#'humans were never meant to date 1 person' get outta here

[ladyelainehilfur]

hm...ngl, I think a lot of modern popular opinion and trend is pretty degenerative. How is it progress if you're just going backwards?

[headoverheelsforramsey]

Hiiiii! Here are this week's different questions lol

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Hello Hello Bree! My weekly dose of sunshine has arrived! 🤗

Sorry this took so long I am literally neck deep in assignments.

Anyways can I just say that these questions were just brilliant!! Book 1 is so close to our hearts and Ethan MC dynamic back in the day was priceless. 😂

Just a fair warning this contains a lot of pinching noses and rolling eyes because that's what book 1 Ethan used to do all the time. So now let the fun begin! 🤩

The setting for this answers is: Post Chap 15, before the ethics trial.

Ethan : Remind me again why I am doing this?

Meera : Because you are unemployed and have a lot of free time, also because I asked nicely? (with puppy eyes)

Ethan (Rolls eyes)

FOR BOTH

When I first saw them, I thought__________

*Both of them wait for each other to answer*

Ethan : You go first, this was your idea.

Meera : Oh boy. Why do I have the feeling you are going to hate me even more after this?

Ethan : I can't hate you more than I did when I first met you.

Meera (expectantly) : So you are saying the hatred for me has declined since then?

Ethan : Just answer the damn question.

Meera : Okay fine. I thought "why is this person being so rude to me? I am still a kid I am still learning. Such an asshole, gotta keep outta his path."

Ethan (looks at her amused) : I thought "ah shit here we go again. A new bunch of nerve wrecking idiotic interns incoming."

Meera (dramatically opens her mouth and places her hands on her chest) : Ouch! Rude!

Ethan (sly grin)

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Meera : Jesus. Christ. Jesus Christ. He is religious that way. (winks)

Ethan : Very funny Rookie. She on the other hand has an explicit vocabulary in slangs but I think I have heard holy shit, holy cow, holy fuck the most.

Meera (excitedly) : See I am religious too. Also look at us twining in swears.

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Meera (immediately) : Ocean Blue! No, Celestial blue!

Ethan (looks at Meera, surprised)

Meera (suddenly concious) : Blue. Just plain simple blue.

Ethan (thinks for a moment)

Meera (puts a hand over her eyes)

Ethan : What are you doing?

Meera : I won't let you cheat.

Ethan : Cheat? I don't cheat.

Meera : Ofcourse the great Ethan Ramsey doesn't cheat. Then go ahead and ans---

Ethan : Dark brown.

Meera (impressed with him)

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Meera (heaves out a long dramatic sigh) : Ask me whom he doesn't?

Ethan : I tolerate most of them though.

Meera (chuckles) : I think it'll be Dr. Thorne, Dr. Myles and Dr. Hirata. Atleast these are the ones he complains about the most.

Ethan : Hmm. Fair enough. Bose here obviously hates that back stabbing "friend" whose name I'd rather die than learn. And I think Dr. Emery and Dr. Mirani also falls under this list.

Meera : Full point for the first one, but I think Aurora is a good person overall, she has some issues, which we need to work out. And I don't hate Zaid, I just don't like how he is always in a grumpy melancholic mood.

Ethan : Which is very justified of him given that he has to work with the interns the majority of his work hours.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Meera : Easy, pinching the bridge of his nose and rolling his eyes when annoyed, which is all the time by the way.

Ethan : I think adjusting her glasses when it threatens to slip from her nose and forming her lips in a strange way when concentrating.

Bree : I am sorry doctor could you just explain the last part better.

Ethan (rolls his eyes and tries to do his best impression of Meera's pout)

Meera (chuckles) : That's not how it's done, Ethan. This is how it's done (pouts)

Ethan : Yeah same thing.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Ethan : Crush? What are we? Highschool students? I am not answering that. (prepares to leave)

Meera : I think it might be Dr. Emery.

Ethan (stops short on his way out, turns around and takes a seat again) : Really Rookie? Fine you want to know her crush? It's that scalpel jockey, or that paramedic guy she is so friends with or maybe that other Indian intern roomate she has.

Meera : What! No. They are my friends. What made you think that?

Ethan : What made you think Harper is my crush?

Bree : Okay doctors let's move on to the next round.

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

Meera : Nope!

Ethan : Never. We are doctors we might get someone loose their life.

had a fistfight

Meera : Yes.

Ethan (looks at her unbelievingly) : I thought you were the harmless kind.

Meera (smugly) : I am mostly harmless, untill you get on my bad side. What about you?

Ethan : I'll have to say no.

Meera : You punched Nash though.

Ethan : He didn't punch me back, so doesn't count Rookie.

been kicked out of a bar

Meera : Unfortunately yes.

Ethan : Unfortunately yes too.

Meera : What?! The great Ethan Ramsey?

Ethan : Stop calling me that. I am a human afterall and I had some very stupid friends back in med school.

gotten a tattoo

Ethan : No.

Meera : Yes.

Ethan (smirks)

broken someone’s heart

Meera : Not that I know off

Ethan : I am not proud of it but yes.

been in love

Ethan : No.

Meera : Expected. For me it's yes. Maybe it didn't last but I can't say what we had wasn't love.

For Meera (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

He thinks he won't practice medicine anymore because he can't solve Naveen's case but I know he won't be able to resist helping people and ofcourse that is what Naveen always wanted. So, professionally, he is doing wonders. Inspiring thousands of hearts, guiding hundreds of young doctors and saving millions of lives. The diagnostic team has becomes globally recognised. He has written another book or two. Maybe won the Lasker Awards.

Personally, I hope he is happy and not lonely. He needs someone by his side. Someone who can tolerate his sarcasm and critisisim. Someone who will put a smile on his face when he wakes up beside her. Maybe he'll have a family, if that someone is really strong-willed. (let's out a dry laugh)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

His passion for what he does. He just lights up and enrapts the entire room when he speaks about medicine. And I just get lost in the sea of passion in his eyes. Also his stubbornness and unwillingness to give up is really impressive.

Last thing he texted you?

I'll show you wait.

He ordered about half a dozen books on Medical Law and Ethics for me.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

(stays silent for a long time)

I don't think so he will. Like the chances are really really thin but trust me if he does I wouldn't dare say no. (colour rises to her cheeks)

But yes that's in a different world. A world in which we don't live. (sighs wistfully)

For Ethan (Meera is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

If she manages to save her lisence she'll be a wonderful doctor. She'll save innumerable lives and be one of the brightest stars in medicine. I am sure she'll secure a spot on the DT and maybe even lead it someday. She'll make me proud. (smiles genuinely)

Personally I hope she'll be with someone who loves her more than anything and that she is with literally anybody else but that scalpel jockey. She'll have a loving caring partner who'll cook her meals when she comes home from a twelve hour shift. She'll have amazing friends especially the ones she has now. They really love her and they didn't think twice before helping her out with Mrs. Martinez's case.

Maybe she'll have a family. A few kids who will also grow up to show a stunning reflection of their mother.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan : I can't say attractive but I'll say I like her personality. She has a magnetic one that makes sure to turn heads any time she walks into a room. Also I love that she cares so deeply about people and she is willing to go out of her way to put a smile on these people's face. Like for example Mrs. Martinez.

Bree : So is this "like" or "love"?

Ethan : Did I? Did I just say love? I am so sorry I meant like.

Bree : Could you enlist something physically attractive about her?

Ethan : If I have to. I'd say I love, er... like, like her laughter. It literally brightens the entire room. (blushes)

Last thing she texted you?

"Thank you Ethan"

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

(sighs) I would feel lucky to go on a date with her, but right now in this situation? It's too complicated. I can't jeopardize her career, so it's a no form me, despite my actual feelings.

This was so fun! Thank you once again @jamespotterthefirst

Tagging my usual : @starrystarrytrouble @mm2305 @charisworld @choicesfanaf @potionsprefect @genevievemd  @shanzay44 @little-flowers-on-heaven @schnitzelbutterfingers  @coffeeheartaddict @gryffindordaughterofathena @chemist-ana @adiehardfan @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @natureblooms24 @mainstreetreader @izzyourresidentlawyer @a-crepusculo @quixoticdreamer16 @starryeyedrookie @barbean

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. And if you want to sit out only the answers to the ask games hit me up too. There won't be any hard feelings. I promise. 💜

[mordellestories]

The Haunted Couch

A Beetlejuice AU fanfic. Rated M.

Part 1

"Marriage is bullshit," Lydia muttered bitterly while weaving her way through all the junk that was leftover from an estate sale.

"It doesn't have to be," Bertha chimed in with optimism. Her smile fell. "Divorce is definitely bullshit."

"No," Lydia argued, "divorce is more like hippo-shit." 

Bertha barked out a laugh as she checked out a crooked standing lamp. "What?"

Lydia picked up a rusty hose nozzle from the pile of odd trinkets on a table. "Ever see a hippo take a crap?" She nodded sagely. "Sprays shit everywhere. Like throwing a pile of shit at a fan on high." She waved her hands wildly and then pointed the nozzle at her best friend. "It's only aim is to soil everything in the vicinity."

"Shit." Bertha frowned with concern. 

"Hippo-shit." Lydia agreed.

Lydia had become so bitter and rightly so, but she hoped this day out shopping for her new apartment would lift her spirits. Lydia should have known better. If her husband - no, ex-husband - Vincent had not ruined the best years of her life, she wouldn't be in the position she was now; divorced, broke, and living in a moldy apartment that she was pretty sure was being illegally rented out to her.

"I think you need a hobby," Bertha advised. "Oh! Maybe get back into photography!" She held up an old film camera and waved it excitedly in Lydia's direction. Her friend scowled the instant she laid eyes on it. "I know you blame him for quitting your dreams, but you used to love it! And it's never too late to start over or change careers."

Lydia turned away from the offending thing in Bertha's hands. "Change what career? I have no career. Threw my career in the toilet for that," she growled and picked up a samurai sword, "cheating, sack of human garbage!"

Bertha sighed but kept the camera on-hand. "Put the weapon down, and let's just try to find something for your place."

"I should never have signed that prenup," Lydia grumbled as she checked the sword’s sharpness. It was dull. As dull as her pathetic new life was turning out to be.

At least Lydia would leave this place with something, well, she hoped. There was so much stuff laid out everywhere, and she was surprised that the site wasn't overrun with people. The owner of all the junk had been standing on the street corner with a bullhorn, sounding like a bad infomercial. He got a lot of attention, but not the kind he wanted. Lydia thought it was funny, and she was looking to furnish her place. Most things were priced reasonably, but she couldn't afford much. What Lydia really needed was furniture. She'd been eating her meals on the floor for two weeks. The little money that her considerate husband had given her would run out soon if she didn't find a job, and she was still unwilling to take up her father's offer of financial help. 

Financial help being taking up the job that Delia had offered her to be her personal assistant. Lydia would stoop to survive on locusts before she'd ever work for that woman.

After claiming the dining set and kitchen supplies, Bertha and Lydia made their way to the guy in charge. 

When Lydia saw Bertha taking out her wallet, she stopped her. "I'm not letting you pay for my stuff."

"I'm not gonna," Bertha defended. "I'm buying this." She placed the camera on the table next to the cash box.

"That was the top of the line back in the day," the man behind the table said. "Took good care of it too, it's like new. Eighty bucks and you can walk outta here with a vintage that-- "

Lydia raised a suspicious eyebrow at her friend. "Am I to believe you have a sudden interest in photography?" 

"It's a gift." Bertha cleared her throat. "For a friend."

"No, Bertha."

"Yes."

"No. Even at that price, it's too expensive." She turned to the man. "Yeah, she's not getting that."

"Ahem, eighty dollars is not expensive for something like this," Bertha said then turned to the man as well. "Right?"

The guy scowled. "I can let it go for sixty. It's been a slow day."

"See?" Bertha beamed at her friend. "I'll take it!"

Lydia blushed with embarrassment and turned away while Bertha chatted up the dude. She continued scanning the lawn as she eavesdropped and noticed a For Sale sign on the lawn, the picture of a realtor with the fakest smile Lydia had ever seen plastered on her face. Jane Butterfield, Lydia read as the man introduced himself. The man's name was Barry Menot, and he needed to sell everything, including the house, because of a divorce.

Lydia whirled around. "Did you cheat, or did she?

"Lydia!" Bertha's mouth hung open in shock.

"Um," Barry scratched the back of his head nervously and sent his gaze sideways, "I guess you could say she did?" He chuckled mirthlessly and started to sweat.

Lydia narrowed her eyes and looked to where his gaze had landed. All she saw was a striped vintage looking couch. The stripes were black and white with engraved wood trimming painted black. It was beautiful and very much Lydia's style. Well, her old style. Dark and strange. Goth-like. How she used to be before her prince, Vince, robbed her of that too. The sofa was way too pretty to be cheap.

Lydia asked, anyway. "How much for the sofa?"

Barry choked on air and stared at her with wide, scared eyes. "Y-you mean, the black and white futon?"

Futon? "Uh, no, that nice victorian-looking one," she pointed.

Barry did an exaggerated double-take and sputtered. "Oh!" He paled visibly. "Yeah, that one. Um, name your price!" He laughed, sounding a bit deranged.

Lydia considered him a moment longer. Obviously, there was something wrong with the couch. "Nevermind, I don't have any more room in the budget."

"Okay, then just take it!" Barry exclaimed a bit too loud. "Free."

Bertha elbowed her friend. "Gosh, mister! That's awfully nice of you--"

"Yeah, that's nice, but I'm not looking to date." Lydia turned around and made to leave, but Barry grabbed her arm. She sent him a glare of death, and he let go at once as if burned.

"Sorry! I just - I mean - no, that's no - um, look, me either. I just got divorced!" He let out another crazed laugh. "That couch ruined my marriage!"

"What? How--"

"No, no. I meant - I mean - it holds a lot of bad memories for me. I was gonna junk it if no one took it." Barry's eyes widened pleadingly. 

Bertha looked between the two and decided to jump in. "Okay, we'll take it! Right, Lydia?" She elbowed her again.

"Sure," Lydia relented dubiously. 

The haul was fruitful, in Lydia's opinion. She now had an oak dining room set, essential kitchenware, a simple black nightstand from IKEA, a standing lamp... and the odd but beautiful sofa. Lydia, Bertha, and her other friend, Prudence, stood next to each other and stared at the couch while Adam, Lydia's godfather, pushed it against the wall in the living room.

"You sure there's nothing wrong with it?" Lydia asked. "No rats, or termites, or anything?"

"Positive, sweetie," Adam replied as he patted the couch and then gave it a good shake. "Solid wood. Definitely an antique but well cared for. It's a great find!"

"See?" Said Bertha. "Not all men are evil, bastards."

Adam widened his eyes. "Well, I would hope not."

Lydia rolled her eyes and smirked. "Adam, you're the only good man in this world, and Barbara is lucky to have you."

"Nah," he waved away her comment. "I'm lucky to have her!"

The man was just too sweet. Lydia smiled. "Thanks for helping me out, Adam."

Her godfather gave her a hug. "Anytime. Come by for dinner tomorrow, okay? You live a lot closer now, and we've really missed you, kiddo!"

Lydia felt awful suddenly. "Yeah, yeah. Of course. I'm pretty settled already. I miss Barbara's cooking." She hadn't visited her godparents in over two years. Her husband didn't like traveling out to the sticks.

Engaged at nineteen years old. Married ten years. Ten years! And, now she'd be thirty by the time her divorce went through. Sad, sad... sad.

Lydia watched her friends, and her godfather drive off as she waved from her front door.

Why couldn't Lydia have found a man like Adam instead of a rich, mama's boy, who suddenly decided he identified as polyamorous after he was caught with his dick in Claire Brewster's preppy, bald cunt. Because he was tall, dark, and handsome, and filthy rich, Lydia chided herself internally. And I was stupid. 

She sighed and entered her lonely, almost bare apartment. A little mewl called out to her from her bedroom. At least she wasn't entirely alone. Lydia opened her bedroom door, and a lanky black cat rubbed against her leg before heading to his bowl of food.

"At least we got each other, right, Percy?"

Meow.

Even though Adam was the perfect husband, he was perfect for Barbara. Make no mistake, Lydia loved her godfather, but he was just so, so, so boring. Lydia had always wanted to live a unique and adventurous life. Vince had provided that because he had the money to keep her on her toes. They traveled the world together, rubbing elbows with many of her idols. He had catered to her every whim. At first.

Money was not a big deal for Lydia. She would have been happy working at something she enjoyed doing like photography or designing clothes, heck, even work at a nice gallery. Vince had enticed her to a life of gallivanting around the globe instead. That was okay because she was in love. She was an idiot. That life lasted about five years, and then they settled down right next door to her horrible mother-in-law. They tried to have kids, but it just didn't pan out. At around the seven-year-itch, Vince's mummy dearest started pressuring Lydia into trying fertility treatments, but Lydia put her foot down. She decided that adoption would be good enough for her, but Vince's mother was disgusted with that idea. Of course, Vince took mommy's side. Things went downhill from there. 

Lydia knew she should have left Vince sooner, but at the time, she just couldn't find a good enough reason to leave him. It seemed selfish to leave her husband because she was unhappy. They tried couples therapy, but nothing changed. She saw less and less of her husband as the days went by. They were both aimless and just barely tolerating each other. The final straw was the cheating. Lydia knew Vince was screwing around for years, but she couldn't prove it. Like all affairs tend to be unveiled, it happened by accident. The moron had left his iPad laying around, and Lydia saw the text messages. 

The divorcee made herself a cup of tea and sat at her new dining table. "I guess ramen for dinner again, huh, Percy?"

Meow.

Lydia sipped her tea and looked out of her curtainless window. It was already dark, even though it was only six-thirty. The clouds parted, and Lydia gasped at the full moon that was revealed to her. It cast an eerie light into the room, and very suddenly, Lydia felt as if she was no longer alone.

Not like she felt happy, content, or at peace, or anything like that. No, no. She literally felt like there was someone else in the apartment - watching her.

She shuddered. Slowly, Lydia turned in her seat towards her living room, fully expecting someone to be there. There was no one, but the feeling of being watched remained. Swallowing down her tea hard, Lydia stood and wandered to the area. The light of the moon blanketed the striped sofa. For a long moment, Lydia's imagination ran wild because the ridiculous thought that the couch was leering at her entered her mind. 

Quickly, Lydia flicked the switch on the wall, and the light turned on. She scoffed and shook her head at the sofa — what a weird thing to think. Couches can't leer. She laughed softly, turned off the light, and headed to her bedroom. Before she closed the door to her bathroom within, Lydia thought she heard someone snicker.

Must have been Percy.

The couch was haunted. 

It was the only explanation. 

Lydia was just about going bonkers at the amount of weird shit going on, and she had tried to rationalize it away with every sane, logical, and sensible explanation she could come up with.

The first week since the sofa was placed in her home, Lydia continued to feel the odd sensation of being watched whenever she was near it. It was so unsettling that Lydia avoided sitting on the damned piece of furniture even when she finally got a TV. It was ridiculous, and Lydia knew this, but even Percy was avoiding the living room entirely. Sometimes that cat would just sit on the dining room table and stare at the sofa, ears flattened, tail a bit puffy and twitching, and pupils blown wide. 

Lydia had finally landed a temporary job at a Spirit Halloween store that still had Toys R Us decals and ads on the walls. She started working right away. She was getting home late because she had no car and had to bike six miles back home. Not a long ways away, but Lydia was out of shape, even though she was still a twig, and had to stop often to catch her breath and rest her screaming legs. 

So, on day six of her trudging through the first week of employment, all Lydia wanted in the whole wide world was to shower, eat her burrito bowl, and vegetate in front of the TV to watch The Haunting of Hill House on her stolen Netflix account - and-just-fucking-unwind. 

Lydia had entered her apartment with purpose. She was going to sit on that damned sofa and get over her paranoia. It was just a couch for Pete's sake! With narrowed eyes and steeled nerves, Lydia slammed the door behind her and looked pointedly at the ominous piece of furniture. She could swear it was staring back. The minutes ticked away during the childish Mexican standoff, but Lydia finally hung her bag and keys on the foyer rack, never taking her eyes off the sofa. 

"I'm going to shower." She said out loud as if the couch were sentient. "Then I'm going to watch tv."

Only silence ensued, but the air seemed charged with provocation as if the sofa was silently daring her to make good on her promise. The energy in the room was almost suffocating, and Lydia swore she heard the couch groan. Quick as a whip, Lydia switched the light on in the living room, and the overwhelming sensation was gone in a blink as if it had never happened. 

Because it didn't, she scolded herself. You're tired, and you've never lived on your own. 

Lydia left the light on, regardless of her rationalizing and made straight for her bathroom. She liked her showers piping hot, never settling for a temperature less than what would inevitably leave her looking like a boiled lobster by the end of it. As the steam filled the bathroom, and the hot water hit her skin, Lydia sighed contentedly. This was the highlight of her daily existence now. The shower was a safe space, and Lydia could let her mind wander without becoming too attached to her problems. It was almost meditative, and it was the only place she would allow herself to picture a better life and believe it was possible to attain. 

While her thoughts ran amok, she acknowledged her earlier realization; she'd never lived alone before. She'd lived with her parents, then shared a dorm in college, and then moved in with Vince after that. Annoyed with herself for not celebrating that she could now be her own woman and a self-sufficient adult, Lydia wondered what dating app she should try. Hadn't she sworn off men? Should she try dating women? Why couldn't she just shut the door on romantic love and focus on loving herself for once! Regardless of her depreciative musings, she couldn't help visualizing the perfect man.

He didn't have to be handsome - look at where that had gotten her. He didn't have to be rich - it would probably trigger her anyhow. He didn't even have to be that young - maybe a more experienced man would actually be able to get her off once in a while. He just needed to love her, really love her. He needed to contribute to their home. He needed to compliment her flaws and be less like her. She wanted someone with a sense of adventure, who could take charge and - oh - it'd be great if he had a sense of humor! That was more important to her than the occasional good sex requirement. Vince had been such a bore! Her ex could only rely on his money to keep Lydia entertained, and he never got her jokes. True, Lydia had a dark sense of humor, but she could make others laugh with her deadpan wit, except Vince. 

The shower dipped below Lydia's standards, and she groaned with disappointment. The loud squeak of the nobs turning while she shut the water off was enough to feel like she crash-landed back to reality. The high-pitched noise was so grating, she shuddered. Before Lydia could spiral thinking about her real problems, like how she was going to pay for her student loans - good God, how am I going to pay for my student loans? The growl from her angry stomach veered her away from imagining herself pole dancing at the Beaver Barn two blocks down.

There were more important things to do than panic over bills and plummeting credit scores, like slipping into the baggiest give-up-on-life pants and an oversized hoodie. Then nuking her leftover burrito bowl and --

Lydia halted at the living room as she towel-dried her hair. She looked around, feeling something was off. Off...

The light was off.

Lydia had positively left the light on. Or did she? Exhaustion won over trepidation as she made her way to the couch. Standing before it, towel in one hand and a plate of food in the other, Lydia sighed and shook her head.

"Stupid."

She plopped down on the sofa and paused to see if it would swallow her whole and send her into another dimension. She bounced the cushion for good measure. Damn, this couch is comfy! Then she shrugged, crossed her legs, and hit the power button on the tv remote. Lydia let out a snicker as she powered up the Apple TV that she'd stolen from her previous life and excitedly hit the play button on episode two of her new favorite show.

A loud yowl nearly sent Lydia into cardiac arrest, and she snapped her gaze to the dining area. Percy was sitting at the junction between the cheap linoleum of the dining room and the living room carpet. 

"Percy!" She scolded and chuckled with relief. "You scared me. Come," she patted the seat next to her, wiggled her fingers, and made kissy noises, but Percy would not budge. 

HISSSS!

Lydia flinched at Percy's new noise. She'd never heard him hiss before. His tailed puffed and twitched, and he looked pretty pissed. 

"Fine." As odd as that had been, she was too engrossed with what was happening on screen. 

Burrito bowl thoroughly scarfed, eyelids heavy, and body slouching forward, Lydia willed herself to stay awake to finish episode four--

She passed out.

With a loud gasp, Lydia shot to sitting and looked around wildly while she panted. What happened? Where was she? Her eyes landed on the TV, the annoying "are you still watching" message on the screen. What-- oh. She was in the living room. On the sofa. She must have fallen asleep on the sofa. Why is it so hot?

Despite the chill in the air, Lydia was sweating, her heart was racing, and her panties were--

It was then she realized she'd been having the most erotic dream ever, and yet she couldn't remember anything about it. The only thing she knew was that her orgasm was incredibly intense, stronger than any other she'd ever experienced, which really wasn't saying much in her case.

Lydia laughed out loud - she had a wet dream. There was still a satisfying little ache between her legs. She squirmed a bit, stretched, and languidly made her way to her bed. Whatever the dream was about, she hoped she'd have another one before morning. 

What sounded like snickering echoed in the hall before she closed her door. Maybe it's rats.

It was not rats.

The incident could have been overlooked. After all, it was not like anything out of the ordinary had happened. Lydia had fallen asleep on the couch and had a sexy dream. What's strange about that? Nothing. Except that two days later, Lydia had fallen asleep on the couch again only to experience the same thing. The only difference from the first time was that Lydia remembered one detail from her dream; black and white stripes. That made sense, didn't it? The couch was striped. She'd conked out on said couch.  

But things got weirder.

The living room light kept going out, and on one odd occasion, it turned on all by itself. Obviously, her shitty apartment had electrical issues. The Haunting of Hill House would come on during the night, waking Lydia. Perhaps she left the tv on, and Percy sat on the remote. Yeah, that's it. And was that moss that had grown on one of the armrests? Odd. Maybe Lydia dragged it in when she used the shortcut through the old, foresty cemetery. She'd seen moss on the trunks, certainly. Yeah. The couch would groan at the oddest moments, like when Lydia would give into her guilty pleasure of watching old episodes of Grey's Anatomy. Or, when Lydia decided not to watch tv and head straight for bed. Or when Lydia finally made her profile on Bumble. Then there was the time the sofa pinched her ass. Or, rather, Lydia sat on something pinchy. That had to be it, but she couldn't find the culprit for the life of her.

Look, it's not like Lydia was completely oblivious. She'd watched enough horror films to know that her place was haunted, or, more specifically, the couch was possessed. She wasn't an idiot. But there's always that inner skeptic that pushes obvious signs aside or squashes any thoughts of the supernatural down into "the nope vault." Everyone does it, even the ones who want to believe - and Lydia wanted to believe once upon a time. Now she was pretty sure she had a horny poltergeist sleazing around in the upholstery of her beautiful sofa, and she wasn't sure she wanted to believe any longer. So, her brain did its damndest to ignore the strange and unusual happenings that had become a daily occurrence.

But after seven thunderously climactic occurrences on that godsend of a sofa, it could no longer be ignored. Lydia remembered more details of her dreams each time. There was wiry, white-blond hair, blue eyes, pale hands, and stripes. Lydia was sure it was the same man in the dreams, but she could only hold on to glimpses and never remember the face.

Although the orgasms were terrific and very much appreciated - truly grateful, she was - the dreams were getting downright creepy. In fact, she wasn't so sure they were dreams anymore. More like nightmares. Or worse, real.

Bah! Psh. Nah... Well... only one way to find out.

Lydia's place was mostly decorated, even if all the furniture was mismatched, so she wasn't too embarrassed to have her friends over for dinner and wine. Bertha and Prudence were a bit tentative and awkward at first, which made Lydia feel nervous. She'd been awful at keeping in touch with them after college, but when they started meeting up towards the end of her marriage, things seemed to go back to how they used to be after some alcohol and time. Hence, the wine was already served before they even knocked on the door.

Mostly they just caught each other up with happenings since the last time they saw each other. As the wine dwindled, so did the nerves, and they were back to their old selves. Lydia sighed with relief when Bertha let out some incredibly crass things to say over dinner. They nearly choked on their food as they laughed. It was turning out to be such a great night, and Lydia wondered why she hadn't done this sooner. 

Right. The haunted couch.

There was only a smidge of guilt as Lydia ushered the women to the living room after dinner.

"You girls get comfy, I'll get the cheesecake!" Lydia dashed the fridge and removed the desert. Then she quickly stood at the edge of the dining room and watched her friends take their seats.

Both Prudence and Bertha sat on the sofa. 

Lydia waited.

"Lyds?" Prudence called. "Everything all right?"

They were staring at her with concern. "Yep," she smiled and walked to the green armchair she had gotten at GoodWill. "I'm just really happy we've reconnected. I know I haven't really..." she trailed off and placed the cheesecake, paper plates, and plastic forks on the coffee table.

"Life happens, girl," Bertha consoled. "Pru and I weren't much better at reaching out."

"Yeah," Prudence lamented, "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Lydia nodded and pursed her lips.

"Okay!" Bertha exclaimed and rubbed her hands together. "Now that we've got that awkward business outta the way, let's dig in! I fucking love cheesecake." She served herself and took a bite before anyone else could. "Mmm!" She let out the most obscene moan.

Lydia snapped her head up with wide eyes, thinking the couch had already put the moves on Bertha. 

"Have I ever told ya" Bertha said with her mouthful, "bout the time I smeared cheesecake on a guys dick--"

"Oh, God..." Prudence closed her eyes and prepared.

"-- because he tasted so nasty! It worked. If you ever run into that problem..." She lifted her plate of cake and nodded with a wink.

"Christ," Lydia breathed, but she and Pru giggled hysterically anyway. 

The three continued to talk and reminisce. By the time they were on the third bottle of wine, Lydia had forgotten all about her other goal of the night.

Until...

"Fuckn'-A!" Bertha tugged on her blouse, trying to air it out. "It's so hot. It's hot, right?"

Prudence shrugged, but Lydia immediately grew suspicious.

"Maybe it's the wine," Prudence offered. "I'm feeling a bit h-warm, but it's nice," she all but slurred.

"Yeah, right. The wine," Lydia agreed. That made sense, but she narrowed her eyes at Bertha, who shifted in her seat and furrowed her brow. "You okay? I can lower the AC."

Lydia didn't wait for Bertha to respond. She got up and lowered the temperature even though the thermostat read sixty-one degrees. Lydia could feel the wine, but she wasn't sweating. Bertha was dripping sweat, and Prudence was shiny and flushed.

"Hmm," Bertha hummed and stared into her glass of wine with a quirk of her brow and a frown. "Y'all ever get horny after drinking wine?"

Prudence snorted and then giggled like a virgin.

Lydia nodded and realized her mistake in the choice of alcohol. Drinks usually left her feeling a slight sense of arousal too, and wine was most effective to induce that sensation. Damn it, Lydia thought. Now she would never know it was the sofa--

"Wow," Bertha's eyes fluttered, "I've, um, I know I bought this before..." she closed her eyes. "Never, uh, never... felt so... oh shiiiiit..."

It was then that Lydia heard a mousy, hiccup-like laugh, and when she set her eyes on Prudence, she found the ginger was scarlet, blotches of red on her face, neck, and ears. And she looked terribly embarrassed.

It was definitely the sofa. 

Lydia's eyes bugged out as she switched her gaze between the women. Lydia was momentarily horrified with herself. She'd subjected her friends to molestation via a lecherous couch. They seemed happy, though, and suddenly Lydia was feeling something else. 

Anger.

So, the sofa was not monogamous, huh? Just like her fucking ex-husband. How dare the couch-bastard feel up her friends! Right in front of her no less! 

"Off." Lydia blurted out with a frown.

The women looked up at her and froze with guilty faces. 

Bertha cleared her throat. "Um, what?" Her pitch was higher than usual.

"Off. The. Couch," Lydia pronounced.

Prudence rocketed off the sofa and adjusted her clothes, pinching her jeans at the thighs and pulling them down a bit. "You know, um, it's getting late," Prudence squeaked.

"Yeah, it is," Lydia agreed with a sneer. 

"I'm too drunk to drive," Bertha whined and squirmed in her seat again.

Lydia held up her phone. "Lyft ordered. Two minutes."

"Lydiaaaa," Bertha pleaded, "can't I just stay here and sleep on the sofa?"

"NO!" Lydia shot out of her chair and snatched Bertha's glass out of her hands. "It's not the wine that's messing with you," she confessed. "It's the couch." 

Her guests looked at each other and then back to their host with furrowed brows. Oh, well, now she put her foot in it. What the hell was she going to say? That the sofa was possessed by a predatory phantom Don Juan, and that she was jealous?

JEALOUS?!

"I just realized I cleaned it with some strong stuff, and we've been inhaling the fumes this whole time!" The lie came easily, half sober.

"Oh, my!" Prudence declared and stumbled away from the furniture.

Bertha looked slightly concerned but didn't budge, so Lydia continued. "My grandmother almost died mopping her floor from cleaning chemicals, Bertha! Who knows what it's doing to your brain cells?!"

"Bertha, get off the couch!" Prudence shrieked.

Finally, Bertha sighed and pushed herself up on unsteady legs. "Fine," she pouted and collected her things.

Prudence was scurrying around and opening all the windows in the apartment when the notification came that their ride was outside. Lydia ushered them out the door as quickly as possible and assured them she'd be alright, promising to turn on all the fans and air out the place. She waved at them as they rode off, a forced smile plastered on her face until the car disappeared.

Once her friends were out of sight, Lydia about-faced and stormed into her apartment, slamming the front door.

With a face that screamed murder, Lydia jutted an angry finger at the sofa and seethed. 

"You motherfucker," she groused. 

She ran to the couch, picked up a decorative pillow, and began whacking it with enough force to send a dust and lint cloud into the air around her. 

Lydia yelled in between hits. "Dead...," WHACK, "or alive," WHACK, "you're all," WHACK, "the same!" WHACK. "I'll gut...," WHACK, "your stuffings out!"

WHACK-WHACK-WACK

Lydia's fury was volcanic. She hadn't even been that angry with Vince, and from an outsider's perspective, a woman beating the shit out of a couch because she thought it was cheating on her was outrageously ludicrous. It was that notion that made Lydia stumble backward and away from the abused furniture only to start laughing in a hysterical fit. 

"Oh, I'm losing my goddamn mind!" She continued laughing and wiping away her tears. "Jesus Christ, Lydia, get a grip. It's just... a couch." 

The memory of its previous owner came to her in a sudden flash. Barry had said the couch had ruined his marriage. She panted and stared at the womanizing sofa for a long moment and came to a decision. 

Lydia needed to find Barry.

To Be Continued...

--------------------

AN: Thank you for reading! I’d love to know what you think of this so far! 

I hope to finish this story soon and post the whole thing as a oneshot on Ao3 and FF. You can subscribe to me on either site to get the update of when it’s posted (search for mordelle) or just keep a look out here on tumblr!

Please like, comment, send asks, or reblog if you enjoyed this! It always makes my day.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

[redditnosleep]

Has Anyone Heard of The Left/Right Game?

by NeonTempo

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 (Final)

A few points before we start.

Firstly, I am not the protagonist of this story. I just went to university with her, and though she went on to become a professional writer, I most certainly did not. She'll be taking over from me further down but, until then, please forgive my slightly awkward delivery while I give you guys the necessary context.

Secondly, I don't know what you will make of the following events, and I'm sure many of you might consider it all some sort of hoax. I wasn't present for any of what transpired in Phoenix, Arizona but I can vouch for the person who wrote the following logs. She is not, and has never been, a fantasist.

Ok so I once knew a girl called Alice Sharma. She was an undergrad at Edinburgh Uni the same time I was. My educational poison was History, a degree which has greatly benefited my career as a bicycle repairman. Alice Sharma studied journalism, though perhaps "studied" isn't the word. It's not an exaggeration to say that she lived and breathed the subject. Editor-in-chief of the campus paper, recognisable voice of student radio. She was frustratingly tunnel visioned, and she was a journalist in her own right before anyone gave her a professional shot.

We met in student halls and became friends almost immediately. A meandering waster trying to stay off his parent's farm and an intrepid, ambitious reporter may not seem the most obvious pairing, but I learned not to question it. She was inspiring, and smart and she proofread all my essays. I’m not too sure what she saw in me.

We were eventually flatmates down in London where she chased her dream and I chased my tail. She got a few jobs here and there, but nothing befitting of her skills. After months of fruitless internships and rejections, Alice called a flat meeting, telling us that she was moving to America, accepting a position chasing stories for National Public Radio. The job had come out of the blue, the result of a hail mary application she thought had been dismissed out of hand. We threw her a bittersweet going away party and put the room up for rent.

That party was the last time I saw Alice Sharma. She dropped out of contact a few months after her departure. Complete radio silence. I assumed she was just busy so I carried on with my small but happy life, and waited for her to pop up on television with some important words below her name; Chief Correspondent, Senior Analyst… something like that.

The radio silence was broken last week, and, for reasons you’ll glean further down, I’m less happy about it than I would’ve thought.

Arriving home from work I found a lone email in my otherwise bare inbox. An email that would later be described as "suspicious" by my tech literate friends. Despite being born in the early 1990's I didn't own a computer until uni, and I've missed several important lessons in the world of cyberspace. Lessons like "Don't call it Cyberspace" of course and more importantly, "Don't open emails with no text, no subject and no sender's address."

I realise most of you would have deleted this anonymous, blank email immediately, my friends certainly would have, but beyond my basic ignorance about online safety, something further compelled me to open it. The only thing of substance in the entire message was a zipped folder, labeled:

Left.Right.AS

I don't have to explain what I was hoping those final initials stood for.

Opening the zipped folder I found myself staring at a stack of text files. Each one titled with a date, continuing sequentially from the very earliest file "07-02-2017". (To any Americans in the room this is the 7th of February).

I’ve since read the files a few times, and shown them to some friends. They don't know what to make of it either, but they certainly aren't as concerned as me. They think Alice is just in a creative writing phase and, if I didn't know her, I’d have to agree. But the thing is, I do know her. Alice Sharma only cares about the truth and if that's the case with these files, insane as it may sound, then it’s very possible my friend has documented her own disappearance.

The people who suggested this forum said you discuss strange occurrences etc. If you guys have come across anything to do with the below, or know any of the people involved, then please send any information my way.

Has anyone here heard of the Left/Right Game?

The Left/Right Game [DRAFT 1] 07/02/2017

They say great stories happen to those who can tell them. Robert J. Guthard is an exception to that rule. As I sit at his table, sip his coffee and listen to him recount the past 65 years it sounds like he's reading off a shopping list. Every event, his first job, his second wedding, his third divorce, none of them receive more than one or two sentences. Rob plows through the years, the curt, dispassionate curator of his own personal history. Yet the story itself is so fascinating, so rich with moments and so wildly meandering that it somehow stands on its own merits.

It's a great story, no matter how you tell it.

By the time Rob was 21, he'd gotten married, had a son, worked as a farmer, a mover, a boat engineer, and grown estranged from his spouse... Here's him talking about that.

ROB: Course my wife started to get dissatisfied, I was away a while.

AS: For work?

ROB:Vietnam.

AS: You were in Vietnam? How was that for you?

ROB: I ain't never been back since.

That was everything he had to say concerning his first divorce, and the entire Vietnam war.

Rob had four marriages after that, and even more professions. After the war he worked with a firm of private detectives, got shot at once by the mob, then he became a courier, which is how a poor boy from Alabama got to see the world.

ROB: I been to most of the continents with that job. I been to India. You from India?

AS: My mum and dad are from India yeah.

ROB: See I could tell.

He'd been arrested once in Singapore, after one of his packages had been found to be full of white powder. He spent three days locked up before someone got around to checking the substance. It was chalk.

A friend he made during his brief custody, Hiroji Sato, invited Rob to stay with him in Japan. Just getting over the breakup of his third marriage, Rob took the offer. He stayed in Japan for another 5 years.

ROB: The Japanese are good people. Good manners. But they got all these urban legends and ghost stories that Hiroji was crazy for, spent all his free time chasing them down. Like, you heard of Jorogumo?

AS: I don't think so"

ROB: Well she's this spider lady lives in the Joro Falls round Izu. Meant to be real pretty but real dangerous. Hiroji took us out there to get a picture of her.

AS: Did you ever meet Jorogumo?

ROB Nah she didn't show. None of them did. I didn't believe at all until we went to Aokigahara

Aokigahara, affectionately titled the Suicide Forest. The next stop on Rob's adventure. It's an area of woodland at the base of Mount Fuji, a notorious hotspot for young people looking to take their own lives. Hiroji, Rob's ghost obsessed jailmate turned best friend, took him to Aokigahara to chase "yurei" the ghosts of the forest.

AS: Did you find anything? In Aokigahara?

ROB: Well I ain't gonna ask you to believe me. But I was a PI. Professional cynic. Even I can't deny there was a spirit in those woods.

From that moment on, Rob's sentences start getting longer. A childlike excitement creeps into his voice. I get the distinct feeling we're moving beyond background, beyond Rob Guthard's old life, and towards his new one. The one he wants to talk about. The one that led him to contact the show.

ROB: It walked up to me through the trees. Looked like static you see on a TV screen but it had a human shape almost.

AS: Almost?

ROB: It was missing an arm. It reached out to me but I bolted outta that forest so fast. Hiroji never saw it, holds it against me to this day.

Hiroji had good reason to be annoyed. Rob says that Mr Sato had been going to the forest 2-3 times per year for three decades. To have a rookie come along and claim to have seen a yurei on his first trip? I'd be more than a little cranky.

But Rob didn't stay a rookie for long. In fact, it was in those woods that he discovered his current passion. The supernatural, or more accurately, the documentation and investigation of urban legends. Legends like Bloody Mary, the Jersey Devil, Sasquatch. Rob has looked into them all.

ROB: I figured if one was true then who knows how many others could be.

AS: How many have you proven so far?

ROB: Since Aokigahara? Ain't none of em had any proof to em. Except for one. That's why I called you guys up.

At this point, Rob can’t hope to repress his smile.

The Left/Right game appeared on a paranormal message board in June 2016. Only a few people frequently visited the forum and, of these regulars, only Rob took an interest in the post.

ROB: The whole thing had a level of detail you don't see in other stories.

AS: What details grabbed your interest?

ROB: Logs. High quality pictures. The guy documented everything, said he wasn't gonna play the game anymore. I think he wanted somebody to keep investigating.

AS: And you were that somebody.

ROB: That's right. I set about trying to verify his information right away.

AS: And how did it go?

ROB: Well... It didn't take long to realise the Left/Right Game is the real thing.

The rules of the Left/Right game are simple. Get in your car and take a drive. Take a left, then the next possible road on the right, then the next possible left. Repeat the process ad infinitum, until you wind up somewhere... new. The rules are easy to understand, but Rob says their not so easy to follow.

ROB: There ain't all that many roads where you can turn left and right and left and right and keep going. Most of the time you find yourself at a dead end or needing to turn in the wrong direction. Phoenix is built on a grid system so you can keep going left and right as long as you need to.

AS: Did you move to Phoenix for the Left/Right game?

ROB: That's right.

I try not to seem incredulous. Selling your house in another state, packing up and moving your whole life to Phoenix, Arizona just to play a game you saw on the internet? It seems like insanity. Rob smiles as he reads my expression. I can clearly read his expression too. "You'll see." It says. "Just wait."

I wouldn't have to wait long. Included within the 9 page submission Rob sent our show, was a long list of suggested items the chosen reporter should bring with them. Clothes for three days, a pocket knife, matches, bandages. There were also a set of qualifications the reporter should have. The ability to drive, basic vehicle maintenance and its human equivalent... first aid training. He didn't just want to talk about the Left/Right Game. He wanted to take one of us along.

Rob leaves a short while later to embark on a few errands, "Prepping the Run", as he calls it. He shows me to the guest room and we part ways, on good terms but very much aware of the other's poorly veiled opinions. He knew I saw him as a charming obsessive, chasing after a fairy tale. He saw me as a naive cynic, on the cusp of a new world. All I could think as I heard the front door close is that by tomorrow afternoon, one of us would be right.

More after this.

When I wake up the next morning, Rob is in my room, holding a tray which he'd knocked on the bottom of to rouse me. I don't manage to record the start of our conversation.

ROB: - I got bananas, strawberries, chocolate syrup. We got some more downstairs but I wanted you to wake up to something good. We won't be eatin' this stuff on the road."

Rob has made me waffles. He sets them down on the night stand and talks through the coming day as I eat. I'll admit it feels a little uncomfortable, waking up in a stranger's home to find said stranger already standing over me, but I quickly move past it. I tell myself that he’s an older man, accustomed to living alone in his own house, not usually having to think about boundaries. Anyway, he certainly knows his way around a waffle iron.

ROB: We hit the road at 9. I wanted to give you time to get ready before everyone shows up.

AS: There are other people coming?

ROB: We got a 5 car convoy on the road today. They'll be here in an hour.

This is the first I’ve heard of a convoy, and to be honest I’m surprised. The game is Rob's obsession, and I’m here at his request. The idea that anyone else would have an interest in today's drive is a little perplexing.

Half an hour later, sated, showered and dressed in the "functional clothing" Rob had so painstakingly outlined, I take my pack out to the porch. Rob’s already there, waiting for his associates to show up.

AS: I thought you'd be conducting a few more errands.

ROB: If you ain't prepared by the morning of, you ain't prepared.

AS: Hah ok I guess that's fair. Oh, Rob is the garage locked? The inside door won't budge and I wanted to mic up the car.

ROB: Yeah it's locked up I'll open it for ya.

AS: Thank you.

ROB: In fact it's about time I wheeled her out. Fair warning Ms Sharma, she's a thing of beauty.

To Rob Guthard, beauty took the form of a dark green Jeep Wrangler. Rob climbs in and lets it roll out of the garage, where it dominates every inch of driveway. The car is large; four doors with a roof enclosing the entire compartment. It’s also been modified extensively, yet another example of Rob's dedication to the game.

ROB: What're you thinking?

AS: I think you're two caterpillar treads short of driving a tank.

ROB: Hah yeah I fixed her up good. I put the winch in, heavy duty tires, the light rig on top is LED's. They'll make midnight look like noon but they don't use hardly any power.

AS: Aren't Jeeps open top usually?

ROB: Not all. This is the Unlimited. I like to have a covered car when I head on the road.

I climb in and stow my pack. Rob had removed the back seats to afford more storage space. The place is packed to the brim. Jerry cans of gasoline, barrels of water, rope, snacks and his own neatly packed set of clothes.

I wonder if the rest of our convoy would take the game so seriously.

ROB: We got Apollo coming up in 10 minutes. No one else has given me a time. I sent the schedule weeks ago, this always happens.

AS: His name's Apollo?

ROB: That's his call sign. Apollo Creed I think he said.

AS: Why are you using call signs?

ROB: Did I not tell you? Oh yeah we're gonna use call signs on the road, keep communication clear.

AS: What's your callsign?

ROB: Ferryman.

AS: ... What's my call sign?

ROB: I thought about it. I was thinking London, you're from London right?

AS: I'm from Bristol.

ROB: Bristol? That’s fine I guess.

It’s less than ten minutes before Apollo turns the corner. Rob jumps out of his chair and paces briskly over to the edge of his property, as his first guest pulls up and steps onto the sidewalk.

Apollo vaguely resembles his namesake, dark skinned, tall and noticeably well built, though it’s clear he couldn’t be less of a fighter. This Apollo Creed is all smiles and seems to have a penchant for laughing at his own jokes.

AS: How far have you come?

APOLLO: I've come out of Chicago. Took three days hard driving.

AS: And you know Rob from the forums?

APOLLO: Everybody knows Rob, Rob's the god! Ahaha

Rob walks over to Apollo's car, gesturing him over to talk shop. Rob’s clearly impressed with Apollo's choice of vehicle, a blue Range Rover packed to the ceiling with kit. I was more impressed with Rob himself. Somehow this 65 year old farmer's son had become respected in a vast online community. My dad is Rob’s age and he's just discovered copy and paste.

The rest don't take long to arrive. Two Minnesotan librarians, also around Rob's age, pull up in a grey Ford Focus. They’re brother and sister, and they've shared ghost hunting as a hobby their entire lives. I find it hard to suppress a smile when they meekly introduce themselves as Bonnie and Clyde.

CLYDE: We would have gotten here sooner we had to drop by to get some blankets. Pleasure to meet you ma'am.

AS: Pleasure to meet you too.

CLYDE: Would you be the journalist?

AS: That's right.

CLYDE: You used to write for the town paper didn't you?

He's talking to his sister there, she nods. Clyde is clearly the spokesperson for the pair, yet they both seem incredibly shy. Whether they admire the famous outlaws, or just the name, it's pretty clear they couldn't be more different from the real thing.

Next to show up are Lilith and Eve, English Lit students at New York University and proprietors of the YouTube channel Paranormicon. Unlike Bonnie and Clyde, Lilith and Eve have no issue holding a conversation. As soon as they learn who I am, and what I do for a living, they attempt to conscript me for an expedition to Roswell.

LILITH: We have a friend there, he's been seeing some-

EVE: -He's a seismologist

LILITH: Yeah and he's been recording readings over the years that show subterranean movement. Predictable movement.

EVE: We're going to see him in July, but we could work it around you if you're free.

AS: I'll have to check my schedule

EVE: OK cool let me give you my email...

They quickly hurry off to film an intro for their latest video, featuring a quick interview with Rob, who seems pretty welcoming of the attention.

The last two cars arrive within a few seconds of each other. A lithe, strong willed older lady who goes by Bluejay and a younger man going by the callsign “Ace”. Bluejay has arrived in a grey Ford Explorer. Ace, much to Rob's annoyance, has arrived in a Porsche.

ROB: Did you think that's gonna help on the road? I didn't write that-

ACE: It's my car. What am I meant to do,? It's my car.

ROB: You didn't read my itinerary, you got nothing packed in there.

ACE: I did read it sir OK? Calm down. I have a bag, I won't ask you for anything.

ROB: Well I know that's true.

Ace and Rob were off to a bad start. Ace takes a phone call, and despite my best efforts to get an interview with Bluejay, she doesn't seem interested in talking to a journalist.

With five cars, and seven travellers waiting for a green light, Rob hands out radios and charging packs, then launches into a quick safety briefing. Wear seatbelts. Stay in position. Communicate clearly and often. It’s at this moment I start to feel a little dismay. I like Rob, and clearly so does everyone else. He'd convinced all of them to drive across the country to join in with his game. I start to worry what will happen in the likely event that the whole thing isn’t real. Would Rob lose the respect of his peers? Would he accept failure when it comes? After seeing the effort he’s put into these runs, the next few hours have the potential to be wildly uncomfortable.

With a smile and a few encouraging words, Rob ends his briefing and beckons me over to the Wrangler. I clamber inside and make myself as comfortable as possible.

ROB: You ready for this Bristol?

AS: I'm ready.

ROB: Ok then let's hit the road.

The Wrangler pulls out of the driveway, and the convoy follows in order of arrival. Apollo, Bonnie & Clyde, Lilith & Eve, Bluejay and Ace keep a steady pace behind us as we come up to the first corner.

Rob slowly and deliberately turns left, checking on the others in his rear view mirror. He looks back to the road as Ace’s Porsche completes the first turn of the game. Shortly afterwards, Apollo checks in on the CB radio.

APOLLO: This is Apollo for Ferryman. How many to more go Rob? ahahaha

ROB: Hah as many as it takes.

I can tell Rob wanted the to reserve the radio for something other than Apollo's quips. But he seems to like Apollo enough to let it slide. I'm not sure Ace would have received the same treatment. We take the next right, then another left. Now safely assured that everyone's following correctly, Rob speaks my thoughts aloud.

ROB: You're wondering the same thing Apollo is.

AS: What do you mean?

ROB: You're wondering how many turns we're gonna take before we hit some wall or something. Before you find out this is all just a story.

AS: Does that disappoint you?

ROB: I'd be disappointed if you weren't thinking something like it. But now we're on the road I gotta say something and you gotta listen to it.

AS: OK...

ROB: We're coming up to a tunnel soon. Any time before we reach it you can get out, walk in any direction you like, and you won’t be in the game no more. Once we go through, you gotta retrace the route we took to get yourself back out that tunnel. That's when you’re home. And you gotta convince someone to take you back in a car coz I ain't ferrying you back 20 minutes in. You got till the tunnel to skip out on this, understand?

AS: I understand. Though I have to say I'm getting little nervous.

ROB: Ain't nothing wrong with a little nervous.

We've taken 23 turns by this point. Already I feel like we're traversing the city pretty effectively. Rob's heavily modified Wrangler solicits a few impressed glances from passersby, as well as several honks of respect from other Jeep drivers. Other than those few moments, everything seems completely indistinguishable from a regular morning drive. I even start to worry if there’ll be anything at all for this story. “Reporter Takes Drive With Interesting Man” isn’t exactly Pulitzer worthy.

Turn 33 leads us onto a short, unassuming street. A row of small businesses in a quiet Phoenician neighbourhood; liquor, second hand clothing, tools and, at the end of the street, a little shop selling antique mirrors. Ten or so people shuffle along the sidewalk, smiling, talking, planning their weekends. The only lone person is a young woman in a grey coat..

I briefly glimpse her at the end of the street, standing on our next corner, the back of her coat reflected in fifty old mirrors. Even from a distance I can see that she’s sullen, wide eyed and nervous. She shifts constantly on her feet, tugging at the button of her coat.

I look away to write some notes as we roll down the street. When I look up again, the woman is standing by my window, staring right at me. She’s smiling, a wide, unfaltering grin that seems almost offensive in its complete insincerity.

GREYWOMAN: Lambs at the gate. Hoping for something better than clover when all they find are things worse than slaughter.

AS: Rob what's happening?

ROB: Ignore her.

GREYWOMAN: He wanted to leave me so I cut him out. The lake was hungry it drank the wound clean.

AS: Miss, are you alright?

The smile vanishes, it snaps from her face and suddenly, the woman is furious.

GREYWOMAN: What do you think you're doing?! Have you gone mad?!

I reflexively press myself back in my chair as the woman, wild eyed and gaunt, slams her fists against my window, with every intent of breaking through.

GREYWOMAN: Would you dance down the lion’s tongue? It will shred you, you whore! It will shred you down to your sins! You fucking bastard!

Rob puts his foot down, and the Wrangler rolls defiantly away from the woman. As we turn the corner I watch her as she wretches, her every movement cradled in abject hysteria. She yells despairingly at the rest of the convoy, bursting into tears when the last car passes her by.

As she shrinks into the rear view mirror, I see her turn to a large mirror on the side of the shop, which the owner is in the process of polishing. I watch as she walks up to it, and with a convulsant scream, slams her head into the glass.

The mirror cracks around her forehead, the owner jumps back in shock, and as the woman pulls her head from the mirror's surface, the fractured spider’s web is dripping red. It all happens in a split second, and she quickly swerves from my view as we take the next left.

AS: Rob, what was that?

ROB: She's there sometimes.

AS: On that street?

ROB: On the 34th turn.

AS: Who is she?

ROB: I don't know. She's never acted out that much before though. Must be a special trip.

I find Rob's lack of concern a little unpleasant, and his implication that this woman's ravings were the symptom of an internet game leaves me more than a little perturbed. As I see it, there are a few explanations for what just happened, and none of them lead to a comforting conclusion.

If we had just encountered a bonafide crazy person, then one could argue that Rob is just seeing what he wants to see. Maybe he'd bought into the game’s story so much that every strange but explainable occurrence would be rationalised as the next step in his favourite paranormal narrative.

Alternatively, the woman could have been an actor, a more elaborate theory sure, but not unheard of. People have lied to the show before and Rob was receiving a tonne of publicity for this attempt from Lilith, Eve and I. I admit, Rob didn't seem like a liar, but good liars never do.

There is a third alternative however. An alternative which, if you put logic aside, explains the all troubling little details that I couldn't help but notice. Because as strange as the grey woman was, isn't it stranger that no one on the street would react? I couldn't recall a single glance in her direction by anybody on the sidewalk. Perhaps that theory falls apart when you consider the shock on the mirror seller's face but, when I think about it, he only reacted once the mirror shattered, and even then, I feel like his attention was on the mirror itself.

The radio crackles.

LILITH: Lillith to Bristol. Sara... Eve got that on camera! Do you have audio?

AS: I think it picked her up.

LILITH: My god that was so weird. Can you send us the file when we stop? Can you ask Ferryman when we're stopping?

AS: When's our stopping point?

ROB: For them, in about 30 minutes. For you? Well, you tell me.

Rob turns off a busy street just before a large intersection, onto a much quieter stretch of two lane road. Ahead of us the road slopes downward, leading into an underpass, which disappears into darkness.

We'd arrived at the tunnel.

AS: What is this supposed to pass under?

ROB: Ain't supposed to pass under anything, it's just there.

AS: And if we weren't playing the game?

ROB: Then it won't show. The question is, are you playing the game or not?

Rob turns to me. It’s the first time he’s taken his eyes off the road since we started. He pulls the car to a slow stop at the mouth of the tunnel.

ROB: You get out now you can go wherever you wanna go, but through there you'll need a car to get yourself home and, like I said, mine ain't turnin round for a long while. You understand?

It’s a dramatic statement, but unsettlingly, it doesn’t feel like he’s attempting to dramatise. It feels like I’m having something genuinely asked of me. Am I ready for what’s to come? Do I accept the risks involved? Do I consent to be taken down this road, and the next road, and the next? Am I prepared to see this game through, real or otherwise, to its end?

AS: What are you waiting for?

Rob smiles, and turns back to the road. He picks up the CB radio holds down the button on the side. The microphone crackles.

ROB: This is Ferryman to all cars. Anyone want to step out then pull to the side now. Otherwise, stay in formation and have some supplies at hand. We got a long ways to go.

Much like the game I’m so tentatively playing, my view of Robert J. Guthard seems to change direction frequently. I’d heard all about his life, but I’m sure that I know him. I like the guy, but I’m not certain that I trust him. And though I admire his dedication to the Left/Right Game, I’m not sure I’ll like where it might lead us. Yet as he takes us into the tunnel, his face vanishing and reappearing under the dim sodium lights, I can that tell he expects this trip to be a major step in his already impressive story, and this time, for better or for worse, I’m along for the ride.

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Midnight Circus

☾pairing: Jungkook ♡→  reader ☾genre: Angst. Fluff. Mature content. badboy summer fling au ☾summary: "You're ten times hotter this summer, you know that?"

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | coming soon

There was always that rush of excitement when summer came—that feeling of freedom and the urge to run wild bursting at the seems. That's how it was for most people, not you. When the sun shines with no end was something entirely different for you. Summer meant no school, known of those fellow classmates or teachers on your back. Your lively classmates bubbled in anticipation of the bell, the one thing that would free them from this white tiled prison for months. Just one last ring and I'm outta here, you thought. When it finally came you giggled at the students who jumped out of their seats, mostly guys, they huddled together as if they'd just won the state championship. The teacher attempted to calm them but eventually gave up, who could blame them?

“Come on, Y/N!”

Your friends beckoned you to hurry up and follow them out the door, that was currently being bombarded with the whole class. There was no point in rushing, so you told them to go ahead with you. They only shook their heads. You were the resident ‘good girl’ of your group of friends—as good as a high school senior could get at least. As quickly as you could look up you were left in the empty classroom, you looked at the reminder the suddenly came up on your phone. You hadn't received your grade for a year yet so you waited around at the main office for them. Sitting on the bench outside, you waited patiently, looking through your phone until your teacher came out. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, here you go.” You stood up and grabbed the thin folder from her, flipping through it really quick to make sure it was yours. “Enjoy your summer- Oh and congratulations on your graduation.” 

“Thank you.” You two exchanged smiles before she scurried back to her office, anxious to leave this place. She was probably happier to be on summer break than the students in this school. If you had to deal with these terrors in a few months you would too, you had to sit in a classroom with them but she has to teach them. 

Striding down the hall, you looked over the paper, looking over your grades for the past year. One C out of a list of A’s. You glared down at the letter, one project with that delinquent nearly depleted your grade point average—you never forgave him for that and you weren't planning on it. A few steps and you were at your car, fumbling with your keys to open the car door. You dropped them on the pavement. Just as quickly as they fell you bent down to get it but you were stopped as an all too familiar black boot kicked it away. 

Jeon Jungkook. He quickly had your keys in his hands. You tried to snatch them back but he only gave you a smug grin as your cheeks were already reddening in frustration.

“What do you want.” You spat crossing your arms, eliciting a snort from him. 

Jungkook was what some would call a fuck-boy, a bad boy, a heartthrob; just to name a few. But you had other names for him, a waste of a good looking human being; in short. He did what he wanted and could care less if his stupid decisions affected you or anyone else—he loves himself with no shame whatsoever. His charming glances and charismatic ways of talking may have had everyone at his mercy but he wasn't fooling you—not for a second.

“Chill, I just wanted to wish you a good summer, what's the harm in that?” He said

Oh please, you wanted to wipe that grin right off of his face.

“Anytime you try to talk to me, you mean harm. Jungkook, I don't have time for this.” You attempted to snatch the keys once again but he blocked your attempts by putting his hands far from your reach. “Give me my keys back!” You crossed your arms, waiting for him to stop being childish and hand them over.

“Come on, are you serious?” He laughed. “Your panties are still in a bunch about that-...what was it again?” He tilted his head in thought, “'Collaborative project.” He signed quotation marks with his fingers.

“Since you obviously don’t have the best of memory, I'll remind you of what you did to me. While we were supposed to be finishing the project the night before. I had to finish it by myself. While you decided you'd go roof topping with your friends, on the school, during an open house—which, by the way, has to be one of the stupidest ideas you've ever had. You could've been arrested, not that I would care.” You huffed, already feeling yourself getting heated by the combination of the pounding sun and your rising anger. He was sporadic and impulsive, he said what he was thinking and went with the moment—all the time, and it was annoying. 

“But did I get caught? No, I didn't- And you were a doll for keeping your lips shut about it, babe.” He tapped the bottom of your chin and you jerked back, smacking his hand away. You hated when he'd call you that, it was a nickname he came to like because of one incident. There was a tornado warning in the area, when it touched down you sat in the corner of the room, you closed your ears he could've sworn he saw tears.

The day before the due date you got hit with a bad virus and couldn't take in the project so you gave the responsibility to him—bad idea, a horrifyingly bad idea. He never came to your house to pick it up—he didn't even go to school that day, your teacher was convinced that Jungkook got you to skip school until you explained to her that you were bedridden. To this day, you still don't know where he went, and you really don't care anymore.

“I kept my lips shut because I wasn't going through that for you. When I texted you to tell you I was sick, and politely asked you to pick up the project and turn it in you left me on read! And never freaking showed up. Honestly, how rude can someone be...” 

“Ok, and? You stress over every fucking little thing, it was one project.” He retorted, those distinct eyebrows taunting you with every little facial quirk. You snatched the keys from his hand, getting into your car and slamming the door. 

He knocked on the window—your stupid self actually lets it down. 

“What.” Your hands firmly on the wheel as you were getting ready to pull out.

“You never gave me back my headphones, the ones I left at your place. I need them back.” You had to laugh, you know he doesn't think your just gonna hand over his stuff after all the things he's put you through. He's not entitled to anything that has to do with you.

You had something he wanted. You smirked, the tables have finally turned. 

“Ah, you mean the black ones with the blue on the sides?” He nodded, “Yeah, no, I don't know what you're talking about, you must be thinking about another girls house, I know you probably lose count.” You cooed, close-lipped grinning like the petty person you were.

“I know you have them, quit being petty and hand them over.” His attempt to push you into a corner was working to him but in reality, it was failing miserably.

“Now I’m definitely not giving them to you, even if I did have them, which I don’t, you won’t be seeing them anytime soon.” You could tell by the way his tongue protruded against his cheek, he wasn’t happy with you. You assumed he would escalate the argument but he only laughed, you frowned. “Why are you laughing?”

“None of your damn business.” With that, he walked back to where he left from and you willed yourself not to pay him any mind. You get a whole three months free of him, annoying classmates and the school in general. 

Life is looking pretty good right about now.

| 1 Month later |

You sat on the back porch, phone in your hand and a glass of flavored sparkling water at arms reach. So far you've proclaimed your own stay-cation, your parents are going on a cruise soon and you'll be joining them. Some of your friends went off on vacation to Fuji or some tropical paradises, you'd be out of this place in time. Your thumb moved up to read the long work of fiction—you were deep, feeling as if you were living everything described around the heroine. Screech.

 The sound of the sliding glass door prompted you to change the tabs and look back at whoever interrupted your peace and quiet. 

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Jennie strolled her way over to you and sat in the chair across from you.

“Enjoying my relaxation.” You sipped your drink slouching back with a heavy sigh of content.

“Well,” Her hands on her hips as she stood tall, “go pack your bags, you're going with me tomorrow.” 

“What? Going with you where?”

“Do you remember me telling you my aunt and uncle own a huge campground?” You nodded with a suspicious eye. 

“They're letting me bring a few friends to stay for a couple of weeks, you're parents said it was ok if you came.” The smile on her face was one you knew all too well—she really, really wanted you to go, no was the last thing she wanted to hear.

“Thank you for thinking of me but I really don't think-”

“Don't worry sweetheart,” Your mother stood at the door and at the sight of her you realized your chances of getting out of this were demolished, “she'll be there, I know you guys will have a great time.” You cut your gaze to her, glaring at her like she had the plague.

“Perfect! We'll come to pick you up tomorrow evening!” Jennie jumped in excitement, giving your mother a quick hug before skipping out the front door in a singsong hum. There was nothing she wanted more this summer but you in the other hand—have a few choice words for a certain someone for getting you into this. 

“I don't want to go. I'll stay home if you guys don't want me to go on the cruise...” You brought your phone back up to your face. “I'm not going.”

“Don't give me that Y/N, you need to have fun with people your age. You're going and I don't wanna hear anything else about it.” She walked into the house, closing the sliding doors like she's won something.

You couldn't help be sulk—you packed while muttering to yourself. How could she do this? She knew you were excited to be going on a cruise and getting away for a while and now she's sending you off to some camp she doesn't even know anything about. There was nothing fun about being forced to have fun, going to some campground with a bunch of people doesn't sound that great to you. There was one bright side to going to this place, you'd be far away from Jeon Jungkook. You managed to avoid him this long and now you get to flee the city without him harassing you every chance he gets.

Searching through the towel closet you finally found your traveling toiletries bag at the very top with several over travel items. You ran to get your phone as it rang obnoxiously loud—you left the dang ringer on.

“Hello?” 

“Hey! Are you packing?” It was Jennie.

“Uh, yeah what's up?” If you were honest, since it was so late you weren't really even that interested.

“You know Beah’s acting partner?”

You sat at your drawers, pulling out every swimsuit you own and shoving them in your bag. “Not personally...but yeah, I know of him.” 

“Well I told him, him and some of the friends could come since there's so much room at our unit and do you know who he invited?” By the sound of her voice, this could be really good or really bad.

“Who?...” Don't let it be Jungkook, don't let it be Jungkook, don't let it be Jungkook...

“Jimin, Park Jimin, can you believe it? I don't know if I can do it, Y/N. He's just so perfect, you know?” Park Jimin, he was every girl’s crush at least once; you were a little excited to know Jimin was coming too—even though he was friends with Jungkook he was always so nice to you, he was nice to everyone actually. Come to think of it, all of his friends were nice to you—it was him that had issues.

“Wow, do you know who else?” You pressed, wondering if any other heartthrob would be surrounding you this summer.

“Yeah, I think-” You could hear her mothers muffled voice calling her from over the phone. “Sorry, I gotta go but I'll see you tomorrow, bye.” And she hung up. Way to leave you on a cliffhanger.

“This won't be all bad...” You thought aloud, zipping your suitcase case and setting near your room door. Jennie knew you weren't as easy to just get up and go, especially if you've never even been to this place so you knew she was happy you were coming and deep down inside you were kind of happy to go—deep down.

They decided to leave early, just to rub it in my face. 

“Call us when Jennie comes to get you, we'll tell you when the boat leaves.” Your mother started up the car as your dad filled the trunk with luggage. You stood at the front door, waving goodbye as the car took them away. 

You had nothing to do but wait, so you went back inside kicked up your feet and turned on the tv. A few minutes went by and you were out, you stayed up for a few hours to pack and the lack of sleep is getting to you. Your eyelids were heavy, your head rested on the head of the couch and just as you were about to sleep your phone buzzed.

Don't answer—I wonder who I gave that contact name.

You looked at it, when Jungkook tries to reach you it's either for one of your friend's numbers(which you never give him) or you never really know what he wants. But for some reason, you assumed out of boredom, you answered it.

“Hello?”

“Who is this?”

“What the heck? You called me-”

“Just kidding, are you home?”

You sneered, “Um, if I was I wouldn't tell you.”

“You're literally always home.” He snorted.

“I don't know why I even answered, bye.” You were about to hang up but he stopped you.

“No, wait, I wanted to tell you how much of a shitty person you are for stealing my personal property. My brother is pissed too, they're actually his.” He lied straight through his teeth, grinning on the other end of the phone. “I had to tell him they were being held hostage by you, so if the cops show up at your-”

“You're a terrible liar, goodbye Jungkook.” You hung up, he was unbelievable.

A sudden knock on your door signaled that it was time to leave the comfort of your home. You opened the door to be greeted by a smiling face. “Are you excited?” Jennie asked, helping you with your bags, tossing them in the trunk with her own luggage.

“Uh, sure.” That wasn't very convincing, but Jennie knew you didn't want to go originally so she only giggled at your response. You hopped in the passenger's seat, tossing your purse to the floor and automatically reclining. “How far away is this place?”

“About 2 hours.” Lifting a red bull to her lips she sipped momentarily before focusing on the road. Two hours was the perfect amount of time for a nap, she continued to talk about what activities were at the campground and you tried to listen but before you knew it you were knocked out.

“We're here.” She announced. You groggily rubbed your eyes sleepily, looking out your window to see a beautiful spring and little cabins along the side. Your hand went to your sore neck and you stretched, you could already tell you liked it here. It was 20 minutes until sunset—the sun sat just right atop the water.

“Ah, I use to come here every summer when I was a kid, the sleeping bags, the campfire, the hikes, the off campground field trips, I loved it.” She smiled at the thought, pulling into the parking space as you saw a car still unpacking. Beah, Naeun, and her sister Nayeon were arguing over which cabin was ours.

“It's cabin 127!” Nayeon persisted, pointing to the cabin.

“I don't think so.” Naeun sat on the curb eating from a bag of pretzels as Beah continued to drag the luggage out of the trunk.

“Can you guys get your stuff? I need to lock the car- Y/N! You came.” Beah ran over to you and gave you a big hug. 

“Yep, I did.” You nodded as she finally let you go, going back to the car to grab her bags. “I see you guys packed light.” You sarcastically laughed, you saw at least 3 extra bags in the backseat and you could only assume they were Naeun’s.

“You have to be prepared.” Naeun adjusted her shorts as she stood up from the curve, going to grab her luggage. “Which cabin are we in Jen?”

“127, right next to 117 where the boys are staying.” At the remembrance of who else would be joining us all of them erupted in giddy laughter. “Oh my gosh I forgot about them, I think they're lost, they should've been here an hour ago they left before us. Here's the key, you guys can unpack while I wait for them.” She reached into her pocket to toss you the key and to get her phone out, she pressed a contact before placing it up to her ear.

“Where are you guys?” 

“We had to make a rest stop but we just pulled in the campgrounds, where we supposed to go?” 

“Tell the woman at the front desk you're here with Jennie at cabin 127 and 117, she's my aunt so she'll know who you're talking about.”

With your bags in hand, you unlocked the door to the spacious unit, there was one set of bunk beds, two single beds In the large space and the living room had a pullout sofa. You didn't want the sofa but you would consider it for the view of the water since the unit was a bit elevated you could see all the lights of the other cabins switch on.

“I call dibs on the couch,” Nayeon announced, tossing her sleeping bag towards the couch.

“Beah, we'll take the single beds. That leaves you and Jennie with the bunks unless you guys want it the other way around.” Naeun continued to make her way towards the room and you opted for the bottom bunk. You sat your luggage next near the nightstand and threw yourself back on the bed, immediately trying to find the wifi server—no bars.

You sighed, jumping out of bed so you could go ask Jennie how to get wifi out here but when you walked on the side she was at the other cabin giving Jin the keys. You timidly walked over past the fire pit to see Jin and Namjoon. 

“Jin, Joonie!” Nayeon ran up to both of them giving them both a hug, they were like the big brothers of the group. Yoongi was on vacation with his family and so was Hoseok, so they couldn’t come.

“Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming.” Namjoon pulled out his and Jin's luggage, smiling at you showing those beautiful dimples.

You smiled, “Yeah, I decided last minute.” 

“Decided? Your mom literally forced you.” Jennie giggled, pushing at your shoulder teasingly. You frowned, crossing your arms and muttering a whatever. The rest of them picked up a conversation as you saw another car in the distance. 

“Y/N can you grab my purse from the nightstand then we can grab dinner at the burger place down the road, we'll have campfire dinner tomorrow.” You nodded, going back inside to grab both hers and yours.

When you walked back outside you were met with a car full of boys. 3 to be precise.

Time stopped, when you saw Jimin step out of the car and you could see he hasn't changed a bit. His angelic face, his breathtaking figure, it made your heart skip a beat, he was always so perfect to you.

“Hey everyone, sorry we're late we had to stop by the convenience store for snacks.” He laughed, pushing his hair from his face and closing his door.

“That's okay,” Naeun smiled, “We're about to grab dinner so you guys are just in time.” Naeun was an open book, you could tell she had some plans involving him already.

“Sweet,” Taehyung ran to the trunk to grab his suitcase, “we’ll put our stuff in the cabin really quick. Jungkook gets your stuff.” 

Jungkook? He lazily slung those stupidly toned legs (that looked illegal in the jeans he was wearing) out of the back seat and you were the first person he made eye contact with—you mirrored each other with equally confused expression.

You walked closer, just to ensure that it was really him and you couldn't believe it—you're eyes weren't deceiving you.

“You?” He didn't know what else to say, stretching his arms to get the sleep off of them.

Happiness wasn't the first emotion thought of when you saw him either, “This is great.” There was sarcasm in your tone as the rest of the girls couldn't help but glancest the scene between you and Jungkook. “Here I thought I'd have a relaxing vacation.” I might as well forget any chances with Jimin if he was in the way.

“Trust me, you weren't the only one.” He easily lifted his luggage out of the trunk, him being the only one of the three still outside. “I thought you were on your way to the islands with your folks.” He chuckled, knowing your mother told him the other night and that's how he acquired the information.

“I had a change of plans- wait, how'd you know about the cruise?” You questioned. Before you could get a response he went inside with his bags, still rude as hell, you thought.

The night continued like that, you were trying to get over the fact that you'd be spending multiple days on the same land with him. Everybody else was having a good time though, Taehyung and Jimin were having a lively conversation about who has better ping pong skills with Naeun and Nayeon. They were really similar to each other. Namjoon, Jin, Beah, and Jennie were laughing over a hilarious story Jin was telling. But there were two people eating their burgers and fries like an angry couple.

“Ow!” You winced, someone kicked your ankle with enough force to make your leg jerk up. You glared at him—why'd you have to sit across from him... 

“You're hogging the ketchup.” Your eyes went to the bottle of ketchup and you frowned—he was so childish.

“No, I'm not,” You tilted the bottle to get some on the side of your plate, “I just picked it up.” When you sat it down he took it. The red substance dripped onto his plate, clashing with a few his fries left on his plate. You watched as he piled the sauce onto his fries and a little bit of his burger, and shoved it into his mouth. You took your time finishing your food all while trying to join in the others conversation.

“Yeah, I had to stop for a few months because of my back injury but I'm better now.” Jimin gave an explanation for his absence at Naeun’s dance studio. You use to dance at the same studio when you were younger but when you moved you changed hobbies a little. Jungkook was observing the way you looked at Jimin, you'd blush and stammer when he'd talk to you and he grimaced at the sight. He scoffed to himself as the salt and pepper were right next to you, you were so stingy with condiments. 

“Pass the pepper.” Another kick to your ankle and you had enough.

“What is your problem? Its right there just grabs it.” You hissed, kicking him back for once, causing Tae to look at you guys weird.

“Other than the fact that you’re being a bitch, nothing, I don’t have a problem.” He muttered, shaking the pepper onto his ketchup.

“Excuse me? You're the one kicking me like a 5-year-old and asking me for stuff that's right in front of you, you're doing this on purpose.” You groaned, sitting back with crossed arms.

“It's not right in front of me, and being the gentleman I am I wasn't gonna reach over your food.” By the way, he eyed you it was obvious he was asking for a fight but it was the first day, you weren't giving into to him.

“Oh please, you don't care about reaching over my food, you just want to annoy me.” This time I'm not gonna listen to anything he has to say, I'm the bigger person here. Ignore him.

“There were only two of the shirts but Naeun insisted we needed another one so she and Y/N-”

“Shut up Nayeon!” All Nayeon could do was laugh at her sister's immediate defensiveness, everyone at the table especially Jungkook was curious about how you were involved in getting this shirt.

“How'd you get the shirt?” Taehyung asked causing her to glare at him.

“Yeah, I'm a little curious myself,” Jimin added, and the rest of the boys looked at Naeun for her part on the story.

“Come on Naeun, It was months ago, I'll tell them.” Jennie cleared her throat, leaning in to tell the story, “So, our favorite band was in town and they had limited edition shirts it the concert. When we tried to order them they were all sold out, but my brother knew someone who sold the leftover shirts really cheap. So I asked Naeun and Y/N to ride out to get them, by the way, he lived in the straight up wilderness so it took forever to find him- but anyway, when we pulled up I told Naeun and Y/N to go get the shirt just in case we needed a quick getaway-”

“Let me tell the rest!” Naeun butted in, eager to continue the story from her perspective. “When the guy came out he told us to come in inside while he gets the ‘stuff’, so we're waiting inside right and Y/N was like, ‘it smells like weed in here’-” She started to laugh as she approached the height of the story and you saw Jungkook found this story rather amusing.

“That's when you grabbed the shirt, put the money on his coffee table and next thing I know you're dragging me out the door, he's running after us and you tell Jennie he's got a gun.” 

“Which freaked the hell out of me so I broke the speed limit by at least 20 miles to get out of there!” Giggling like everyone else at the table. “Later we found out that he thought we were the middleman for one of his new ‘clients’. Basically, he thought we were there for weed.” You remember that like it was yesterday, the three of you had never feared for your lives more that day than ever. Everyone laughed gleefully, having a good time comparing similarly weird circumstances as you all walked out of the diner. Jungkook began to get in on the conversation, cracking jokes and fooling around with the guys so you were free from that.

As you all went back to the cabins, a certain someone came to walk beside you. 

“It's a beautiful night, isn't it?” You had never seen anyone walk with such charisma, his hands rested comfortably in his pockets.

“Yeah, it's nice...” You nodded, enjoying every second of this short conversation.

“I'm gonna hit the sack, goodnight guys...” Taehyung sleepily went into the cabin and sadly Jimin followed behind him, wishing everyone else a goodnight. Soon everyone trickled into the cabins but how waited for Jennie to get the extra blankets from her aunt. The sky was full of stars tonight, it was something you don't see in the city every day, it was stunning. If you weren't so sleepy you'd stay out longer so you could stare up at the sky, that would be a perfect way to end an evening. 

“Huh, a good girl like you knowing what weed smells like,” Jungkook walked over to you, his hands in his pockets, “you learn something new every day I guess.” 

You shifted your weight on your feet, crossing your arms instinctively from that. “What do you want Jungkook.”

“It's not about what I want.” He quirked his brow, hinting at what he meant. 

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Clearing his throat momentarily he couldn't resist the urge to tease you. “I saw the way you were looking at Jimin earlier, you can't hide it can you?” 

Suddenly you stopped breathing, you glared at him hard, your cheeks flushed but luckily they were hidden by the darkness. “I don't know what you're talking about, Jimin is just a friend...”

“No? Well, you were practically fucking drooling over him.” He snickered.

“I was not...” He over exaggerates everything.“Shouldn't you be in your cabin?” You quipped. 

“Oh Y/N,” He tried to pat your shoulder but you swatted his hand away, “you're secret is safe with me babe, I won't tell him, not now at least.” He bid you farewell with the wave of his hand and without a word you left him, deciding you didn't have to listen to his crap any further. 

The girls were finishing up the shower process when you entered the cabin. How could someone be some bothersome, he literally couldn't stand seeing you mind your own business. He was like that since preschool, he ruined anything good for you. You slipped on your pajama shirt and pantsuit after your shower and threw yourself on the bed.

“Y/N? You left me outside.” Jennie walked in with an arm full of blankets, tossing it on the couch for Nayeon.

“Jungkook was out there...” You rolled your eyes and she got the message.

“Oh,” She drew out the oh, “I saw you guys had a little argument at the dinner, what was that about?”

“You know we don't get along.”

“Yeah, but you guys can set your differences aside for the sake of everyone else for once. I'll be honest, Jungkook is hot, you guys might find out you really don't hate each other that much and hook up or something-”

“Not in this lifetime.” You got into your covers and yawned. "Goodnight."

You and Jungkook were like fire and water, polar opposites. It would take a miracle to change that.

[ratuvictoria]

Suicide: How To Survive (part 2)

If you are going through a difficult time in your life, please remove the suicide option from your list of solution. This phase you're going through isn't easy, I know. But you'll get through this too, I promise. Meanwhile, there are things you can do, actually. Keep following here: 1. Get Outta There! If wherever you are makes you feel stuck, get out! Anything that keeps you from happiness, get rid of it! You deserve to be happy, to enjoy life, to be loved. And if you've been this introverted person who doesn't go out or just closing yourself off from others, that needs to be changed. Going out can make such difference, because our house/room is bordered with (at least) four walls and sometimes it keeps us from being positive. This can also means to quit a job, quit a negative circle of friends, quit things that don't work out for you. You are the captain of your vessel and you have every right to determine which are the best things for you. Stop listening to those comments or complaints they attack you with. Stop following the tight diet and extra fashion rules that make you feel even more unpretty than ever. Stop watching the news if that bothers your head and disturbs your peace. Stop consuming the alcohol/drugs because all they do is creating illusion and temporal excitement for you. They don't solve your problems and you're just running away of what you're supposed to face with. Stop it. You need to figure out all the negative aura around you and start avoiding it. Just leave. (This doesn't mean to leave your responsibility!) 2. Seek God Although I'm not always religious, the feeling of knowing that there is a Superior being watching over you can help a lot. I was taught to see God as a father figure, so it really helped me feeling close to my God. I dunno what religion/faith you are, but you can always create a figure if you don't like all the existing ones. Seek for God. Try find it by attending mass/prayers, listening to religious teachings, reading the holy scriptures, and discussing it with the people around--find at least 10 teachers so you can get better image of God. Sometimes people seek God in the wrong places (watch this movie). And today it's not really that easy to find God. There are so many teachings, religions, sects. I 'found' God from church and books. It's not just from the religious books but also from other books. I read everything, especially about spirituality. I don't know which one suits you better because each of us has different ways and capability. But to me, it's deliberating to know that we have such hope for a better ending, But what's most important is that you try all methods before giving up just because of a little disappointment that things don't turn out the way you expected it. You need to understand that God works in different way than what we know. Unlike in school, God put test first, lessons later. So don't lose faith, keep on going, just move forward, and one day you'll see what's all that fussy are about. 2. Seek friends I know friends is not easy to find. You may have 1000 friends on Facebook, but zero in real life. I am a social but timid person. I have so many acquaintances but only several I call friends--whom I go to whenever I feel most depressed. It's true when they say friends can make life a little bit less stressful. A problem shared can instantly lighten up your burden. So find a friend and share things with them (but don't rely on them to make you happy because they're also human and you can't depend on human no matter how special they are for you.) I met my best friends when I was 26 years old, after I lost my father and dumped by my boyfriend (who promised a marriage months before). In the midst of my despair, two girls showed up and proved their friendship by being there for me, support me, and . Cheryl and Rachelle were the very first girls I call my best friends. When I moved to Bali when I was 28, another one showed up. Her name's Ana (tho I knew her for 10 years already that time). Hardships really meant to filter things for you. The good ones stay, the rest will be gone. So if you haven't found a true friend now, don't worry. It's not that you've traveled the world to seek one, right? Your best friend might be there already, only you're too busy to notice him/her. Just keep looking for them. You may need more than one friend in life, because sometimes there are everyone for different reasons--it's okay. Just have someone around, at least.  And if you don't have any, you can always contact me. My socmed accounts are applied everywhere on this blog. Feel free to talk to me if you need it! 3. Seek for shelter It's like building a fortress to hide every time the depression attacks. I seek for shelter in music. Listening to calming indie music makes my brain relaxes and my tense loosen up, especially as a lullaby before getting to sleep, because depression comes mostly at nights, like the monster under the bed.  If things become so unbearable, I seek greater protection (read: distraction) by watching movies. We're lucky that movie streaming and cable TV program are much easier to access nowadays. I watch mostly comedies to wash away any negativity and feeling much better after that. Avoid melodramatic romance flicks or European indie movies if you're feeling depressed because it could make things worse. Seek for anything fun and upbeat to at least make your aura clearer.  Build yourself this 'runaway' thing you can do every time you feel desperate, just to distract your mind from the desperation and to find excitement to this life again. This can be anything, but to me listening to music and watching movies are the easiest to do especially when you're home alone. 4. Seek love It's not about finding someone to love or to date, but about finding the love for yourself. This isn't an easy task, because to some people we are our own greatest critic. We often feel like we're not enough, unloved, and unwanted. Most of time we fall for the negativity--it's easier to take. But we must fight it. Seek for positivity instead! We learn from Frozen the movie, that fear makes everything worse, and love is always the answer. Love is hard to explain and sometimes be mistaken with lust or obsession. Love it way greater than that. Love is about receiving all the blessings and compassion from our surroundings, receiving what God has given us. Love is all about accepting who we are, all our flaws and mistakes, our body shape and its imperfection, and be grateful about it. Love is letting go and moving on. Love is having the faith. Love is the 'even though', not the 'because of'. Love is all about accepting, not expecting. Love is about being grateful and thankful. Love is about giving, not taking. Love is all that, and more! Remember that Pooh said to Piglet: "If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together... there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart... I'll always be with you." (A.A. Milne) 5. Seek for purpose & motivation Most of us don't know why we are born. Mark Twain said: “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” So don't stop until you find out the answer to why you are born to this world. And not stopping there, you gotta go on until you fulfill that purpose, and find more whys along the way. I find Pinterest as the best place to seek for motivation whenever I lack of it. Reading those encouraging quotes could really brainwash you to be a positive person. Another option is joining mailing list, group, motivational seminars, or anything that can bring you positive energy. Avoid being alone. I know how being alone can really lead to thoughts of suicidal. Even until now I still get desperate at nights, especially when I have no one around. It's not that you can't be alone, but if your mind is still full of negative thoughts, hang around with energetic people can help. They said 'fake it until you make it', and so must you. Train your mind to think positive until one day it works automatically.  Making short-term goals is also a method to distract our depression. Make long-term goal in life and short ones to make it easier for you to achieve it. And once you accomplish something, give a little reward to yourself for appreciation. It may look cheesy, but your soul and subconscious mind will thank you. Build yourself around this self-appreciation that will eventually build your self-confidence. You can do it!

via blogspot

If you're reading this and still feeling unworthy, don't stop here. It's not an instant thing. Everything in life must go through a process and you are in a process too. Below are more encouraging quotes to help you go through this moment. Bear with me here:

Never compare yourself to others.

Believe that you are enough.

Never set your standard too high. Be easy on yourself.

But don't sell yourself to other's standard.

Be flexible.

But have your grounds and don't let others dictate you.

You are the captain of your life.

You have control over this life.

But there are things you can't control. Accept that.

Remember that everything happens for a reason. If it happens, it has the reasons.

Know that we can't control what happens for us, but we can control how we react to it.

Know that sometimes things can get out of control and it's okay.

Nothing and nobody is perfect.

Accept your flaws.

It's okay to make mistakes, as long as we don't dwell in it.

Know that what matters is how we fix things.  

Avoid melancholy, depressing songs.

Avoid any self-pitying songs.

Listen to a more calming, relaxing music.

Listen to an energetic, upbeat music.

Read books.

Be active in an organization.

Be part of a movement.

Learn to dance.

Move your body and do that workout.

You don't have to fit in the society.

You are who you are. Don't try to be someone else you're not.

You are unique. Embrace that.

Give something to those who are in need.

Remember that we are not tested for more than we can endure.

Remember that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.

Know that worrying doesn't solve anything.

Know that true warriors face their problems, not runaway from it.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start doing something about that.

Stop acting like you are a victim of a situation and grab control over it.

Don't believe everything you think at night.

Not everything you hear is true.

Never beg for love, affection, or attention. If it isn't given freely, it isn't worth having.

Someone who really loves you will fight and do anything to be with you.

Forgive yourself. Again, and again, and again. Do it until you find that peace.

Let things go. Sometimes it can make your burden lighter.

Move on. The past is dead, and all we can do is move forward.

Brainwash yourself with encouraging quotes before sleep.

Practice yoga in the morning and set goals for each day.

Do good deeds. Helping people out can make you feel better.

Remember that your story isn't finished. You are still in the process of making.

God has a plan for you. Trust Him.

Your parents do love you no matter what. Send them love today!

Don't wait to be loved. Love first, and you'll be amazed at what you get.

We have the free will.

But everything in life has its own consequences.

Nobody can hurt you unless you let them to.

Anyone trying to bring you down is already below you.

If you feel injustice, it's not your fault. It means you have to learn to stand up for yourself.

Speak up.

Sometimes you don't get the closure. Not for now, but you will. Just keep going.

You are responsible for how you act, no matter how you feel.

Not everything you feel is permanent.

Time will heal.

There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of trial and error.

You can say NO without giving an explanation.

You deserve to be happy.

Happiness is a state of mind.

The comeback is always stronger than the setback. Take your time.

You are capable.

You owe no one to prove anything to. Just do your thing, ignore the others.

It's not easy, but it's not impossible either.

Never regret something that once made you smile.

Surround yourself with people who push you to be your best self.

Know when to quit something.

Some things have to finish to allow something else to start. And it is always a better one.

Travel. It will open your mind.

Take that vacation offer. You deserve it.

Learn something new everyday.

Go someplace new every once in a while. It doesn't have to be far. Just new.

Know your worth. (Then add tax.)

You are special. There is no other person like you. You are someone's favourite!

Eat that cake. You don't have to stay in a diet that makes you suffer.

Train your mind to think happy thoughts.

Smile. It's contagious!

Remember my friend, you are loved!

I will keep updating this list, feel free to copy-paste and do anything to keep yourself motivated. Do comment if you have something good to share. Let's spread the love and positivity!

*) Main image was taken from Pinterest

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