#and i imagine it being a strange square to circle if your most recent image of him is that one kid from across town you went to school with

[incomprehensi-bull]

somewhat fascinated recently by the idea of layton's old stansbury friends learning more about him as they get back in touch post-MM and having to try and connect the dots between "hershel layton, 17" and "hershel layton, 37". cuz, like

imagine your (ex)friend skips town and that's the last you hear of him for 18 years. you remember him as a generally nice young man, and sure, you left off on a bad note, but you have no reason to believe that he's prone to anything more than some occasional snark and a mild tendency to snatch small items*

and then Events Happen, and he's back in your life now, and it becomes gradually and increasingly clear to you that you really, REALLY don't know him the way you used to. he has a distrust of the police and government that's entirely too personal, he's better at lying than you'd expect from someone who claims to be morally opposed to it, you learn eventually that he's on a first name basis with a known notorious criminal, and, uh, hey, hershel, you seem way more comfortable with weird machinery and loose explosives than i remember, what's up with that**

*operating under the assumption that the collection minigame is entirely diegetic because it's fun to do so ** in order, see: unwound future, lots of moments throughout the games, unwound future again, every instance of puzzles where layton is digging around in machinery and/or prompted to take out obstacles with explosives that are just, like, laying around? once again under the assumption that it's diegetic, because it's fun to do so

[itsjustmyfantasyroom]

Unlikely Lovers Chapter Six

And here we are half way through @beccabarba and my Nick series. Thank you for the support and positivity we have received we love this series so much. 

Warning: This one is a bit of everything. Dirty talk, F/M masturbation, little angry Nick, sub!Nick, bit of tying up and just general smut.  

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Incase you needed to catch up :) Also not planned, this one fits into the Masturbation square for @thatesqcrush summer bing

WC: 3850

Enjoy x

You decided to tell your friends in the squad first, to get used to talking about your relationship, before you told Liv officially. When you told Amanda, over drinks, she grinned and shook her head in disbelief.

“Y’all kept this from me. When did it start?” She turned her blue eyes on you. “Wait, it was that movie night, wasn’t it? When I couldn’t make it? Oh god, guys, that was weeks ago. And you know, I suspected something right away, but when you were so quiet about it, I thought I must be wrong! All this time…”

“Sorry,” Nick said with a little shrug, his hand on yours.

“Y’know, Fin said he thought you two had something. Ages ago. And I told him it wasn’t likely, you two? Nothing in common.” Amanda looked between you.

“I guess we found something,” you said, with a grin.

Amanda laughed. “I’ll just bet you did.”

You blushed at her tone. “More than just that,” you said, raising your eyebrows and trying not to meet Nick’s eye.

“Well, I’m happy for you. As long as you don’t make me feel like a third wheel at movie night,” she said.

“Cheers to that,” Nick replied, lifting his drink. “Keep quiet about it until I’m back from LA? That’s when we’re going to make it official.”

Amanda clinked her bottle against his, and nodded her understanding.

Nick’s departure for LA came around far too soon for your liking. You were very happy with the idea of meeting both Zara and Gil by video call, but you had to admit you were a bit nervous about Nick seeing not one, but two of his former partners. You were certain he was over Maria, but you were not entirely sure how he felt about Cynthia, and you didn’t like to press him for explanations. Not that you thought he still had feelings for her; you just weren’t sure how seeing them all would affect him on his return. He could be moody, prone to dwell on his misfortunes, and you’d enjoyed the way the weight had seemed to lift off him recently. You also knew he missed his kids and had definitely considered a move out to California on more than one occasion. You didn’t want to see yourself as in competition with them.

When you’d said goodbye in the early morning, before he jumped in an Uber to JFK for a 7am flight, he’d sensed your tension.

“Hey,” he said, tilting your chin so you were looking into his eyes. “I can’t wait for you to meet Zara and Gil. They’re going to love you. Maybe next time you can fly out there with me?”

You smiled. “I’d love that. But I don’t want to intrude, Nick. The kids, Maria and Cynthia, that’s a whole other part of your life…”

He stroked your head. “I love you, Y/N. You’re part of my life now too. And I’m not going to suddenly see them and not care about you, if that’s what’s making you look so worried.” He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead softly. “I’ll miss you every day. And we’ll video call every night. Okay?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yes. I’ll miss you too. And I’m not worried, not really… I love you.”

“We’ll talk before you go to sleep?” he said.

“Of course,” you gave him another kiss, before he climbed into the car and you waved him off. You prided yourself on being independent, not needing anyone. But you had to admit to yourself that the idea of Nick being on the other side of the country made your heart ache.

It was 11pm in New York, and 8pm in Los Angeles. You’d been texting all day, just keeping in touch. Nick had gone straight from the airport to spend the afternoon with Zara, and Cynthia and Gil were heading up from San Diego the following day. You knew he was safe and happy, but tired after the flight, planning to sleep early. So, you were both already settled in bed when you picked up your phone to call him via FaceTime.

When the call connected, your screen was filled with Nick’s face and bare shoulders. He was clearly sitting in a hotel bed, leaning back against a beige fabric headboard, shirtless and with a shadow of stubble along his jaw. You couldn’t help a huge smile at seeing him, your heart flooding with warmth, and a throb of arousal pulsing through you. Seeing him looking at you from a screen was just a reminder of how handsome he was. You watched the smile spread over his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Hey, querida,” he said warmly.

“Hey, yourself.” You grinned, looking into his eyes through the camera. “Miss you.”

“Miss you too,” he said. “Really, more than I knew I would. It’s not even twenty-four hours yet…”

“It was strange not seeing you at work – or after work,” you added. Then you gave him a wicked smile. “But I need to know something…”

“Yes?” he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

“Are you naked, Nick Amaro?”

His face broke into a huge smile, and he glanced down. “No, I’m wearing boxers and I’m under the duvet,” he replied. You could picture his body so clearly.

“Shame.”

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Might do. But we should catch up…”

“Nothing to catch up on. I texted you everything, and I’m not doing anything new until tomorrow. All there is to do now is spend time with you, and sleep…” Even though the screen, his eyes felt as though they were burning into yours. So much emotion and arousal. “If I was there, we wouldn’t be sleeping…”

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling the heat sweep through you. “So, what would we be doing?”

“I’d be kissing you and running my hands all over you,” his voice had dropped into a seductive whisper. “I’d be enjoying every curve…kissing your neck, just where you like it…” As he spoke, you could imagine exactly how it would feel.

“You know about that?” you said, in a breathy tone.

“I know all the places you want to be touched…and kissed…” he replied, and it sent a shiver through your body.

“I wish you could show me…” almost unconsciously, your fingers traced a path down your body, rubbing over your own nipples, down over your skin, to press between your thighs where you wanted him the most.

“When I get back, I will. Over and over. I won’t be able to keep my hands off you…” You were looking into his eyes in the screen, seeing the change in his face as he grew more aroused.

“Are you touching yourself, Nick?” you asked, even as your fingers teased in circles around your clit.

“What if I am? Are you?”

“I am,” you confessed. “I’m thinking of that big cock of yours, and how I want it in my mouth…”

Now Nick groaned. “I’m so hard for you, Y/N,” he breathed into the phone. You could see his movements.

“I’m so wet for you…” you replied. “Want to see?” You didn’t wait for an answer before you moved the phone down your body, giving him a view of where your fingers were teasing through your slick folds. The idea of him watching only increased your arousal.

“Mmm, yes, good girl,” Nick said in deep tones. Your breathing came faster and harder, as you moved the phone back up to your face.

“Your turn,” you said, giving him a naughty smile. He raised his eyebrows. “Please?” you added, your tone cheeky.

Nick nodded, and you watched the camera trail down over his toned abdomen, saw his boxers now pulled low, his free hand working his erection. You licked your lips at the sight. “I love your big cock,” you told him. “I want it filling my mouth…”

“When I get home, gonna fuck your face…” he groaned.

“Threat or a promise?” you managed. Your fingers, and his words were driving you closer, as he turned the camera back to his face, and you looked into his eyes, imagining his hands and eyes on you, thinking of that hand on his cock. Your orgasm was building quickly, the coil winding tighter.  

“Ohh, Nick…” you moaned.

“Going to come for me, querida?” he said, and you could hear how close he was from the strain in his tone.

“Yes…yes…” you managed.

“I’m going to come for you, Y/N,” he said, urgently. The idea of it was what sent you over the edge, breathing out his name as the pleasure burst through you.

“Mierda, Y/N,” you heard through the phone, as Nick let go, the image on the screen suddenly blurring as he dropped it, and you found yourself looking at the hotel room ceiling as you recovered, stroking yourself through the little aftershocks of pleasure.

Eventually, his face filled the screen again, a wide smile on his lips. “Even from the opposite coast, you’re amazing, Y/N,” he said.

“You too.” You put your fingers to your lips and blew him a kiss. “I really miss you…”

“You just miss my body,” he teased.

“That’s part of what I miss. But I wish we could just cuddle now.”

His eyes softened. “Me too. I’d love that…”

You talked quietly for a little longer, before agreeing you’d speak again tomorrow, and saying goodnight. When you went to sleep, it was with one of his t-shirts on the empty side of your bed, your fingers curled in the fabric.

**

Somehow, you got through the time that Nick was away. You had very friendly conversations with both Zara and Gil, and told Nick that he certainly made beautiful children. Seeing more of his life in this way, knowing that he’d told both Maria and Cynthia about you, your lives becoming more integrated, made your heart soar with emotion. In previous relationships you’d found this stage difficult; things growing more serious but without becoming dependent on each other, allowing each other freedom, yet your every moment growing entwined with the other person. But with Nick, it just felt natural. Each new step just made you happy, made you love him more.

When he came home, arriving on a flight in the middle of the day, you invited him over to your place that evening, saying you’d cook. In the end, you were delayed at work, and you found him waiting at the entrance to your building, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and a very welcome grin on his handsome face. You raised your face to his for a kiss before you even entered the building. The feeling of his warm lips pressed to yours, his eyes locked to your gaze, his hand on your back as he deepened the kiss; it was all too much, everything you’d missed, and you couldn’t help a small moan of desire and relief to be with him again.

“I missed you too,” he grinned, his hand seeking yours and gripping your fingers in his, as you walked into your apartment building together.

You left Nick sitting on the couch with a drink, while you went to take a quick shower. You suggested getting takeout, since it was later than planned, and he was browsing the menu of your local Thai place. After your shower, you slipped into a comfortable, but revealing, red patterned dress, and chose pretty underwear, knowing your clothes were unlikely to last long.

Coming back into the living area, you found Nick perched on the edge of the couch, his drink on the table. His shoulders looked tense and he was frowning.

“Nick?” you said, instantly on edge at his change in mood. “What is it? Did work call, or something?”

“No, it’s not work,” he said. His words were soft, but his brow was furrowed. He looked as though he was trying to work something out.

“What was it then? You’re worrying me.” You walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He tensed under your touch and clenched his jaw.

“You got a call to your landline,” he said. “I didn’t answer it, I didn’t think it was my place. But your machine caught it and the caller left a message.”

You looked over at the phone as if hoping for an answer. “And? Who was it?” You heard the note of irritation in your voice.

“I don’t know.” He looked at you properly, and he looked confused, possibly hurt, more than angry. “It was a man, saying that it was nice to see you the other day, and that he hoped you’d call him soon.”

A mixture of relief and hurt flared up in you, as you understood immediately. You looked Nick square in the face. “You do trust me, don’t you?”

Nick nodded, then swallowed hard. “Yeah, I do. I just…”

“Just nothing. Whoever it was, if you trust me, you know there’s nothing to worry about.” You glared at him.

“So who was it?” he demanded. He was still struggling to contain his emotions. And you knew it was his own insecurities, not his trust in you.

“It was my ex. I bumped into him in the street the other day. It’s been two years, Nick, and I hoped I’d never see him again. He was possessive, and creepy in the end. But I talked to him, I was polite. And I’m not sure I should have to explain myself…”

Nick nodded, listening. “And you gave him your number?”

“No, I didn’t. That why he called the landline, that number hasn’t changed. He doesn’t have my new cell number, he is blocked on all social media. It’s the only way he could reach me. I didn’t think he would.” You sighed. “I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t mention it because I didn’t think it would matter.”

Nick drew a deep breath too. “Don’t apologise. It’s me who should, I don’t even know what I was thinking…” He was still sitting tense and upright, looking unhappy. You gave him a little smile.

“Thank you. But’s it’s okay. As long as you do trust me?”

“Absolutely I do,” he said. “Look, if you want me to go, I will…”

With that, you took a step over to him and put your hand on his shoulder again, rubbing down onto his chest. “I don’t want you to go anywhere,” you replied. “I want to show you how much I missed you.”

“You can’t be in the mood, after this?” There was a spark of hope and arousal in his eyes nevertheless.

“I am more than in the mood, Nick. Are you?”

“I am…if you’re sure…”

“More than sure. In fact, food can wait. Get up,” your last words were clearly a command.

“What?”

“Do as you’re told, when you’re given an order.” You gave him a wink. His face changed, arousal taking over from anger. He got to his feet. “Bedroom,” you commanded. He went. “Shirt off,” you called after him, following him, watching him peel his t-shirt up and over his head, throwing it on the floor.

In the bedroom, you located a tie he’d left at your place before his LA trip, and approached him with it in your hands. His eyes fell on it. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Showing you how much I want you. And punishing you for thinking I might not be in the mood.” You grinned. “On the bed.”

Nick laid down on the bed, his eyes still on yours. You straddled him, still fully dressed, one leg either side of his hips, grabbing his strong, slender wrists in your hands and pushing them above his head. You wound the tie around them, and around your metal headboard, moving to run a hand down his body, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as his arousal grew. He looked up at you and wriggled his restrained hands teasingly. “So, what’re you going to do now?” he challenged.

You grinned big moving to stand up on the bed, your feet either side of him. You lent down resting your pointer finger on his chin, running it down over his chest before both your hands came to rest on your knees, you stood up straight and your hands started to slowly run up your thighs pushing your dress up higher. You looked down at Nick with a smirk, his eyes stuck on your body as you grabbed the hem, pulling the dress up over your head, throwing it on the floor. Nick groaned when his eyes landed on your matching set and you watched as he tried to pull his hands free from the tie.

“What I’m going to do now, Nick…” you hooked your fingers on the waist of your panties pushing them down and carefully moving one leg at a time to pull them off “…is show you how much I want you, all the time,” you purred.

Nick bit his bottom lip and pulled on the tie again as his eyes ran over your bare bottom half, seeing your shiny wet folds. You reached behind you, unclipping your bra and throwing it to meet your dress and panties on the floor before you sunk down to straddle Nick’s abdomen, between his belly button and jeans waist. You moaned softly at the feeling of his abs brushing over your clit and you lent forward, your tits in his face.

The tip of his tongue came out of his mouth to flick your nipple and you started to rock your hips over his skin, the sensation making you wetter then you were already. You locked lips with him for a brief moment, your tongues darting into each other’s mouths. You pulled away from the kiss and sat up and you groaned loud at the new pressure the change of the position had on your pearl. You knew it wouldn’t be long till you were pushed over the edge.

You ran your hands down over Nick’s chest and then ran them up to cup both breasts, squeezing them and tugging your own nipples. You looked down at Nick through your eye lashes, as his mouth dropped open, and his heavily lidded eyes were fixed on you,

“Yes baby, just like that. Come for me, amor. Show me how much you want me. How much you missed me,” Nick groaned out, trying to pull his hands free from the tie.

Your hands ran up from your breasts and into your hair, your hips moving feverishly over him, your wet coating his skin, almost enjoying his frustration while you reached your satisfaction. Your coil finally snapped and you threw your head back moaning Nick’s name loudly. You slowed your hips taking a deep breath and slowly moving down his body.

“Did you like watching that, Nick?” you settled between his legs as he spread them for you and saw the bludge in his pants. He nodded at you. “I’m glad. Looks like I made a mess,” you cooed.

You lent forward leaning down at the wet patch you left behind on his skin. You stuck your tongue out, flattening it and licking him clean. Nick squirmed against you, thrusting his hips into your chest, his own need to be touched almost too much.

“Don’t worry guapo, didn’t think you were going to miss out, did you?” you sat up, after kissing where you had licked up your mess, reaching down to his belt, undoing it, his jeans button and zipper. You tugged them down enough, with his boxers, for his hard weeping cock to spring free. You wrapped your hand around it, his pre cum covering your hand instantly, “I believe you promised you would fuck my face,” you smirked down at him as he threw his head back into the pillow, arching his back slightly. “I think it’s only fair, after I showed you how much I missed you, you show me.”

You parted your lips sinking down on Nick’s cock all the way for it to hit the back of your throat, and he let out a hiss as you gagged around him slightly. You made your way back up to his tip, hollowing your cheeks before you sunk back down on him again, his black curly hair tickling your nose, your own arousal building fast again,

“Babe-I…” Nick groaned “Fuck, you take my cock so good- I missed this, I missed you, so much,” Nick bucked his hips up into your mouth and you moaned around him, licking his tip like a melting ice cream, taking him fully back into your mouth and cradling his balls in your hand squeezing them gently. “Y/N- please baby, let me touch you, please,” Nick begged.

You made your way back up, grazing your teeth over him slightly and you wrapped your hand around him, stroking fast,

“One condition,”

“Anything,” Nick panted, tugging on the tie when you twisted your wrist around him.

“You are the only one for me, and I always want you,” Nick nodded, “You never forget that.”

“Yes, always. Now, please, baby, untie me,” Nick groaned, back arching off the bed.

You reached up without stopping your actions on his cock, grabbing the tie with your free hand, tugging it and it came loose. You moved back down between Nick’s legs taking him fully back into your mouth as he quickly pulled the tie off his wrists throwing it on the floor and his hands found their way into your hair, both of them resting on the back of your head.

As you sunk back down to his base, Nick held your head there and he started to roll his hips up into you urgently, one of your hands cupping his balls again, your eyes watering as he hit your throat, and saliva running out of the corners of your mouth. You felt Nick’s legs tense, one hand balled into a fist in your hair, when a loud roar of your name filled the room and his hot salty cum ran down your throat. You felt his hands leave your hair and you rose up, your lips still around his softening cock sucking up the rest of his release, pulling off with a pop and sitting back on your haunches, wiping your swollen lips dry with the back of your hand.

Nick sat up taking you into his arms, his arms wrapping around your middle and his lips crashed on yours kissing you deeply, your hands resting on his chest,

“I missed you baby,” Nick pulled back, brushing your hair behind your ears.

“I missed you so much.”

“Next time I go to LA, you’re coming with me.”

“We will see what Liv has to say about that,” you giggled cupping his cheek running your thumb over it and he laughed “But I would love too.”

“As soon as we get in tomorrow we will talk to Liv and fill out the paperwork.”        

Tags:  @wanniiieeee @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @randofando-spoonie  @alwaysachorusgirl  @amorestevens  @harryssxnflwr @teamsladsandgents @thatesqcrush @storiesofsvu @skittle479 @bisexual-dreamer02 @glimmerglittergirl @witches-unruly-heart @berniesilvas @ben-c-group-therapy​

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 9: Ch 2

Previous

Summary: Syco and the unnamed Space Explorer question their choices

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

Lots of diagrams. Plenty of banter but no signs of Ashley, Mikrovos, or Skeema. In the end, though, I can’t say it was a complete waste of time. I know where they are, and I also know where Syco is in terms of his state of mind. 

“I’ll look more into it.” His projected image vanishes, and the symbols that were once circling Syco float back down to the platform. Once again, it's just the two of us. His back is facing me. A purple glow is facing him. The compass, what Commander Knox was referring to before leaving the meeting, is held in Syco’s hand. It's held in his other hand, the one not ranked with death. Its symbols have yet to be translated. The two are stuck, Syco especially as he remains standing on that platform, refusing to look at me. 

“I loved it. I loved the feeling. I loved the power I had. I took so many lives. I took too many lives. The Commander, he,” he sighs, and his grip loosens, “No. No, I can’t blame him. It was my fault. It was all my fault. I let my dark desires take over. That’s why I stopped. That’s why I took that oath, but I broke it.” 

He shakes his head. Briefly, I see a smirk. It’s not the villainous smirk I’ve grown ill towards. It’s the type of smirk that says: “I fucked up then, and I fucked up once again.” 

Continuing his monologue, “I’m trying to do what’s right. I’m trying to make up for what I’ve done. I'm trying to walk forward, but I keep walking backward. I’m trying to save lives, not end them. It’s times like these I question if this war is worth it. Have I become what I’ve grown to hate? I’m insane, but you already know that. 

“I can't trust my inner circle. I can’t even trust myself. I never could. Human, you’re the only one I trust. So, please tell me, have I become the villain in this story?” Finally, he turns to face me. For once, our height difference doesn't bother me.

“We’re the villains in our stories, but there’s no such thing as justice. There’s just us and our decisions. Make one that helps us, and it hurts others. Make one that helps them, and it hurts us.” 

“The universe isn’t infinite. It’s finite. It crushes, breaks. It kills life. The truth is ironic, but we’d rather believe lies. I don’t want to be like everyone else anymore. I don’t want to be me anymore. I hear and see things that aren’t really there. I don’t sleep. I can’t because they’re always nightmares. I’m restless. That’s why when we finally write ourselves in the last chapter in this story I want my story to end with you. 

“I disagree with your earlier statement, though I can see where you’re coming from. There is justice in this abyss we call the universe. It’s when I find myself meeting with and gasping underneath your blade.”

Instead of a set of glowing purple eyes glaring at me from afar, hunting me for my reaction, is two sets of eyes looking at each other. Both are stiff, serious. One of them switches from looking at someone I have to call my friend, as the only way of surviving is by having friends, to her screen. “It just looks like chicken scratch to me.”

The symbols on her screen are the same ones that were written on me. I touch my chest. They’re gone now, but I imagine the red paint had rubbed onto my hand. It feels like blood. It looks like blood. I get a chill thinking about seeing the reflection of that thing from the trial onto the imaginary stroke on my hand. 

It’s when I step inside the room the two finally take note of me. They look up, but Shiitakee returns to inspecting Saamuki’s screen. “Any news,” she asked.

“Yeah. How far away are we from Quadrant Forty?”

“It's about a two-hour trip, but that's a lot closer than I expected.”

“They’ll be there a while.”

“But I still can’t figure out how to access the code.”

I join Shiitakee. “What’s this about?”

“The symbols that were on you are the same ones that Sakhra painted on himself. I see the same ones whenever I glow. It’s the same one I heard The Speaker speak.”

“Are they the same as the ones on Syco’s compass? I haven’t gotten a good look at it yet.”

“Me too, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it is.”

Shiitakee cuts in, cutting out of his daze on Saamuki’e screen, “Fine, let’s say I believe you. Okay, this isn’t just some chicken scratch. Out of the millions of languages in the known universe, whoever first started this whole strange trend decided to use a language I haven’t heard about until just a few minutes ago. Why?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out, but maybe if I were to look around Quadrant Thirty-Nine’s library I could find something.”

“And how would you do that? We’re two hours away at the very least, remember? Besides, I hear it’s the most guarded place right now.”

“Also, I don’t think Syco is going to let us just get up and leave anytime soon. It’s not the best time right now,” I added. 

“That's fine I wasn't planning on leaving this room. I know of a way to set foot in that library without actually setting foot." Both Shiitakee and I look at each other. Following our shrugs is Saamuki continuing with, "It's a lot of explaining. But basically..." 

The way was by sending holograms of us first flying across the universe at unimaginable speeds, then swimming in miles of electric currents to eventually abruptly being smacked onto some dusty, browning tiles I pictured being cold. For the most guarded place in the universe, it sure looks abandoned. One of the lights above is flickering. It goes on and off for a minute before it completely dies. At least the other lights above, thousands of dim lights, can keep on. They shine across the jaw-dropping rows upon rows of books. Piles of them, rather than being properly organized by nuzzling against each other in bookshelves, are stacked high. Three nearly reach the roof, which I need to add this building is three stories high. All of the piles are taller than our three heights combined. Why must aliens not use bookshelves?

At the very center of the ceiling is a perfectly square window lying just behind a cage. On the other side of the window, squeezed between the nest of what I hope aren't bones, is a purpling sky. It’s twilight here. 

Gleefully Saamuki whispers, “It worked.” 

Footsteps are heard coming our way. I gulp. 

Saamuki reminds us, “No one can see us.”

The guard’s footsteps die down as they turn and move away from us.

“Although, we have to be careful with our voices." She raises her head and looks around the library. "Sounds bounce around here quite easily.” 

Shiitakee looks around before replying, “Curse me for not asking more but don’t tell me we’re actually going to look through this mess to look for a book or two we don’t even know the name of. Must I add, for a mere theory? Who knows maybe it’s just a coincidence, or maybe you’re overthinking. Maybe I was actually right for once.”

“I didn’t force you to come, Shiitakee. I asked you to come.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You can still go back.”

“That’s the thing I could. I will after a few minutes. Maybe when I can’t take this bore anymore, but it was really boring waiting for you two to come back last time.”

“Then, let’s get right into it.”

The three of us went our separate ways after promising to meet back there. Saamuki went straight, going deeper into the jungle of books. One minute she's waving bye to us. The next, she's been swallowed by the books. My other companion just turned away and flipped through the nearest book. I went right. The books here are smaller than the books Saamuki traveled into, but they’re much more portly. They’re almost five inches thick. I scan the titles. Many I find interest in, thinking they held the answers Saamuki is looking for. I find myself skimming through them, and in those brief moments, I try to figure out how to cope with how much time I wasted. I groan. Little blurry pictures. So few creative titles. Too many tiny printed words, most of which are long. I despise reading. It always makes me so sleepy, but I force myself to the next book and then to the next. I must’ve skimmed through a hundred, barely a tenth of the books around me, before my eyes become too watery to read. I reach around for another book, but I fall on my butt. Accepting my new predicament, mainly because I'm too tired to get up, I note the book is coated in just as much dust as the floor, if not more. I blow on it but soon regret it. I cough and try to hold in the noise. I try fanning away the fine particles. When they eventually blow away, I frown because I can’t read the title of this book. Maybe if I flip through the book I’ll find at least a word I can read. Nope. It’s all simply just lines, circles, and dashes to me. They have no meaning to me, but the stars above do. It’s well past midnight. We’ve been here for hours, but find ourselves no better than where we were before coming here. I sigh and lay back to look up at the ceiling. 

I hope Saamuki is close to finding something. I also hope I get to see the others soon. I reach my hand up, thinking I’m somehow able to reach out to them lightyears away from where I’m laying. Then, I hear static. With a guard swinging his flashlight across my clearing, I chalk the strange sound to his shuffles even though I knew that doesn't make sense. That’s why I’m not surprised when I get the real answer. I hear a voice I haven’t heard in some time. Hearing it has me get up, get watery-eyed, and look around for the unlikely. “Skeema,” I asked quietly. 

A moment. No reply. I was about to rethink my recent judgment until he finally replies, “It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

“W-Where are you?” I look around again, thinking Skeema would pop out of nowhere with tea for us to share. Of course, that doesn’t happen. I remain alone in this crevasse in the sea of books listening to the guard walking away. 

“Light years away from your location.”

“How are you talking to me?” At first, I thought I'd truly gone insane like Syco. Then, I remembered what Syco did all those weeks ago before the tournament. Although, unlike then, I don’t get to see the face behind the voice. “Right. My chip.”

“Yes.” A cough rushes out of Skeema. It sounded painful. I felt it. It’s as if my chest is collapsing in on itself. 

“Are you alright, Skeema?”

“It’s nothing. Don't worry about it. I don’t have much time. Knox is planning something big. Don't come looking for us. For the time being, remain where you are.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have the time to explain, but I’ll let you know when I can.” A blaster goes off on his side. It rings in my ears, and right after our call goes static. I try calling out his name. Nothing. 

Looking up at the window, I wonder what's coming. Then, instead of getting an answer, but it’s not like I would’ve gotten one, I see a black silhouette looming over me. I get out my sword, and they just tilt their head.

[the-nights-parade]

Ocean Park | Hong Kong's Largest Theme Park

Ocean Park is Hong Kong's largest theme park. In fact, it is Hong Kong's only theme park. With its 35 attractions and rides, the park has won several awards, including "The World's Seventh Most Popular Amusement Park" and "33rd Most Visited Tourist Attraction in the World". These are not statistics that I would necessarily brag about, but maybe that's just me.

Ocean Park is a 10 minute taxi ride away from our home, and Sadie has been at least a dozen times with her friends. In fact, her school did a trip there earlier this year and attempted to sell it to the parents as a physics lesson. Right.

I am reasonably informed that watching a teacher get spun around until they puke is the height of entertainment for a teenager. Anyway, I had never been before. I'm not sure why this is, but I guess that it is partly to do with David's lack of interest. I guess I can understand that. Any roller coaster becomes Space Mountain when you are blind, and although I love Space Mountain, I'm not sure that I'd want to spend the whole day riding on it. David is in the UK though, and I thought it might be a fun thing for Sadie and me to do.

This is the latest in a long string of my attempts at mother/daughter bonding. I try to kid myself that Sadie and I really have a close personal connection, that she loves and respects me as much as I do her, and that she actually enjoys my company when in reality what I perceive as bonding is probably just Sadie playing along to get something she wants. Regardless, if that's all I can get, I'll take it.

So, off we went to Ocean Park. I had to queue up for the ticket as Sadie already had a season pass that paid for itself if the first month. The price was comparable to other them parks - about £20 for the day. Now it is time for me to fess up about the real reason I wanted to go to Ocean Park. It has two different sections, one of which has animals, an aquarium and kiddie rides and the other which has thrill rides. The animal section has PANDAS! For a long time, seeing pandas has been on my list of 100 things to do before I die* and I was finally getting to do it!

I am marginally embarrassed by my passion for pandas. I have seen Kung Fu Panda three times and that is really not something of which to be proud. I am completely suckered in by their furry, fat cuddliness and those big black circles around their sad eyes. To be fair, I was also completely suckered in by Pete, the dog from the Little Rascals too. Something about a black circle around an eye. I like to think of myself as mature, urbane, sophisticated, cool and more than a little cynical. Loving cuddly panda bears blows that image. It's like Henry Kissinger saying he loves "My Little Pony". I guess I am out of the closet now.

Anyway, back to Ocean Park. I decided to prolong the expectation for as long as possible, so we visited the aquarium first. It is a pretty good aquarium as these things go - maybe even in the top 50 aquariums in the world.

I couldn't really contain my excitement much longer though. I had to see the bears. I spotted the Panda House from several hundred metres away. I knew it was the panda house because there were 10 metre tall plastic pandas waving to us from the roof. For one brief moment, I actually thought that they were real and waving just at me. We walked up the ramps and into the house. There are three panda enclosures, each with its own panda. They are solitary creatures and don't like to mix much. Thank goodness. The sight of two pandas cuddling or playing might just might be more cuteness than an ordinary human could bear (ha ha - I swear that wasn't on purpose).

There are two parallel ramps in front of the enclosures, and you are encouraged to stroll down one and up the other, giving everyone a good chance to have a look. Good manners went out the window as soon as I walked in the door. I stopped, creating a domino effect of panda watchers behind me. I couldn't move. I was spell bound. There in front of me was a giant panda sound asleep on a wooden platform. He was on his back, mouth open and with all four paws up in the air. I couldn't hear it, but I am absolutely sure he was snoring.

It is not terribly mature or sophisticated to jump up and down and shriek "OOOOH! LOOK AT THAT PANDA! HE IS SOOOOOO CUTE!", but that is what I did. Sadie,even more than usual, pretended that she didn't know me. Finally, someone behind me gave me a good push and forced me to carry on.

The second and third enclosures were empty, so I hurried down to see snoring panda again. Then, just as I was about to go past window number two, out came a beautiful female panda bear. I know it is unspeakably rude, and I am really not proud of it, but I simply would not budge from that spot.

Parents tried to push their eager children in front of me, but I wasn't having it. I figured that I had less time to do the 100 things to do before I die than they did. I took photos and watched her amble around for a good 10 minutes. I probably did more to damage Chinese/Western relations at that point than Tienanmen Square, but my wish was fulfilled. I have seen pandas. I am also the very, very proud owner of a cute, overpriced panda cuddly toy that we have named Bing Bing.

Back out into the sunlight, no other event that Ocean Park could offer could possibly live up to the panda experience. I have to tell you though, that in the dozen or so time Sadie had visited, she had never before seen the bears. She comes for the rides. So, off we went to the other part of the park.

This can be accessed in one of two ways. There is a cable car that offers magnificent views over the southern part of Hong Kong or there is a train. The trip up is unbelievably steep. There are stairs, but it would probably take me the better part of my life to get up them. I don't think that they are even open for public use. We took the cable car, and it was lovely, but I certainly wouldn't recommend it for anyone with height issues.

Once at the top, Sadie said she needed food. There were a number of food options, most of which involved some form of squid. There is something not quite right about eating something that was one of the attractions we had just visited. I am just trying to imagine how this menu would go down at Alton Towers or at Six Flags.

Thankfully, there were other options than munching on Squidward and Sadie was very happy with her french fries and diet coke. This is the ultimate food oxymoron.

During her feast, Sadie had been eyeing the temporary tattoo parlour. "No", I said, "Don't even ask". Of course, a few minutes later we were sat on the chair inside the booth whilst Sadie got her Panda tattoo. Giving in against your better judgement is a big part of the bonding process.

As foreigners, we are used to being stared at sometimes despite the fact that Hong Kong is one of the most cosmopolitan and ethnically diverse cities in the world. Just recently, I was accosted on the MTR by about 20 teenagers demanding to have their picture taken with a foreigner. Of course, I obliged with my goofiest grin.

Sadie actually attracted an audience whilst her tattoo was painted on. There was a crowd of people gathered round, pushing each other out of the way to get a view. When the tattoo lady was finished, Sadie stood up and the crowd actually applauded!

We then moved onto the arcade. This time I was really going to hold firm, and I set about telling Sadie how all the games are rigged and that it is virtually impossible to win a big prize. Then I saw the shooting gallery. OK, it was a Nerf shooting gallery where you shot plastic pegs with suction cups onto a plastic target, but it was still a shooting gallery. My resolve crumbled and I became the world's biggest hypocrite.

When I was about Sadie's age, I went to a summer camp. It was altogether a miserable experience, except for one thing. I discovered that I was really good with a 22 rifle. I've been hooked ever since. I would NEVER shoot at a living thing (I won't even let Sadie go to BB Gun parties when EVERYONE else gets to go), but boy do I love shooting at a target. I bought 10 rounds and sidled up to the bar counter. Everyone around me was doing rapid firing, but I took my time to line up that bullseye in my site. I felt like Clint Eastwood, Annie Oakley and John Wayne all wrapped up into one. Slowly, I pulled the trigger. Bullseye! I took my time with the rest and managed 5 bulls eyes and 5 in the next circle out. God, I'm good.

On to the rest of the park. It was time to do some rides. We headed off to the log flume. On our way, we saw large groups of mainland Chinese wandering around in packs. Some of them had on matching hats. Others had perky little matching bandannas. All of them had little tags around their necks which I can only presume said "If found, please return to Hunan Provence". Hong Kong tourism is big business in mainland China, and the groups are typically made up of older couples. It's sort of like visiting the Florida of the east.

These groups, with their bad teeth, worse clothes and what I can only imagine is the Chinese version of a hillbilly accent, are treated with complete and utter disdain by the local Hong Kong community.  I rather like them. I can only imagine what they must have seen in their lifetimes, yet they retain a certain child-like innocence in the pleasure they take in places like Ocean Park. Then we got to the queue for the log flume.

All innocence was gone as these old folks pushed and shoved like they were in the queue for the last kilo of rice at the state rice store. I'm not kidding, they were vicious. They cut in front of as many people as they could, tread on toes and elbowed their way to the front. Then once on the ride, they looked miserable when they got soaked to the skin. What were they expecting?  We got soaked to the skin too, but it was fun.

Then I had a really strange experience (as if being jostled by old Chinese people wasn't strange enough). We were in the queue for another ride (Raging Rapids, if you must know), and I spotted someone I knew in the queue. I knew I knew him, but for the life of me I couldn't thing of how. His was not a face I would forget as he looked like a youngish Paul Newman. I stared for about 10 minutes before he looked up and nodded at me and smiled before he turned away to talk to his very young Thai wife/girlfriend. It finally came to me.

It was a close friend of one of my exes whom I like to call Lucifer (No Grizz and Billy, that is not a nickname I have for either of you). It was driving me crazy because I couldn't remember his name. I remembered that he had been born with a really bad name (Malcolm Pratt), but he changed it by deed pole as soon as he was old enough. Who could blame him? So, although I could remember the old name that he changed before I even met him, I simply could not recall his new name. Then it came to me. Pat. His new name was Pat. Just to test out this theory, I yelled out "Pat" to see what would happen. What happened is that Sadie nearly died of embarrassment and the bloke didn't even turn around. I'm certain it was him though. I had heard to had moved to Asia a few years ago for the women to teach.

After a couple hours of different rides, it was time to head back down. This time we opted for the train. We were waiting for the train in a sort of holding pen with a bunch of mainlanders. Several of the women were staring at me and giggling. I smiled at one lady and she came over to me and poked me in the chest several times. Then, she gave two big thumbs up. All the other ladies then started smiling, nodding and pointing at my boobs like they had just won an academy award. I swear to you this really happened.

[myplusminus]

A message to my friends.

Today is my birthday and that marks 35 years of life, and 35 years of struggling with bipolar.

I posted a sort of desperate status not too long ago when I was in a bit of a state, and I realised that many of you don’t even know what’s going on with me – a few friends have suggested I write this to help people understand.  I’d also like to dispel some of the myths and stigma surrounding bipolar.

 HISTORY:

Bipolar can be genetic and it does run in my family.  Unfortunately my grandfather had it too.  He was a very conservative man who would be very unconservative when he was manic – sleeping with woman he shouldn’t (he was with my Grandmother) and doing drugs which he disagreed with otherwise amongst other things.  I also have 2 cousins with bipolar.

 TYPE:

There are a few different types of bipolar.  I have “bipolar 1” which is considered the most serious form of bipolar, described as:

 “Bipolar 1 is “classic” or “textbook” manic-depressive illness, with serious and damaging episodes of both mania and depression. In a severe manic episode a person can lose all touch with reality. Left untreated a manic episode can last anywhere from a few days to several years.”

 Although it is sometimes true, unlike the public perception of bipolar, I am not wildly cycling through moods.  For me it has been more slow-burning.  I can be depressed for 3 months to 2 years and at one point I was on and off manic for a period of about 3 years.  There are also many different types of moods such as “dysphoric mania” and “mixed” etc. but for the sake of simplicity I’ll just stick to depression and mania.

 I’ll start with MANIA:

 The public perception is that this is a great feeling, almost like a drug, like ecstasy.  I have experienced this kind of mania and it can be great.  Everything and everybody is fascinating, it’s great for socialising (most people love to talk about themselves and I will be full of questions), my brain seems to be working very fast, creativity is on overdrive and I could stay up for days studying.

The downside to this state is your inhibitions, morals and self-control melt away. I am a deeply moral person and rate my self-worth on my ability to be honour these morals.

When I am manic, I will happily barrel on through destroying everything I have made. I will buy all sorts of strange things off the internet spending all my money, tell my boss exactly what I think of them, sleep with people I shouldn’t, say incredibly thoughtless things to people I care about, destroy projects I have been working on for months etc.  

I can also be really annoying.  I remember repeatedly sending this picture of a dog (this one https://www.vexels.com/editables/preview/137533/dog-meme-generator#/) to one of my colleagues via instant messenger, then I emailed it, then I taped pictures of it to his chair/phone/desk etc. For some reason I thought this was hilarious and I didn’t seem to be able to stop.  I really pissed that guy off.

The more textbook “crazy” things I did that people like to lap up about us crazies is things like believing I was going to be abducted by aliens (I was 14, and fuck you Whitley Streiber) and having a full blown panic attack when a helicopter flew over our house, believing I could control traffic and that one time I went to China to start a business.

Now the DEPRESSION:

Eventually the mania wears off and I am left picking up the pieces of my damaged relationships, job, my belongings and I’m still receiving weird shit in the mail.

The gravity of what I have done fully hits me.  I go to work trying to be as invisible as possible, I could be absolutely blanked by previous friends, my boss is pissed at me.  I have to apologise to my family for the gazillionth time, I have no money for bills/food and I just want to curl up into a ball under a blanket somewhere and never come out.

I can get into really dark places.  The worst things my brain can imagine will present themselves in my head and I am helpless to stop them.  It maliciously discovers the things that are the most upsetting to me.  Dark, horrifying images, any bad thing I ever done and feel guilty about, reminding me on a very deep level what an awful, despicable person I am. The events are played over and over and over. I don’t feel like people properly appreciate the horror of this, I’ve described it there in a few sentences but I experience it for hours at a time, on and off for days to months.  As I said, this can go on for years.  I just go through the motions and do nothing but work, eat and sleep.  I stay away from socialising or any situation that could possibly go wrong - in case I screw something up there and have another thing to replay in my head.   And I’m still getting weird shit in the mail.

I am lucky enough to have an amazing tight family unit that loves me and either understand or just try to understand what I am going through.  They offer their support every time.  I will have picked up all the pieces and be starting to get better when it will happen again.  

The thing that cuts me the deepest in these episodes is how I am upsetting those close to me.  I just can’t handle that.  I feel so selfish.  Round in circles.  Pick up pieces, guilt and shame, start again, get better and round again.  It would be OK if this had happened once, or maybe a few times, but this has been going on the 35 years now.  Seeing what I am doing to my family absolutely kills me.  

RAGE:

Disclaimer – I have never physically hurt or wanted to hurt anyone other than myself. Apart from Jamie McPhee when we were 11 – he called me “jellybean” (a brilliant play on Billie-Jean) so I casually punched him square in the forehead as we filed out of class.  Anyway I’m not the psychotic murdery sort of bipolar and I’m not entirely sure if bipolar even causes that or if it’s something to do with the person.  What I do know is that I experience “dysphoric mania” which is like a really charged up, agitated feeling where I am irritated by nearly everything.  I basically act like an entitled child and slam doors and shout at everyone for daring to exist in my vicinity.  My family know I will blow up, insult everyone, take myself off for a few hours and usually come back and apologise.  Luckily I don’t experience this too much – these days I’m more aware of when I’m feeling like this and know to isolate myself with a book.

 OTHER SYMPTOMS:

And that’s just the main things.  Bipolar has a few other little tricks up its sleeve that you might not know about. Here’s some other things I’ve experienced:

-          CONCENTRATION: I find it very hard to concentrate.  I remember coming down with a low time once. I had been going to uni every day feeling fine and generally excited, as I had on this course.  Then one day I just couldn’t concentrate.  The tutors words were coming out and I was desperately trying to take them in.  Words on the board even seemed to be in an unrecognisable language.  If people asked me questions I’d have to ask them to repeat their question and even then I couldn’t really get it (at my worst). This is very embarrassing.

 -          MEMORY: My memory is terrible.  I have forgotten entire year long relationships before.  “Strangers” have added me on Facebook and when I’ve asked who they are they’re offended because we had been workplace friends for a year etc.  My psychiatrist says this is because during an episode, particularly mania, the brain is too busy doing other things to record memory.  I know who my friends are and a rough skim over of what we’ve done together but generally if you did deeper you’ll realise I don’t remember a lot of the things we did together.  I also forget my training and education, which is just great for my career.  I deal with that by taking excessive notes and setting plenty of reminders.

 -          SHAKING: I was once admitted to hospital after not being able to sleep for days and uncontrollably shaking my legs and sweating for the last day or so.  Naturally the hospital decided I was just a druggo trying to get a hit so they kept me in a corner of a hospital for a day, sent a psychiatrist in to ask me some invasive questions then sent me home still shaking and unable to sleep.  The scariest thing for me was realising that the professionals actually really don’t care.  I have had similar experiences since and not one of them has been good or even OK.

 -          AUDIO/VISUAL HALLUCINATIONS: I mostly experience sound (not voices talking to me). It seems to be little bits of sound that I’ve heard before mixed in with what I’m actually hearing at the time.  I’m used to it so I mostly just ignore it, the only problem is sometimes I ignore what I’m actually hearing too.  I also experience visual hallucinations.  Not huge and obvious ones but just generally seeing things in a darker light.  I once saw a child walking down the road with a hooded figure who looked creepy - grabbing them roughly and forcing them down the road, I was close to jumping out of the car to save this kid when the hooded figure turned out to be his Mum.  I’ve seen people step in front of the car as we’re driving and absolutely screamed only too look back and see they were still safely on the side of the road.  It seems to be just anything to terrify me when I’m in a dark mood.

 MEDICATION

Ah yes. Like anybody would think, I thought once I had my diagnosis I would now get the drugs I needed and all of this silly messiness would be over.  Not true at all.  The truth is that there is no cure for bipolar and all psychiatrists can do is try you out on medication after medication until they find one that works (pro-tip, the psychiatrists don’t know how to help you either).  Obviously it depends on your biology so this could carry on for some time if not forever. Lithium has helped curb my mania at least but nothing has stopped the depression.  With every medication change (yes, we are still guinea pigging away at 35) I am sent on a rollercoaster of emotions.  I also had one that made me chain-smoke for 6 months or so and, more recently, one that helped me give up altogether with no struggle (that’s the best one yet). Another was your typical zombie drug – it did cure all my symptoms, because I couldn’t get out of bed for 3 months, yay! And I was gobbling food like they were brains so I was a fat zombie. However unlike many people with bipolar, I have always taken my medication.

OTHER THINGS I’VE TRIED:

Meditation, Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, psychologists, counsellors, social workers, giving up drinking and more recently smoking (yay!), breathing exercises, eating healthy, exercising, self-help books etc.

WHATS HELPED?

Animals, family, social workers. You guys. Bipolar forums and other people with bipolar/depression/anxiety.

 WHAT CAN YOU DO TO HELP?

-          Write to me and say hi every now and then

-          Sometimes I just need a cosy spot and a blanket and 3 days of doing very little to calm my head

-          Don’t be upset when I read your message and don’t write back to you.  I try to get there eventually, and I appreciate all the kind messages, I just struggle to respond sometimes

-          Accept that I’ll drop out of contact for periods

-          If you know my family, support them too

-          Don’t get upset when I cancel meeting up.  My senses get overloaded in town and I really have to be in a good space to choose to spend time there.  I often agree when I’m feeling good then get really anxious when it gets closer to the time (they don’t call me Billie McCancelCancel for nothing!). I’d much rather you came over and we took the dogs for a walk with a flask of coffee.

Really you have all been so wonderful.  Nobody said they “know how I feel” and you all just offered your time to chat if I needed it.  That’s all I need.  Thank you so much.

I’d love to sign off saying things are better and I’ll keep my chin up etc. But they’re not really that great.  With each episode my brain gets worse.  It sounds like I could get Alzheimers and I’m seriously not surprised with the way my brain acts lately.  Its not all bad, I still laugh a lot and can be absolutely fine for periods.  However I have attempted suicide 3 times – the most recent being a few weeks ago.  It’s an ongoing thing.  If you managed to make it this far then thanks for reading, I hope you understand better now.