’t know what to get you so this was last minute”

“Damn you look so sexy best birthday gift ever” He lifts her up into his arms kissing her deeply and puts her on the bed he kisses her neck “So hot”

Anna sighs with pleasure “Everett…”

“Mmmm” He kisses her breast

Anna smirks “Want me to take it off?”

“Hell no” He pushes her legs aside and pulls off her underwear rubbing her gently “I’m taking you just like this”

Anna moans “Mmm that feels good”

“Are you ready for me Anna?”

“Yes…”

He growls “Say it”

“I want you Everett”

He smirks then unzips his pants and strokes himself then goes deep inside her Anna moans loudly at the feeling of him

“Fuck you feel so good” He wraps her leg around his waist and he begins to thrust slowly then picks up the pace

“Fuck that’s it Anna”

“Mmmm Everett” She feels herself getting close “I’m gonna come”

“Yes come for me baby”

“Everett!” She comes as she screams his name

He continues to thrust before he finds his release Hr holds her tightly then looks into her eyes “I love you”

“I love you too”

He kisses her softly “This wouldn’t be an amazing birthday without you” He kisses her deeply

Tags: @mfackenthal @indiacater @the-soot-sprite

#choices fanfiction #choices fan fiction #chris fanfiction #slow burn #everett flynt #everett x mc

0 notes

queenbirbs · 7 months

Text

mise en place | chapter one | everett flynt x mc

Book: Slow Burn

Pairing: Everett Flynt x f!MC

Rating: General (rating will change for future chapters)

Word count: 2.3k

Summary: On the heels of their successful first season, Jules packs her bags once again and tries to juggle all of her obligations -- to the show, to her family, and to her relationship with Everett. Or: season two of Taste of the World.

Fic playlist is linked here.

Lingering just out of frame, Jules Santos pulled out her phone and zoomed in for a quick photo of the dish on the counter.

There really wasn’t much need for stealth, seeing as she was the guest host and had already filmed her segment. Besides, the family was crowded around the oven, watching as host Christee Clark put the finishing touches on her vastly improved version.

Jules would never judge people for what they cooked at home. She had spent her fair share of paydays buying instant ramen because it was the only thing she could afford after bills. What’s for Dinner?’s concept wasn’t built on the expectation that people chosen in grocery store parking lots would be creating Michelin-star dishes. But the longer she stared at the McDavid family’s entry into the competition, the queasier she got. Tapping on her most recent conversation, she sent over the monstrosity. A few seconds later, her phone brightened with an incoming text.

Everett: What on earth am I looking at?

Jules: hotdog lasagna

Everett: Please tell me you don’t have to do a taste test

Jules: it’s part of the contract

Across the room, Christee set a timer for her lasagna and turned to speak to the camera. She cycled through two or three sendoffs before the director called cut and the crew repositioned their equipment. Jules ducked underneath a boom mic as it swung across the cramped kitchen.

Everett: Then I’m obligated to call you with a fake emergency to get you out of it

Jules: you’re sweet, but no. I’m a tough cookie 😊

Everett: It’s your funeral

A photo of a downtown skyline appeared in the chat, the towering buildings sparkling against the evening sky. Even better was the ghostly reflection of Everett in the window, his dark eyes narrowed in concentration – the kind she usually saw above a range. It was just poor luck they had both been booked as guests on shows, though at least hers was close to home. The same couldn’t be said for Everett’s episode of RSVP: Atlanta. It had only been nine days since she’d seen him last, but she missed him. The time alone did give her a chance to knock some important things off her to-do list, though.

With the upgraded lasagna in the oven for another thirty minutes, Jules made her way through the McDavid’s house and out their front door. The family dog trotted out after her and flopped onto the porch. The Ventura suburb didn’t offer much in views, so she took a seat on the steps and gave Everett a ring.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he answered, his voice warm in her ear.

“We’re on a break, so I thought I’d call. How goes the episode?”

“Good.” She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, petting the chocolate Labrador beside her and listening as Everett described the locations and their prized dishes. “Some of these restaurants might lead the city to becoming a top ten foodie destination soon, per Julian. Who, by the way,” he all but growled, “abandoned me today to go scout a possible location for season three.”

The idea sent a little flutter in her chest. A third season wasn’t a guarantee yet, but it didn’t seem preposterous, given how close they were to starting the second season.

“Always thinking ahead, our Julian,” she said with a grin.

An undignified snort sounded from the other end. “Yeah, sure. But anyway, tomorrow we’ve got an early morning at a cafe in Buckhead and then I’m off the airport. Think my flight lands at two.”

“Hmm. I don’t know if I’ll be done by then,” she lied. “Is Cam able to pick you up?”

“He said he’d be available, don’t worry about it,” he said. “I wouldn’t wish LAX on a Friday afternoon on my worst enemy.”

“I’d do it for you.”

“I know you would.”

One of the PAs called her name from inside the house, rousing her from their pleasant bubble. She tried to hide the pathetic-sounding groan, but Everett must have heard it, judging from his familiar huff of laughter.

“Wish me luck.”

“I recommend chasing that lasagna with some antacids.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled as she got to her feet. “Text me when you board tomorrow?”

“Will do. Love you.”

That little flutter returned at his words. “Love you, too.”

Yesterday, this seemed like a cute idea. It wasn’t often that she got to surprise Everett – the man was so vehemently against surprises that he was usually able to suss them out before she finished planning them. This time, however, she had a day-old set photo, Cam as an accomplice, and 2,100 miles on her side. So, when Everett texted her that he was boarding, she sent him a picture of the McDavid family’s Lab. Then she finished her laundry, exchanged emails with her realtor, stared at the messy document that was her cookbook draft, and made the forty-five minute drive to the airport.

If anyone inside the terminal recognized her underneath the oversized sun hat, they didn’t say. Which was fine with Jules, seeing as how she was trying to calm her racing heartbeat. She’d never been a fan of crowds, especially when she had to face them alone. Her grandmother once told her it stemmed from an incident at a hometown festival when Jules was seven. She got separated from her family for over two hours – not that she recalled any of it, the memories lost to trauma and/or time.

Not wanting to attract any overzealous fans, she had forgone any signage. Everett had an uncanny ability to pick her out of a crowd, anyway. Which is why, when she spotted him stalking towards baggage claim in his baseball hat, it only took another moment before his scowl fell away and he changed course.

“Hey, strange–” Before she could finish her greeting, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her close for a hug.

“I’ve waited ten days to do that,” he told her as he set her back down. “This is a nice surprise. You didn’t have to come get me, you know.”

“I know.” She leaned up on her toes, smiling into the kiss when the brim of his hat knocked into hers. “I wanted to.”

Everett reached for her hand and together, they navigated through the torrent of people and onto the escalator. After snagging his luggage, they made their way out to the parking lot. Her 1963 Rambler was a bright pop of powder blue, standing out easily from all the gray Civics and white Camrys. It had a faulty odometer and the gears were a little stiff, but her grandfather had taken good care of it for fifty years, before gifting it to her on her eighteenth birthday.

“Next time we go to that drive-in, we’re taking this car,” Everett told her as they settled in, taking off his hat and running his fingers through the dark strands.

“But yours is the one with tinted windows.”

Gripping the gear stick, she held his gaze for a long beat, long enough that she didn’t miss the sly tilt of his mouth. Just as she prepared to back out of their space, though, he moved. Leaning across the bench seat, he tipped her hat up and trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

“With our disguises are out of the way, I’d—”

Jules slid across the last few inches of leather and pressed her lips to his, silencing his suave line. It was a tender kiss, soft and slow – as were all the ones that followed until they parted for air.

“Now that’s what I was waiting ten days for.”

“As always,” he said with a grin, “I’m happy to oblige.”

Season two of Taste of the World started off in the spirited, southern city of Nashville, Tennessee. After doing his research, Julian determined it would be optimal to start their shoot there the first week of March. It would be a little chilly, but it would get them in and out of the city before the bach party season kicked off. It was too bad, then, that filming started the first week of August – mostly due to studio execs hemming and hawing over the budget.

Seated next to Jules on the plane, Vivian scrolled through a shoe store’s listings, joking about buying the gaudiest cowboy boots she could find.

“You need look no further,” Zara murmured from in front of them, making a show of glancing down the plane. Jules bit back a laugh when she followed her gaze to a man wearing a pair of turquoise-and-fuschia boots with a peacock plumage stitched across the toe box.

The second season’s first location was Birdie’s, a deli on the west side. Tucked in amongst the traditional cottages and the grayscale townhomes, its tattered awning and dull brick weren’t doing it any favors. Neither was the sign, missing from atop the pole in the tiny parking lot. Stepping into the restaurant, the dark wood paneling and chipped Formica tables only added to the dated image. Above the counter, the menu spanned across the back wall: one panel for meat-and-threes, one for daily specials, another for drinks and milkshakes and desserts, and a last panel for sides. The amount of choices was overwhelming. Looking around, it appeared that the only clientele were the folks who had been around when it first opened. The delicious scent of the daily special – fried catfish and hush puppies – gave some indication on why they would keep returning.

Delia Harris met them behind the counter, clad in a grease-stained apron and cornmeal-coated sneakers. She became the sudden owner of Birdie’s five years ago and had been struggling to keep it open for the last three. After the small lunch crowd trickled out, she talked with them in the kitchen as her wife Collins cleaned and prepped for dinner. Delia gave them the historical spiel on the business: opened by her grandparents in 1971, Birdie’s was named in honor of her great-grandmother, Beatrice. In 2001, the deli was passed down to Delia’s mother and uncle, who continued the success. When they were tragically killed in a car accident in late 2016, Delia stepped in and took over.

“The original plan was that when my mama and Uncle Jimmy were tired of running things, Birdie’s would go to his son, Anthony,” Delia continued, dabbing a napkin under her eyes as she talked. “But when the dust settled, he admitted that he didn’t want to. He didn’t spend enough time here to really know how to run the place, and he was worried he would run it into the ground.” Sniffling, she balled the napkin up and shot them a sardonic smile. “Ironic, I know.”

Used to dealing with Zara’s curt attitude, Jules waited with bated breath for her to jump in with commands to move the scene along. But Zara kept quiet, muttering only to the crew as she kept her attentive gaze on the owners. Maybe the network execs had actually talked to her like they promised. It was the first episode, though, and only time would tell.

“What do you think is the main reason your place isn’t doing well?” Julian asked, to which Delia huffed a short laugh.

“Money.” Standing beside her, Collins clicked her tongue and made a rolling gesture with her hand. Delia shuffled her feet for a moment and then sighed. “It really is the biggest problem we have. I’ve had to cut corners to pay the rising costs and the few employees we do have.”

She showed them the trash bags in the back, where the soiled rags and aprons went for her to take them to the laundromat, since she could no longer afford a company to do so. Local ingredients had to be swapped for cheaper, frozen ones, resulting in a loss of quality. When a tornado tore through the city last year, it had taken her sign and some of the roof with it. The roof was an easy, albeit costly, fix – but the sign was original, built by her grandfather. A photo of it, along with her grandparents, hung proudly behind the counter. Beside it, a more recent photo of her mother and uncle posed under the sign.

“I’ve tried to keep things the same, but we’ve had to update and adapt,” Delia continued. “I’ve been adding stuff to the menu to keep up with the competition, but in all honesty, I’m not sure if it’s helped or not. Other stuff was necessary, you know, like creating an online presence. My mama and Uncle Jimmy didn’t ever bother with that kinda stuff. I was the one who set up their Jabbr for them back in the day,” she said, followed by a quick laugh. “But with that and the Pictagram account and the Foodie page came the need for online ordering and delivery. I spent two years dealing with the industry giants, but they were more trouble than they were worth, so we’ve been doing the deliveries since.”

“She means she’s been doing them,” Collins cut in. “Our delivery gal moved back down to Murfreesboro last year, because she was priced out of her apartment here.”

“We try our best to pay people a living wage, but inflation has hit the south pretty hard. A lot of locals have left the city for greener pastures, especially with all the gentrification driving people out.” Delia fiddled with a stack of napkins and sighed. “We’ve had more than our share of offers to buy the place – mostly from developers that would raze the building and plop down another luxury apartment. But I couldn’t face myself if I let that happen without a fight. So, it’s been a balancing act to pay the bills and our employees and get customers in the door. We can handle the first two, but the last one is proving to be the hardest. That’s why we contacted y’all for help.”

“And that’s what we’re here to do,” Everett promised.

Author's notes and what-have-yous:

I have been working on this fic on and off since January 2022, figured it was high time to post the first chapter at least. I know the fandom for this book is like nonexistent but I've already written like 23k for this fic and I needed to go ahead and post something of it.

Continue on to chapter two

#choices slow burn #everett flynt x mc #everett x mc #choices slow burn fic #Kaila writes things #f: mise en place #c: jules santos

1 note · View note

asexual-hugger · 1 year

Text

FALLEN EMBERS, BOOK 1

Chapter 1: Test Subject Number 20

IWWA RESEARCH FACILITY

ST. LUCIA

8:03 PM

The young woman raced silently through the long halls. The lights along the walls glowed brightly, lighting up every hallway with bright white light. Everything looked the same. No matter where she glanced, each hallway looked identical to the last. However, she had an advantage: she knew this part of the facility like the back of her hand. She’d been held here since she was six years old.

The floors were clean and polished, so her slippery feet hardly made a sound. She had to watch for the guards working the night shift. If she was caught, it would be back to the room for her. Back to the lab, where she would have more experiments done. More poking and prodding. Taser burns if she did so much as struggle. She’d already had plenty of them over the years; she had the scars all over her body to prove it. The needle marks. The burns. The bruises from the guards grabbing her by the arms and forcing her into the chair in the experimental room.

This was her. Test Subject Number Twenty. Another recruit brought to the International Weapons and Warfare Agency to be trained as a superhuman fighter against a force that no one bothered to tell her about. All they said was that “something big was coming.” Something powerful, where the agency needed all the strength it could muster to fight it. Children taken from their parents at a young age, brought here to learn how to become weapons of war. Children with supernatural abilities, studied like flies under a microscope and used as pawns for their powers. They had found nineteen kids. She was the twentieth. The newest one. The youngest out of all of them.

She was twenty-six now. Two decades. Two decades had passed since she was brought to the island of St. Lucia and placed under the watch of the IWWA agents. Two decades of not seeing the sun. The last memory she had of her mother was when she had fought to get her back. She’d risked her life entering the halls of the facility to find her daughter and bring her home. She fought tooth and nail for her. The guards had grabbed her and dragged her away, screaming her daughter’s name. She’d fought like the devil, and failed. The agents shut the doors on her and banned her from ever coming back. Twenty had not seen her mother in twenty years.

Her memories before IWWA were fuzzy, but she definitely remembered her family. The last time she spent with her mother was when she was five, a year before the men came and took her away. Her mother knew for a long time that her daughter was special. She’d been gifted with telekinesis and telepathy, and her hair always changed colors to match her emotions. Very few children in the world were born with such abilities, yet somehow, IWWA knew where they were all located. They’d traced all twenty of them from all corners of the world, and their scouts had gone out and retrieved each one. All of them were currently residing at the research facility. The agents had wanted special children, ones they could exploit and train as weapons using their gifts. By this point in time, the twenty children, now grown adults, had trained for so long that they had practically mastered their powers, making them ten times stronger than the average human.

The thoughts of the past faded from Twenty’s mind as she turned a corner, down another hallway. The guards had not seen her yet. She knew the exit was in sight. Just a few more turns and she would be free. Free of the imprisonment and the torture and the grueling training. After two decades in a place like this, one starts to go crazy. She wanted out. She was long overdue for escape.

She kept running, careful not to slip. The floors had been recently polished, so they tended to be slippery. From off to her left, she heard voices. Two night shift guards were talking in low voices. She quickly darted into a shadowy area and waited until she was sure they were gone.

She was almost there. She had to be. She felt it. The hall seemed to stretch forever. The exit had to be close. If she could just keep going, she’d make it.

There! A large metal door sat at the end of the third hall. She knew that there was an escape route somewhere! As she drew nearer, quietly, she focused hard on the latch holding the door closed. With barely any effort, it slowly lifted upwards, opening the door with a slight creak. Cold outdoor air filtered in, a dark sky with raindrops showing the first sign of the outside world. Twenty glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one followed her, and very quickly slipped through the crack. She was wearing nothing but the flimsy hospital gown she’d been forced to wear for her experimental sessions, and she immediately felt the cold, wet air on her bare skin. She shivered, but nothing felt more thrilling than being outside. She immediately began running again, away from the facility, away from the guards and the awful head scientist that had performed all the tests on her from the beginning. When she turned to look back at the door, it creaked shut behind her. She had escaped.

She didn’t know how long she’d been running. Before she knew it, the rain had increased and had soaked through her gown. Her hair was completely damp and dripping down her back. The facility was nowhere to be seen. She felt like it was miles away by now. All around her it was dark. The rainclouds covered the moon. She didn’t know which direction she was running. Direction didn't matter. Anywhere far away from the IWWA Research Facility was better than anything. She’d been running in a straight line the entire time. She didn't know where she was. The island was unfamiliar. When she noticed a faint glow in the distance, she felt new strength and headed towards it.

The glow belonged to a lamp set on top of a small white fence surrounding an outdoor eating area. There were tables set out with umbrellas over them to keep them dry. The pouring rain looked like falling flecks of gold under the orangey glow. There were more lamps set around the fence. It looked as if they were there to provide a light source for nighttime diners. Across from the outdoor circle was a small building, and there were lights on in the windows.

This is a restaurant, Twenty thought. It has to be. I remember my mom taking me to one on my fifth birthday. That had been the last birthday she’d ever celebrated in the outside world. The setting had a welcoming vibe, and for a moment, Twenty forgot everything she’d dealt with at IWWA and instead felt a warmth seeping into her cold body. For the first time that evening, she felt safe. She stood under the glowing lamp and slowly moved closer to the outdoor eatery. She felt drawn to it, almost as if she was meant to be there.

The door to the building opened. There was movement. A figure wearing a hooded jacket stepped out on to the patio. Judging by the form, Twenty knew it was a man. He didn't see her at first. He was looking straight ahead as he walked out to the tables and began checking the umbrellas. He seemed to be checking everything, from the tables themselves to the chairs.

He’s probably preparing for tomorrow’s customers, Twenty thought. It looks like it’s after closing time out here. I don’t see any people.

She crept a bit closer, intrigued by the stranger and his movements. The only men she’d seen over the past twenty years were the guards and the head scientist at IWWA. They’d given off vibes of cold-hearted danger and drive, but this man gave off nothing but warmth and comfort. She didn’t know for sure, but she sensed something different about him.

Just at that moment, as he moved to check one of the umbrellas closer to the entrance, his eyes locked on to hers. She stepped back, startled, taken off guard by the sudden motion, and he appeared just as shocked. A soaking wet young woman wearing a hospital gown clinging to her every curve, standing under a lamp in front of his restaurant? That was not something anyone saw every day. His hand twitched at the umbrella’s base, but his gaze did not leave hers. They stood across from each other, neither one daring to move, starting at one another as if transfixed. The man was getting plenty soaked by this point as well, but he made no move to take shelter. The only sound was the pelting rain, and for the longest time, neither of them spoke. Until finally...

“Er, hello.”

The man’s voice was soft and gentle. It took Twenty a few minutes to realize that he was speaking to her.

“What are you doing out here? Are you lost?”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t want to flat-out say that she was an escaped lab rat from a hidden government facility. In any case, she couldn't find her voice at all. She simply shook her head.

“No, you’re not lost?” The man tried to make sense of her actions. “Why are you out here all alone in a hospital gown? Do you need me to call someone?”

Again she shook her head. The man stepped away from the patio and slowly approached her. Scared, she drew back.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I won’t hurt you. I just want to make sense of what’s going on here. What happened? Why are you wearing that outfit? It’s pouring rain out here.”

Twenty gazed upwards at the sky. The rain fell on to her face and trickled down her cheeks. She stayed like that for a moment before lowering her gaze back on to him.

“What are you doing out here?” the man asked. “Where did you come from?”

She pointed to somewhere behind her, the direction she was sure the facility was in.

“Out there?” He frowned. She nodded. Silence. Then, he sighed.

“Okay,” he said. “Come inside. I'm not going to let you freeze out here. It’s like thirty degrees. Come on. I'll get you dried off and find you some fresh clothes. How’s that?”

She nodded slowly. He carefully made some minor adjustments to the umbrella he’d been handling and held out his arm to her, wrapping it gently around her shoulders.

“Holy hell, you’re freezing!” he remarked, feeling her shivering under his touch. “How long were you out here?”

He quickly opened the door to the restaurant and led her inside, closing it behind them. Water dripped from her gown on to the mat inside the door as she stood watching him while he moved into the room.

“So this is the kitchen,” he told her as he took his wet jacket off. “My family owns this restaurant. They’re not here at the moment, but they’ll be back in the morning. I'm visiting for the time being. I don’t get a lot of time here since my schedule is super demanding, but at least I get some decent vacation days. I have to be back at the next episode shoot in a week.”

She looked confused, but curious. He must’ve noticed because he immediately elaborated.

“It’s for my show,” he explained. “Taste of the World. I'm Everett Flynt. I actually grew up here, on St. Lucia. That’s why I’m helping out at my family’s restaurant right now. This is one of the rare times I get to see them. So what’s your name?”

Her name. She had fuzzy memories of her birth name. The only name she knew was the one the IWWA agents had marked and labeled her as.

She held her right arm out to him. There, on the inside of her wrist, inked into the flesh, we're three numbers: 020. Test Subject Number Twenty. The latest superhuman recruit.

“Twenty?” Everett’s brow furrowed. “That’s your name?”

He took her wrist gently in his hand and peered at the number as if it were foreign to him.

She ran her fingers along it in response, nervous. How was she going to tell him the reason behind that brand? All the recruits at the facility had numbers tattooed into their wrists. Branded, in the order they were found.

“O...kay.” Everett shook his head in wonder and confusion. “Your name’s Twenty. Why would you have a number for a name? What happened to you?”

Twenty placed her branded arm against her chest, covering the mark. She knew she had to say something. She had to tell him where she’d been and who she was. What she was. He’d taken her in and sheltered her from the rain. She felt safe with him.

“You know what?” He spoke again. “How about if I call you T? Like, for Twenty? I don’t think your actual name is gonna fly with my crew on set. I want to introduce you properly. Is it okay if I call you T?”

She nodded.

“Great. So T, what’s the story? What were you doing out there in the pouring rain? Why do you have a hospital gown on? Were you injured?” Everett flew through the questions before he realized what he was doing and stopped himself. “Sorry. I'm not trying to overwhelm you. I'm just curious, and also a bit worried about you. Did someone hurt you?”

Twenty nodded again. This man, this stranger, who knew next to nothing about her, seemed genuinely concerned about her. She hadn’t had anyone feel any type of concern for her since her mother. No one at IWWA was capable of showing any type of emotion, let alone worry. The truth was: she had seen Everett Flynt on the television in the rec room at the facility during break period, but seeing him now, in the flesh, standing before her, was too overwhelming. She couldn't get any words out. The best she could manage was to show him.

#choices stories you play #slow burn #pixelberry #choices game #play choices #choices fanfiction #everett x mc

0 notes

robotchooses · 2 years

Photo

#sb #sb mc #everett #everett x mc

0 notes

boxofbonesfic · 9 months

Note

Drabble idea: your next door neighbour is reclusive and you rarely see him but you do notice the strange noises you hear during the full moon and the women who enter his apartment and don't come out.

(Werewolf! Curtis Everett)

Title: Moonsign

Pairing: Werewolf!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: You pick the wrong night to return your neighbor’s mis-delivered mail.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Violence, Monsterfucking-adjacent, Violence, Werewolf AU

A/N: so i fell in love with this prompt—

You pause, your fist half a centimeter from the door as a sharp howl splits the air. Maybe he has a dog. You’ve never actually seen your reclusive neighbor out with one around the block, but working nights has left you decidedly out of the loop on neighborhood events. The block’s been a ghost town lately anyway, what with over half the buildings covered in red and yellow tape signaling that they would soon be torn down or repurposed into housing neither you nor your roommates would be able to afford.

The pile in your hands consists of fifteen letters plus a small package you’d opened by mistake—a dried bundle of beautiful purple flowers you’d had to look at the card inside to identify as decorative monkshood. Behind the house, the sun is setting bright orange and red, casting the dreary porch in shadow. I’m overthinking this.

You knock.

The door creaks open, and you stand, stunned in the doorway with your arm still raised as you stare into the dim hallway beyond.

“H-hello?” You croak, your throat suddenly tight. You drop your arm. “Mr. Everett?” There’s no response, at least not one you can hear from the porch. The sound of cicadas grows in your ears as you shift nervously from foot to foot. I’ll just.. leave it inside. On a table or something.

“I’m, um, I’m coming in,” you follow the statement with a timid step across the threshold. “I’ve just um, I’ve got some mail of yours, I think it was delivered by mistake.” The rug muffles the sound of your footsteps as you shuffle toward the warm yellow light at the end of the hall. It’s a kitchen—and it’s empty.

You set the mail down on the small table. “Sorry I opened one by mistake,” you call, before shaking your head. “What am I doing,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “There’s nobody even home.” That’s fine, all the better. You don’t want to have to face your neighbor after opening his mail. As you turn to head back outside, your foot catches against the leg of a chair pulled back from the table. You stumble, letting out a loud curse.

“Goddammit—” It’s only just out of your lips before you freeze, your stomach tightening. Your cry of pain seems mirrored somehow, like an echo—

Like you’re not alone in this house.

You go to speak, but find your mouth dry, and throat tight as you cup your hands around your mouth.

“Hello?” It comes out as a croak. “I’m sorry for intruding, the door was open and—” You tremble as the answering animal bellow cuts your nervous excuse in half, the unsaid words hanging unspoken in the air in front of your trembling mouth.

Is he hurt or something?

“Mr. Everett?”

For a moment, the house is so silent you can hear the traffic outside, and then the same agonized wail reverberates up through the floorboards, setting your heart racing. You clamp a hand over your mouth to silence the terrified whimper that threatens to escape. It sounds again and again until you realize it isn’t just an anguished, pained yell— someone is speaking to you.

“—lp me,” the words are barely discernible, like the one speaking them can barely manage. “Help me…”

There is another door in the kitchen, one that doesn’t lead back out into the rest of the small house. It, like the front door, opens easily with little effort. The heavy door swings open on silent hinges, exposing a set of dimly lit cement stairs winding down into the dark basement.

“Mr. Everett are you—are you down here?” Your reluctant voice takes a long time to bounce back to your ears. “Do-do you need me to call someone? Did you fall?”

“It… hurts…”

You aren’t sure why the thought of going down those stairs fills you with a primordial sense of dread, like your body is painfully aware of something your waking mind isn’t. You hesitate, but then another anguished wail accompanied by a sick sounding crack spurs you into action. He was hurt down there, and your waffling wasn’t helping.

You shine your phone light on the stairs as you descend, each step dragging icy fingers slowly down your spine. You swallow thickly as you reach the bottom, cool sweat prickling at your temples. The bare bulb hanging by the landing gives off comically little light, forcing you to squint, your brows furrowed as you stare into the gloom. The house upstairs, like most of the buildings on the block, was an old construction, built some time in the sixties or seventies—but this concrete was new.

And the basement… it’s bigger than you’d thought possible, the walls invisible to you either by darkness or design. The air down here is still and heavy, and you cannot will yourself to break the pregnant silence. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

A sickening crack shatters the quiet, and the pained noise that follows is louder and closer than ever before. You squeak with fear, before covering your mouth with your hands. It stinks down here, you realize, a tart, copper scent that you finally recognize as a mix of sweat and blood.

“You…came.” The words sound pleased, despite the speaker’s obvious pain. And that voice… You squeeze your arms around yourself, taking a step back towards the landing. It was like an animal growling words. It doesn’t even sound human.

Your heel bumps the concrete as you begin to back away.

“M-Mr. Everett, I’m going to g-g-go call someone f-for you—”

“I wai-ted for yo-ou,” the voice rasps, continuing on as if you haven’t spoken at all. “Call-ed fo-r yo-ou.” Something shifts in the dark—something big. There is a heavy grunt, and then the sound of metal dragging against the concrete. A whimper worms its way past your lips as slowly, the weak glow of the swaying bulb above your head reflects off of two pale blue eyes, glinting in the dark. The thing stops moving, the dragging sound suddenly ceasing.

“He thi-nks this will sto-op me,” the sound of the chain striking concrete is like the thunder outside, the spark briefly illuminating—something. You can’t comprehend it—huge and hulking, dark fur—“There is no ca-ge for me that he can bui-ld that I cannot destro-oy.”

There is a sound like metal crunching and then your legs are moving before you tell them to, scrambling up the stairs on your hands and feet like an animal as a rasping sound like laughter follows at your heels.

You’re barely through the door when you hear it on the stairs, something big coming up behind you—you bolt towards the front door, a scream erupting from your throat. You grab the door handle—

As claws tear through your overalls, splitting the skin underneath like hot knives. You fall forward with a cry against the door. It knocks the wind out of you, and you fall to your knees, your eyes blurry with tears. It’s like a wolf, you realize as it looms over you—but like a man, too, standing on thickly furred legs with an unnatural, canine bend.

Pale blue eyes sit above its dark muzzle, and they sparkle with dark amusement. You open your mouth to scream again and it lunges, burying sharp white teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You can taste your own blood, smell it in the air around you as you gurgle. Your blood gleams on its muzzle when it pulls away, dripping down onto your face as it hums.

“He will have to keep you now.” Terrified tears track down your cheeks as the bite mark on your shoulder begins to burn. “Like he wants to.”

End

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #cevans fandom #cevans fic #curtis everett #curtis everett imagine #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x y/n #werewolf au #werewolf curtis everett #werewolf!curtis #darkfic #dark mc #boxofbonesfic #boxofbones drabbles #bones drabbles

315 notes · View notes

kleinundscharf · 1 year

Text

Kabedon meme!

Boys x MCs

And last one is Clopton x Imelda

Imelda, I am sorry once again

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #hphl #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy player character #hphl fanart #ominis #ominis gaunt fanart #sebastian sallow #imelda reyes #garreth weasley fanart #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x mc #sebastian sallow fanart #everett clopton #hogwarts legacy meme #sebastian sallow x mc #oc: suvi kim

522 notes · View notes

ror-roleplay · 3 months

Text

Read the Daily Prophet in The Room of Requirement

66 notes · View notes

seedsinmygarden · 8 months

Text

HLC REACT: Watching MC Marry Someone Else

I think this was my very first one of Scarlet's that I did! It was a lot of fun, and I think it was meant to be sadder than it was, but I liked to think that most of them would be happy that MC found happiness.

Word Count: 1,622 words

Tags and Warnings: Some angst, mostly nice and fluffy (though platonic).

OMINIS GAUNT: He stood by Sebastian as he watched MC walk down the aisle in their gorgeous attire. He wished he was the one standing in Sebastian’s place, he wished he was the one speaking vows to MC, he wished he was the one wearing the grooms’ robes… but he had a smile on his face regardless because while he wished it was him, he was still ecstatic that his best friend had found happiness after such a tumultuous era in Hogwarts. He always knew that MC would never want to marry a Gaunt— truly, who would? It would only lead them to a future of pain. At least as a Sallow, they would have freedom.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He had less grace than Ominis did and when he watched MC walk up the aisle to Amit Thakkar. He had no clue why they had invited him, truly— MC and Sebastian’s relationship was strained after their time in Hogwarts. Perhaps they only invited him because Anne was in the wedding party? It didn’t matter— what mattered is that he wasn’t the one up there, holding MC’s hands as they spoke their vows softly to each other. As soon as the ceremony ended, Sebastian extended his wishes to the couple through Anne and left early, using the excuse of ‘work emergency’ to get out. Thank Merlin he was an Auror, because then it was actually a valid excuse…

AMIT THAKKAR: MC’s wedding with Garreth is absolutely lovely! It’s so quaint and cute and cozy and MERLIN he wished he could have taken some inspiration for his own wedding with Samantha Dale-Thakkar UGHHHHH. He laughs to himself a bit as he watches the lovely couple dance their first dance at the reception, remembering the schoolboy crush he had on MC back during their time in Hogwarts, and the one utterly disastrous date they had gone on before agreeing they were better off as friends. He was glad that he and MC were able to move on (in fact, it was MC who helped him get a date with Samantha in their seventh year!), but he would always find himself wondering what-ifs. Regardless, he was happy, MC was happy, and that’s all he could have ever asked for.

GARRETH WEASLEY: MC had asked Garreth to officiate their wedding with Imelda Reyes, and he had eagerly accepted. How he had the certification to do so? No one knows, not even Garreth himself, he knows he just woke up with it in his pocket after a night at the bar with the boys. After checking that it wasn’t just a false certification and seeing that there was a fee to reverse it, Garreth kept it and it made to be a great joke around town— if you get married by a Weasley, that means a lot of kids are to come in the future! Either way, here he stood, in front of MC and Imelda as they had linked hands and looked at him, ready to begin the ceremony. He grins and with a glance to his own husband, he takes a breath and sets off to marry his sixth-year crush to the love of their life. He didn’t mind it, really, he had moved on a long time ago and found love with a particular blond Slytherin.

NATSAI ONAI: Natty was in the wedding party as MC gets married to the lovely Adelaide Oakes. Natty and Addy had grown closer to the point that Addy had asked Natty to be one of her bridesmaids in the wedding when MC proposed. MC was excited, happy that Addy had grown to love all their friends just as much as they did to the point that she wanted to have some of them in the wedding party. Natty was excited as well, but when she went to bed that night, she had wondered if this was the right thing to do. She never wished their separation— she had lost her chance and accepted that fact a long time ago. She just could never get over MC. In time, she will. She knows that much. And so the wedding went on, with Natty smiling brightly as she watches Addy and MC share their first kiss as married partners.

POPPY SWEETING: Watching MC get married to Anne Sallow was certainly something she wasn’t expecting, especially seeing as Anne wasn’t even there during their fifth year. Yet they had met, through Sebastian, and, well… here they were, standing in front of each other at a makeshift altar in the fields near Hogsmeade. It was a beautiful summer wedding, a nice cool breeze passing through every so often. Poppy was partially working that wedding, but she had some assistance to be able to fully enjoy it— Eleazar (the Phoenix!) was going to fly their rings down the aisle, there was a little petting zoo of all the less-harmful animals in one corner, and then last but not least, Highwing would be flying the two away back to Feldcroft, where they would enjoy their first night together as a wedded couple after the dinner and reception. Poppy could almost imagine herself in Anne’s place— truthfully, she wished she was, but she had lost her chance long ago. Now, she was going to be happy that MC had found happiness.

IMELDA REYES: EVERETT. FUCKING. CLOPTON. First of all, HOW. Second of all, WHY? Third of all, MC, blink twice if you’re being held hostage and forced to marry him against your will. In all seriousness, though, Imelda could see how MC grew attracted to the guy in the first place. He may have still had his squeaky voice and not great hygiene when they first met in fifth year, but his voice had grown deeper and he finally cleaned up his routine by the time they graduated Hogwarts. Really, who WASN’T chasing Everett? He even cleaned up so well for his wedding that Imelda was almost jealous of MC! The feeling of a hand slipping into hers distracts her from the train of thought she was one and she looks over to her own wife, the former Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain and her partner-in-crime on the Hollyhead Harpies. Imelda fell in love with MC wayyy back in fifth year, but then she had also properly met the woman that would become her wife and, well, one thing led to another… Regardless, Imelda was happy for MC and her crush on them had long since diminished, long before her own wedding. EVERETT THOUGH??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN—

ANNE SALLOW: Watching MC marry Natty was much more painful than Anne had anticipated it being. She genuinely did believe that she had a chance with them, but that could have been the ‘rescue romance’ talking. Ever since MC had saved her life from the curse that had plagued her, the curse that had stolen an entire year at Hogwarts from her, she felt indebted to them in more ways than one. It wasn’t healthy to romanticize it, she knew that, but she couldn’t help herself— there were so many other things that furthered the connection she felt. And then her heart broke the day that it had gotten around school that MC was dating Natty. That they were the ‘it’ couple, that they were going to get married and have beautiful babies— why was that a topic of conversation, Anne will never know. Then, five years after that day, they got married. Anne was there in the audience, watching Sebastian as he stood by MC’s side with a proud grin and she matches his pride for MC with a smile of her own. She can mourn this loss, yes, but then she will move along. Perhaps she can see if Amit would like a dance…

EVERETT CLOPTON: Everett kind of expected it. He knows he was an ass with poor hygiene throughout school, there was no way that MC would have ever wanted to be with him. At least romantically— they were kind enough to be friends with him, which he was still so eternally grateful for. It’s how he landed an invite to their wedding, a witness to their marriage to Poppy Sweeting. Everett couldn’t deny, the wedding itself was beautiful and there was the promise of a little petting zoo at the reception, with a phoenix even! There had been times where he wished he was the one standing up there instead of Poppy, but he pushed those thoughts down. He should be happy for MC finding happiness, even if that happiness doesn’t quite lie with him.

LEANDER PREWETT: Like Everett, Leander expected it. He was also an ass but at least he had better hygiene than the Ravenclaw Quidditch-pro wannabe. But he was more of an ass than Everett, even if he didn’t actually mean it half the time, tormenting first-years was his primary form of entertainment. Regardless, he was still MC’s friend, and attended the wedding ceremony where they would get married to the loveliest Samantha Dale. How could he ever compete with the plant-loving beauty of Ravenclaw? Even he held a small liking for her at one point— who wouldn’t— and MC was lucky to have her hand in marriage. Leander wasn’t close enough to the couple to be standing up there with them, but he was invited to the ceremony and the dinner that would follow, and he happily went, eager to see some old friends as well. Unlike Everett, however, Leander had already come to terms with it— that MC had found happiness, and that it wasn’t with him. All too common in his lifetime, but hey, he had a great plus one partner in one of Sam’s friends from Hufflepuff, Leonora Everleigh.

65 notes · View notes

imagrindylow · 1 month

Text

A Partner in Crime

Everett Clopton & gn!Reader (Platonic) 1.7k Words Content Warnings: None; Just mischief and friends being silly. Summary: Everett enlists your help for a prank on some of your housemates.

~~~~~

You could tell by the look on Everett’s face that he was up to something when he approached you in the Ravenclaw common room one evening, as he returned from an outing to Hogsmeade. A small paper bag printed with the Zonko’s logo was rolled closed and clenched in his fist, his dark eyes had a mischievous glint to them as he took a seat beside you on one of the plush blue settees that sat against the tall windows of the room's sitting area.

“What’ve you got there?” You asked him, a grin on your face as he joined you.

“I’ll show you, on one condition!” Everett tempted, his excitement to show you what he’d purchased just barely contained.

You huffed out a chuckle, biting your lip and shaking your head with amusement at his enthusiasm. “And what would that condition be?”

“Well, if the rumors are true, I hear you’re quite skilled with the disillusionment charm, and rather stealthy, too. I could use your help with a little prank I have in mind for some of our house mates.” Everett said, sounding quite confident you’d agree, already rolling the bag open before you’d even answered him.

You couldn’t deny that what he’d heard about you was true. News of you sneaking into the restricted section and breaking into the basement of Honeydukes back in fifth year traveled quickly around the castle, and anymore, you were a go to person for help with various tasks. Those tasks were rarely pranks, but you also couldn’t deny that you were quite interested in helping him. If you aided Everett in his pranking, you’d be spared from being on the receiving end of said prank… And Everett was pretty notorious for his mischief.

“What kind of prank?” You asked him, your curiosity piqued.

“Oh don’t worry, just a bit of harmless fun involving a new product I found at Zonko’s. And you know they don’t sell anything actually dangerous.” He assured, now tilting the open bag towards you. “We won’t get into trouble, promise.”

You gave him a playful side eye, before nodding. “Alright, I’m in.” You said, his assurance that it would be harmless being enough to convince you.

You peeked into the bag, which looked at first glance to contain a handful of unwrapped green lollies… But then you realized that rather than sticks, it was wicks protruding from each small green ball…

“Smoke bombs?” You asked him, very curious now for Everett to explain this little plan further.

“Not just any smoke bombs.” He said excitedly, giddy chuckles almost keeping him from offering up the details. “Anyone who inhales the smoke will be jinxed with a super high pitched voice for a whole hour!”

In that instant, your grin went as wide as his, laughing alongside him as you envisioned how much fun the two of you could have with these smoke bombs. You were very well aware that Everett was the butt of many jokes about the sound of his voice, and no matter who the target of his little prank was, it was sure to exact some revenge.

“Oh, I love it! How perfect.” You said, smirking while your mind played out different scenarios. “Who are you going to use it on?”

“You’ll see.” He said, a devilish smirk on his face, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Meet me outside the Quidditch pitch before the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin game later this week and I’ll tell you all of the details.”

You groaned at having to wait another few days before finding out exactly what you’d agreed to be a part of, but you were in this now, and so, you nodded. “I’ll be there,” you promised.

~~~

The next couple of days passed slowly, but the evening of the match finally came. As you walked along with much of the rest of the school out to the quidditch pitch, you saw that Everett was waiting for you, leaning against the exterior of the arched stone entrance of the field. You headed to him, and he took your elbow, pulling you away from the crowd and out of earshot of the other students who were entering to spectate the game.

“Good, you’re here.” Everett said. “I was worried you would change your mind.”

“Definitely not. Now, what are we doing?” You ask quietly as he led you through a curtain and down a narrow corridor off the main entrance of the pitch, and into a small storage room where the two of you could scheme privately.

“You’re going to show me how to cast disillusionment, and then we are going to launch the smoke bombs into the changing room while the captain is giving their little pep talk to the rest of the team.” Everett explained.

Sounded simple enough. You snickered a bit, picturing the capitan trying to call the shots whilst sounding like they’d inhaled helium. “Easy, yeah, it’s a simple enough charm. I’m honestly surprised you don’t already know it.” You said with a chuckle, then hummed in thought. “But… Why the quidditch team?”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “The captain and the rest of the team were mocking me during tryouts!” He said, with all of the ire of someone who’d suffered a great injustice. “My flying has improved so much and they barely even gave me a chance.”

You nodded, remembering the lecturing you’d been present for regarding Everett’s lack of respect regarding the school’s brooms back during your first flying class in fifth year. Your little flying tour was quite fun and had been the first of many for the pair of you, and you knew that at least now he took flying quite seriously.

But that was neither here nor there. What’s done was done and now it was time for you to help your mischievous friend seek some vengeance, or at the very least, have a good laugh at the haughty quidditch captain and the team members who hadn't taken Everett’s tryouts seriously.

You demonstrated the wand movements necessary for executing the disillusionment charm, and Everett picked upon them instantly, copying them and casting the charm over himself successfully on his first go.

Practically invisible, Everett cracked the store room door open and checked the length of the corridor, making sure the coast was clear for the pair of you to proceed down the hall to the changing rooms. He gave you a nod, and you followed him out of the room, the voices of the quidditch team members getting louder as the two of you approached the changing room.

Finally outside of the room, Everett handed you one of the smoke bombs, and you gripped it with anxious fingers, nerves rising in your stomach now that it was finally time to act on his little plan.

“You ready?” Everett whispered.

“Yep.” It was too late to turn back now. Or at least, that's what you were telling yourself.

Though the charm hindered your ability to see what he was doing, you could hear the rustle of the Zonko’s bag as Everett pulled out a second smoke bomb for himself to throw, then stuffed the bag back into the pocket of his robes.

“Wand ready?” He whispered.

“Mhm.” You hummed and nodded, your other hand tightening on its handle.

Everett counted down from three and the two of you lit the wicks of the smoke bombs in tandem. The rest was a blur, quietly opening the changing room door and lobbing the smoke bombs in, before feeling the slap of the stone floors below your feet as you bolted down the corridor and back towards the main entrance of the pitch.

You could hear high pitched shouts from your housemates on the quidditch team and their squeaky expletives echoing through the hall behind you both as you ran, not stopping or looking back despite their whiny sounding pleas and cries of confusion, as their pre game pep talk was so suddenly interrupted.

Soon, quick footfalls belonging to who you presumed was the quidditch captain, (though it was difficult to tell from the squirrely voice as it squeaked for you to stop running) were chasing the two of you down the hall, but you and Everett kept running until you were back on the other side of the curtain in the entrance of the pitch. Neither of you countered your disillusionment charms until you were both quite sure that whoever was following you out of the corridor wouldn’t know who’d have been responsible for the prank, the bustle of students arriving to watch the game providing excellent cover for you both to mingle into.

Laughing together as you climbed the stairs to the Ravenclaw section of the pitch, out of breath from both running and your case of the giggles, you nudged Everett in the side, sharing a light hearted and knowing look with your friend.

“Did you hear them? They sounded like mice!” He exclaimed, pulling his glasses off and wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

You could only nod along, clutching your chest, your breath heaving with your laughter. “I’ve heard…” You managed to utter between croaks of laughter, “I’ve heard cats mewl with more resonance.”

Everett grinned at you and was practically bursting with laughter at your comment as the two of you continued climbing the stairs.

Finding seats together, your laughter only grew as the game commenced, hearing the shrill shouts of the Ravenclaw team members as they called and commented to each other and made quips to the opposing team. The sharp sound of their voices seemingly carrying over the low roars of the crowd in a stand out way.

“Thank you for your help with that.” He said when he’d calmed down enough to get the words out without laughing.

“Of course! We made quite the team, actually.” You said, giving him a nod and feeling quite smug that the pair of you were able to carry out such a prank without getting caught. It had gone off flawlessly.

“We were.” He agreed. “I’ll remember this. I owe you one, in the future.”

You liked the sound of that, a grin spreading on your face knowing that you’d have a partner in crime when you’d surely need one in the future.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #everett clopton #everett clopton x mc #everett clopton x reader #everett clopton x you #gn!reader

21 notes · View notes

chipkoy · 10 months

Text

they mean the world to me💚

#the arcana #the arcana oc #muriel x mc #muriel x bryn #muriel #muriel the mountain man #muriel the hermit #muriel the arcana #muriel of the kokhuri #bryn #bryn everett #digital art #my art

58 notes · View notes

mysteli · 9 months

Text

THE ANDROMEDA BOOKS

Here's the first story introductions for my complete rewrite of Endless Summer. I've included very rough visualizations of what I would want the covers to look like, more to establish a tone for each book though. Let me know what kind of scenes you'd be interested in me posting. I won't be posting anything that ruins any of the twists though - more to show the change in the characters and the setting.

THE STORY CONCEPT

This rewrite is an exploration into the first timeline. Before Lo became The Endless and the timeline where all of the group presumably died. But what if that wasn't the full story? What if the origin story was more different than anyone ever really imagined? What change had come to the island throughout 1000 timelines? What happened in the five years Lo was in that pod and even more curiously, what happened after? Were the relationships between every character always the same? All these questions will be answered in this book.

BOOK 1 SYNOPSIS

A last hurrah on the mysterious island of La Huerta for a group of 12 young souls swiftly becomes odd when they arrive and everyone is gone. While some seek to know more, others still want to experience this once in a lifetime opportunity. Conflicting perspectives and an island trapped in multiple stages of time. There may be other unknown forces at play. Meanwhile, Lo is having disturbing visions about elements of the island, the people around her and a constellation that could be her saving grace or her downfall. After an unexpected death rocks their defenses, they will all have no choice but to seek out the truth, while watching out for the shadow of the powerful owner with a plan, Everett Rourke. The real question is, will they be able to trust each other?

Some of the book's elements - Takes place before the five year time jump. The island is plagued by new mythological/technological creatures, as well as familiar ones. Main romance is Jake and Lo so Quinn, Estela and Sean will not be treated as love interests because I literally hate love triangles and would rather write one romance as the focus and explore other side romances and see what I can do with them. More backstory and main plot links for all characters. New lore for Lo (so she's not an alien). New island lore also. Unexpected dynamics and duos; for example, Estela and Michelle. Beware - character deaths.

BOOK 2 SYNOPSIS

As Lo wakes up from five years of being frozen in a pod, she has no memory of where or who she is. The first face she sees is one she recognizes but cannot remember. A man who saved her from her slumber. After escaping Rourke's facility, she's greeted by an island that had succumb to ruin. Her mind is taking her back to the events of the last five years, as she tries to find the people her former self gave everything for. What happened to them and who was still out there, in a world so close to its end?

Some of the book's elements - you get none... yet.

CONCLUSION

Hope these are good introductions to what I have planned. I have a character specific one coming soon but I wanted to outline the concept of the stories before I did anything else. Please feel free to provide any feedback you have. I love knowing how I can make it better <3

20 notes · View notes