Mac Tonight Memes Novels & Stories

No such luck. “Oh look. It's little Bronwen James.” A voice drawls behind me, bursting my little fantasy bubble of having a good day. Not freaking likely. “Little? Yeah right." I hear a derisive scoff. "Look at the fat ass. There is nothing little about the cow.” Maci says with a sneer. She and her friends cackle, reminding me of the witches in those old cheesy movies. It has a definite 'he-he-he' quality to it that is about as kind to the ears as nails on a chalkboard.

“Is it? You told me that you had everything under control once before. And do you know who was not at the Hunt? The one that we hosted. I’m surprised we’re not still the laughingstock of the world.” The meme that had circulated around the were-community social media popped into Sirius’ mind. A picture of the Maidens walking through the woods with the caption Camouflage so good the Alpha’s daughter cannot be found. It and several others ran the typical course of any scandal and then died off with the next one. They had popped up a few more times over the past year and each time Malachi burst into his office threatening to take his position back.

Cassandre The shrill ringing of my phone pulls me from sleep like a slap. It’s still dark in the room, but the phone screen radiates like a nuclear alarm. I grunt, pull the blanket over my eyes, then, annoyed, sit up halfway to grab the phone. A flurry of notifications. Missed calls. Mentions. Group messages. Links. Screenshots. And that headline at the top of the homepage, framed in red like a terrorist alert: “ALEXANDRE LACROIX AND DANIEL ROZOV: A LOVERS' CLASH IN FRONT OF A PRIVATE RESTAURANT”

Mack watches us as we sip it, his lips curving up as our eyes meet. “You put the banana in the fruit salad, then,” he says. Elizabeth blinks. “What?” “The horizontal tango? Parallel parking? Riding St. George? Opening the Gates of Mordor?” That makes me laugh, but Elizabeth still looks baffled. “Are you speaking English?” “Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo?” Mack suggests. “Mack!” Sidnie looks mortified. “I’m so sorry,” she says to Elizabeth. “He’s not worked for two days and his ADHD has gone into overdrive.”

"And you are like an annoying daughter I can't wait to get rid of." "Unfortunately for you, I'm worse than a leech." "Agreed." "Now where's my Luna?" Mack walked over to me and kissed my cheek. "Oh hi there Miller." He burped and waved at Miller who slightly bowed to him in return. "Good evening Alpha." "Oh calling me that already?" Mack laughed. "Not going to lie, it feels so unreal." I noticed how silly Mack was acting and I sighed. "You are drunk aren't you?" "A bit tipsy but I'm fine." He replied and hiccupped. "Alright then, imma leave you two and go have some fun! Alpha rocks!"

Mac sarcastically: I thought you were the first one who wanted to stay here forever for your bitch the nun, I loved her Damian I loved her and you know very well that she is not good for anything Demian smiles sarcastically: I don't like Mac I'm just having fun, I don't have a heart dear to love I forgot "seriously" let's wake up the captain let's start Mac left him and went to Maxmus, who was sleeping on the seat, and it was clear that he was disturbed by that position. Mac shook him lightly, so he opened his eyes quickly, and they were red. He looked at them, furrowing his eyebrows, to stand quietly, and his eyes turned yellow again.

Her dad was scary but after what I told him, he smiled at me. “you think you were protecting her, did you?” He asked me as he patted me around the shoulder as we descended the stairs. “Remind me again who are you, young man,” he asked me. “I’m Alex, Alexander MacWatters, a friend of Ian,” I said as he looked at me with amusement. “You’re Alexander MacWatters, the scientist that discovered the different water chemistry that can be used to treat malfunction of the nerve systems. You’re him?” He asked me in bewilderment. I laughed at him.

The hashtag #JusticeForTheHelp caught fire. Celebrities started liking posts. Influencers did dramatic readings of the worst ones. T*****r was flooded with memes of a weeping cartoon maid slapping rich brats with unpaid invoices. I*******m flooded with edits of Krystal walking out of the mansion with flames behind her like she was some righteous Cinderella meets John Wick hybrid. Reddit threads. TikTok compilations. Even BuzzFeed did a roundup: “10 Times the McLaren Family Made Us Want to Punch a Rich Kid” Elias lost it.

A meme flashed in the live chat: a screenshot of me mid-fight, captioned “Saint Tara of the Moon – Protectress of Packs, Slayer of Trolls, Destroyer of Comment Sections.” I snorted. “Okay. That one’s getting printed on a t-shirt.” Hours later, the screens were off, and the room was finally quiet. I sat by the window, watching the moon rise over the lake. My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it. Mac joined me, warm and solid, his hand finding mine. “You okay?” he asked. “I think so.” I rubbed my forehead and pinched the bridge of my nose. “How are we supposed to go through with the ceremony this weekend?”

(Background song: Memories by Maroon 5) Here's to the ones that we got Cheers to the wish you were here but you're not 'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories Of everything we've been through Gazing straight ahead, only half-aware of a world outside the claustrophobic comfort of the car, his hands stroking the wheel, the almost soundless changing of the gears, the pattern of traffic lights, it blinks red. Toast to the ones here today