#but you know that weird dream feeling like no words are spoken but theres a relationship there?

[cheerfullycatholic]

Taking melatonin knowing I'm going to have some wild dreams tonight like

[egyptsblackrose]

Dancing with Strangers

Ok so, theres a Playlist I’m loving right now on YouTube called “Dancing between Gojo and Kakashi but you can feel the sexual tension growing by the minute”, posted by itsharley. I made a short story post on the video and people liked it, so here’s the story that’s been living in my head rent free for the past week! This is a regular world AU btw

Warnings: a little suggestive behaviour later, spicy stuff wont be added till later... other than that enjoy!

Part 1-

Y/N L/N had a pretty normal life for the first few years of her life. Her parents were wonderful, kind people who were well respected and successful in their fields of work, both determined to give their precious daughter the best upbringing they could. Things only changed because both were offered a dream promotion. The catch? They had to move to Japan for the foreseeable future.

At first Y/N was devastated. She didn’t want to move away from her beloved grandparents and friends, she was just about to start primary school, and she didn’t know ANY Japanese! What if people were mean to her because she was different? However those worries soon melted away.

Their home was a stunning penthouse apartment in Hiroshima, close to Y/N’s new school, with beautiful views and amazing restaurants all around. There was even a private tutor to help Y/N learn Japanese faster so she wouldn’t be at a disadvantage from the other kids, but even though they were living in Japan, only their native language was spoken in their home. Her parents were adamant that she was smart enough to learn two languages at once, and they weren’t wrong.

In the beginning, Y/N was too shy to really try make friends, worried that she would say something wrong and people would laugh at her, or she’d pronounce something weird and people would mock her. Those fears soon disappeared also, however, when Y/N met Miku and Sakura. Both girls were very sweet, they thought her accent was cute and soon encouraged Y/N to speak more.

The 3 were inseparable, going to concerts together, cafes after school, watching movies and having sleepovers every weekend. It was more like having sisters! So when Y/N had to move back home when she was 15, the 3 were heartbroken. They shed many tears together, and at the airport the 3 and clutched at each other in a group hug, reluctant to separate.

But Y/N was a loyal soul, and the 3 talked over chat every day, and face timed each other every weekend night, watching movies and anime’s together, complaining about school, family and boys. It was painful for Y/N, she felt like she was away from home most of the time. But her friends were good people and never lost their bond.

Now finishing their final years at Uni, the 3 were face timing while finishing their papers, encouraging each other to finish and stay positive as they talked about their plans and ideas for their final year. That was when Y/N discovered the Japanese exchange program her Uni had in place.

Gojo and Kakasi had been friends for as long as they both could remember, meeting back in school, insisting on going to the same uni, and now working together in the police force as partners. The two were often mistaken as lovers, but they repeated many times that they were just very similar in personality, got along like brothers rather than friends, and were both very straight.

While the 2 were undeniably attractive it was Gojo who had the natural charisma out of them that many young women were charmed by, finding it easy to ignore his weird traits. He could never seem to keep a relationship going past a one night stand however, he was just too free willed and whimsical to be tied down. On the other hand- Kakashi- though dashing in his own right and was incredibly sweet to anyone who bothered to get to know him, seemed to fumble with his words a lot of the time, becoming embarrassed and flustered easily, backing out of any interaction that became too bold. The two were opposites, and they soon realised this as young men, observing how the other was strong where they had weaknesses.

It was Gojos idea (of course it was) to “team up” when it came to women. He was the hook, drawing beauties in and charming their pants off, and Kakashi was the sweetheart who convinced them to stay when they both approved of the woman. Sometimes for months, sometimes just for a few days of fun. Either way it was a win win for the men, Gojo received a proper taste of a real relationship (be it poly, as a 3) and Kakashi earned some much needed experience and confidence to help at least lesson his shyness.

But now they were not young men, they were MEN. Successful, powerful, admired men that had bright futures ahead of them and a brotherly bond stronger than ever. There was of course, something rather vital missing from their lives.

The two had been working stupid long shifts, with barely a day off to rest for far too long, and both males were pent up, and needed to drink and let off some steam.

Entering the club, Gojo immediately grinned at the low lights; pounding base of “Hotel Room” hitting his ears, the smell of perfume, sweat and booze. “The Ninja Shrine” was a regular hunting ground for the 2. Kakashi led the way to the bar by instinct at this point, determined to order something strong to continue their buzz from pre-drinks in their shared apartment. The two downed three shots of something dark and expensive with barely a pause for breath. After they were finished, two bottles of beer were purchased as they turned to scout through the crowd closely, leaning against the bar like they were at home.

Already some regulars recognised them- the women batting their eyes at the two, other men trying to seem like they were close and friendly with them so as to steal some of the female attention. Gojo and Kakashi already knew of, or had already slept with, a few of the women who were trying so hard to capture their attention as “Desire” played through the speakers.

They were put on the end of the list of possibilities. Gojo and Kakashi had agreed early on that they wouldn’t be ‘playing favourites’ with women, on and off relationships weren’t their thing. Kakashi would say its because he wouldn’t want to lead anyone on and build a girls hopes up, Gojo would say that once he’s had his fill, he’d get bored of the same thing again and again. Neither men were sure what they were looking for really when they went out scouting for some fun, and neither had found anyone who held their interest for the long term. But Kakashi was honestly more hopeful than Gojo and his whimsical personality.

As the remix finished its hypnotising beat and “Such a Whore” began, there was a refreshing breeze from the door opening. A group of young women, probably uni students or maybe a little older, came in loudly. They unintentionally drew attention to themselves through their happy laughter and rosy cheeks, clearly already been drinking for a while. And in the middle of the group, they saw HER.

Link to Part 2 here- https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/648451271546781696/dancing-with-strangers-ok-heres-part-2-i-guess

[imaginedxlan]

Miscommunication (Neville Longbottom)

a/n: first #harrypotter imagine look at me, told you I would have some random things coming to this account. I have and always will be a simp for Neville Longbottom so heres that

Being friends with Draco and his minions is never easy, especially when you have a secret crush on a certain Gryffindor that you know they’d never let you hear the end of if they knew. When your roommate confronts you about your feelings for one of your closest friends, you’re forced to spill.

warning(s): cussing, sexual allusions

Part 2

––––––––––––––––––––––

Pansy walks into the library in a huff. This isn’t out of the ordinary, she can be quite dramatic, but today her huff seems to be heftier than the other. She drops her things next to a table close enough to you where you can see her making a ruckus and plops in a chair, burying her face in her hands. Usually you let her sort out her thoughts before she inevitably complains to you about whatever Goyle said to her that day or Hermoine calling her pugface again, but not today. She’s actually crying.

“Pansy?” You ask, but she doesn’t lift her head. “Are you alright?”

She doesn’t even bother to move her face from her hands before she says, “Like you care.”

This was out of the ordinary. Pansy has been your roommate as well as best friend since the two of you met on your first ride on the Hogwarts Express. You stand up from your cross-legged position on your chair to sit in the empty seat at her table

“Pansy, darling, how could you say such a thing?” You ask, genuinely confused and slightly hurt by her accusations. “You know I care about you.”

She turns her head to look at you, her eyes red and her sleeves stained beneath her. She doesn’t change her face, still scowling at you, you’re not sure what you’ve done but you know she can’t be mad at you for long.

“Would you tell me what I’ve done so we can talk about this?” You plead with her, you hated when the two of you fought, it always created a weird tension in your lives.

“You must love the way he looks at you,” She starts, sniffling all the while she’s reprimanding me. “Draco just can’t get enough of you, huh? You know how much I like him, y/n, did you have to go after him too.”

“What in Godric’s name are you on about?” You ask, more confused than you were before. “Draco? Pansy there is no reality where Malfoy and I have feelings for each other.”

“I see the way he looks at you.”

“Babe, he’s looking at you!” You exclaim, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. “Malfoy doesn’t want me. Even if he did, I don’t like him like that one bit. You know I don’t like his type.”

Blood purity this, death eater that. It all got fairly boring quickly when you spend as much time with the miniature Malfoy as you do. Truth be told, you were at first obsessed with the blond, following his every move through your first few months at Hogwarts, but after a while his constant complaints about Harry Potter and his threats about his ‘father hearing about this’ hindered you from ever entertaining the thought of being with Malfoy in any sort of romantic sense.

Everyone you associated with in your house was very similar to Malfoy, just a slightly less whiny version with less daddy issues. Crabbe, Goyle, Theo and Blaise, they all had their hang ups, so you started to look outside of the Slytherin common room. You hadn’t planned to fall for a Gryffindor, you had hoped for a Ravenclaw at least being the intense hatred your friends held for the red and gold clad students, but it just happened.

You’re quite smart, just second to Hermoine Granger in many of your classes, all except herbology. That’s when Neville Longbottom entered into your life. After going to Professor Sprout, hysterical about your most recent marks in the class, she decided to take pity on you and employ her best students to help you.

You could tell you made him nervous, the whole time you were asking about mandrakes and gillyweed his cheeks stayed the same shade of crimson they had from the minute you walked into the library and gave him your signature Slytherin smile. You like the way he looked at you, the way he hung on your every word, the way he wasn’t condescending in the way most of the male friends you have made at Hogwarts are. Neville is kind just for the sake of being kind, it was something you weren’t used to.

“No, y/n, I don’t know that.” Pansy says, not in a mean way, more pleading than anything. “You never tell me about anything when it comes to boys, you always just let me go on and on about Draco, there has to be someone.”

You let out a deep sigh, Pansy is your best friend, she should be the one to know about your little crush on the Gryffindor, but you can’t help but dread the day she accidentally lets it slip to her beloved Malfoy.

“Pans before I tell you I need you to know I am not even remotely embarrassed about liking him, I just haven’t told you because the gits we call our friends would ruin him, alright so you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

Pansy sticks out her pinky and waits for you to link yours with her. You interlock both of your little fingers and kiss your thumbs before pressing them together, solidifying her promise. You take a breath and turn your head to look a little further back in the library where you see Neville explaining some phenomenon to Harry Potter who looks bored out of his mind. Pansy’s gaze follows your before she gasps, smacking her hand to her mouth. 

“Merlin, y/n, you like Potter?” She whisper screams, making your head snap in her direction, widening your eyes at her.

“No you idiot, the other one.” You clarify before turning to look at him again. The way he is so deep in thought, obviously about something he’s passionate about, is so intriguing, makes you fall for him a little more every time you catch him in this state.

It’s not before Longbottom can feel two pairs of eyes burning into the side of his head. He cautiously looks to his left to see the two Slytherins looking his way. When he catches your eyes, he immediately blushes but doesn’t look away, neither do you. You simply give him a gentle smile and a small wave before turning back to Pansy who can’t contain her growing grin.

“You really like Neville?” She asks and your nod, seemingly not able to wipe the smile off your face either. “Y/n, I think thats lovely.”

“You know, I didn’t plan on liking him, but after he tutored me in herbology I just couldn’t keep away,” You gush, you can tell your face probably looks like it’s in a dream state but you don’t care. You snap back to reality to tell her again, “You see why you absolutely cannot mention this to the boys. Especially Blaise.”

You didn’t mean to add that last part, you’re cursing yourself for it actually. You hadn’t meant for anyone to find out that for a brief period of time, solely out of desperation on your end, you and Blaise had been each others extra curricular activity so to speak. It ended the minute you realized you actually had feelings for Neville, you never told Blaise the true reason but if he knew it was Neville he may well murder him.

“Blaise?” Pansy ponders, a knowing grin forming on her lips. “Don’t tell me Zabinis been in your lady parts.”

You gag at her choice of words before nodding sheepishly. “It was a year ago and it was purely out of frustration, I promise. I wanted to tell you but he made me promise to keep quiet since I was the one who ended it. I told him I liked someone else, he thinks it’s Theo. He wasn’t mad because I think he thinks Theo is the best looking out of them. I obviously disagree because I didn’t let Nott in my pants now, did I?” You realize you’re rambling and Pansy is taking in all of this information while stifling a laugh. You shake your head before continuing. “But if Blaise knew it was Neville all along he would hex him or something. You see the way Crabbe and Goyle shove him in the hallway and Draco torments him, and I don’t want Blaise joining in on it okay Pans? I really like him.”

“You’re secret is safe with me, don’t worry.” She assure you with a kind smile. “Have you snogged him?”

You shake your head, “I haven’t even spoken to him about it, we don’t talk outside of herbology. I don’t know why, I feel like I can’t muster up the courage around him.”

Her jaw drops before smacking the table in front of us, “Y/n, you are hottest sixth year in this place, quite possibly the hottest witch to walk these halls ever. I know for a fact you’re the hottest bitch to show Longbottom that kind of interest, it’s not like he’d ever say no to you.”

“That’s the thing Pans, I’m not the kind of girl he goes for,” You sigh, letting your chin rest in your hands. The thing about you and Neville is your relationship is strictly academic. If you were to tell him you had feelings for him, ones that he didn’t reciprocate, he’d probably never tutor you again. You’ll take any time with him that you can, even if it’s just to listen to him go on and on about plants. “I don’t want to freak him out, he might never want to talk to me again. I’d be so embarrassed.”

“If he’s stupid enough to take one look at you and think ‘eh, not my type’ then he’d be the one who should be embarrassed.” She tries to assure you, it doesn’t make the thought of telling him any less scary. You never want to see a look on his face when he’s disgusted with you, and you fear that’s what you’d get if you told him. “Do me a favour and look in the mirror, remind yourself who you are. I don’t just mean your face, I obviously think you’re gorgeous, me and half of this school think so, but also right here.”

She points at you heart and smile. You shrug your shoulders and before you know it, Pansy is making a big show of her exit and making the fact that theres and empty seat across from you extremely apparent, calling out as she leaves, “I won’t be back, darling y/n, don’t save my seat.”

You blush and shake your head as she sends you a wink, leaving you alone in the library. You’re not alone for long before you hear a voice behind you ask.

“You mind if I sit here.”

“Not at all.” You reply, knowing full well who it is. “Hi Neville.”

[marshmallowprotection]

hello i just completed the april fools dlc and i am distressed. i got the good ending in which zen has a birthday party at the end, but even though it says its a good ending it really doesnt feel like one. the dlc left me feeling overall very distressed and upset because it feels like we just lied and gaslighted zen for the entire dlc.

theres this theory in the mysme fandom that saeyoung is a wizard (which in other Cheritz games, meant a fairly heartless creature who granted wishes at the cost of certain memories and often had the power to reset timelines). in some mysme bad ends and in the april fools dlc - - the word wizard was brought up again in relation to saeyoung. also, in the dlc, the entire rfa (besides zen, mc, and saeyoung) didnt remember what just happened in the chatrooms.

and idk. there are these bad ends that you can get in mysme where it turns out the entire rfa except zen and saeyoung are robots. and the moments where the system is under maintaince and stuff gets weird like in the dlc, saeyoung then comes in and fixes things so things go back the way they normally are. i dont know :/ it just makes me paranoid that this theory is true and the rfa arent even real in their own dimension (slash parallel universe thing) . and i know its just a game but it just makes me upset everytime the game breaks the fourth wall or alludes to saeyoung being a wizard or the rfa being robots after all. because what if its true? what if saeyoung is this evil mastermind and the rest of the rfa are robots? and zen is the only human for some reason. i dont know if this makes sense but i tried my best.

have you heard of this theory before? and if you have what are your thoughts on it? have you played the april fools dlc and what is your opinion on it? but mainly do you think saeyoung is actually a wizard and the rest of the rfa are robots? it sounds so silly when said all out like this (as i was explaining it, i broke down laughing because it sounds so silly) but this is genuinely so upsetting if true...

Yes. I’ve heard of the Wizard theory before and while I think that’s definitely something that you could play around with and have fun with, well, if it upsets you to think about, I’d advise you to avoid getting too deep into it or getting very overwhelmed with the concept because this bleeds into Reset Theory and the people who mislabel Seven as the “True Route” when there is no such thing as a “True Route” except for the Route that you choose for yourself. So, it’s kind of important to not let yourself get overwhelmed when the game has a silly concept that can be taken “seriously.” 

Yes, the game has these moments where things are self-aware and even I pointed it out in the AE that was just released because it was really jarring to see them pointedly say how important MC is, or the callbacks to things that took place in the other Routes. However, I sincerely don’t think it’s anything that we should read deeper into it because it’s just the game making callbacks to the other routes for fun.

It’s just the game poking fun at itself. 

So, don’t kick yourself in the face for being distressed at it, but don’t think that it’s anything that has a higher meaning. I really don’t think that Saeyoung is a Wizard. Even if he was, why would he subject himself to the horror that he has to face in this game over and over again? It doesn’t add up. I get why people like to play with the idea, but start breaking it down and go, “Yeah, that doesn’t add up to me.” 

The April Fools DLC has many endings. You can play along with the prank as it really appears to be a Dream for Zen and make him wake up from that dream to act like he’s plaster bust, you can agree with him that things aren’t as they’re meant to be and reach the good ending, or you can swing for the normal ending where he breaks the fourth wall and reaches out to you. 

Zen’s pretty complicated because he has memories and visions of things all of the time that doesn’t get spoken of often. He knows things whether he’s aware of it or not. You can say that he’s got psychic abilities because it’s not a stretch to be able to feel or see things in the vague sense. Like, this is more so with the Reset Theory, but if anyone vaguely remembers what happens in a dream, it is Zen. He’s always there for you and he always loves you, friendship wise or romantically. That man is the best. 

I don’t think everyone is robots or anything. I think that’s just putting a lot of weight onto something that’s just supposed to be a silly concept to play around with. There’s no doubt that Zen reaching out to the player in that ending is one that we can’t ignore simply because it’s so... out of the blue? But, yeah, I’m gonna say no to the Wizard theory. 

[minyoongleschimjoongles]

Fever Dream: Day 2: Hike

Fandom: BTS, Stray Kids, Monsta X, Ateez

Genre: Fluff, Hybrid AU

Warning(s): Theres mention of the pandemic in this fic, so if you’re sensitive to that, it’s best not to read.

After several long conversations between Astrin and her parents, it was decided that the staff would go home as they normally would at the end of the ski season, which left the Idols and their Acquisitions Managers truly alone in the large Lodge. Not that anyone really minded being there alone; the boys had been more relaxed at the Lodge than they had been for a long time.

That being said, after a few hours on the second day of their Quarantine, Yang Jeongin was already helplessly bored. It’s not that he couldn’t do any of the crafts or games that had been brought yesterday, he just didn’t want to do it alone.

So here he found himself, tail wagging slightly as he peered into the Lodge Office, watching Astrin writing on her laptop. She looked like she was concentrating on whatever it was she was doing, and he almost didn’t want to interrupt, but as always, Trin seemed to know he was there.

“What’s up, Baby?”

His cheeks flushed at the nickname, a grin gracing his lips unbidden. He takes only three steps to get to her before he’s dropping onto his knees to lay his head in her lap, silently demanding head rubs. Trin gives in easily, scratching gently at the base of the sandy ears sticking up from his brown hair.

“‘M bored, Noona.”

Astrin cooed, shuttling her laptop to smooth her free hand down his back, an action that she’d learned early on from Zara that turned Hybrids into a soft pile of goo. As her fingers ran over the bumps of his spine, she asked, “And what do you want me to do about that?”

Jeongin looked up at her, and Astrin found herself hit with the full force of his puppy eyes.

“Play with me?”

Astrin’s brain short circuited for a split second. Play with me, was a phrase she was used to hearing from the older members of the band, but never from Jeongin, and never in such an innocent situation.

“-oona? You alright? Noona?” Jeongin waved a hand in front of Astrin’s blank face, and his nose scrunched a little. “Mistress?”

At this, Trin blinked hard, looking back down at Jeongin. Running her finger gently along the underside of his chin, she scolded him lightly, “I think you’re forgetting that you’re not a baby anymore, Pup.”

Jeongin quirked an eyebrow, using the arms of the chair to pull himself level with Astrin’s neck, scenting her almost roughly. “I don’t forget that, Noona,” the words were spoken against her skin, goosebumps erupting at the feeling. “I think everyone else does though.” He finished with a nip to her neck, before fixing her with those wide puppy eyes again. He’d learned from years of Hyunjin and Jisung getting themselves purposefully punished not to mention Astrin’s blush or dazed look, so instead he said, “So, can we do something?!”

Astrin’s lips curled into a smirk, and she nodded. “Sure, Pup. Why don’t you go to your room and put on some warm clothes?”

Jeongin’s ears twitched, and he bounced to his feet. His tail thumped against the desk as it began to wag excitedly. “We’re going outside?”

“I’m taking you on a hike,” Astrin agreed, “so hurry up before I change my mind.”

“Yes!” He leaned down and pressed a peck to Astrin’s lips before racing out of the office. As the whirlwind of his exit calmed, Astrin pressed her hand against the mark her Hybrid had left on her neck.

Jeongin still had plenty of childlike innocence left in him. But one day, maybe sooner than anyone expected that Puppy would be a very dangerous man.

——

The hike was easy for both of them; Astrin had traveled the path countless times growing up, and Jeongin naturally had a lot of stamina, and so they made good time getting to where Astrin was trying to lead them.

The sound rushing water greeted them as Trin led Jeongin by the hand out of the trees to stand at the edge of a creek that flowed off into a small waterfall and then continued onwards. Jeongin’s nose twitched as he took in the scent of cool mountain air and crisp, fresh water.

“This is amazing!”

Astrin took a seat on the rocks beside the waterfall, letting her legs dangle as she watched him take in the scenery. “In the summer it’s calm and shallow enough to wade through. When I was younger I used to come out here with friends, and we’d jump into the pool at the bottom of the falls.” Jeongin sat down next to her, pushing his face Into her shoulder.

“Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, it was!” Astrin couldn’t resist reaching up and rubbing at Jeongin’s ears. He leaned into the touch, smiling. “It’s weird being back here after having been in Korea for so long.”

“Do you think we’ll still be here during the summer?”

“I dunno. There’s no telling how long the lockdown is going to be.”

“Well, if we are here, I think it would be nice to go swimming with you, Noona.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think you’d look nice in a bathing suit.”

Astrin’s head snapped to look at Jeongin, but he was looking away from her, a tiny, satisfied smile on his face as he looked up at the budding trees.

Yes, Yang Jeongin would certainly be a danger to society.

@sun-moon-n-yunho @gingerpeachtae @kmseokjins

[blookmallow]

im starting to realize there’s a bunch of connections going on between tma episodes.. i dont know what it Means yet and dont tell me!!!!! ill get there!! but. hmmm. im going through the transcripts after i listen to them to make sure i didnt miss things/checking the details and i just. Keep Finding More Shit, it’s all connected, i feel like there’s something huge going on behind all these and i Do Not Know what it is yet 

this is. very long and disjointed i went through all the transcripts for every episode ive listened to so far and kept noticing more things 

like Don’t Tell Me if im right or wrong ill find out im just gathering thoughts. setting up my little conspiracy board. red strings everywhere

- firstly theres an obvious running thread going about the cursed jurgen leitner books, gerard keay, the. worms. and jane prentiss 

- carlos vittery in Arachnophobia mentions offhand that his complex had an infestation of “small, silvery worms” which passed right over my head the first time but looking at it again thATS THE FUCKIGN WORMS!!!! and martin found. Probably Jane in the basement of that same complex. so. well, (that also means like Who Knows how many people in that building might have gotten infected) (i also wonder whether the spiders might actually be Good, if the worms are hideous parasites maybe the spiders are showing up to eat them/get rid of them, martin says he likes spiders, the spiders almost definitely killed vittery but he was violently trying to wipe them out so maybe it was a greater good kind of thing) (or they’re just spiders and dont have that level of comprehension and like the nasty silver worms. either way) 

- there’s also a lot of Foretelling Of Death but i dont want to go through and list all of those rn

- in Anglerfish, there was some kind of. shadowy hand thing beckoning people into the darkness. Amy Patel in Across The Street describes seeing a similar shadowy hand thing reaching into Graham’s apartment before his. replacement. both of these are described as “folding” in on themselves/moving in a really unnatural way. smoking was also mentioned in both but i havent really been following that as a symbol very closely. possible link with Fire? i dont know

- Repetition. Graham was obsessively filling hundreds of notebooks with the words “Keep Watching,” mary keay’s skin was completely covered in unreadable script tattoos, the paper found by the garbage men was the Lord’s prayer written in latin over and over again, ivo lensik’s father became completely obsessed with fractals and couldn’t stop drawing them. the unnamed burned man in First Aid repeats an unclear phrase over and over again. gerard keay is also covered in tattoos of eyes in First Aid, which was not mentioned before (though probably wouldn’t have been visible before) 

- Graham was convinced he was being watched/followed by Something, harriet was concerned about being followed after she was attacked by prentiss (which. matches with martin’s experience too, though he was much more fortunate), vittery was followed by The Spider, lensik’s father also believed Something was coming for him (and “all the bones are in his hands” sounds very. leitner), and there was. whatever approaching darkness was coming after robert montauk, as well 

- Graham has a weirdly hypnotic table, the first Leitner book found by dominic swain had oddly vertigo-inducing woodcuttings, gerard keay’s eye painting is similarly hypnotic, lensik finds a box in the old tree with the same hypnotic carvings on it 

- not sure if the Spider Apple has any relation to the Arachnophobia episode, but, there’s that, also 

- swain’s book had an image of the sky, which he described felt like you would “fall into it” if you looked at it for too long, and robert kelly sort of “fell into the sky” in Freefall. laura popham describes a sense of being swallowed up by the earth in Lost Johns’ Cave, as well 

- same theme of becoming “lost” in Lost Johns’ Cave and in Alone, similar concepts of being consumed by the earth 

- i dont think its necessarily related to anything else as far as i know but just wanted to mention also i didn’t process the... extra audio recording in Lost Johns’ Cave correctly, i thought she was saying “help me, help me, please help me” which was unnerving, but didn’t really seem all that critical to add, until looking at the transcripts i realized it was “take her, not me” which was a HUGE punch to the gut when i discovered it lmao. dont ask how i managed to mishear that badly but i am very very bad at auditory processing which is why im reading all these scripts to make sure i didnt process them wrong

- Graham mentions he’s gay, and the man who had the dream about gertrude mentions having broken up with his boyfriend, Graham. jon doesn’t comment on this and it’s not necessarily the same graham, and im not sure what the significance is if it is, but it seems like an odd coincidence if it isn’t. “antonio” doesn’t go into detail about why they broke up, but mentions they had been living together 

- the name Joshua Gillespie stands out to me for some reason, like I’ve heard “gillespie” somewhere before, but I haven’t noticed it coming up again in any of the transcripts unless I just missed it. could just be that my brain decided to Remember that name for no reason though. he’s the guy with the coffin 

- jon mentions this, but Breekon and Hope deliveries were responsible both for the weird coffin and the yellow stole from the incident with father burroughs 

- there’s a major ongoing theme of Fire and Burning, both just in general, and a more specific Fire With No Apparent Source thing continuously happening. the prayer paper in the trash had been burned, timothy hodge burned his apartment after the Worms Incident (and martin mentions noticing one of the worms looked slightly burnt - maybe it survived the fire and returned to jane?), sgt. berry was “distinctively marked” by an incident with a flamethrower, the vampires are supposedly very very vulnerable to fire, raymond fielding’s house burned down and his. ghost? disappears with a burning smell and a burnt spot on the floor, lensik experiences an intense, unbearable heat with no clear cause soon after the encounter with raymond, which father burroughs also experiences in his account. the mysterious coffin in Do Not Open had an unnatural heat to it. gerard keay burns the leitner book and picks up the still-smoldering ashes but isn’t concerned with the heat, and then appears again as one of the burned men in First Aid, having apparently experienced second-degree burns on every inch of his skin, but had completely undamaged clothes. the nurse describes feeling a burning sensation when the chanting starts, but dismisses it as a nervous reaction, then experiences the. boiling drink bottles and the burning hot door handles. she says she could feel a burning heat from gerard’s hand. the burned man’s body immediately self-cremates when gerard kills him. lee rentoul also gives specifically a lighter to angela for her Piecemeal curse, though that might be coincidental. he does burn the first box after he discovers it, though

- the garbage man describes the last Weird Trash as “tied off with a dark green ribbon, arranged in a bow like an old-fashioned Christmas present” - which contained a copper heart, possibly symbolizing alan’s real heart, with the rest of his body never being found. this matches both with robert montauk’s killings and the cursed boxes from angela’s curse- “brown paper and string, like an old-fashioned Christmas present.” there was also the weird thing with raymond’s hand, but im not sure that’s related 

the vampires’ victims bodies also seemed to disappear, not sure that’s related either 

- jon confirms that the pendant julia describes (the one belonging to her mother and also her father’s last victim) is a symbol of the People’s Church of the Divine Host cult. wondering if this is related to what father burroughs experienced. gerard keay is searching for a lost pendant in First Aid, but its design is unclear, and he describes it as brass. unsure if related. the fact that gerard’s tattoos/etc were of eyes, and the other pendant is of a closed eye, while one is made of brass and the other of silver seems like there might be some connection though even if it isn’t the same one. there didn’t seem to be any burning involved with the montauk case, anyway 

then there’s. this entire thing im just gonna paste it here, from sebastian adekoya in the Boneturner’s Tale: 

“Books are amazing, aren’t they? I mean, when you think about what they really are. People don’t give the actuality of language the weight it deserves, I feel. Words are a way of taking your thoughts, the very make-up of yourself, and giving them to another. Putting your thoughts in the mind of someone else. They are not a perfect method, of course, as there’s plenty of scope for mutation and corruption between your mind and that of the listener, but that doesn’t change the essence of what language is.

Spoken aloud, though, the thought dies quickly if not picked up. Simple vibrations that vanish almost as soon as they are created, though if they find a host, then they can lodge there, proliferate, and maybe spread further. Still, it is not a reliable method in terms of a thought’s endurance, as humans are fragile creatures, and rarely last a century.” 

this definitely seems relevant to jurgen leitner (and this is. one of the episodes about a leitner book, so) it definitely seems likely that he’s spreading some kind of.... Belief or Self or Power or Something through his books, possibly even his own consciousness is within them somehow, or at least the consciousness of Something or Someone. the man with all the bones in his hands. taking bones and warping them. bones appearing in the pages but Wrong. might be related to the bag of teeth, too, hundreds of All The Same Tooth

definitely something to the... immortalization of thoughts/memories/Consciousness through written word, especially when we consider the words literally tattooed into mary keay’s skin/the book possibly bound in her skin. i cant put a coherent thought together on this but its definitely... important, i think 

sebastian also for some reason specifically mentions he was holding a copy of Stephen King’s Misery in the confrontation with Jared’s mother, which is a story about an author being forced to write something against his will/words that aren’t really his own, to appease someone else, which. seems like it might be relevant somehow too, maybe. the fact that it was named specifically when it wasn’t apparently relevant to the story seems interesting 

[vitanes]

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 6: first times gone wrong

Lucas tries to deal with the aftermath of what he’s done with Chloé and he’s doing a terrible a job at it. Not to mention there are other problems coming up.

(a/n: theres a brief description of vomiting and a mild panic attack in the first scene)

Lucas is trying his hardest not to panic. His breaths are shallow, skin itchy and he’s lying still. He’s seen a used condom thrown next to the bed. There are scraps of memories from the night before flooding his mind and Lucas wants to disappear from here.

He most likely slept with Chloé. Had sex with her. Fuck, he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. How could he have let this happen? Does he not have an ounce of self-control? If so, he shouldn’t be allowed to drink alcohol.

Chloé stirs in her sleep and presses herself closer against Lucas’ side. He freezes and becomes very aware of their current state. They are fucking naked. They’re skin on skin. Her breasts are rubbing against his shoulder. It’s definitely too much and he needs to leave. He needs to be out of here in an instant or he’ll lose it.

He can’t believe he slept with her. Every time he closes his eyes there are images of her kissing him, them undressing and fucking. He needs to bleach his brain. The echoes of the sounds she was making are nauseating. Lucas shivers. 

There are a hum and a giggle. Lucas looks down and realises he’s got a very awake and naked girl on himself now.

She glances up at him, a blush spreading over her cheeks and down her neck, disappearing under the covers.

“Hello,” she says, her voice tinged with sleep. She props herself up on her elbow to leave a kiss on Lucas’ lips and he gets an eyeful of her naked body, the covers slipping off her chest.

“What happened?” he asks weakly when she leans away. He’s looking everywhere but at Chloé, blinking his eyes as not to let the tears spill.

Chloé’s lips start roaming around Lucas’ chest, sucking on his skin here and there. Leaving marks Lucas doesn’t want on his body. “We got here. You had some problems down there, but eventually, your body got the memo. And we, you know, fucked,” she mutters between kisses, shrugging by the time she says the last words. “You couldn’t stay up for long, probably too wasted,” she adds as an afterthought and chuckles, her teeth grazing over his nipple. “So you had to finish me up with your fingers. No big deal.” She looks up at him, smiling coyly.

Lucas gazes down at his palm, back up at Chloé and at his palm again, terrified.

“You don’t remember?”

He shakes his head, his eyes still haven’t moved away from his fingers. “I do. Some of it,” he whispers. Lucas was just hoping it’d turn out to be some fucked up dream and in reality, they only took their clothes off and went to sleep.

Chloé snorts and begins leaving kisses up his neck. “We’re both sober now. I’m sure it can go better,” she purrs and Lucas feels her hand sliding down his stomach.

Lucas opens his mouth to stay something, but his throat is too tight he can’t let out a sound. His pulse speeds up. He coughs. “I have to go,” he eventually manages to crack out. Clumsily, he escapes from under her and grabs his clothes.

“What?” she asks indignantly.

Lucas glances up at her and is filled with instant regret. She’s completely exposed. He shuts his eyes and blindly puts on a shirt. “Was it your first time?” he asks, his voice shaky.

“What kind of question is that?” Her tone is growing angrier.

“Just answer, please,” he begs her, tugging his briefs and pants on.

“It wasn’t,” she replies coldly.

Lucas sighs with relief and reaches out for his phone that’s lying dangerously close to the condom. “Good. Forget it happened,” he says, his eyes straying away from Chloé.

“What the fuck, Lucas?” she yells after him as he starts literally running out of the room and the flat. He doesn’t ponder on whose this place is and how they had access to it, simply wanting to be far away from here.

Once he’s outside the building, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, he rounds the corner and stops. He supports himself against the wall. Lucas’ hands are shaking and swallowing comes to him with great effort. He starts gasping for air to the point his throat is burning. His vision gets blurry and he bends in the middle.

He doesn’t even realise he’s puking at first, but when he does it’s hard to ignore. He starts full on crying halfway through, not being able to contain it anymore. He coughs up the vomit up until there’s nothing left and all he can do dry heave against the wall, his body uncontrollably shaking.

Lucas can’t breathe, can’t move and the smell of acid reaches his nostrils. He cries harder, clutching onto the wall to the point his knuckles turn white and his nails get damaged.

He falls down to his knees, most likely into all of his puke, and presses his forehead against the rough surface of the wall. He grits his teeth and wails. If he could, he’d scream but he thinks that he’d have to harm his vocal cords in order to let it all out. Lucas feels dirty and tired. He wants everything to stop so it won’t get even worse.

Why on earth did he do that? What’s gotten into his drunk, fucked up mind? Why does he hate himself so fucking much?

And Chloé, fuck, Chloé didn’t deserve a below average fuck with a closeted guy who apparently can’t even get it up. He shouldn’t have gotten anywhere near her. Near anyone, to be honest. He’s a fucking disaster, it’s astounding no one has realised that yet.

A shudder runs through his body and he breathes in harshly. In another universe, Lucas was enough. He and Chloé had fun and he didn’t run off. He was fucking normal.

In this one, he’s covered in Chloé’s cum, his vomit and smells like the mixture of the two, sweat and alcohol. He’s so grossed out. He wants to crawl out of his skin.

Lucas’ calms down even if the shivers still shake up his body and stands up. He doesn’t look down to see how dirty he is. He wipes his face with his hands and starts walking. He ignores the weird looks people throw his way, ignores the insistent buzzing in his pocket and throbbing in the tips of his fingers.

Lucas has no idea how long it takes him to get to the flat nor does he know what time it is. Once he’s home, he hangs his jacket by the door and takes his steps towards the bathroom. He doesn’t pay attention to Manon, Mika and Lisa, who greet him from the living room, and locks the door before he takes his clothes off.

He doesn’t put them in the basket, deciding he’ll throw them away as soon as he’s clean. He won’t be able to wear them again without remembering how much he hates himself.

Lucas gets in the shower and turns on the water. It’s nearly boiling, but he doesn’t care. He reaches out for his sponge, pours a few drops of shower gel on it and starts scrubbing his skin. He does it pressing the sponge hard, trying to clean the dirt off himself. He doesn’t want to feel Chloé on himself anymore but no matter how raw and red his skin is by the time he’s finished, he still can’t shake the events of the last night off himself.

Sliding down to a sitting position, Lucas hugs his knees to his chest and hides his face between them. And then he cries, and cries, and cries until he’s run out of all of the tears in his body.

The water washes them away, unlike the shame and humiliation he can’t get rid of.

After the shower, he goes to his bedroom and shuts the door closed. Like in trance, he turns his phone off, ignoring all of the notifications and crawls into his bed. He doesn’t leave it for the rest of the day.

 ***

 Sunday morning comes and goes. Lucas has only left his room to use the toilet. He hasn’t spoken to anyone and they must have understood he isn’t in the mood to be bothered by anyone.

He’s floating, not sure whether he’s awake or asleep most of the time. He’s numb, staring at the ceiling. There are no thoughts passing through his mind, only consistent white noise.

It must be midday by the time he hears knocking on his door. Lucas doesn’t acknowledge it, not having enough energy to care.

The door opens and his bed dips under someone’s weight.

“Hey, Lucas,” someone whispers gently, brushing their knuckles over the side of his face. Lucas’ eyes jump over to them and he sees it’s Mika, looking down on him with concern painted all over his features. “You haven’t eaten anything ever since you got back yesterday. Or left your room. We’re worried about you.”

Lucas gulps. “I’m fine,” he mumbles.

“You’re clearly not,” Mika states matter-of-factly, frowning.

“I did something with someone I shouldn’t have done it with,” Lucas says, his voice cracking in the middle. He turns on his side and hides his face in the pillow. He already said too much. He can’t have Mika figuring it out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mika asks, rubbing comforting circles over Lucas’ back. Lucas shakes his head. “Do you want me to stay?”

Does he? A part of him wants to isolate himself from the whole world, disappear completely. But another part of him, the one craving human contact, wants to clutch on Mika’s shoulder and beg him not to leave.

“Go, I’ll be okay.” The first one wins as it always does. He builds yet another wall around himself, determined not to let anyone in.

Mika sighs and squeezes Lucas’ shoulder. “Alright. But I’m here. And Manon, and Lisa. We got your back,” Mika says and stands up.

Lucas wants to say thank you but the words are stuck in his throat. Mika leaves and Lucas starts sobbing once more.

A few hours later someone visits him again, interrupting his pity nap. His head snaps towards the cracked door.

Manon doesn’t come inside, only her head is peeking from behind the door. Lucas is grateful for that.

“I’ve cooked dinner and um… turns out there’s too much for one person. If you don’t want to eat now, I can wrap it up and put it in the fridge?” she asks, nervously biting down on her lower lip.

Lucas wants to cry from completely different reasons now. Manon’s been doing it for a week or so, having “too much” food for herself and sharing it with Lucas. She must have noticed he hasn’t been eating anything resembling a proper meal. And it’s not a secret he’s got no money.

Lucas nods. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

She smiles at him and quietly closes the door behind herself.

Lucas curls up into himself, willing to shut everything off.

 ***

 He doesn’t go to school on Monday. Lucas is far from ready for the boys asking him questions about what went down on Friday. If anything, he’d rather forget anything happened at all, although he’s not sure it’s possible. There are still faded hickeys splattered over his skin and his gut is churning every time images from that night come to his mind. Reliving it all, pretending he enjoyed a second of it for the sake of his friends is not in his repertoire.

Lucas wants quiet – and that’s exactly what he gets on Monday. He cracks his door open and all he hears is blissful nothing. Mika and Lisa have gone to work and Manon to school.

Lucas is all alone, free of pity and questions. Free of pressure.

He hasn’t turned his phone on; he doubts he’s going to do so any time soon. He wants to act like nothing exists, build a bubble around himself that will give him safety he can’t get from nowhere else. He’ll brace himself and go to school tomorrow, be ready to put on a mask for his friends. But he needs one more day. 

He leaves his bedroom, freshens himself up and takes his steps to the kitchen. Lucas opens the fridge and his eyes skim over the shelves. His looks poor and pathetic. No wonder Manon has taken mercy on him. Aside from what she’s left for him, there are three slices of salami, a half-finished stick of butter and two eggs. Organic ones.

Lucas sighs and his eyes move over to the carefully wrapped plate in the middle of his shelf. The food looks soggy by now, but it’s more he could wish for and he takes it out. Lucas unwraps it and puts it in the microwave.

Logically, Lucas knows he hasn’t eaten in a long time so he’s tired and out of energy and that’s why once he’s finished with the meal, there’s more strength and warmth inside of him. But still, he can’t help thinking that what fills him up now is Manon’s care she transferred into what she was cooking.

Maybe it’s Lucas’ stupid yearning for someone giving a shit about him.

It doesn’t change the fact every cell in his body is upset at the moment and wants to disappear. So after washing the plate he goes back to his room and lets himself drift off.

 ***

 It’s taken all of Lucas’ willpower to drag himself to school on Tuesday morning. He hasn’t bothered checking his notifications nor does he know what assignments he had to prepare for today. The fact he’s waiting in front of the school building, counting the minutes until the first bell to ring shouldn’t fool anyone. He’s this close from running away.

His friends haven’t said anything to him besides greetings. Yet. They’ve been giving him questioning looks ever since he arrived. Even Eliott seems concerned so Lucas can’t really shield himself with him. What a shame.

What Lucas is sure of is that something is coming. He can feel it in the air. They’re too tense, too awkward and clumsy in their conversations Lucas is mostly tuning out.

His eyes move over the schoolyard and momentarily all blood drains from his face. Chloé is here, making her way towards the entrance.

Lucas turns away before she can notice him and holds his breath until he sees her entering the building out of the corner of his eye.

He exhales loudly and drags a hand over his face, feeling nauseous all of sudden. He doesn’t want to go in there.

Lucas glances briefly towards the boys and sees that all of them have gone quiet and are watching him now. Oh, well.

“What was that?” Arthur asks.

Lucas shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Dude, she was trying to kill you with her eyes,” Basile says, gesticulating wildly.

Lucas can’t blame her. He treated her like shit.

“What exactly happened between you two?” Yann asks, his tone soft and curious.

Lucas feels trapped. They’re all looking at him, scrutinising him and he can feel his palms getting clammy. If he doesn’t address the issue, they won’t drop it. Unless he bullshits them or acts normally, but he can’t see himself acting like usual. Not in his current state. He had troubles dragging himself out of the bed in the morning, too scared of confrontations, of questions. Of having to explain his absence.

He should tell them ‘we had sex, it didn’t go well’ and get it over with, but he’s so ashamed of himself, too terrified of saying it out loud and making it real. He can’t bring himself to utter those words. Lucas wants to forget and he can’t do that here, with his friends.

His heart is beating loudly, too loudly for him to barely hear himself speaking over it when he says, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lucas needs to get out of here. He can’t risk running into Chloé, can’t have Yann’s big brown eyes demanding answers Lucas isn’t up to giving. He won’t stand it for the whole day. He can’t even take it now.

The bell rings. The guys start walking, but Lucas’ legs are glued to the ground. He can’t move. The boys stop in their tracks and look at him.

“You coming?” Yann asks, one of his eyebrows raised.

Lucas shakes his head and clears his throat. “No, I’m not feeling so well,” he lets out.

They all watch him for a few seconds that feel like an eternity.

“Let us know when you get home,” Arthur whispers. Yann and Basile hum in agreement all the while Eliott steps towards Lucas.

“I’ll walk you, okay?” he asks, looking at Lucas meaningfully and for some reason, Lucas nods.

“Okay, we really need to go. But see you later,” Arthur says and waves at them before he, Yann and Basile disappear in the building.

Lucas and Eliott are left there, staring at each other for a long moment.

“You didn’t have to,” Lucas blurts out, his cheeks turning red. All he wanted was to leave and not deal with the guys and their question, but then he went and agreed on Eliott keeping him company. That’s stupid.

“I wanted to.” Eliott shrugs. “Do you really want to go home?”

Lucas thinks for a long moment. Would coming back to the flat be a good idea? He’s really distraught at the moment and Lucas isn’t sure that cooping up in his bedroom can end up well. He’s not as shaken up as he was during the weekend, sure, but what’s just happened affected him badly.

He shakes his head. He needs a distraction.

Eliott gives him a half-smile. “Come on,” he says and turns on his heel, not checking whether Lucas follows him.

Lucas hesitantly catches up to him and soon enough they are out of the school grounds. Presumably, they’re going nowhere, but Lucas can see an intent over Eliott’s face.

They don’t speak, not at first. Walking together in a comfortable silence is good. Lucas isn’t completely alone with his mind, but he isn’t pressured to say what’s happening either. He appreciates that.

He’s got no idea how much time passes until they stop, but by the way Lucas keeps sniffing and the tip of his nose is nearly frozen, he assumes they’ve been walking around for longer than he’d think.

“It’s a gate,” Lucas deadpans, seeing how Eliott is fiddling with a rusted chain.

Eliott smirks at him over the shoulder. “Oh, is it?” He wiggles his eyebrows and gets back to the task at hand.

Lucas rolls his eyes but with no ounce of annoyance. He watches Eliott struggle with the chain for a while and then it drops down. Eliott opens the gate and they both go in.

The place is big and seems like an abandoned park. Lucas takes it all in and then realises Eliott has moved forward. He joins him.

“What’s this place?”

Eliott shrugs. “I don’t know. I found it a few years ago. I like to come here when I want to be alone,” he explains, his eyes straying over the trees. “You’re the first person I’ve actually brought here,” he admits, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Not even your ex?”

“You’re first,” Eliott repeats, looking up at the sky.

Lucas doesn’t mull over this information much, but feels warmth spreading over his chest at the fact Eliott wanted to show him his place. It means he hasn’t shown it to the boys he’s had a good relationship with from the beginning. It means he hasn’t brought Arthur here.

“Are you and Arthur dating now?” he asks, kicking a rock to the side. Eliott huffs. 

“Are you and Chloé?” Eliott retorts back and Lucas frowns.

“God, no.”

“See.”

“But I saw you at the party.” Lucas knows it’s a weak argument because it’s not like he wasn’t making out with Chloé at the party either.

Eliott scratches at the side his head, his nose scrunched up. “We were drunk. Kinda upset. One thing led to another. Sometimes you just feel like making out,” he says, his tone nonchalant.  

“I slept with Chloé,” Lucas confesses and sees that Eliott’s steps falter for a second before they get back to normal.

“Oh. That’s nice?” He looks at Lucas unsurely.

“I hate everything about it,” Lucas admits. “At least it wasn’t her first time.” He glances briefly towards Eliott and sees him watching him.

“But it was yours?” he asks, figuring Lucas out quickly. Maybe too quickly.

Lucas nods, his fingers curling into fists. “I spent whole Saturday crying,” he shrugs one shoulder, “It’s stupid, I know.” He can’t exactly tell Eliott the reasons behind his breakdown but he needs to say at least a bit of it instead of keeping it inside.

“It’s not stupid. But I think that glorification of first times is such bullshit. And then when it’s bad and disappointing it fucks people over. Listen, my first time wasn’t brilliant either and it was with someone I was in love with. Don’t let it get to you that much.”

“If I wanted to do it and it was with someone I was attracted to, I wouldn’t mind it going bad at first,” Lucas murmurs. It’s the fact he doesn’t like Chloé, he doesn’t remember shit and Chloé is a fucking girl.

“Why did you do it if you don’t like her?” Eliott asks, genuinely confused.

That’s what’s expected of me, he wants to say but ends up with, “I was drunk and she was there.” Wow, the award for the douche of the year goes to Lucas Lallemant. “The guys wanted me to,” he adds nervously. He doesn’t want Eliott to think Lucas uses women or something.

“I’m sure they didn’t want you to have sex with someone you aren’t into and have trauma because of it.”

“They wouldn’t stop pressuring me to do stuff with her. I was tired. And drunk.” The fact he met the guy he’s having problems because of at the moment, earlier that night and then saw Eliott and Arthur making out so freely only added to it. But in the end, he’s got no one else but himself to blame.

“You can’t just do everything the society tells you.”

It’s easier said than done.

Eliott stops and Lucas looks around. He notices a path leading to a bridge and after a few seconds recognition dawns on him.

“Isn’t it the place from your short movie?” he asks Eliott, pointing at the bridge and the tunnel underneath it. Eliott only grins at him cheekily and walks forward, tugging on Lucas’ sleeve to drag him with himself.

It’s dark when they get to the tunnel. They find themselves a place to sit down against the wall and plop down. Lucas hopes his clothes won’t get too dirty.

“You know, you don’t have to treat it as your first time if you don’t want to,” Eliott says thoughtfully. “I don’t count my first ever kiss as my first kiss for example. We barely touched lips and he smelled of garlic. Once you have it with someone you enjoy it, you can claim it as your first. That with Chloé? It was an error.” Lucas can hear a smile in Eliott’s voice and he looks to the side to get a glimpse of it.

“How long you and your girlfriend were together?” Lucas asks.

“A couple of years. Mostly on and off, though. It was so bad at the end,” Eliott says, magically pulling a joint and a lighter out of his pocket. He presents it to Lucas with a ‘ta da!’ and Lucas chuckles. It’s a little rumpled but will do. Eliott lights the joint up, takes a drag and passes it to Lucas. “We got toxic at some point. We weren’t good for each other. And the whole time we were together I was searching for something I couldn’t feel with her. That’s why we were on and off. I’d meet someone new, think they are it and break up with her. Turns out it wasn’t what I wanted and I’d go back to her.”

“And she took you back?” Lucas asks, giving the joint back to Eliott.

“Like I said, toxic, so yeah. But then some shit happened, I had to change schools. I got here and finally had an epiphany. I decided to end it once and for all. She didn’t take it well, but it was good for both of us.” Eliott lets out a thick cloud of smoke and for a second Lucas is mesmerised before he catches on and takes the joint to himself.

“You won’t tell me why you had to change schools, right?” Lucas asks, drumming his fingers over his knee.

“Maybe one day.” Eliott smiles at him, his eyes full of sparks.

 ***

 Lucas gets slightly better after the day he spends with Eliott. He’s less shaky, gets back to school and tries to act normal. He still avoids confronting with Chloé and gets worried looks from his friends, but no one asks him any questions and it’s easier to just be.

There’s this want in him to kick his past self for not realising Eliott was so awesome sooner.

Still, though. Things aren’t as perfect as Lucas wishes them to be. He can’t focus on school, he can’t sleep. He starts worrying about what he’s going to do with the blackmailer once he checks his bank account and sees there isn’t much. Every time he catches Chloé watching him he feels like throwing up again. He’s stressed out and the fact that Yann keeps trying to reach out to him through intense gazes gets insufferable. By Thursday, apparently neither of them can take it.

They’re coming back from lunch, another one Lucas sat through empty-handed and Yann stops Lucas by grabbing his elbow, letting the guys get ahead of them. 

“What’s happening, Lucas?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Lucas looks around and opens his mouth, but Yann beats him to it. “Don’t say everything’s fine, it’s bullshit.”

Lucas clamps his mouth shut.

“You don’t have money? And what the fuck happened on Friday between you and Chloé that made you like this? You go MIA for three days, come back looking like death and then ditch school again. What’s going on?”

Yann doesn’t look angry, only concerned. And that’s what’s the worst about it. If Yann was mad at him, Lucas could lash out at him, scream as much as he wants to without feeling that guilty. But Yann is gentle with him, worried and Lucas can’t stop his chin from wobbling and body from shaking by the time Yann is done.

Man, he’s so tired. He’d love to tell Yann all about what’s going on; that his father doesn’t give a fuck about him and hasn’t replied to any of his messages literally begging for money, that there’s someone wanting to out him, that he’s had sex with Chloé and feels disgusted with himself for it.

That he’s gay and sometimes he’d rather be dead.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Lucas lets out in a weak voice and Yann’s eyes widen.

“You think I wouldn’t? I’m your best friend, Lucas.”

“That doesn’t change a thing,” he mutters and now Yann looks like he’s been slapped in the face. He lets go of his arm and steps back.

“I’m so worried about you, I just want to be there for you and know what’s going on with you, fuck. But fine, don’t want to talk? Whatever. Stop worrying everyone then and we’ll get over it. And if you, by any chance, want to say something, you know how to find me,“ he mutters and before Lucas can say anything, rushes off in a different direction.

Lucas stays there, in the middle of the corridor, his lips parted and eyes glassy. Breathing is difficult, but he takes a few deep inhales, willing his heart to stop beating so fast. He blinks his eyes a couple of times and sniffs.

He simply needs to start acting like a typical Lucas, fully ignoring every single issue in his life. Easy.

 ***

 A few tentative knocks on his door and Lucas knows it’s bad news. It’s Friday, bad things happen on Fridays. That’s his life.

Mika doesn’t wait for an invitation, but opens the door and walks in. He radiates anxious energy and Lucas squints at him. Did he forget to clean up? Does Mika want to address weird sobbing sounds coming from Lucas’ room every few nights?

“What’s up?” Lucas asks.

“Well. It’s awful that I have to say it. I don’t even know how to start.”

So it’s not about cleaning up.

“It’s the best to start from the beginning,” Lucas suggests and gets a tight smile in return.

“So, we have to pay our rent if we live here.” Well, Lucas knows where this is going. And it doesn’t seem like Mika’s typical nagging. It’s serious now and that’s what Lucas has been scared of for the past few weeks. “I know you’ve told me you were going to handle it, but… you haven’t paid for the last month and soon we will have to pay for this one. Lisa and I, we covered your rent last time. But you know we aren’t like, loaded or something.” Lucas didn’t even know they did that. But it makes sense, otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to pay the whole thing to the owner and their media would be cut off. “We love having you here, and if it depended on me I’d let you stay for free. We know you have problems. But the owner, man, he doesn’t care. He,” Mika stops and looks to the side. Lucas notices he’s wringing his fingers.

“Yeah?”

“He said that if you don’t pay, you’re out. He’s already unhappy we’re letting Manon stay here.”

Realisation hits Lucas so hard he nearly tumbles over. “You’re kicking me out,” he says under his breath, his voice weak and small.

He’s got no other place to go.

Mika gasps. “No, no, no. We aren’t. But you need to pay rent. And not soon, but like instantly? I hate delivering this news to you.” Mika says, apologetic.

Lucas needs to go. He needs to leave, like now.

Without much thinking, he grabs his phone and gets out of the room.

“Lucas? Where are you going?” Mika asks, following him. Lucas doesn’t answer. He puts on his jacket and shoes and literally bolts out of the flat.

By the time he’s reached the end of staircase and is nearly out of the building, he’s ringing his father.

Five signals, that’s how long Lucas is waiting for him to answer.

“What?” He sounds just as unpleasant as Lucas remembers.

“I need money for rent,” he says, hoping he doesn’t sound as desperate as he feels.

“I transferred you already.”

“Yeah, last fucking month. I don’t have any and I’m about to be kicked out.” He starts pacing, dragging his feet over the pavement.

“Watch your tone. It should have lasted you. Not my fault you keep spending it on stupid things.”

Lucas wants to punch him so badly. “Dad, I’ll be homeless. Please, send me enough for rent. You owe me.” He’s about to start crying again. He’s been crying a lot nowadays. He starts walking forward, not really caring where to.

“I don’t owe you anything, you brat.”

“You left me and mom.” How can he say that he doesn’t owe him anything? How can he just not care at all? Lucas has no one else to rely on and his father is turning his back on him.

“I’m paying for her stay in the clinic. I have to live, too. And I send you enough every month. You think you can live on your own? You should be responsible with your money,” he barks out. It seems as if he’s putting the blame on Lucas, on the fact he’s moved out. But what else was he supposed to do? He tried taking care of his mom, but it didn’t work out. He was only her son, he couldn’t work a miracle. He had to get away.

“You haven’t sent this month, though. I don’t have enough for food, let alone to pay for my room. I’m your son, you have to–“

“I don’t have to do anything. And I’m not sleeping on money, either.”

“Please. Please, just for rent,” Lucas pleads, his voice breaking. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if his father doesn’t give him money. He’s got no one else to ask.

The silence answers him and then his dad hangs up. Just like that. Lucas is appalled at first and he stops. He keeps staring at his phone until the screen goes dark. Then he panics when he tries to call again and again, but it goes straight to voicemail now.

“Please, I have no one else to ask. Please,” he says into his phone, clutching on it so hard to the point his knuckles turn white.

He gets no reply.

It’s then that Lucas realises how fucked he is. No money to have a home, to eat and to pay off the blackmailer. He can’t imagine his life now. It’s ended. He’s completely helpless. Lucas can’t ask anyone else to provide for him, he can’t go back to the flat. He doesn’t have enough courage to face any of his friends.

He’s completely alone. He always is.

Lucas leans his forehead against the wall and lets out a guttural sound, his teeth gritted. He wishes he could cease to exist. He can’t take all of this anymore. It’s too much to handle, he thought he was strong enough, but turns out some things are much bigger than him.

Lucas is bone-tired, exhausted beyond the point of explanation. After all, he’s just a simple teenager, not cut out to deal with all of that.

He punches the wall. Once, twice. He loses count. He needs to let out all of that somehow and there are no other ideas in his head than just ripping his skin on the rough concrete. He’s already damaged and torn apart, no harm can make it worse. And this way he can at the very least release some of that’s been piling up inside of him for weeks if not months.

Maybe it’s started when his father left. Or before that, when all he could hear were screams of his parents and his mother’s cry.  

Everything’s always been surrounded by pain, ever since he can remember. So now he embraces it, he hits the wall up until there’s piercing ache shooting up from his fingers and then a little more up to the moment he can’t move his hand anymore.

He exhales through the snot dripping down his nose and coughs, bringing his shaking hand before his eyes. Lucas looks down and reaches his uninjured fingers towards his bloody knuckles. He sniffs, trying to gently maneuver them but giving up when he can’t stand the sensations. He clutches the hand to his chest and slides down to the pavement.

Lucas ignores the buzzing of his phone in the pocket of his jacket, ignores his damaged fingers or the way the sky has turned dark.

He’s fine. Totally fine.

[blondecarfucker]

Bed of Roses (Chapter 20)

Roger Taylor x Reader

BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Fic Summary: It's 1971. You just moved to London to study, and you find a band on a local pub after a bad date. The encounter doesn’t go the way you expect it, and neither does what follows this evening as you try to deal with loving Roger Taylor.

Fic Note: So I’ve had this story in my head for the last three weeks and finally decided to write it down. It’s completely planned. It will have 21 chapters and it’s divided in three acts: Dusk, Night and Dawn. It’s will be a bit angsty in the future, and it will most likely have some smut as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! Tell me what you think about it in the asks/comments/messages. PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER OF THE STORY. If this is your first time stumbling upon Bed of Roses, thank you for stopping by! The rest of the story is in my masterlist, the link is in my bio - can't put the link here or else the post will disappear from the tags.

Chapter's notes: GUYS THIS TOOK SO LONG AND IM SORRY. im actually in another city at the moment and yeah, having free time has been a bit hard - i wrote this mostly on a plane and now im editing it on an uber on my way to class. BUT, theres only one more chapter to go!!! WTF!!!! its so close to the end???? i mean?????? but its been an amazing journey and mostly thanks to you all!! more thanks on the next chapter where im gonna be so cheesy thanking you all, just wait. anyway, nice fun sexy chapter to heal our hearts from the break up and stuff! hope you enjoy

Words: around 4k

Warnings: smut, alcohol, swearing probably. all in good fun tho. probably some errors cause its been a busy week

 ACT 3 - DAWN

"It's the moment night time seems weaker and everything seems easier to figure out"

Chapter 20

Paris

You hold Roger's hand as you wait in line for the immigration officer to check your passports. The activity in itself is something the both of you did many, many times before - you travelled a lot with the band.

But this was different. You were not only alone with Roger, but there was nothing concerning you - his mood, your job, nothing. You feel at ease.

Roger's idea to go somewhere where none of you knew very well was brilliant. Since you're outside of your comfort zone anyways, you were both more easy going, not overthinking anything, just spontaneous. You knew the time where you would talk about your relationship and how you want to deal with everything would come, but you weren't stressing about it. You would think about it once the time came - there was no reason to be concerned now.

Cause now you could only feel Roger's touch, hear him humming something - you couldn't believe he was humming La Vie En Rose, the most cliche Paris song of all times, but of course he was. His shoulders are relaxed, and he brushes his thumb against the skin on your hand. His smell is all around you.

You could really immerse in the presence each other, now. Ever since you left London, where almost everything between you happened, you didn't really knew anything else - the fields on the window, the french being spoken by the people on the cabin next to yours. So you just laid your head on his lap as he ran his fingers through your hair and told you about the little things you missed.

His eyesight has gotten worse, and now he can't really do anything without his contacts. He met David Bowie in an award show, and he thought of you - he knew how much you liked him. He still knew all of Fleetwood Mac's 1974 album songs by heart - he kept the album you left in the old flat.

And also stuff about the boys. John's kid was a cute, quiet boy, just like his dad, and he didn't enjoy any of Roger's songs when he went to rehearsals. Veronica was pregnant with another baby - Roger's pretty sure it's a girl. Brian was still thinking about finishing his PhD, but never got around doing it - his schedule is too crazy. Freddie was growing tired of the long hair and clean face, and kept thinking about changing his looks, but couldn't decide on what he would do. He told you that ever since Freddie and Mary broke up, he started seeing more guys - none of you thought much about it. It was just another aspect of Freddie's life.

Roger kept writing songs now, even when they were on tour or at home. He was getting annoyed at the "No Synths" rule in the band, and tried to convince them to drop it. But he was happy with the new album - he enjoyed how they simplified the process of writing it, and thought mostly about writing songs they can play live the same way they play it in studio. The last time they did it was in their first album.

You just kept looking up at him, his defined jaw glowing against the sun, his bright blue eyes looking down at you to watch your reaction, your grin once he told you he finally finished writing Sheer Heart Attack, a song he tried to get done and in an album ever since 1974.

And now the immigration officer called you, and you laughed as you watched Roger try to speak french to the guy before taking the matter into your own hands.

And when he asked you what was your relationship with him, you just smiled and said "mon copain".

-

You knew Roger chose the hotel as you packed in London, sitting between all the boxes so he could use your phone. You didn't pay attention to which hotel he picked, but once you got to the Champs-Élysées, you knew he spent too much money.

You got off the cab at the Four Seasons George V Hotel, a building that was basically a modern castle, and you stared at him, shocked. "Roger, you didn't do this", you told him, your eyes wide as you entered the spacious and luxurious lobby, your luggage already being taken to your room as the lady on front desk recognized Roger. "Did what?", he asked jokingly, raising his brow at you, even though he knew what you meant. "This hotel. It's too nice and probably a fortune", you told him, and he shrugged. "Hey, we deserve it. We always did. But now we can afford it", he winked, and then took the room keys from the front desk.

"C'mon, I want to see how you're going to react to the Penthouse Suite", he laughed, and you coughed. "Um, I'm sorry? The what now?", you asked, and he playfully pulled you into the elevator.

He kept looking at you the whole lift ride, excited and nervous - he wanted you to like it, to enjoy his efforts, to take him back into your life somehow.

When he opened the door and walked to the side, his old genuine smile was back on his lips, and you couldn't help but smile back, even before taking a glimpse into the room.

And what you saw surprised you - everything looked expensive, but still comfortable. You first entered a huge living room, and every couch looked comfortable enough to sleep in. Then you walked to the bedroom, and the huge bed caught your eye - it was big enough to fit comfortably at least five of you. The bathroom looked like a spa, a huge bathtub in the middle of it, a delicate statue of a woman under the window that overlooked the Champs-Élysées.

You walked to the balcony with Roger beside you, and he laughed when you gasped.

The Eiffel Tower looked back at you, glimmering at the sunset.

You looked at Roger.

"You're unbelievable, you know."

He smirked. "I'm just trying to get you in bed, though", he told you, and you laughed as you walked closer to him.

"You did that when you didn't have a penny, Rog. You don't have to get us a huge suite with artwork everywhere and a view of the Eiffel Tower", you said, bringing him closer to you by his collar as he snaked his arms around your waist.

"I never have to do anything. I do it because I want to. Because I love you", he whispered, his breath against your lips, teasing, feeling like the ghost of a touch.

"I love you, Roger", you told him, moving your hands to the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

-

You held his hand as the cool wind passed through your bodies. It was the next day, and you've decided to walk to the Louvre by the side of the Seine.

It would be faster if you got on a cab, but the view of the Seine, the sounds of the city and the smell of pastries and perfume made everything feel even more like a dream. You were still tired from last night, and the night before it - you and Roger were acting like a couple in honeymoon ever since you met again, stolen kisses and arms wrapped around each other, trying to make up for the lack of touch in the last couple years.

And once you were alone, you'd hug and touch and kiss and fuck passionately wherever - sloppy kisses and love bites all over each other, first in London and now here. It didn't feel like you were together again for only about 36 hours - so much has happened, yet time passed by so fast. It was like you lost touch with reality ever since you looked at his hands on the pub.

When you thought of being alone in New York, it felt like a past life. But the weird thing was how your first years with Roger also felt like another life - you wouldn't act the way you did again, ever. But you were grateful for both times of your life. You felt like you could never get here, to Paris and to Roger, if those things didn't happen.

You got to the Louvre and you were surprised at Roger's interest - he wasn't simply acting interested while trying to get you to leave somewhere else with him. He was genuinely interested in the art, commenting about each style and dropping trivia about artists.

"Someone has been spending some time with Freddie, I suppose", you noted, and he gave you a half smile. "Well, the person responsible for bringing culture into my days spend some time away. I had to look for substitutes", he said, and you jokingly nudged at him.

He still looked at you adoringly once you started talking to him about the excellent state of conservation the mummy was in, or once you started analysing "L’Européenne".

You both kept quiet as you watched the Mona Lisa, only holding hands as you tried to get closer to the painting, dozens of visitors separating you from it. It was a time for reflection, too. The Mona Lisa invited you to think about yourselves, her neutral expression making you wonder - seeing it was one of your life long goals, and now you're realizing it with Roger. Being with Roger was something else you struggled to achieve, ever since the first time you saw him. But now it was the time to realize dreams - hell, you'll start working at the British Museum in a few days.

But you got distracted as soon as you got to the Venus de Milo. Roger snaked his arms around your waist from behind you and pressed a slow kiss under your lobe before whispering "You look just like her".

You felt a goosebump on your neck, but you tried to laugh it off. "I can think of a few things we don't have in common, though", you said, and he rubbed his nose on the curve of your neck. "Like what?", he whispered.

"I'm gonna start the list with the basics: arms", you told him, and he laughed against your skin. "I can think of a few other things, too", he tells you, back at kissing your neck. "Yeah? Like what?", you asked, and he sucks on your skin for a few moments, hitching your breath. "Your skin is softer", he says, and then lightly bites you, running his tongue over it to sooth it. "And you taste amazing. Everywhere", he whispers again, and you bite your lips as you feel another goosebump on your neck, and it didn't go unnoticed by Roger. "And the way you react to me”, he whispered, wetting his lips. "God, it kills me", he said, running his fingers over the area where the goosebump was.

It was a public place, but it didn't cross your mind when you turned around and pulled him in for a kiss, making it deeper as your tongue massaged Roger’s. His fingers brushed over your exposed skin, and you could feel how strong his grip on your waist was, wrinkling the fabric of your summer dress - probably inappropriate. You pulled him even closer to you by his hair, already used to its new length after two nights. It was only when you broke apart to recover your breath that you noticed how you were making out in a public place, and only because Roger told you.

"I know we're in public and I'm trying to be more discrete now, but all this artwork just made you look even more beautiful, like you belong around them. I just couldn't hold myself any longer", he said.

-

The warm water ran through your fingers as you filled the bathtub, only in your robe, as Roger spoke with the concierge on the bedroom. He told you he was getting champagne, but you didn't see why the concierge would go to the bedroom for it. Anyways, you wanted a warm bath.

After the Venus, you and Roger had a hard time keeping your hands away from each other. So you didn’t argue when he suggested you take a cab to the hotel.

The cabbie was an older man with a very rosy skin, and he barely knew how to speak english, but he sure tried - specially with Roger. You were suspecting he knew who Roger is, and Roger apparently thought the same, an amused look on his face as the driver tried to continue the conversation with him.

He was looking amused for another reason, too. His hands took his time on your legs, his long fingers brushing over your inner thighs, making you press them together as you tried to control your breathing. Roger kept talking to the driver as he slowly moved his fingers closer to you again, and you bit your lips to hold a moan when he pressed two fingers against your core.

You were already wet from all the teasing, and it goes through the lace of your lingerie, wetting Roger’s digits. He took his fingers away from you, and you frown as he rubs his two fingers against his thumb, smirking at you.

Then the driver asks him something and he turns to answer, putting his hand on your knees and then quickly sliding them up, moving them to your core again, massaging your clit for a few seconds. He looks at you so he can see your reaction, and you can hear the driver’s voice as you grip on Roger’s arm so he keeps touching you, pressing your lips together to keep quiet.

He keeps smirking as the conversation with the driver goes on, and you decide you can tease him, too. You move your hand from his arm to his leg, and he moves his gaze back into yours as you move your hand slowly to his inner thigh. His eyes get wider once you run your finger over his length, his cock already getting hard and visible through his always tight pants. The driver called his name so he answers another question, and you wrap your hand around him through the fabric of his trousers.

His breathing audibly hitches and he tries to be discrete by making it into a cough. He answers the driver and then looks at you, but you’re looking forward, innocently. He smirks again and then pulls your lingerie to the side, and, without more teasing, puts his two fingers inside of you. You gasp, and the driver looks at you suspiciously as Roger starts pumping his fingers inside of you.

But then the car stops in front of the hotel.

You take your hand away from Roger and he does the same, feeling like two children who got caught with your hands inside the cookie jar. Roger pulls out his wallet from his pocket so he can pay the cabbie, his fingers still glistening as he holds the leather wallet.

You then walk to your room without saying anything until you close the door. “So, that guy was pretty close to figuring out our little teasing game, huh”, he said, unbuttoning his shirt. “I was pretty close, too”, you said, winking, and he smirked. “I guess you want to go back to where we were before getting interrupted?” he raised his brow.

But you wanted to tease him a bit more. So you nodded a no. “Actually, Rog, I think I want to take a warm bath”, you came closer to him, wrapping your fingers on the back of his neck. “That’s a really good idea, in fact”, he said, and started undoing his belt. But you held his hand in place. “But you won’t join me”, you said, and he pouted in protest. “Not until you get me some champagne. I thought you were gonna be romantic before luring me into bed, Taylor”, you said, and he laughed. You let go of him and turn around.

“Can you unzip me, please?”, you ask, and you can hear him scoff, annoyed at your teasing, but then you feel him slowly unzipping your summer dress, then moving his hands to your shoulders as he slides your dress down.

You're not wearing a bra, so you can feel the cold wind from the AC on your hard nipples, getting even harder as you felt his lips on your neck once again, his hands pulling your dress down at your hips before it falls to the ground.

Then you move away from Roger’s grasp as you walk to the bathroom, without looking back at him, and you can feel his eyes on you as he watches your hips sway as you walk, only in your burgundy lace panties, your hair cascading on your back.

And now you’re inside the bathtub already, feeling the smell of roses and cinnamon from the bath salts you used, waiting for Roger. You hear the door close, and the concierge is gone.

“Rog? I’m waiting for you”, you say out loud, waiting for his answers. “Actually, I think I’m not in the mood for a bath. But your champagne is here”, he says, and you can hear a fake tiredness in his voice.

“Are you sure you’re gonna leave me here, alone, in this bathtub? I’m gonna have to do something to let the time pass, you know. And you’re gonna hear me do it without doing anything about it?”, you asked with an affected voice. You haven’t teased him in so long, you forgot how fun it was, especially cause he always teased you back.

“As tempting as your bathroom plans sound, I’m also alone here, you know. And your champagne is here. Can’t believe you’re gonna waste it after I got it just for you”, he said, and you laughed. You got up from the bathtub and barely dried yourself on a towel before putting your robe back on and walking to the bedroom.

Roger was sitting against the bed’s headrest, completely naked and rock hard. You moved your hand to your lips and you let out a sigh at the vision. He looked like a greek god - Apollo, maybe, with his golden locks shining against the afternoon sun, his skin glowing under the golden hour lights coming through the window. The bed was filled with red rose petals under him, the smell filling your lungs.

He opened his eyes when he heard your sigh, and he smirked at you. “Get the champagne and come here already”, he said, pointing his head at the table where a Dom Pérignon bottle sat on an ice bucket, and you did so. You climbed on top of the bed and started moving towards him. “Are you suggesting we play with food, Mr Taylor?”, you asked, and he nodded. “Give it to me and I’ll show you”, he told you, and you gave it to him as you sat on his thighs.

He popped the bottle open and some of the liquid poured over the edges. He licked it, looking at you, before undoing your robe with his free hand. He pulled it to the sides, looking at you with admiration as if he was unwrapping a Christmas gift.

You took the robe off and threw it to the side, and his free hand moved to the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. It was a slow, delicate kiss, where Roger tried showing you love, admiration, respect. Not only how much he wants you, but how much he cares about you.

But you pulled him closer to you, moving closer to him, and your bare breasts touched his naked torso, making the two of you moan.

That gave a new sense of urgency to the kiss, and after a few seconds, Roger broke it apart. “Tell me if you want me to stop”, he told you, and you nodded. He poured a bit of champagne above your collarbone, the cold liquid making you shiver, and then Roger’s tongue licked it, warm and wet.

He looked up at you to make sure you liked it, and you gave him a quick nod. He smirked, then poured champagne on your other collar bone, and licked it off again.

As you seemed to like it, he poured champagne between your breasts, licking it off right after and waiting a few seconds to see if you’d protest. He then finally poured a bit of champagne on one of your breasts, right above the nipple, licking you and the drink.

He kept doing it for a while, sucking on your skin that tasted like champagne and cinnamon, the smell of roses intoxicating him.

You broke away from his touch, and he looked at you, confused. “Can I try it?”, you asked, and he nodded, passing you the champagne bottle.

You started above his collarbone, and you could feel him moving under you. You wondered how much he would be able to wait before fucking you, considering he was already hard before you licked champagne off of him.

Once you poured champagne over his chest, you didn’t lick fast enough, and a drop of champagne rolled down on his torso. You leaned in to lick it right before it fell to his pelvis, mere inches away from his cock.

The feeling of your tongue close to his length did it for him - he had to have you, right now. He gripped your hips and motioned them up, and you understood what he wanted, so you got on your knees and stood right above him as he positioned himself on your entrance.

You slowly moved down, feeling him filling you, and you let your head move back as you moan in pleasure, your moan intensifying as you heard Roger’s voice whispering your name.

You started riding him slowly, small moans leaving your lips every time you felt him bottoming out inside of you, but you wanted him to go deeper.

So you got off of him, and he grunted, frowning at you as he saw you on your knees in bed. But once you leaned forward, putting your weight on your elbows, he smirked. “I want to feel you deeper”, you told him.

He moved to your back, spreading your legs a little more so he had better access to you, and you both cursed under your breath as he got inside you again slowly, so you could get used to his size on this new position, his grip on your ass getting stronger once he was completely inside you again.

You moaned his name, and he moved his hands to your waist so he could move inside of you with more control.

He developed a rhythm after a few moments, and all you could hear was the sound of your skin on his and the moaning (and cursing) coming from his lips and yours, too. You could feel yourself closer to your orgasm.

It wasn’t long before you reached your high, crying his name as you pulled the duvet into your fists.

Roger kept thrusting through your high, but once he noticed you were done, he pulled out. "Can you turn?", he asked, and without much thought, you turned over and layed down, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He gave you a tired smile and then got inside you again, thrusting. "I like to look at you", he told you, closing his eyes, focusing on his movements. He was like that for a few seconds, and you could see the beads of sweat forming on his face, his blonde locks glueing themselves to his forehead.

As his movements got more intense, you could see he was close. "Y/N? Can I pull out?", he asked, and you nodded a yes. He liked to do that sometimes, when you could get messy, but it has been so long you nearly forgot.

So he pulled out and his cum fell on your torso, covering your breasts and stomach. He fell to your side and stayed there for a few moments, before opening his eyes and looking at your torso. "Sorry for the mess", he said, getting up and going to the bathroom. You smiled when you heard the sink open, and your smile got wider as Roger appeared with a warm cloth on your hands.

"I guess this helps", he shrugged, wiping his cum from your torso carefully. Once he cleaned most of it, he giggled. "Maybe a bath is not a bad idea, after all. Will you join me?", he asked, offering you a hand.

---

Chapter 21

Masterlist

Taglist:

@taylorroger-s @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @its-nessi @anamcg317 @frenchieswiftie @queen-danielle-dani-dan @minihemo @shutup-sorry @theyrealllegends @killerqueenisthebest @ashagracelove @hardy-s @fuckinghurricanesoul @secretsweetscollectionblog @mrswinterhater @11mb0 @tamtam-go92 @derptatosaur @brianandthemays @phantom-fangirl-stuff @the-hysterical-queen @rogerofmylife @notevenlxvely @discodeakyy @x1975sos @16wiishes @jennycidesstuff @partydulce @melros-e @onevisionliz

[little-klng]

Baldi’s Basics Theory

I’m sure everyone by now has heard of this new indie game called Baldi’s Basics due to the fact that almost every popular Youtuber has played it, including Markiplier. Markiplier, as far as I know, is the only major Youtuber to have gotten all endings and has played quite so much of the game as many like to reference in theory videos. I’ll cut to the chase, this is a theory post about something i developed in about 15 minutes. I spent a long while debating on whether or not to even post it due to the nature of the game. I wondered if people would make fun of me for making a whole theory on some silly game about a horror-filled schoolhouse that looks so thrown together, but my dear reader, strap on your seat belt and pull out your notebooks because this here is gonna be a bumpy ride

Now that you’re here, you’ve shown interest in what I have to say. Thank you for that.

On to the theory. Now, what is it that i have to go on here for any theory? Well, everything! This isn’t gonna be another ‘it was all a dream!’ theory because thats tired and worn out and completely erases all the work gone into the game (and any story for that matter), but understand it’s going to delve into a concept of that vein. Let’s lay out what we know;

-The game takes place in a bad CGI/2D schoolhouse setting from those old learning games in the 90′s. -The main antagonist is Baldi -All other characters look like horrible caricatures of what could have/should have been better modeled/rendered people/students -All characters in the game exist solely to harm or distract the player in some way -At the end of the game when you win, you’re met with a distorted voice asking you to do worse next time because they need to- That’s that. The end of the dialogue devolves into static there. But that gives us a hint of what to do next

If you just play the game as normal. you’d never really come across some pretty major points and plot. The game just dumps you in this setting of a weirdly laid out school and lets you run wild. But if you didn’t know any better, you would miss out on the fact that the only reason the player is in the school is to get your friends notebooks that he left in the school. Weird that no character, not even you, makes any mention of that. The whole premise of the game is that you collect notebooks, but you have to solve math questions for them that you always have to fail due to some questions being glitched out and unsolvable.

With the addition of update 1.3.1, the game now has a Secret Ending that you can only get by beating the game after getting 100% of all questions wrong (meaning Baldi chases you faster than ever. Go watch Markiplier do it, it took him 9 hours). But once you beat it, you’re met with the screen telling you to go to the principals office for tips on how to do better. Once there, you’re met with a long distorted Baldi in one end of the room and a mysterious character on the other. His name is Filename2 and he looks like this

Look at this dude T Posing out here. An absolute icon.

Filename2 is just what hes labelled as in the files, and his name is never actually spoken. Some theorize him to be the players friend from earlier, and honestly so do I! When you enter the room he says the following;

"Oh jeepers, you found me. Good job, I'm glad you found me, because I have something kind of important to say. *beep* It's about th-the game... Don't, *beep* Uh, Eh. Don't *beep* Don't, just, *laughter* this is.. This is probably looking pretty ridiculous *beep* Don't tell anyone about this game. You wanna.. Don't, don't bring attention to yourself. Destroy it, destroy the game. Destroy the game. Before, it's too late. *beep* What I'm saying is... is get out of this, while you still can. *beep* Just, don't.. don't know that you probably know I'm not saying that I'm trapped inside the game, no, that would be ridiculous. No I'm.. *beep* I can't... this is... I'm not... the game was... kind of...*beep* I got really corrupted. Yeah, I... *beep* I don't know what to say. Just... Just trust me. We gotta... *beep* * This isn't... This seems... I me-I mean it seems... ohh. *beep* They'd know I.. They intentionally... that's...I guess... I can't- They can't tell you, and some... stuff is classified. I can't say it. *beep* I wish I could say more. I can't talk normally. I-it's corrupted. There's...*beep*...Yeah...*beep* Just... close the program. Destroy it. Never come back. *long beep*"

...Yeah

There are a few things to take from this

-Filename2 is not ‘trapped in the game’ like most horror cliches. that would be ridiculous -He needed you to fail every single math question and still beat the game just to say all this. Weird. -He REALLY wants you to just delete the game and pretend you didn’t see it -He REALLY wants you to escape the game while you can -The game is ‘corrupted’ somehow, but he can’t really get into it because its ‘classified’ and ‘they’ would know he told you

There is something/someone preventing Filename2 from telling you anything more important than ‘get out of here while you can, don’t worry about me’. Throughout the audio, theres a constant stutter and some laughing, but more prominently the sound of shuddering and heavy breathing. It sounds a bit like crying to me. (warning to anyone about to go listen to the audio themselves, the beeps are REALLY loud and the speech is REALLY quiet)

Lets put him to the side again while we analyze the rest of the school

This doesn’t really look like any school I’ve ever been to, how about you? The weird hallways made to look like the stretch on and on and the actual classrooms being so far away from each other makes it feel less like a school and more like a hellscape prison.

About the schools inhabitants, they also feel like a hellscape prison.

We already know about Baldi, so lets see the other antagonists;

Aside from Baldi, Filename2, and yourself, there are 6 other characters that roam the halls. Each one has a simple description of themselves in the Principals Office.

Gotta Sweep;

What do you do when the school opens in 7 hours and you haven't hired a janitor? Hire a broom! It sweeps everything!

As you might imagine, Gotta Sweep is a badly condensed jpg image of a green and grey broom that spends its time, once released from the broom closet, roaming the halls loudly proclaiming its need to sweep. It moves quickly, sweeping everything in its path in the same direction it is. It stops for no one and nothing.

It’s A Bully;

Here at Here School, we believe every good school needs a good bully! That's why we have this kid!

It's a Bully appears as a poorly-modeled humanoid figure with an orange ellipsoid for a torso, blue cylinders for limbs, and small, peach-colored balls for hands and feet. He has an incredibly distorted and malformed face with dots for eyes, a gaping mouth with orange lips that clips into where his neck would be, a wide asymmetrical nose and brown hair. He doesn't wear shoes, and he has a brown text floating next to his head that says "THIS IS A BULLY" in all-caps. His pose appears to be in the middle of a run cycle. He spends his time blocking hallways and demanding that, in order to pass through, he must take one of your items. He can, however, be sent to detention should the principal wander by.

Playtime;

Despite her poor eyesight, she's always looking for a playmate! "Let's play!"

This character is a poorly drawn animated little girl whos eyes and hair are animated scribbles. Her poor eyesight has nothing to do with her characters mechanics, as she spots you easily and traps you in a game of jumprope. You can cut her jumprope with safety scissors to escape the game entirely, but doing so is considered bullying and you can be sent to detention for it.

1st Prize; 

Won 1st Prize at the Science Fair! Loves hugging people, rushing towards anyone it sees. Sadly, it turns super slowly.

If you liked Gotta Sweep you’ll definitely like this character. Hes a robotic hugging machine that barrels down the hall towards you, and pushes you until the hallway ends. He, unlike Gotta Sweep, turns very slowly. He can occasionally accidentally push Baldi into you if you’re not careful, but you can use the safety scissors to cut his wires and make him spin in place for 15 seconds to buy time. Dunno why you’d do that though.

Principal of the Thing; 

If I see anyone breaking the school rules, I'll make sure justice is served! It tastes good and fills my tummy!

Now, the interesting thing here is that when you start the game, Baldi refers to Here School (the school you’re in) as ‘his’ school, even though there definitely is a principal. There are posters in the school listing off the rules, and all are pretty standard like “no running” and “no students in the faculty rooms” and being caught breaking these rules by the principal sends you to detention for increasing seconds. An interesting thing to note about this character is that his name is a play on words for the phrase ‘It’s the principle of the thing’, though I have no idea how to fit that into a theory. This guy is a mostly average looking guy, except that his face is slightly contorted and his legs are partially erased

Arts and Crafters;

Shy, and tries to be avoided. Doesn't like being looked at, and gets jealous at people with more notebooks than him.

This guy is the final character, and he’s only important once you have all 7 notebooks. This guy is a sock puppet that, when looked at, will dart back behind whatever wall is closest and out of sight. However, once you have more notebooks than him (7, as he has 6), he turns hostile. He runs at you with his cardboard mouth agape and teleports both you and Baldi back to the starting position, ruining your run almost instantly. 

And that’s everyone!

The most intriguing thing about all of them is that they all share one quality; some part of them is horrifically malformed. Something about them is just... broken or stretched or erased. The only one in one piece and animated is, albeit poorly, Baldi. Everyone, however, has a function and could definitely be described as real cliques and people. All of these characters read as how you imagine a person you’ve only ever been told about, but never really met. Especially if the person telling you about them was only telling you about the newest drama going around or the latest experience the person talking has had with that person if they’ve only had bad experiences with them.

And here’s where the theory begins.

These characters are all fragmented and poorly animated because thats sort of how it works in your head when you’ve never actually seen someone in person. How many times have you heard about someone over and over only to meet them in person and realizing they look nothing like how you imagined, or that they dont act the same as you’ve been told. But that’s because often times you’re only ever told about the bad someone else has done, and very rarely the special good things someone does. 

These characters are not real people, but they are based on the real people your friend knows.

Your friend told you about the little girl in the school with bad eyesight but loves to play jumprope. Your friend told you about the bully that steals his stuff. Your friend told you about the principal and how he gets people in trouble so much. Your friend told you about his science fair project that won first place. These people are not people you know, but you’ve heard about them. You probably don’t know their names because your friend didn’t refer to them with names. Just with minor descriptions.

Why do they look like that? well I don’t imagine that, if one were to look at how your brain pieces images together based on description alone and makes them a real thing, they would look so good either. 

Every single character makes sense in this context. All but one- Baldi

Baldi, unlike every other character, is a whole animated character with lines that hint not-so-subtly that hes in charge of Here School, despite the principle. He’s an entity that is almost entirely immune to most things and hes the first thing you see as you enter the game. He’s also the last. But despite this, his weakness is the rules he follows. He tries to answer the phone, he abides by the walls of the school, he moves at a pace synonymous with the whacks of his ruler- if you’ve ever been to an old catholic school, you know that sound well and truly means power over others.

Baldi is a malicious entity that has trapped you in his Hellscape Prison constructed entirely from your subconscious memory. Personally, I think the map looks that way because the Player has been homeschooled and hasn’t actually seen much of the inside of a real school, but that’s up for interpretation. Baldi has manifested this area to fit the descriptions that your friend has fed you of this area you were already thinking about on your way to gather your friends notebooks. You were meant to be dumped in this world having forgotten your initial quest and forced to work on bare instinct. That’s why you don’t think to question the fact that, despite the fact that school is over at this time (”your friend forgot his notebooks and he needs them back before ‘eating practice’...” supposedly an after school activity Actually revolving around cooking and food prep. Maybe your friend works at a restaurant after school and Baldi doesn’t quite understand what that means due to his demonic or fae nature?) you’re still expected to finish all these math assignments just to leave. 

Now, why doesnt our brave and ultimately doomed protagonist just leave? Well, my dear reader, I’m sure you’ve heard of those old tales of Fae that trick wanderers into eat fruit or taking things that aren’t theirs to trap them for eternity? That’s right, the notebooks are what trap you in the game.

From the first moment you finish the first notebook scot-free, you are trapped, having taken a fae-world item to fulfill your own quest. Now Baldi can give you those impossible-to-solve questions and the notebooks regardless of anything else. You’re trapped and theres nothing you can do about it.

No matter how many times you get a Game Over, you’ll keep trying. And you’ll keep going. You won’t ever really escape

“But the, where does Filename2 come into play, Mona?” I hear you dejectedly cry into the night, “You didn’t forget about him, did you?” Oh you naive little thing... he’s what ties this whole thing together!

You see, Filename2 is you! Well, maybe not you but, he’s what remains of you. While you spend eternity trapped in a world built from your subconscious, your conscious self remains, though glitched out and corrupted. You aren’t fully there, and if you knew that you might be able to escape, but if Filename2 told you that, Baldi would know. Filename2 is your door to safety and salvation...  but unfortunately...

Baldi hears every door that you open.

[thegurlbehindthesmile]

Head Storm.

If i don't take minute to write these things down they just weigh so heavy. where do i begin.

i'm frustrated.

sometimes its like a repeating nightmare. Its me and brian and we are on a 13 hour flight to Germany. this double decker plane is huge and filled with strangers and i cant see their faces. i know our destination is a long way away. im tired. and there we are in the middle row. u next to me and me on the isle. We're sharing your blue ipod with music i never really listen to and this is the moment im stuck in.

for a minute my body goes into drive. at first you think the dream would play out as i remember, but this isnt a memory its a dream and now that im more aware- more awake within the dream; im always asking myself.

why am i here? wheres juan? wheres julian? (thats right this is a dream/ im sleeping)

and i realize im meant to doo something. and i go and look at brian and its not the same. i can barely see his face and i no longer remeber the sound of his voice. its as if im stuck in my seat.

the dream is almost paused- as i struggle to put these pieces of the real memory back together. its like im waiting. im waiting for brian to speak first. im just sitting here. on this plane.

i went to russia in 2005. the trip was from philly airport to germany than germany to russia.

it was for a youth peace team mission. we met up with kids our age over there and talked about religion and life. it wasnt just us two- we had a team of our friends and it was amazing.

It was the first time i had left the country- it was the first time i had flown without my mom. first time i felt homesick. the first time i saw how big the world really is. how there is so much to see and so much going on. it was an experience.

i never knew Demisexual was a thing. (The term 'demisexual' comes from the concept being described as being "halfway between" sexual and asexual. ... The gray-A spectrum usually includes individuals who very rarely experience sexual attraction; they experience it only under specific circumstances.)

i didnt even know what sexual was- i was young naive and anything i did know about sex and beauty most likely came from the wrong place. i managed to get all the way to freshman year of highschool without really relationships that included sexual and non sexual.

freshman year was horrible. i was the new girl becuase i didnt attend the same middle school as the other kids and my prior school was MUCH smaller than the highschool i went to. but i was excited for the change. i asked for the change.

its easy to say "well idk?" when u have lack of experience. Idk why i was single so long. idk why i never wanted a bf. idk why i have never kissed anyone idk? idk? idk? (...now i know) my first thoughts were always like omg maybe noone wanted to kiss me? maybe im the weird one. less desired. not wanted. i was the problem. i imagined my body was less than perfect and i guess my attitude and demenor wasnt the dating type (lies) i just felt weird and alone.

sometimes people cant make a sexual connection unless they have an emotional connection with someone as well. it isnt prude it isnt wierd its just how it works (literally) the better and more i get to know you i can finally start feeling any real connection at all especially sexually.

this new demisexual wasnt even a thing until i was half way through my twenties...THAT and pansexual (not limited in sexual choice with regard to biological sex, gender, or gender identity.) people would ask "well whats ur type?!" idk id say?? i didnt even realize internally i found both sexs appealing. not even just sexs just ANYone. hearts not parts we say now.

i was basiclly lost ,frustrated and didnt understand a damn thing about myself.

brian and i were friends. we went to the same church- we lived in the same town. our families knew each other. it was a very safe space for me. i didnt think brian liked me. ( i didnt think ANYONE liked me; that way anyway) i had guy friends i had girl friends i just felt like we were all at the same level. most my girl friends had kissed people, most had bfs; same with the guys. i just didnt... it wasnt that i didnt like brian- i just had no idea what any of this stuff was. how to even begin "liking someone" i wasnt stupid - i was scared? i felt scared. worried that becase i hadnt had the experiences - that i wasnt good at ANY of it. i got to know brian because he was around. youth group trips and church events ; school- we were always hanging around each other.

i was never a physical person. honestly self pleasure was the only pleasure i knew and i thought id be going to hell for masturbating so theres that complex. a secret i held tight forever.

i didnt know the more i talked and was around brian i would fall inlove with him. people SAYYY that- but in my world it was a must. it was inevitable. as long as he was open with me and vulnerable- i began to want him.

he was my first kiss. and he let me kiss him. it might of seemed innocent ( i mean it was really) but it was big for me. the only person in the world i had let in. and he was ready to reak havoc on my new world. kisses lead to make outs- making out lead to sex- and that was that. id say i was his or he was mine but i guess we were each others. i wasnt ready to do this with anyone else. i didnt think i even could. it took so long for brian to become this person for me. i was..postive; id make this love last a life time. but that wasnt the case it was a rocky 3 years but at the end of it i personally learned alot.

i still didnt know all that i said above. on my rocky one relationship road... i was frustrated. i didnt know these things existed and while life seemed easy for brian- it was not for me. i struggled and argued with myself resulting in very poor communication with brian leading to only end in sight. if i wasnt making an emotional connection with my person then it had to be the opposite; i wasnt interested at all. almost the opposite- i felt nothing.

i let the hurt find its way in- i let it block any form of fix. the emotions were turned off. and the result was sexless.

i went on a rampage and found a random lover. Peter was ..peter. i didnt know him prior to meeting him- i barely knew much about him at all. all i knew was i was numb and needed to feel again. ( now if only i had known who i was i would of tried to build and talk through these emotions, break some walls down. reopen the lines. reconnect and succeed. but i didnt know that. all i knew was i was hurting and i nolonger had my person- i wanted to feel again.) i wouldnt even say i was attracted to peter. i really wasnt "looking" at all. i wasnt looking with my eyes or my heart.

i was already pretty good at hurting myself just plain jane. but this was a whole different world. what if i could just have sex and not care. just do it and live. just feel something. and i did it. i found peter and yeah we had sex. i was postive i didnt want a relationship ( i was heading down the wrong road in the wrong direction WITH no directions) it was a mess. a mess that didnt last long (thankfully)

i look back at it now and would like to have lunch with peter. although im sure im a spek of nothing in his life stream; he was a pretty big rock in mine. mainly to say sorry. sorry for using him. more sorry that i had no intentions at all. i was a shell of person and im sorry he never got the chance to meet the true me. cuz im not that person at all. and i think he was geniune and we could of learned alot from each other.

i am 30 years old now and still to this day brian and peter are the only people ive slept with except my current husband.

ive trusted 2 (brian and juan) of those souls with my heart. my whole heart. ive been with them to the extent i lost myself. my body has craved them and known them. and they will forever have a piece of me. they took with them what insecurities i had and threw them out the window. i was engulfed and loved and it didnt stop. i had alot of sex with brian as i currently have alot of sex with juan (my husband)

if i had known who i was then i would of talked to more people. resulting in more meaningful connections. resulting in more stories and experiences to tell about. girls guys gays all different kinds of souls i would of touched and danced with. but i didnt know what i know now.

time has given me the learning ive neeeded and now i know alot.

as my nightmare continues its me and brian sitting on a 13 hour plane. i want to ask him how he is, and what hes doing. what other souls hes experienced and what life is like for him now. we would laugh and joke and unerstand that life goes on and although we are not lovers any longer we wouldnt be who we are without having known each other. on this plane its noone but us. reality doesnt hit because its just a distraction and we just want to catch up.

its like a clock is ticking and were anxious. as if he too knows this is a dream, a mear astroprojection into a memory. and noone talks. we both stay silent. its almost like i cant breathe.. its almost like im drowning.

i havent spoken to brian in atleast 10 years possibly. not a single word. across the universe is a soul i once loved wholefully and now were strangers. i think a piece of me hurts still today. like a lost limb. how can i go through life and succeed at only making connections that count when my first connection is fried and dead.

how do i begin to process the things i now understand when one small piece of me is gravitating through space.

i was told not to long ago that you are infact alive. simply living- trying to stay to urself.

as this new person i am. as i am learning and growing. you were a big part of who i was- i wish u could see who ive become. my soul acknowledges your absence and i am aware of it.

i hope love and light find you on ur dark days. and that you follow that light to become whoever you are meant to be.

[rilesandlucas]

Football fails

THERES A FUCKING HOT FRENCH EXCHANGE STUDENT AND HE LOOKS LIKE PEYTON. THAT IS ALL. ALSO I FROM AUSTRALIA AND WE DONT HAVE NFL WE LITERALLY ONLY HAVE AFL WHICH IS DIFFERENT SO HAVE A LOL. Lucas Friar adjusted his helmet as he looked at himself in the locker room mirrors. Tonight was the final against the Bradbury bears, or private school jerks as Lucas liked to call them. Taking one last sip of water Lucas waddled out to meet his other team mates. He immediately caught sight of Zay and ran over to him tapping him on the chest and Zay rolled his eyes and hit his arm were there was no padding. Lucas could see the quite large crowd that had gathered outside from the entrance of the locker room. He always found it kind of weird and surreal that so many people came to watch such 'barbaric' behaviour. Watching such sports has been around since Roman times and it was all a bit weird to Lucas when he thought in depth about it. He felt a hand hit the back of his head and he snapped back into reality looking down at Zay once again. Lucas offered an apologetic smile but Zay just scoffed and directed him to listen to their coach. 'Ok Lucas. You're our quarterback. Bring the patriots home man.' Coach yelled and all his Neanderthal friends started jumping, shouting and hitting each other. Zay saw Lucas uncomfortable and put his hand on his shoulder. 'You'll do great out there man. Plus Riley will be cheering you on and I swear she is magical at making people's dreams come true so that's a good sign.' Zay offered and Lucas let out a small smile at the mention of his girlfriend. 'Have you heard from Riley? I haven't heard from her since she left Greenwich and I mean that's a 2 hour drive and she should be here by now.' He questioned anxiety seeping through his voice. Zay tensed at his words but covered it up not wanting to scare his friend when he didn't know what was happening yet. 'Nah man I haven't yet. But don't stress maybe her phone just ran out of charge. It's nothing.' He pleaded and Lucas relaxed a little. It was probably just a misunderstanding. It didn't make the feeling in his gut go away though. 'Yeah yeah Zay you're probably right. I shouldn't stress. It's probably just a misunderstanding.' He wasn't sure if he was convincing him self or Zay more. The coach yelled and Zay and Lucas stormed off onto the field and got into there positions. While all basic formalities began Lucas took his chance to look around the stands to see if he could see Riley. After a quick skim he noticed Topanga, his parents, Maya, Cory and Farkle and an empty spot beside them. He tried to brush it off as her getting stuck in traffic or maybe having to clean up something at the house or at school but something deep inside of him was telling him, this was worse. The game began and Lucas welcomed the distraction. He despised the smell of dirt and overly well kept grass but add that to sweaty over weight man killers and it's a deadly combination Lucas had had enough of. Thank god this is my last game he thought and went to grab the ball. He passed to a teammate before he felt a strong force hit him and his head slammed against the grass. He groaned as his teammate Ray helped him up while his team was celebrating the touchdown they had just earned. He didn't think he had ever been more thankful for half time in his entire life. He limped slightly off the field hiding from the medics and his coach slightly. Taking a sip from a water bottle he went to look around for Riley again but saw that not only her seat was empty but so was Cory and Topanga's. Suspicious he pretended he was running off his injury and ran toward their stand. Farkle seemed slightly frightened as Lucas ran over, he didn't know what to tell the quarterback. He didn't know what he was allowed to tell the quarterback in all fairness. Lucas stopped and called out to Farkle who was only to rows back from the barrier. Ignoring the loving stares he got from his classmates he watched as Maya hid her slightly puffy eyes from Lucas. 'Ok guys where's Riley. I'm not mad considering I know there's a reasonable excuse but I would like to know where she is and why Maya is crying.' He demanded and everyone shivered a bit at his scary tone. 'Lucas' he heard the familiar gentle tone and turned to his mother who had a sad aura coming from her. 'Riley wishes she was here. She's just a little preoccupied. We will explain later. You have a game to win now. This is what she wanted.' She prattled and Lucas couldn't help but feel like he couldn't breathe when no one was telling him where Riley was. He stood there collecting his breathe and hoping that Riley was just planning a surprise after party for him and it wasn't anything bad. 'Friar.' Someone yelled from across the field and Lucas saw the demanding eyes of his coach and stormed over blinking back his tears. 'Alright ok first half. Friar great playing keep it up. Now I've already spoken to everyone I need to individually so everyone head out there. One-two-three hut.' The boys yelled as they put their hands in the circle and flung them out. Lucas ran to the field and tried as hard as he could to keep his head in the game. 2 touchdowns later Lucas found him self in a play that was next to Zay. They had a few extra minutes to spare considering there was a fight between teams and the umpires were trying to stop the situation. Zay trotted closer to Lucas and clapped him on the back. 'How are you doing with the whole Riley thing.' Zay sulked and Lucas tried to hide his furrowed eyebrows. It was times like these Lucas was thankful he had a gullible friend to trick. 'Yeah ok.' He muttered and he saw Zay sigh heavily before tears welled up in his eyes. 'Yeah car accidents are tough on everyon-' Zay started but Lucas was already faking an injury. 'Car accident- Zay why didn't you tell me I need to go to her.' He yelped as he held his arm in pain and saw the medics running towards him. 'I thought you knew.' Was the last thing Lucas heard a confused Zay say before he was being escorted off the field. the medic tried to sit him down but before they could Lucas pulled out of their grasp. 'Thanks but I know it's serious. I'll drive myself to the hospital.' He bellowed before dropping his helmet and sprinting out of the stadium. He heard a few gasps but nothing was on his mind except Riley. He had never been more thankful for no New York traffic than now as he sped along the streets towards the hospital. After a speedy 5 minute drive he pushed open the doors to the hospital and strided up to reception. 'Hi I'm here to see Riley Matthews. I'm her brother.' He mumbled and the nurse nodded. 'Yep Riley is down the hall take a left and then two doors down.' She directed and Lucas managed a thank you before he ran off down the halls. Pushing open the door he saw a bruised Riley with her arm in cast and a bandage on her forehead. She looked over at him and smiled sadly. 'Lucas you didn't have to be here. How did you even know. You have a football game.' She rambled and Lucas laughed while sitting down on the chair next to her bed. 'Riles you are 100X more important than football. If you're hurt I'm hurt.' 'How did you find out?' She questioned as his lips kissed her temple. 'Zay may have been persuaded a little.' Riley laughed before grabbing her ribs in pain. 'How you feeling.' 'I'll be fine in about a month. Other than this stupid broken arm. It was worth it to save the bunny though.' She joked before her phone pinged and she grabbed it. 'Well look luke you won. With Zay as fill in quarterback.' She beamed and Lucas was confused but delighted. 'Well although unexpected I love that. Yay Zay.' He yelled and Riley replied with a yay Zay. 'Now how about we watch cuddle bunnies.' Lucas offered before lying in her hospital bed with her. Riley put her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. 'Anything for you' she mumbled before drifting Off to sleep.

[blookmallow]

goin through tma transcripts again making some more observations

i think im picking up on another potential thread here i didnt notice before 

- in Growing Dark, natalie becomes obsessed with darkness. the lightbulbs appear to be going out because she’s intentionally unscrewing them, so it doesn’t seem to be the exact same as what was happening around montauk, but there’s a clear connection anyway (and mark bilham says the streetlights and the car headlights and everything all seemed darker than they should be when he went back to confront natalie, as well) jon suspects this but says it’s only a suspicion, and he isn’t sure. not sure why two different names were given (”the peoples church of the divine host” and “the hither green dissenters”) but it could just be two different names for the same group. jon doesn’t seem to know either 

- Why Didn’t Kathy ASK Her What The Food Was and i also cant decide if i really want to know what it was or really DON’T want to know but i dont think it was spinach 

- if it IS the same cult: if they were trying to summon the darkness, or worshipping it, or something, it doesn’t quite fit that montauk himself was apparently trying to keep this darkness away

but then, his killings began after his wife left, and she left the pendant behind when she did, so maybe she left the cult and that’s what made the darkness angry, but. julia doesn’t mention having ever seen her father wearing a pendant like that so it doesn’t seem like he himself was part of the cult before, and if his wife was the one involved/the one who left, why would the darkness be coming for him 

or if she was... protecting him from it and now that she’s gone it’s coming after him why would she have left her pendant behind like that, if “I’m leaving the church” was something personal to her and wasn’t intended as a statement to him

- seems like there may be two rival cults clashing here, could be some kind of Fire/open eyes/Seeing vs Darkness/closed eye/Listening happening. the clown doll in Strange Music also had eyes painted shut, and that was centered on. strange music. and the darkness cult emphasizes losing sight but there’s that discordant singing

this is a theme i didnt pick up on until just now and i dont really want to go back through and search for Sight vs Sound in everything else right now but, hm. seems like there’s been a lot of creatures that don’t want to be Seen, things that resist all attempt to Prove them, things that don’t show their true forms visually. things that don’t show up on cameras even though they were there. things that you can only see properly when you’re not looking directly at it

the strange blonde man sasha encounters says “How would a melody describe itself when asked?” his appearance distorts in reflections and he describes himself as sound 

something something magnus institute trying to cast Light and Understanding and Truth onto things that don’t want to be seen and don’t want to be understood. prentiss says in her statement - “I need it to be seen. To be seen in the cold light of knowledge is anathema to the things that crawl and slither and swarm in the corners and the cracks.”

so prentiss appears to be on the Darkness side/that makes the most sense but sasha notably discovers she can kill the worms with a fire extinguisher, while martin had noticed a partly burned worm that had apparently not been killed by fire before (and. timothy clearly did not escape the worms, regardless of whether he killed some of them or not). after prentiss was found the first time the complex burned down. i cant quite make sense of whats happening there

- there were screams heard in the abandoned chapel on the day gertrude died so something’s definitely going on there. the guy with the dream about her believed something unspeakably horrible was coming for her it doesn’t make sense that she was just shot, and “the unspeakable horror was Betrayal” seems like a cop out to me so i dont think thats it 

- the guy in Burnt Offering was. under the effects of some kind of Burning Curse so that’s. pretty clear, but why were there pictures of gertrude in that clearing. the fuck is happening there 

- I’m still trying to figure out what’s happening with Written Word vs Speech, maybe related to Seeing/Silence too, like. all these statements are written. jon is speaking them and at first i just thought he was really into the storytelling but now I’m starting to worry that the reason he sounds so different when he’s narrating the statements is that they’re. getting into him. somehow. like he’s some kind of a conduit for something. i don’t like that at ALL and i REALLY hope im wrong lmao

anyway then there’s Cheating Death, where nathaniel thorp says that his story is folklore which has never before been written down, so we have... oral tradition being spoken by an illiterate man, copied down in written word for the first time by the magnus institute (not sure if it’s relevant Who transcribed it, jon says it was a research assistant named Fiona Law, who died from what seems to be completely unrelated causes like 30 yeas later, so) and now being recited/spoken again by jon. and there’s probably something to the fact that thorp says it’s a legend/folklore but it turns out to have actually been his statement all along, so im not sure if he was... saying that the stories were about Him, or if the concept of “people who try to gamble with death become something stuck between death and life” was a story he grew up with and then discovered to be Real, or if none of it was folklore in the first place and just talking about it in a detached third person way was the only way he could do it 

prentiss describes the magnus institute as “This place of books and learning, of sight and beholding” and seems not to trust in Words, 

“There is no right word because for all your Institute and ignorance may laud the power of the word, it cannot even stretch to fully capture what I feel in my bones. What possible recourse could there be for me in your books and files and libraries except more useless ink and dying letters? I see now why the hive hates you. You can see it and log it and note it’s every detail but you can never understand it. You rob it of its fear even though your weak words have no right to do so.”

that also speaks to jon’s skepticism, everything “verifiable” about these statements does not make sense to the person’s actual experience, things keep happening that for whatever reason cannot be explained and understood, people who were THERE but theres no record of them existing, cave systems that are heavily mapped and documented but the actual experience of exploring them doesnt follow the documentation at all 

after reading prentiss’ statement jon says “There are weird things out there that are perfectly natural. It’s not, though. I know it’s not natural.” which is... the first time ive noticed him actually looking at something that could be explained rationally (prentiss is a mentally ill woman with a very aggressive currently-unknown-to-science parasite) but instead follows his feeling that theres something more underneath it 

he also. says this after having read the statement and remarks that “something in this statement has got to me a bit” and the... way he read it was very alarming and very..... Not His Voice. it worries me a LOT that something about these statements seems to be getting into him and ESPECIALLY that one 

[violetgraceskys]

SUN 15:58

Ugh so its been a while

Id say a bit more than a while

But what feels like years

Maybe less than years because that’s a bit dramatic

At least months

Quite a few months

Not years though

And I mean this will take minutes

Well maybe hours

Many minutes?

And well I guess I can finally face it?

I mean ill try but

I mean a lot has changed

I know a lot now I didn’t

And I feel different

I think retrospect has finally learnt to be kind

Or I have finally learnt to be kind to her

So im out in the big wide world now?

I suppose

Well I’m not because I’m sat inside

So I don’t even know how to tell you this

Because as a matter of fact I have told around 3 other people

The true bits of it

I mean there was a lot going on

So its time to tell you a story

It may be long or short I dunno

But it will be a bit of a weird one

It was weird to live it

So

So she said

Imagine for years growing up as a young women feeling metaphorically you have no voice no words no scream no shout and its trapped. So you encase yourself in a bubble of making art and building an aesthetic that becomes your voice. But the aesthetic never settles and you want to scream. And the irony is you even investigate feelings of dysphoria and displacement within that aesthetic as a way of questioning why.

Why is it all muddled up.

I sit in a room as one person talking to myself when really it feels like theres 20 of me in this room but they cant all talk at the same time-  theres like 20 people using one voice. And they fight to get it out . But the way they get it out. Its never going to be from they're mouths because they make themselves voiceless through the fight.

So for a while I was unwell. Recurrently ill I suppose

And it hurt a lot of other things

I mean my art when it got good I would make it bad to make myself remake in a different form

And I mean I think I’ve found my form now

I mean I hope

I cant deal with the remaking myself again

So erm

Idk lol

So for a while my art work was even titled IDK

But I think undoing yourself repeatedly is the only way you find what you really should be doing

And I came undone

And I put it back together well I am now

So its weird using this tense

Usually I talk through the voice of another to tell the story of myself through a fictitious lense. Like a dystopian fairytale microscope.

And I’m done

Because I realised those other voices are still all me

I realised the reason I think I can lucid write

Is because I’ve been lucid for a long time

So a few months ago when everything got really bad I had sleep paralysis

So I took a break

I dreamt I needed to desperately wake up

But I was running through a corridor of doors and everyone I opened looped back round. I was shreeeeking and screaming

And it went on and on

And then I just got out and it was fine

So I realised this is all about me because me is the only original thing I can bring to this conversation.

I mean I thought that until I realised there could have been versions of me before. I mean ill tell you there stories in a sec but first

So its a bit weird how things turned out

When you align everything it always seems to make sense

But then in the moment it never does

Its like that big picture effect.

But you just get lost in the sea of dots

So I think I’ve lived before? I don’t know how else to say it

So ive read up on like past life regression and spoken to someone who is able to do it and I’ve been thinking maybe thats what my lucid writing has been

Maybe it was those consciousnesses bleeding through

Maybe they screamed so loud thats where my voice went and why theres bled through? The shrieking.

Sometimes things make sense in the loudest moments.

So apparently you dream of your deaths in the orders you died. So your first dreams of your past life are the last death you experienced. And in the two separate recurrent death scenarios I have experienced there are sensical feelings and emotions that are repeated within the works I’ve made.

So the first experience/last death was In the 80s on a beach somewhere with high rises being built. There was a crowd, I couldn’t grip to the sand and I was consumed between a battle of them and the water. The water won.

And the other is a white room becoming red. A place of new beginning being flooded in red as blood rains out of my flesh.

So

In January I was diagnosed with multiple things

One being dysphonia

Because I was stealing the air and words out of my own mouth in attempt to control what I couldnt. And it hurt

It hurts

So im doing loads of different therapy to retrain myself to breathe and talk

But I think I need to make some things to explain what I feel and to understand it myself.